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#check how the calibrations are going
garrus-appreciation · 2 years
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I like to imagine in ME2 Shepard thinks she's being inconspicuous visiting Garrus all the time but meanwhile Dr. Chakwas and all the other crew are all watching her walk by like
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thestarsarecool · 1 year
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Paul McCartney Sky Trax Interview, January 13th, 1988
Q: It’s sometimes been said that your lyrics are quite soft. And you have some very, you have some very strong opinions—
McCARTNEY: Yeah, a lot of the people who say that are soft, mind you.
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medicinemane · 2 months
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I don't know, I just think it's very important to keep the idea that you can do bad things and that you can have harmful and hateful beliefs in mind
What this isn't, is some kind of call to endlessly analyze your every action to see if you're bad
What it is, is wanting to suggest you don't fall into the trap of thinking that because you're a caring compassionate person, that you could never get lead down harmful ways of thinking. That you realize that we can all be fooled, that it's possible to be cruel and destructive while having good intentions
I'm just once again suggesting that from time to time you take a really good hard look at your moral compass and make sure it's calibrated how you want it to be
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clairelutra · 10 months
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hey so uhhhhh just a heads up: ao3 may or may not be in deep legal trouble. specifically for mistreatment of volunteers and lax compliance with certain laws, afaict.
i highly recommend you back up any stories you have and any favorite stories/authors you'd miss.
here's how i'm doing it:
download calibre. it's an open source ebook reader. link here.
it has a plugin called fanficfare. download that here.
open calibre and go to the dropdown next to "Settings", and then select "Get plugins to enhance calibre"
Find and install FanFicFare (sort by title and scroll down to F to find it easier)
go to the dropdown menu next to the fanficfare icon in the top bar and select "Get story URLs from Web Page"
when prompted for a URL, you can post any URL that displays a list of stories, e.g. "https://archiveofourown.org/users/[username]/bookmarks?page=7" or "https://archiveofourown.org/series/[number]" or "https://archiveofourown.org/users/[username]/pseuds/[username]/works"
click "Yes", then wait for it to gather the metadata and download the stories (you can give it another URL to grab stories from once it's done with gathering the metadata if you want)
it will give you a little popup in the lower right corner once it's done, telling you how many it was able to download (usually all of them) and how many it didn't.
if it misses one or two, you can click to see the details and find out which one didn't get downloaded, and go back to the page you got it from and download those yourself if you want.
tell it to update your library.
voila! all the stories on that page are now backed up on your computer.
notes: it will skip any fics that are locked to archive users only (the ones with a blue padlock next to the author's name in the listing), and you'll have to go back and grab those yourself. if your whole account is under archive lock, i highly recommend unlocking it for the duration of the time it takes to grab and download them (a few minutes to a few hours, depending on whether you have <20 or multiple hundreds like i do lol) before locking them again.
back up everything you love!! back up everything you moderately like!! back up anything you wouldn't like to lose!! even if the ao3 mess pans out to nothing, it's always good to have a "just in case".
EDIT: check replies and reblog comments for further information on the legal trouble they may or may not be in. if anything happens, it will likely be in the scale of months or years. i still recommend backing everything up, but it might not be as dire as this makes it sound.
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suguru-getos · 3 months
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just some over-affectionate yan!sato blabbering
yandere satoru hasn't really snapped at you, he just doesn't. always playful, always an embodiment. waking you up with peppers of kisses, making sure you have your favorite breakfast, making sure you relax around him. he even indulges in your silly little hobbies, all for the sake of making his baby comfortable. if you like painting, he is going to buy you all the colors there are, premium quality canvas boards and everything you'd ever need to bring your imaginations into reality. digital art? then you have an ipad with procreate and a pencil, anything and everything you need.
he doesn't say it but he is extremely observant, he even notices things like your skincare before you were kidnapped, and goes out of his way to upgrade it if needed. he can be a little pesky at times. what if his baby is using the wrong skin-care? probably going to fly you to the skin and beauty land 'korea' to have your skin checked, and then buy you the 'recommended' skincare.
same with aesthetics, you like wearing a certain type of fits, you have them littered in your closet room. he prefers changing styles and wouldn't mind upgrading/donating your wardrobe when you're also bored with the same ol' things.
your room is a mixture of everything you are, and trinkets of satoru in it. you are really not allowed to sleep in your room though. it's your space, just your happy corner. it doesn't have a bed. it has plush couches that are better than most beds, neon-light which speaks of your name and scented candles, perfect desks with the perfect desk mats. you just need to sleep with satoru.
he gets specifically testy when you really don't want to give him company at times. why? hasn't he done enough? most people would kill to be in your place. that's when you can see the cracks in his carefully calibrated persona he harbors for you.
he is usually very mellow, clingy and would be so playful you often forget how strong he is. "baby- but i want cuddles!" satoru whined, pulling you close to him while you squirmed when you weren't in the mood. satoru hasn't really pushed himself sexually, but he treats you like a pet in other stances. meaning - if not huggable why so cute? so you can't really escape from him during those times.
if you really, really try hard. his laughter, soft eyes, all of it drops. the usual high-pitched excitement too... "i will count to three. if you don't really come to me, there would be consequences." you haven't really checked on what the consequences are because that sets you straight instantly.
satoru HATES when you fear him, some part of him snaps so hard at that he ends up scaring you more. this happens when he's pissed about something and you flinch/wince at his tone. he hasn't done anything to make you scared... yet? though sometimes the way he comes home... reeking of dead curses, reeking of torment and torture. you automatically end up fearing him.
there was one time you took things too far, taking his leniency too far and going out without asking him. he hasn't locked the doors like a barbarian and you're making him question if he should... that's when he took you to one of his missions. shaking, quivering as you cling to him while the curse in front of you begged for death, for being exorcised while satoru made sure it healed and then continued his torture. blaming it on you as you sobbed, anxiety and palpitations all over you. "see, this is what i do... when you don't behave. you cause pain from me to others." he just wants you to know he is/can be fucked up.
would eventually feel extremely bad when you throw up from the gore and anxiety and finish the job, bringing you home and forcing you in his arms, crying with you at how bad it makes him feel to see you like this. how he would kill himself than making you cry, though a part of him is grateful that you wouldn't really go against him for a long, long while.
whenever any action done by him fucks you up, satoru takes responsibility of undoing it. even if sometimes he needs to make sure you stay with him, no matter the consequences... he would try his best to make up for it. always pestering, always kissing you, praising you for being so good to him even if you're not, behaving like an ideal boyfriend to the point where even you start suspecting if the problem is you.
he loves so sickeningly hard you end up deluded enough to consider yourself the 'toxic' one. :3
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leveragehunters · 9 months
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Downloading fanfic from AO3
I've been downloading a lot of fanfic lately for personal archival purposes, and I figured I'd share how I do it in case it's useful to anyone else (and so I have it written down in case I forget!).
There are lots of different ways to save fic, including the file download built into AO3, but I find that this gives me the nicest ebooks in the most efficient way.
(Under a cut cause long.)
Download Calibre: https://calibre-ebook.com/ or (clickable link).
Calibre is about the best ebook management and control program around and it's free. You can get it for windows, mac, and linux or download and run it from a portable storage device (I'm using a windows PC).
Install it and run it. It's gonna ask you where you want to put your library. Dealer's choice on this one. I recommend your internal drive (and then back up to external/cloud), but YMMV.
If you want to keep fanfic separate from the rest of your ebooks, you can create multiple libraries. I do, and my libraries are creatively named 'Books' and 'Fic'.
Customise Calibre
Now you're gonna install some plugins. Go to Preferences on the menu bar (far right), click its little side arrow, then choose 'Get plugins to enhance Calibre'.
At the top right of the box that pops up is 'Filter by name'. The plugins you want to get are:
EpubMerge
FanFicFare
Install them one at a time. It will ask you where you want them. I recommend 'the main bar' and 'the main bar when device is attached' (should be selected by default). When you're done, close and reopen Calibre.
The plugins you just installed should appear on the far right of the toolbar, but if you can't see one or both of them, fear not! Just click Preferences (the button, not the side arrow), then Toolbars and Menus (in the 'Interface' section) then choose the main toolbar from the drop down menu. That will let you add and remove things - I suggest getting rid of Donate, Connect Share, and News. That'll leave you room to add your new plugins to the menu bar.
(Do donate, though, if you can afford it. This is a hell of a program.)
Now you're ready to start saving your fave fanfic!
Saving fanfic
I'll go through both methods I use, but pick whatever makes you happy (and/or works best for what you're downloading).
ETA: if the fics are locked you can't easily use FanFicFare. Skip down to the next section. (It does ask for a username/password if you try and get a locked fic, but it's never worked for me - I had to edit the personal.ini in the configuration options, and even then it skips locked fics in a series.)
Calibre and FanFicFare
You can work from entirely within Calibre using the FanFicFare plugin. Just click its side arrow and pick from the menu. The three main options I use are download from URL, make anthology from a webpage, and update story/anthology.
Download from URL: pick Download from URL (or just click the FanFicFare button) and paste the fic's URL into the box (if you've copied it to your clipboard, it will be there automatically). You can do more than one fic at a time - just paste the URLs in one after the other (each on a new line). When you're done, make sure you have the output format you want and then go.
Make Anthology Epub From Web Page: if you want a whole series as a single ebook, pick Anthology Options, then Make Anthology Epub From Webpage. Paste the series URL into the box (if you've copied it to your clipboard, it will be there automatically), click okay when it displays the story URLs, check your output format and go.
Update series/anthology: if you downloaded an unfinished fic or series and the author updates, you can automatically add the update to your ebook. Just click on the ebook in Calibre, open the FanFicFare menu using its side arrow, and select either Update Existing FanFic Books or Anthology Options, Update Anthology epub. Okay the URLs and/or the output format, then go.
Any fic downloaded using FanFicFare will be given an automatically generated Calibre cover. You can change the cover and the metadata by right clicking on the title and picking edit metadata. You can do it individually, to change the cover or anything else specific to that ebook, or in bulk, which is great for adding a tag or series name to multiple fics. Make sure you generate a new cover if you change the metadata.
Browser plugins, Calibre, and EpubMerge
You can also use a browser addon/plugin to download from AO3. I use FicLab (Firefox/Chrome), but I believe there's others. FicLab: https://www.ficlab.com/ (clickable link).
FicLab puts a 'Save' button next to fic when you're looking at a list of fics, eg search results, series page, author's work list etc. Just click the 'Save' button, adjust the settings, and download the fic. You can also use it from within the fic by clicking the toolbar icon and running it.
FicLab is great if you're reading and come across a fic you want to save. It also generates a much nicer (IMO) cover than Calibre.
You can add the downloaded fic to Calibre (just drag and drop) or save it wherever. The advantage to dropping it into Calibre is that all your fic stays nicely organised, you can adjust the metadata, and you can easily combine fics.
Combining fics
You can combine multiple fics into an anthology using EpubMerge. This is great if you want a single ebook of an author's short fics, or their AUs, or their fics in a specific ship that aren't part of a series. (It only works on epubs, so if you've saved as some other format, you'll need to convert using Calibre's Convert books button.)
Select the ones you want to combine, click EpubMerge, adjust the order if necessary, and go.
The cover of the merged epubs will be the cover of the first fic in the merge list. You can add a new cover by editing the metadata and generating a new cover.
Combing with FanFicFare
You can also combine nonseries fics using FanFicFare's Make Anthology ePub from URLs option by pasting the individual fic URLs into the box.
Where there's more than a few fics, I find it easier to download them with FicLab and combine them with EpubMerge, and I prefer keeping both the combined and the individual versions of fic, but again YMMV.
Reconverting and Converting
Once I'm done fussing, I reconvert the ebook to the same format, to ensure everything is embedded in the file. Is this necessary? YMMV, but it's a quick and easy step that does zero harm.
If you don't want your final ebook to be an epub, just convert it to whatever format you like.
Disclaimers
Save fanfic for your own personal enjoyment/offline reading/safeguarding against the future. If it's not your fic, don't distribute it, or upload it to other sites, or otherwise be a dick. Especially if the author deletes it. Respect their wishes and their rights.
This may work on other fanfic sites, eg FFN, but I've never tried so I don't know.
If you download a fic, do leave the author a kudo or a comment; you'll make them so happy.
This is how I save fic. I'm not pretending it's the only way, or even the best way! This is just the way that works for me.
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see-arcane · 1 month
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A little love note a certain bloodsucking bastard finds waiting for him with a bouquet of wild roses. Enjoy those holy hives while you’re still undead enough to feel anything <3
Anyway! Check for an update on The Vampyres under the cut.
One, I’ve been sinking steadily into madness trying to format everything for print versus ebook, fighting trim sizes and spacing and texts and fonts and alignments and docs-pdfs-docx-epubs-etcetcetc. My nightmares are full of useless tutorials.
I think I’m going to bite the bullet and just pay for professional epub conversion because I can’t seem to translate my manuscript into an epub version that doesn’t immediately ruin the layout of every single page. I’ve tried Calibre and Digital Editions and Convertio and they all keep vomiting up versions that knock all the paragraphs and pages over like textual Jenga towers. And I Am Tired.
Two, after spending half a month just grappling with a hydra made of text and graphic nitpicks, I will say that, by dint of human effort and/or selling my soul to the most publication-compatible demon on call, I will get this thing published before April or die trying.*
*(Bonus comedy points if I hit my daydream publication date of March 15th, a.k.a. the Ides of March, a.k.a. Stabathon Day. It’s fitting.)
Three, I have a tentative full book cover pic if you want to take a gander. :3
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I apologize for how long this monster is taking to be slain. I’ve been dragging myself through the worst end of Murphy’s Law on a number of fronts, not even including the layoff. But I am chipping at it. Slowly but surely. Mostly slowly. The closer I crawl to the finishing line, the more paranoid I become that I’ll shove this thing out the door only for a dozen errors to spawn overnight.
But it will be out. It will be done. And I’ll finally have this thing’s teeth out of my neck.
Ugh.
For Valentine’s Day, everyone send me a heart-shaped box full of energy, please and thank you.
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felassan · 5 months
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youtube
'Mass Effect 6 Easter Egg in Cyberpunk 2077 Phantom Liberty'
Text:
"MESSAGES > PIXEL FORTRESS The legendary Interstellar Commander series is BACK! After years of anticipation fans can once again board the Burgundy and travel at light speed to save the galaxy. But can the sixth installment of this beloved franchise still pack the same "oomph"? Or has it devolved into a lukewarm pile of "meh"? We've got the answer! Interstellar Commander 6: The Hunt for Baron Octavian still has everything that made us gush the series' previous entries. Spectacular battles on dazzling space stations? Check! Exploration of jaw-dropping exoplanets? You got it! Shocking plot twists! Affirmative! Yes, the controversial ending has been hard for some die-hard fans to swallow, but you'll have to experience it for yourself. Your mission: to track down the infamous, yet charismatic Baron Octavian who ticks all the boxes of a villain on a galactic scale. Our interaction with him largely depends on whether we go down the Paladin or the Scoundrel path. Multiple playthroughs are well worth the chance to discover the many facets of Octavian! It's just too bad the devs didn't make him into a romance option... but hey, that's what mods are for, right? Speaking of romance, we should emphasize that this adventure isn't just a rollercoaster ride of emotions, but also gives opportunities to really, erm... form deeper connections with your crewmembers and strengthen bonds with previous characters from the franchise. The popularity of a certain braindance of dubious quality and origin (relive at your own peril) which lets you find out whether the Burgundy's cannon is a worth substitute for a bed (spoiler: it isn't), leads us to believe players of all genders and tastes will be pleased. Especially given the return of all-time favorite Garriux, who hasn't lost an ounce of enthusiasm for carrying out his, ahem, calibrations... Long story short, hunting down Baron Octavian across the universe is going to be a helluva good time for all diehard fans of the series. As for you new potential players out there, how will you feel in the commander's polished space boots? Confident and capable, we hope! After all, the galaxy won't save itself!"
[source]
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snowdropluck204 · 4 months
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If You'll Let Me - Sebastian Sallow x Reader
So this is the first Hogwarts Legacy fic I've done, I hope it's okay... This is what I imagine could have happened after the official ending and the you choose NOT to turn Seb in! Enjoy! Xxx ______________________________
3rd Person pov
The battle was over, and the hero of Hogwarts was suspiciously missing, nobody had seen her, which wasn't uncommon all things considered. But the war was over, what more could she need to do? Granted poaching was still on the rise, Hogsmeade wasn't crime free... Ranrok's loyalists weren't gone, even with Rookwood dead and Harlow in Azkaban, their followers were still causing problems, petty theft at best, kidnap at worst.
(y/n) still had her hands full, but more recently, she'd been disappearing without notice. Ominis was especially confused. He had gotten close to the hero following all of her help with Sebastian, let alone saving the school from being destroyed and defeating Ranrok. They would spend time together, studying for classes and gossiping about the going ons around the school, but recently, she had been galavanting off to some unknown location every Friday evening.
Sebastian still hadn't spoken to (y/n) since he thanked her briefly for not turning him in, he was stubborn, he believed that she could have done more for Anne. All he wanted was for his sister to be the way she was, to join him and Ominis at Hogwarts again... He hadn't really meant to ignore her, but it wasn't entirely unintentional. But now... Now he wanted to speak to her, wanted to apologise properly.
Anne was getting better.
It wasn't something anyone was expecting, the healers and St Mungos couldn't explain what was happening, believing it was simply a miracle, or maybe because Rookwood was dead, as the wizard that cast the curse, perhaps him dying was what reversed it. All Sebastian knew, was that he had been a bad friend, and an even worse person... He didn't want to be that person anymore.
So he decided he would have to find (y/n), there was no way of knowing where she was though, each day he searched he seemed to become more and more blind to the reality of where she was. But he did become much more sighted to the good deeds that she had selfishly performed. Little things. Returning a goblin's mooncalf, finding a child's lost toy, or a fellow student's lost heirloom. (y/n) was constantly placing herself under harm's way, when most people would have turned a blind eye, she didn't, simply because she knew she was capable, sticking up for those who weren't.
Sebastian hadn't understood before, but he did now, he had seen the risk she was putting herself under, the stress it must have caused her, the worry, the loneliness. She hadn't been able to tell many people what she was up to, not without revealing her ancient magic... She had trusted him, and he'd thrown that trust away, without a second glance. Ominis says the feeling he has now is guilt. Of course he felt guilty! What else would he feel for throwing away what he had with such a wonderfully special person!?
Now he was practically kicking himself, questioning every decision he'd made. Granted he knew most of the decisions he'd made recently weren't of the best calibre... But his friendship with (y/n) had been, it was one of the best decisions he had made! But he still couldn't find her.
Sebastian had tracked his way through every nearby poacher den, flooed to the furthest acromantula nest. He had even spent a day in a puffskein den because (y/n) had told him a few months ago how watching them bounce about made her laugh and feel better after a rough day.
Now he was standing in front of the ridiculous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. He had heard of the Room of Requirement, had read diary entries of those who had supposedly come across it, and now he was trying to get it to reveal itself to him. It was the last room in the entire bloody castle he hadn't checked, it was the only logical place she could be! So he did what the diary entries had told him to, he paced back and forth in front of the tapestry, thinking. Willing it to appear in front of him.
And it did. A beautifully intricate door was willed into his existence. He looked around, nobody was watching, he opened the door and stepped in.
He knew there was nothing (y/n) couldn't do, but this was a lot. There were tables with magical plants and herbs growing, potions stations brewing a ridiculous amount of Wiggenweld and other duelling potions. (y/n) had always been prepared for any of the fights he needed her for, now he knew why. The room was huge, filled to the brim with interesting decorations and paintings, he could see the magical doorways that led to vivariums filled with beasts that she had saved from poachers.
He was so busy staring around the room in awe, he hadn't noticed a small house elf make his presence known. "Mistress (y/n)!" He cheered, "You're back from Feldcroft rather early, how did it all go?" Deek asked, before quickly shutting his mouth, seeing the freckled brunette instead of the Hero of Hogwarts. "Oh, Deek apologises... nobody ever uses this room except mistress (y/n)." He informed the confused teen.
Sebastian shook his head, "Wait, how long has (y/n) been using this room for?" He asked, curious, but also annoyed that she had hidden this from him.
Deek thought to himself before answering, he was usually under strict rules from Headmaster Black to answer all question put to him, honestly. So he did.
"Mistress (y/n) has been using the room almost since she first started the year at Hogwarts... Professor Weasley believed it would help her catch up on schoolwork..." Deek answered truthfully.
Sebastian's eyes flashed with hurt, he couldn't believe that (y/n) had been hiding this from him, from Ominis and Poppy and Natsai and Amit as well, probably. After everything they had done to help her! That's when another thing Deek had told him popped back into his mind.
"Hang on, did you say that she was at Feldcroft?" Sebastian asked slowly, confused. Why on earth would she be there? That's when he was reminded of his original purpose of entering the Room of Requirement, finding (y/n) so he could apologise for all he had done that year.
He said a quick goodbye to a very perplexed Deek, before making his way to the nearest floo station and travelling to his home village.
He searched everywhere he could think of, the duelling dummies, the farm, the ruins of Isadora Morganach. He was tired of looking, it was already so late, if he tried to get back to Hogwarts now he would be caught breaking curfew, so he decided to visit Anne, and stay the night there.
Anne had eventually made up with him, after he showed up crying at his uncle's funeral. As much as Solomon drove him mad, he was family, the last bit of family the twins had, and he had taken that away, so eventually, he had felt remorse.
Sebastian gave a brief knock on the wooden door before pushing it open, it was still his home after all. He went through, not finding Anne in the main room, so believed she was in her room. He once again knocked on the door, not hearing the gasps of both pain and relief.
Opening the door, he saw Anne laying peacefully in her bed, (y/n) sitting next to her, holding her hand. However, their joint hands were etched with thick veins of darkness.
(y/n) was gritting her teeth, presumably to avoid waking Anne from her very rare bout of peaceful slumber, but it was obvious how much pain she was in, much the opposite of how Sebastian was used to seeing the two. "What the hell is going on!?" He shouted, startling (y/n).
She broke the connection, the dark veins leaving her and Anne's arms. Her normally (e/c) eyes shot open, revealing bright, fluorescent red, which quickly faded. Sebastian's eyes darkened. "What were you doing to my sister!? You said that it was too dangerous to take away emotions, you hypocrite! If you could have helped her all this time, then why didn't you!? You've been lying to us all this time (y/n), why!?" He ranted.
She looked up at him calmly, her anger boiling silently under the surface of her skin. "Do you really think, that if I had wanted to help Anne sooner, I wouldn't have?" (y/n) asked calmly. "What would be my motive, just to get under your skin? I had seen what would happen if I tried to take any pain from your sister, I didn't want her to wind up a lifeless husk. And if I'm such a hypocrite Sallow, why would I even bother trying to save your sister now!?" (y/n)'s voice was rising quickly, a sign of just how angry she was.
"And if I'm such a liar, let's see if you can tell if I'm lying now. I've been spending the last few weeks here, taking your sister's pain and keeping it for myself? I just wanted to see you happy Sebastian! I have been researching endlessly, trying to find a way I could use what I have to help you both! Every waking moment since the battle happened, I have been tirelessly practicing, reading, writing, working. Just for you to shove it back in my face!" She shouted.
Sebastian was shocked, standing there blankly. "I-I'm so-"
"Oh you're sorry!? Really? After ignoring me for weeks, you only want to apologise now that you know I've done exactly what you wanted! I helped you find the scriptorium, I let you use the torture curse on me, I helped you find the crypt, helped with the inferi, saved you from Azkaban! What more can I do to prove to you that I care, that I love you!" She shrieked.
Sebastian was now even more shocked, stuttering and blubbering through his words. He was going to say something, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that whatever he said wouldn't be enough. Enough of an apology, enough of a reciprocation.
Instead he charged over to her, his heart melting when he saw the fiery glare in her eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips against hers. Once (y/n) had gotten over her own shock, she melted into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, relaxing into the kiss.
When Sebastian finally pulled away from the comfortable embrace, he sighed softly, "Nothing." He whispered, (y/n) looking at him in confusion until he finished his thought. "There is nothing else you need to do. Nothing I won't be there for now. I've thought you were one of, if not the most incredible person I have ever had such a pleasure to meet. I promised myself, I wouldn't do anything stupid, never push you away- Don't look at me like that, I know what I did!" He chortled.
"But I want to make up for it, if you'll let me?"
_____________________________
I hope this was okay! Let me know if you want me to write any more Hogwarts Legacy stuff, I would be into writing for any character really! Requests are open! Xxx
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wraithsoutlaws · 1 month
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TITLE: Perfect Drug CHAPTER ONE: Jawbreaker WORD COUNT: 4,309 PAIRING: Dagger/Dum Dum CW: Light violence, gore mention The story of how two fucked up guys become one fucked up couple.
The sky changed colors in the city. The endless scroll of neon gave it an artificial glow, and from the first moment he crossed the desert line, Dagger had resented it. Nothing looked real. Nothing was–not the food, the music. Certainly not the people. He found himself looking up as he drove further into it’s clutches, searching for a sliver of sky that felt familiar, but the only thing he found was a thinly veiled layer of bullshit.  Northside was different, though no less oppressive. The smokestacks kept the air murky, and no matter how many times he blinked or re-calibrated his optics, he couldn’t quite clear his vision of the red haze that defined it. But unlike Night City, it took pride in it’s own ugly. And he liked that. 
The All Foods factory sat like an icon at the center of it all, more mythical to the locals than even the crumbs of Arasaka littering the district. Dagger stood outside with a cigarette, gazing into it’s shuttered maw. 
A week had passed since he found his way to the building for the first time, toting a severed head in one hand, and a duffel of recovered Militech cargo in the other. He had taken both from a smoldering warzone in Sierra Sonorra where two behemoths fought their last battle; a cadre of Maelstrom gangoons and a unit of corpo dogs. He could have taken the wreckage back for the Wraiths. The gear would have fetched a pretty enny, and the head of a Milietech sergeant would make a lovely hood ornamented for his Quadra–but Dagger never cared for money, and he had plenty of heads already. 
He brought the cargo home to Northside instead, head in hand like a peace offering, still bleeding fresh after decapitation. He wanted a deal, not a payday. Something worth more than a shiny new car, or a pair of genuine leather boots, and after one long blurry fucking night, he got one.  
The Wraiths would protect Maelstrom’s interests in the Badlands and the ‘borgs would give them leverage in the city, pushing to wipe Sixth Street from Santo Domingo. Dagger would move between them, lending his skills to one while extending his power in the other.
In the end, he'd puppet them both.
His mama always said to dream big.
He pressed at a dwindling bruise over his ribcage as he double checked for his smokes in his jacket pocket. Each breath came with a dull ache that hadn’t quite quelled from that night, even a week later. He’d paid his price for admission. He could still feel the wreckage in his bones as he stood at the entrance of the garage, cigarette half smoked already, waiting for an answer at the door. The security camera at the edge of the roof peered down at him, it’s blinking red light a mimic of the trademark optics that were watching him from inside. And they were watching him. Making him wait, though they were the very ones who had set the meet. When he glared up at the lens, he could feel them on the other side.
Another minute passed. He threw his cigarette down, banging a fist to the rusted metal with impatience. After a moment of waiting he considered going around to the intercom, but it felt too much like defeat. He knocked again instead, kicking with a steel tipped boot for good measure and flicking another glare up to the camera. 
The noise must have worked. The door swung open with a growl, sudden enough it nearly took an inch off his nose. Before he could blink, the front end of a revolver shoved itself against the scar on his cheek, forcing his back to the wall with its presence. Seven eyes peered over the muzzle, a shiny chrome scowl beneath them. Dagger’s fist moved on instinct, nestled now against the underside of Dum Dum’s chin where the skin still felt human. The steel claws in the chassis of his hand inched in the sheaths between his knuckles, hungry for a drop of blood. They stood still, entwined in each other’s violence, neither one ready to budge.
“Keep that gun in my face any longer and I’ll get real acquainted with your fleshy bits.” He wasn’t sure which lens he should look at, or which ones were looking at him. His icy gaze settled on the ones that looked most like eyes, though he couldn’t read them. The tip of his claws met skin, just slightly. Enough bite to prove he wasn’t lying.
Dum Dum didn’t sweat it.
“You think your trigger is quicker than mine?”
“Might be fun to find out.”
The sound that came from his throat could have been a laugh. A moment later, Dum Dum drew the gun back and slid it into the waistband of his pants. Slowly, Dagger followed suit, letting his hand fall away with a tinge of disappointment. A click of his tongue.
“Scared?”
“My bullet would rip through your meatpan before your chrome even touched me,” Dum Dum said. He sounded sure, the weight of his optics nearly prying Dagger apart, scanning his hardware in bemusement. He wouldn’t find much, except maybe that his assessment was correct. Which begged the question: why not pull the trigger?
Dagger grinned.
“You gonna invite me inside?” 
Dum Dum didn’t answer, turning a corner toward the street without looking back at him. “Nothing in there for you.”
“Is that right?” Dagger pulled his cigarettes from his jacket and lit one as he followed. A busted up Chevillon was parked on the corner, garish Maelstrom colors splattered across the rusted paint like a badge of honor. Ugly, like everything else around it. He smiled. “Taking me out to pasture then?”
Smoke slithered from his lips as they walked. 
“You wanna play with the big dogs you’re gonna have to work like a bitch.” Dum Dum stopped at the car, and spared him an indecipherable look. “That means you do what I say, when I say it, how I say it. If I tell you to lick the shit off my boots you better fucking get on your knees and do it, yeah? Piss me off and it’s bye bye with a bullet. We’ll sell your meat to the Scavs without a second thought.”
Dagger raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took another drag from his smoke. “My god, I think I can see Royce’s hand up your ass using your mouth like a little puppet. Don’t you wanna be a real boy?”
Dum Dum looked tough, but Dagger had seen enough already to know that he folded for the big man as easy as paper. He half expected the gun again, but to his surprise, he only saw a smile on the other man’s face–teeth that looked too human to belong to him. The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop.
“You are one stupid motherfucker.”
He almost sounded impressed.
Dagger stared him down with the same grin, head tilting. Anyone else, he might skin them alive for the assertion but Dum Dum could be useful. No doubt more than any of the other rusted lugnuts lurking in the gang who’d still be more than happy to kill him. If he wanted this to work out, he’d need someone watching his back, and he’d already proved he wouldn’t pull the trigger.
Dum Dum slid into the driver’s seat and gestured for Dagger to go around. He wasn’t thrilled about playing passenger, his own car parked down the block, but he decided not to push it. He didn’t know his way around the city yet, let alone wherever the fuck they were headed. Or why.
He climbed into the Chevillon, choosing to play nice, a decision quickly waning as he waited for an explanation that never came. He blew smoke toward Dum Dum, a juvenile attempt to get his attention as the engine turned over.
“Got a problem, princess?” Dum Dum asked without looking. At least his head didn’t move.
Dagger leaned back in his seat. “Just wondering what the fuck I’m doing here.”
“You’re the one who knocked.”
“Funny.”
The car pulled onto the street. 
“Got a pick-up.” The flat drone of his voice gave away his own annoyance in the silence. “And I wasn’t bullshitting before. Do as you’re told and we won’t have a problem.”
Dagger rolled down his window to vent the smoke from his cigarette. “Pick-up? And here I was hoping for a little fun. Ain’t you lot known for your violence? No offense but thats a waste of my talent and I’m keen to believe it’s a waste of yours too.”
“Royce wants to know you can follow orders. You might be hot shit to those desert dogs but you’re a long way from the top out here.”
Something in the gravel of his tone indicated a warning, but Dagger flicked it off with the ash from his cig. He glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, watching the city blur past the tinted glass. Northside was less colorful than the rest of Night City, all smoke and concrete. In a way, it reminded him of home–the badlands, an endless sprawl of sun bleached dirt, harsh and rigid. Vibrant in its decay. They bore their similarities alright. He could smell fire in the air. A laugh lodged itself in his throat as he finally looked over.
“So that’d make you what, then? The babysitter?”
A grunt. There might have been humor in it. Or a threat.
“You should count yourself lucky. Anyone else prolly woulda shot you by now.”
Dagger didn’t doubt it for a second. Dum Dum was different from the rest, and somehow just the same. He followed orders, and crumbled like soggy paper for the top dog. Out of fear or loyalty, he couldn’t tell yet, but he lacked the self-respect to see that Royce would throw him out as soon as he wasn’t useful. He wondered what might happen if those strings pulled taut. If something sharp happened by to whittle them down. 
Dum Dum’s voice caught him by surprise.
“I’m actually impressed you’re still walking. Didn’t think you’d show up after that beating last week.”
“That right?” Dagger said, casually flipping down the visor ahead of him and examining his face in the two inch mirror. The bruise beneath his eye had faded from plum to a brown rot and for a moment he could feel the impact of the metal punch that knocked him on his ass again. It wasn’t the only one. His body was littered, like the canvas of an old painter–splashes of color hemorrhaging against his skin. He knew there was a cracked rib, probably a concussion, too. A few busted teeth, and more. Welcoming gifts from Maelstrom. It was his own suggestion, a last ditch effort to get close to the gang without having chrome shoved up his ass. An initiation plucked from his smuggling days. Each member got a single hit. If he was still alive by the end of it, he’d get in.
And Dagger always got in, smiling and spitting blood. He’d do it again just to prove that he could. 
“Hell, I thought that left hook from Lars might kill you.” Dum Dum laughed.
Dagger flipped the visor closed. “You kiddin’? My Daddy hit me harder for stealing a cigarette when I was eight years old.”
“You were prolly just a pussy back then.”
A grin cut across his lips as naturally as the sun cresting over the cityscape. “Well, he had a harder swing than you, at least.”
“Makes sense.” The car turned a tight corner and Dum Dum’s head tilted toward him for the first time. “Considerin’ I pulled my punch.”
Dagger met those empty red lenses with a raised brow. “The fuck you did.”
The crack of his own teeth rang out in his ears again, as if that chrome fist was crashing into his face all over. He could still remember his seven eyes watching him as he stumbled back, spitting blood and enamel in his face. He tongued the empty space on his bottom gum where the molar used to sit. Dum Dum had extracted it more seamlessly than the world’s best dentist ever could.
Pulled his punch. 
Dagger scoffed.
Dum Dum didn’t show any sign of humor. His silence said it all.
“And why the fuck would you do that?”
A pause. And then finally a smile.
“‘Cause the harder we hit you, the louder you laughed. Didn't wanna give you the satisfaction.”
Dagger’s face fell, as expressionless as the red lenses in front of him, which seemed now to burn holes through his chest in the silence. He should cut them from his skull, but the feeling passed at the sight of a smile on Dum Dum’s lips.
“Fuckin’ lunatic,” he said, somewhere between affection and dismay.
Dagger took it for a compliment. He grinned, and a bruise sang triumph beneath his skin. 
The car pulled off the street beside a painted wall that looked nearly identical to every other street corner in Northside. Dagger could find his way through every small vein of dusty road across the Badlands with his eyes closed but ask him to distinguish between one block or the next within the industrial sprawl of the district and he’d be lost. He pressed his forehead against the window and looked up. Not even the sky could help him. The shadow of the city all but smothered it. 
Dum Dum cut the engine. 
Wrecked cars littered the crowded alleyway where they sat now, nothing but skeletal remains, picked clean by the vultures. But there was one ahead of them, a black van that stuck out among the rest. The pick-up, if he had to wager.
“What are we waiting for?” he asked, his cigarette almost nothing but ash. He finally flicked it out the window. 
Dum Dum didn’t answer. He studied the van ahead of him in the quiet, and after a moment Dagger pushed his optics to scan it too. Standard. No heat signature inside, though there was something stored in the back, a chemical signature he couldn’t get a specific read on. Drugs, more than likely. Of course it was. He had heard the ‘strommers had their own brand of shit. The kind with enough kick to push past the thirty pounds of chrome in their head. 
“Something the matter with it?” On instinct, Dagger looked in the rearview, scanned the surrounding area. A flash of light flickered somewhere behind them and disappeared. He waited for it to happen again, but he saw nothing. 
“Gadge ain’t here,” Dum Dum said, tone flat. Once more unreadable.
“Taking a leak?”
A grunt. He leaned back in the seat, hand dropping down to the revolver wedged between his seat and the middle console. He flicked his head forward, toward the van. “Well, go on, bitch boy. Check it out.”
Dagger’s eyes narrowed, but he pushed back the urge to tell him to fuck off. He lit another cigarette on the way out. The street was quiet, though somewhere a few blocks down a siren echoed off the smokestacks. He paused when he reached the back of the van, head turning over his shoulder. There was nothing here. Nobody in sight beside those seven glowing eyes behind the glass, and still the hair rose on the back of his neck. 
No Gadge. No blood. No struggle. So why did he have a bad feeling? He focused his attention back to the van as Dum Dum waved a hand at him impatiently. Another quick scan told him the same information before he finally reached for the handle and pulled the bed open. A creak of metal cracked through his ears.
It almost deafened the gunshot.
Dagger ducked, dropping low without thought. His cigarette fell to the ground half burned, mocking him as another bullet riccochetted against the back of the van. His first thought was Dum Dum. Royce had changed his mind on the deal, ordered his execution. A quiet hit didn’t sound like his style, and Dagger was almost disappointed he wouldn’t get to see the ugly bastard one more time just to call him a fucking pussy to his face, but a moment later he could hear the ‘borg’s static voice yelling at him from the car to get the fuck up.
He stayed low, unable to pinpoint the direction of the gunshot, and made his way back to the passenger’s side of the Chevillon.
The engine sputtered to life at the same time as the van in front of him. He crawled inside just in time to witness the driverless van crash through a charred Mackinaw to the next street over.
“Fuck!” Dum Dum yelled, flooring the pedal before Dagger could get his foot pulled in all the way. “Shit’s hacked. Gonk’s don’t know who they’re messing with.” 
He rammed through the same debris as the van but caught a harsh edge of metal, and the Chevillon stalled for a moment before struggling through. The ringing in Dagger’s ears hadn’t stopped, and he only realized his hand was bleeding when he reached for his third smoke. 
“Hack means their close.”
Dagger rolled the window down and stuck his head out, catching the stale air of Northside in a suffocating wind. He could see the van ahead of them like a black smear, but it wasn’t the van he was interested in. Quickhack on a vehicle was useful, but it had drawbacks. One being proximity. Had to be close or you lost connection, even with boosted gear. 
A small Hatchback swung suddenly out from a sidestreet, narrowly missing their car as it sped past. Dum Dum swerved and lost a foot of paint on a fire hydrant in attempt to keep steady. Dagger scanned it as it followed track with the van, spitting chooh2 to catch up. Two signatures inside. A runner.
He ripped the gun from Dum Dum’s seat and pulled himself halfway out the window to take aim. He shot quickly and near blind, bullet lost in the wind as the chase veered left. 
“Fuckin’ shoot steady,” Dum Dum yelled over at him.
“Drive fuckin’ steady,” Dagger snapped, and this time he held his breath as he aimed for the speeding car. A shot came back at him in response and he ducked back into the window before firing again. The windshield spiderwebbed but the car stayed true, zipping through a line of traffic as they headed into a busier part of the district. A horn blared beside him. The hatchback disappeared between two trucks, and Dum Dum struggled on the wheel, crashing into the edge of a turning car and nearly throwing the gun from Dagger's slick, bloody grasp when he shot again.
He couldn’t track where the bullet hit, but he could tell that it missed.
With a growl, Dagger reached over for the wheel.
“Switch me places.” It was a command more than a question, but Dum Dum didn’t protest. He ripped the gun from Dagger’s hand as Dagger pushed his leg over to the gas pedal and shimmied across the seat in an awkward dance, climbing over him without slowing the vehicle until they both settled into their new positions.
Dum Dum took aim as naturally as Dagger did the wheel. He was no stranger to this, or to the electricity running through his chest as he gripped the wheel knuckle tight, grin spreading over his lips.
The tight streets were no match for an open road, but it got his blood pumping all the same. 
He could barely make out the back of the car up ahead, but he could see the rear light explode as Dum Dum fired beside him, leaving red glass sparkling on the pavement like blood. Another shot bellowed, and the hatchback veered wildly, nearly toppling sideways as it made a sharp turn. 
Dagger followed, cutting the same corner with the ease of sharpened steel. He couldn’t see the van further up, but he locked his optics onto the car. Blood splattered the window, and he knew that Dum Dum had hit one of them inside. The engine groaned as he pushed it further. The Chevillon didn’t have the same gumption as his Quadra. He could feel the waiver in her gait, but they were close now. Dum Dum felt it too. He braced his arm on the roof. One good shot is all they’d need.
Dagger seamlessly crossed over the center line, taking the opposite lane to blow past several cars that separated them from their goal. Traffic sped by, so close it rocked the car, but he didn’t flinch.
One. Good. Shot.
Dum Dum fired. 
Blood sprayed the windshield. 
The hatchback veered suddenly into a passing car, which came to a skidding stop, halting the traffic behind it and keeping Dagger from passing back over into the right lane. His mind raced, and on instinct he took a quick left to avoid collision, and then another.
Dum Dum screamed in his ear, but the words were deafened from wind, the ringing, the sirens. Neon lights burned together, flashing against his corneas. 
“Wrong fuckin’ way!” He heard finally.
The streets grew narrower, and then he understood. 
He could smell the ocean. 
 Northside’s warehouses were a shadow in the rearview as they headed toward the bay into Kabuki. Tyger territory. They had crossed the district line. 
Dum Dum reached for the wheel in a last ditch effort to change course. The momentum of the turn threw them upward, tires leaving the ground. The car spun uncontrollably, flipped, crashing through the barricade on the side of the road in a explosion of crunching metal. 
He could see the ocean.
A smear of open blue that could match the sky his heart yearned for. It was beautiful.
Almost.
And it hit like a fucking rock. 
His vision blacked for a moment before the water caved in around them. Slowly, then all at once. He barely had time to take in a lungful of air. Kicking at the door wildly, he swam away from the wreckage as the sea pulled them under. His gaze shot upward, searching once more for the sky to lead him. He followed the light up and up, chest starting to ache, until finally he found it.
Dagger gasped as he breached, shaking water from his eyes. He didn’t recognize the city around him, but he spotted a dock nearby. He swam toward it, then stopped. Looked back. The only remains of the Chevillon were petering bubbles at his back, and smooth water beside that. There wasn’t any sign of Dum Dum. By the look of him, he’d sink as quick as the car.
He glanced between the dock and the bubbles and back again. 
All that fucking chrome…
Walking back to All Foods without the drugs and their sergeant at arms might earn himself a spot in that industrial microwave that Maelstrom liked to boast. Dum Dum was the only one who didn’t want to kill him, after all.
“Fuck.”
He spit water then took another breath and dived.
The car left a trail like ink in the murky water. Dagger clawed toward it, dragging himself further down into the dark depths. Day turned to night. The city was different here, peaceful, and if not for the pounding in his ears, quiet. 
The distant red glare of those eyes shined like a beacon further down. He followed them like the north star, pushing himself to go faster. Dum Dum kicked despite himself, maybe instinct, maybe panic, but his weight worked against him, pulling him down quicker. Dagger pushed harder, reached further. Dum Dum finally noticed him, lenses fixed and unwavering, a calm coming over him as he finally got close enough to grab. Dagger heaved upward, working against the ocean’s cold grasp and the anchor like weight dragging him down. His chest began to burn, and the sky still looked so dark above them. 
He considered letting go, eyes squeezed tight, angry ‘ganic lungs ready to burst. 
And then he could breathe again.
He reached blindly for the dock ladder, trying hard not to heave. Dum Dum climbed up beside him, still as a corpse.
“Fucking gonk shit,” he muttered.
Dagger almost didn’t catch it over the sound of his panting. He laid flat on his back, taking in the welcome blue above him. He could finally see a break in the cityscape, clouds sneaking in at the edge of his vision. 
“Quite a fuckin’ thank you,” Dagger said without taking his eyes from above.
“Oxygen reserves. Could sit down there all day.”
He sat up slowly, running a hand through wet, matted hair. “All the good it’d do you. Be a pile of rust by the time they found you. If they found you.”
Dum Dum laughed. Short, quick static. Somehow it sounded genuine.
“And I’m sure you did that outta the kindness of your heart.”
“What fuckin’ heart?” He said flat, patting down his pockets for his cigarettes. He pulled the pack out, sopping wet. He didn’t bother trying to light one before he tossed them into the bay with a sigh. “Owe me some fucking smokes.”
Dum Dum opened his mouth to speak, but the words never made it. He lifted his head, and though he couldn’t see exactly, Dagger knew he was looking past him. A gun cocked at the back of his head. Cold barrel against his skull. He clenched his jaw, and turned to see a woman he didn’t recognize staring down at him behind glass eyes.
His automatic translator picked up her words better than his ears.
“Welcome to Kabuki, bitch.”
72 notes · View notes
Note
Hello! How are you? I hope you're doing okay!!
I recently got a Wacom for the first time and I'm beginning to figure out the whole "drawing digitally in a computer" thing, but I've got some problems with my pulse where my hand shakes a lot whenever I do a line. If you have experience with these types of drawing tablets, could I get some advice?
Thanks and have a nice day :3
Hey, welcome to the world of digital art!
The first recommendation is - give yourself a few days to adjust. At first, my lines were also very shaky. It takes time to get your muscles to cooperate.
Second - make sure you've calibrated the pen pressure and settings to your liking. Go into the WACOM control panel and click around until you find the Calibration part and make sure everything is set the way you like it.
Third - check your drawing program! Does it have 'Correction' or 'Stabilization' settings?
In my program, MediBang, I have this bar when I select the pen tool, called Correction:
Tumblr media
Play around with it and see if it helps at all. If you make it too high, it might slow the program down, but usually adjusting that setting helps the pen flow smoother.
Have fun drawing! :)
68 notes · View notes
kallie-den · 21 days
Text
Marital Aid Ch. 1
Clea uses hypnosis to liberate her boss, Isabella, from a failing marriage… and awaken her to the life as a kinky lesbian
This story was a commission from one of my patrons! Thank you very much to Myles_EXVS for their kind support
If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)
---
“Clea?” The sound of Bruna’s voice brought Clea back to herself. “You’re supposed to be spotting for me, babe.”
“Right.” Clea shook her head, blushing a little. “Sorry.”
“Hold on.”
Bruna strained and groaned as she lifted the monstrously heavy bar up over her head and placed it back onto the rack. She sat up on the exercise bench, and Clea apologetically offered her a sweat towel to wipe her forehead off with. Clea was a little jealous of just how good her friend looked when she was working out; Bruna had the kind of muscular figure that made other girls drool, and her deep brown, Brazilian skin always glistened appealingly when she was flushed and sweating from exertion. Clea couldn’t relate.
“OK,” Bruna said, after taking a swig of water. “What’s on your mind? Out with it.”
Clea sighed and sat down on the bench next to her. Unfortunately, Bruna knew her too well. The two of them had been gym buddies for a long time, and friends for longer.
“It’s…” Clea didn’t know where to begin. It was far too embarrassing.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Bruna asked sympathetically.
“Yeah.” Clea planted her head in her hands. “Yeah. It is.”
She didn’t need to explain who ‘her’ was. They both knew.
Isabella.
“Oh, girl.” Bruna threw one of her big, strong arms across Clea’s shoulder. “You’re down seriously bad.”
Clea groaned and leaned in. She didn’t need Bruna to tell her that. Isabella consumed her every waking thought. The reason she’d been zoning out when she was supposed to be spotting for Bruna was because she’d been caught up in picturing Isabella’s smiling face. She’d reached schoolgirl levels of hopeless infatuation.
And there were two massive problems with it.
Firstly, Isabella was her boss. Clea was pretty sure that falling in love with the woman she worked for wasn’t part of a personal secretary’s job description. Workplace romances like that never worked out, and she was sure Isabella was too much of a stickler to ever consider it. There was also an accompanying age gap - Clea was in her mid-twenties while Isabella was in her thirties. That didn’t bother her so much, especially since Clea had such a fondness for older women, but it was yet another obstacle.
The second, much bigger problem was that Isabella was both straight and married.
“Falling for a straight girl.” Clea sighed again, heavier. “She’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I wish I could just forget about all these feelings and move on. It’s so hard, having to be near her, day after day, never being able to act on them.”
“I bet,” Bruna said soothingly. She reached up and started stroking Clea’s long, red hair.
“And the worst part is seeing that she’s not happy!” Clea vented. “Her pig of a husband makes her miserable, I can just tell. Why couldn’t it be me instead? I’d treat her the way she deserves. I’d treat her like a queen.”
“I know you would,” Bruna assured her. She paused for a moment and then turned to look closely at Clea, a cunning smile on her face. “You know, babe, you do have a way of making that happen.”
Clea threw a sharp look up at her. “I don’t even know if it works.”
“Oh, it works,” Bruna told her, grinning. “I was going to tell you afterward. I tested it very thoroughly. I have all the data you said you’d need to make the final calibrations.”
“Yeah, I bet you were thorough,” Clea snorted. “I heard a few rumors about what you’ve been up to with that heiress girl.”
“Now, now. I don’t kiss and tell.” Bruna’s grin took on a cocky, swaggering quality. Clea’s friend loved to kiss and tell. “Anyway, the point is: it’s amazing! I can’t believe my friend knows how to mind-control people. It’s like you’re a supervillain or something.”
At that, Clea laughed. “It’s just a hobby,” she retorted. “I’ve always liked audio mixing and video editing. It started with music videos, but then I got really curious about how different kinds of sounds and different frequencies can affect the human mind. And, uh, I guess one thing lead to another.”
The ‘another’, in this case, was a suite of software and a set of techniques that allowed her to create audio and video files that had a potent, hypnotic effect on the listener. Clea could almost literally reprogram them with whatever commands she chose - at least, within reason and with enough exposure. Clea objected to the idea that she was some kind of supervillain, but admittedly, the description wasn’t too far off.
“So,” Bruna pressed, “why not put all that work to good use?”
“You mean… with Isabella?” Clea frowned. “No. In fact, I don’t even want that experimental data. I don’t want to think about it.”
"Why not? Just think about it! No more yearning, no more heartache. You could have her.”
Clea felt a definite, stirring pang, but looked away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it is,” Bruna countered.
“I-it wouldn’t be right.”
“From what you said about her husband, it sounds like she’d be happier with you,” Bruna pointed out. “Why not think of it as giving her a little push towards a happy ending? You can’t tell me that’s not part of what this was all for. The testing. Your little hobby.”
“It just…” Clea stood up, shrugging off Bruna’s arm, and started to pace. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t feel right. Not with her.”
“Why not?” Bruna asked again, a touch exasperated.
“Because I care about her, Bruna,” Clea replied. “She’s not just a pretty girl I’m looking to get into bed. It’s more than that. I want her to be happy.”
“You could make her happy,” Bruna pointed out. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“Maybe she’s happy right now,” Clea shot back. “Maybe that’s why she’s still with him. I don’t know. That’s the point. I can’t just decide that for her. What if I’m wrong? What if I make it worse?”
“Wow, babe,” Bruna said, raising an eyebrow. “You really are down bad.”
Clea sank back down miserably onto the bench. “Yeah. I know.”
Bruna squeezed her shoulder. “Well, here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said. “We’re going to keep working out until you’re so exhausted you can barely think. Then we’re gonna go back to my bar and get drunk until you definitely can’t think. Sound good?”
“God yes,” Clea sighed.
“Atta girl.” Clea stood up, allowing Bruna to lie back down along the exercise bench, and rest her hands back on the barbell. As she did, she threw Clea one last look. “But just remember: you ever change your mind, and the data’s yours. Just give me a call.”
***
The next evening, Clea’s head was still throbbing from the hangover. Bruna drank hard, and her bar was well-stocked. The headache was a welcome pain. A welcome distraction. To take her mind off of it, and off of everything else, she was preparing a nice, big pot of stew. It would take the edge off her hangover, and give her some welcome nourishment for the week to come. The stew was still simmering on her stovetop, however, when Clea found herself much, much more distracted by a message she’d just received.
Can I come over?
It was from Isabella.
Clea’s boss, the woman she was hopelessly head-over-heels for, had just texted her on a Sunday evening to ask to come over to her apartment. Maybe she should have replied with ‘no’, or ‘I’m busy, sorry’. Maybe she should even have left her on read. There were reasons to. Refusing would have helped maintain professional boundaries, and would have helped Clea stop torturing herself about a doomed romance.
Instead, she had replied ‘yes’ right away.
And now, as she waited for Isabella to arrive, Clea was left with nothing to do but watch her stew simmer and wonder about what, exactly, had happened. She and Isabella had a friendly and warm relationship at work, to be sure. Sometimes they even confided in one another a little - that was how Clea had caught a hint of her marital issues. But suddenly dropping in to visit Clea at her apartment? That was completely unprecedented.
Clea desperately wanted to know why. But with Isabella already on her way, there was nothing for her to do except keep pacing back and forward across her kitchen restlessly, wondering, trying to stop herself from giving in to needless speculation or fruitless hope. Occasionally, she couldn’t help dashing over to the mirror in her bathroom to make sure that she looked presentable. Part of her wanted to put on some makeup, but the knowledge that she’d look like she’d gotten all dolled up on a Sunday night just to stay home and cook held her back.
Eventually, mercifully, the buzzer for her apartment rang.
Clea rushed down and opened the door as quickly as she could, and let out a mourning gasp when she laid eyes on her boss.
Isabella had been crying. That much was obvious from the way her eyes were red from tears and wide with worry. It pained Clea to see her beauty marred by such sadness. She was still beautiful, though. Clea was struck by that every single time she saw her boss.
Isabella Chase was aging more than gracefully into her thirties. Put simply, she had a figure to die for, and looked just as killer in the t-shirt and jeans she was currently wearing as she did in the smart, well-tailored business wear Clea was used to seeing on her. She had a slender, pretty face, with high, arched, sharp cheekbones that somehow became rounded and full when she laughed and smiled, lighting up her whole face. Her short, black, shoulder-length hair framed her features perfectly, and her tanned, brown skin took on a thousand tones in a different light. Clea never got tired of looking at her. She just hoped her boss hadn’t noticed the way she stared. Especially since Isabella did know that Clea was a lesbian.
“Hey,” Clea said awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”
As soon as she saw Clea, Isabella sagged. “I’m sorry,” she said heavily. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“What? No!” Clea replied urgently. “Don’t say that. You’re more than welcome.”
Isabella just sniffled and shook her head miserably. “It’s not appropriate. I’m your boss. You shouldn’t have to…”
“Just come in.” Clea reached out and touched Isabella on the shoulder, lightly. “Please?”
Isabella nodded, just as miserably, but allowed Clea to guide her inside and upstairs into her apartment. Once there, Clea immediately set to fussing over her boss. She got her seated comfortably on the couch, and then went to make tea for the both of them. When she returned, two steaming mugs in hand, she sat down next to Isabella. A worried frown was carving lines into her face.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Isabella repeated, although she seemed more settled than before. “I’m your boss. You put up with me enough at work.”
“Nonsense,” Clea told her firmly. “You put up with me just as much. We can call it even.”
That made Isabella smile, which made Clea smile.
“I just didn’t know where else to go, I suppose,” Isabella explained apologetically, sipping tentatively at her tea. “I guess I didn’t really want my friends to see me like this. So I just started driving around, and then I was in the neighborhood, and I remembered your address, and… well, you’re just so easy to talk to, at work. So I just…”
“I’m glad you did,” Clea said. “Really. It’s not an imposition. But you do have to tell me what’s going on. That’s the only condition.”
Isabella laughed, sniffled again, and nodded. “Well, it’s… it’s him. Again. Robert. My husband.”
A furious shiver raced down Clea’s spine. It was just as she’d suspected. Her husband was the only thing she’d ever seen get anything close to this far under Isabella’s skin.
“What did he do now?” Clea’s voice approached a growl.
“He didn’t…” Isabella started to say in instinctive defensiveness, before sagging again. “It’s not like that, exactly. We just had another fight.”
“I see,” Clea said tersely.
“I want kids,” Isabella said. Now that she was unburdening herself, it came out easy. She wasn’t looking at the expression on Clea’s face. “I want a family. I do. And I thought he wanted that too. I mean, we always said… but now I don’t know. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he gets so…”
Clea worried for all the unspoken things she could hear in Isabella’s voice. “Do you mean…”
“No,” Isabella told her. “Not like that. But he gets so closed off about it. So short-tempered. It’s like… it’s like me, and what I want, are just annoyances to him. You know?”
“Yeah.” Clea had to fight not to grind her teeth. “I know what you mean.”
“It’s at the point where I just don’t know what to do,” Isabella went on. “I just assumed we’d work on it, over time, together, but it’s starting to seem like it isn’t going to get better. I don’t know what to do anymore. Today, when I tried to talk to him, we ended up arguing. And when he started yelling at me, I just… I had to get out of there, Clea.”
“Get out of there?” Hope, tinged by guilt, started to swell in Clea’s bosom. “Like-”
“I mean, how am I supposed to go back to him now, after running out like that?”  The words kept flowing out of Isabella. She was starting to tear up again. “Sometimes I feel like I just can’t take it anymore.”
Clea paused for a long moment to gather her courage before saying: “Maybe… you don’t have to. Go back, I mean.”
Isabella looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re better than him, Isabella!” Clea cried. “It’s obvious. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful, you’re kind, you work hard and support yourself and others. If you want a family, you deserve one. You deserve someone who wants to have that with you.”
Her boss let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. “That’s… a nice thought, Clea.”
“I’m serious!” Clea insisted fiercely. “I know it’s a cliche, but there are so many other people out there who could make you happy. You shouldn’t have to devote your life to someone who doesn’t even care enough to talk to you about what you want!”
“It’s not that easy.” Isabella seemed to tense up. “I can’t just walk out on him like that.”
“Why not?” Clea couldn’t bring herself to hold back now. “You don’t need him, Isabella. And you said so yourself - it seems like it isn’t going to get better. So what are you staying with him for?”
“I… I guess I don’t really have a good answer to that,” Isabella admitted. “But I do know one thing. I’m not a quitter. That’s how I’ve made it this far, right?”
“Isabella…” Clea slumped back against the couch cushion, defeated. She could hear the resolve in her boss’s voice, and she recognized all too well the kind of self-defeating logic Isabella was trapping herself in.
“Maybe it’s a little silly,” Isabella said, smiling sadly to herself. “But I really meant all those things I said at the altar. The promises. In sickness and in health, stuff like that. I… I know you mean well, Clea. I just think I need to see this through properly.”
There was nothing for Clea to do but look down and sigh. “I understand,” she said, even though she didn’t.
It took all the strength she had not to blurt out that it should have been her. That she was the one who could make Isabella happy that way. That she would be overjoyed to give Isabella the family her husband wouldn’t.
But of course, her words would have fallen on deaf ears. Isabella was straight, and that was that.
Before Clea knew it, the two of them had lapsed into uncomfortable silence. The only sound in the apartment was the occasional noise of each of them sipping at their tea. Clea knew she had to fix it.
“Hey,” she said abruptly, planting as bright a smile as she could muster on her face. “Well, if you want to stay here, just for tonight, you’d be more than welcome. I mean it. We can have a girls’ night. This couch folds out, and it’s actually not as bad as it-“
The sound of Isabella’s phone lighting up with a text message interrupted her.
Her boss snatched at her phone like a drowning woman at a life ring. The expression of manic, desperate hope on her face as she read the message tore Clea’s heart in two, and immeasurable dread washed over her. She knew exactly what was happening.
“Thank you,” Isabella said to Clea, already gathering herself. “That’s such a kind offer. B-but I need to go now, actually.” She gestured to her phone. “He’s worried about me, and he wants to talk.”
She was smiling as she said it, although Clea knew even Isabella didn’t really believe in whatever platitudes her husband was offering. She was just forcing herself to, because it was the only way she could keep going. Isabella’s smile was as fragile as glass, and Clea couldn’t bring herself to be the one that broke it.
“Sure.” Clea desperately hoped her own smile didn’t look too fake or forced. “Of course. I understand. And, anytime. I promise.”
She walked Isabella out of the building and the two of them said their goodbyes. But the whole time, Clea could only think about how disgustingly false this all was. She’d met Isabella’s husband two or three times, at various work-related social functions. She knew what a boor he was. She knew he wasn’t going to change. But, clearly, he was willing to keep stringing Isabella along with false hope and false kindnesses until it ground her into dust.
Dwelling on it left a pit of nausea in Clea’s stomach. It wasn’t right. She couldn’t let this happen. Not to Isabella.
And there was something she could do about it.
Once Clea got back up to her apartment, she reached for her phone and messaged Bruna.
I need the data.
***
The next morning, it took Clea quite some time to gather her courage before she could bring herself to head into Isabella’s office and bring her boss her morning coffee. Her anxiety was twofold. First, she was afraid that the atmosphere between them would be heavy with the weight of what had happened the day before; with Isabella’s unexpected vulnerability, and Clea’s unwelcome advice. And second, she was afraid that Isabella would see how nervous she was, and somehow sense what she was about to do.
Her first fear, at least, was dispelled from the first moment she knocked and pushed open the door. Isabella was already behind her desk, hard at work, but she rose to greet Clea with a broad grin.
“Clea! Good morning,” she gushed. “Oh, is that my latte? I seriously need it.”
“Of course,” Clea replied. “Same as ever.”
She placed the cup holder on Isabella’s desk, but she must have seemed a touch awkward because Isabella quickly reached out for her hand.
“Hey, um,” Isabella began, “I wanted to say, about yesterday… I’m sorry. Not for turning up - you made it clear that you were happy to help, and I appreciate that a lot. You’re amazing, honestly. The best secretary I could ever ask for.”
Clea’s cheeks started to burn and glow from the praise.
“Instead, I’m sorry for putting you square in the middle of my marital, uh, issues,” Isabella said. “I’m sure that was really, really awkward.”
“No,” Clea replied. “Um, actually, I’m glad you felt like you could confide in me. And… actually, I’m sorry too. I went way too far.”
“Nonsense,” Isabella told her firmly, smiling. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. To be honest, the advice you gave is exactly what I’d probably give to any of my friends if they were in the same position.”
That acknowledgment brought forth another heavy sigh that piqued Clea’s curiosity.
“May… I ask how it went?” Clea ventured cautiously.
“Good.” Isabella nodded firmly. “At least, I think it was good. We talked, and maybe we didn’t fix our problems yet, but we’re going to keep talking. What more can you ask for, right?”
She was trying to sound brave and sure, and it almost worked. Almost. But Clea knew her boss better than most. Better than her own husband, she’d guess. She saw Isabella every single day at work, and she knew when she was merely putting a brave face on something.
Looking deeper, Clea could see the signs. Under her eyes, she was using a little too much makeup to try and conceal some dark circles. Her eyes themselves were still tinged red. Her hair was a little messier and less lustrous than usual; probably, she’d gone to bed without doing her routine. And, most tellingly of all, her shoulders were sagged slightly in exhaustion and defeat, the way they only usually were on a Friday evening after a truly hellish week.
She wasn’t OK. It hadn’t been good. And that meant there was no reason at all for Clea to hold back.
“Well,” Clea began, “I was thinking, last night. And I have something that I think might help you a little.”
Isabella’s head tilted dubiously.
“Not with the, uh, issues,” Clea added hastily. “Just with how it all feels. It’s something for self-care.”
“Oh!” Isabella brightened immediately. “Clea, that’s so thoughtful.”
Clea had to look away for a moment. “Don’t mention it.”
“So?” Isabella asked eagerly. “What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense!”
Clea swallowed anxiously. This was it.
“This might sound a little weird,” she said, “but I have these… experimental music videos. They’re meant to help you relax. Think of it like… like meditation. Making them is kind of a hobby of mine, actually. I know it’s a little silly, but some people have said they’re really helpful. So, I made one for you.”
She blushed as she said that. Even the half-truth was embarrassing. Isabella, though, looked overjoyed.
“You did?” she exclaimed. “Oh my god, Clea! Thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”
Clea blushed again. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Of course I do,” Isabella replied. “I’ve never really tried meditation before, but you’re certainly right to think that I could use something to help me relax a little. I’d love to give it a try.”
“Great!” Clea’s relief was immeasurable, and she found herself grinning from ear to ear. She whipped out her phone. “I’ll send you the video right away. You can just listen to it whenever you have a quiet moment. Just… make sure to grab some headphones. And, uh, make sure you won’t be disturbed.”
“Got it!” To Clea’s great surprise, Isabella pulled her into a brief but warm hug. “Clea, you deserve a raise. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Things have been so hard lately. It’s truly…”
“Hey.” Clea squeezed Isabella tight as her boss trailed off. “I know. But, Isabella, I can promise you that things are going to get much, much better for you very soon. I can just feel it.”
Once the two of them pulled apart, Isabella’s eyes were glistening.
“Thank you,” she said. “The way you said that almost makes me believe it.”
Clea and Isabella shared a laugh before Isabella went to sit back down at her desk. Clea took that as her cue.
“Let me know if you need anything,” she said, retreating out of her boss’s office. “I’ve got your first call for the day lined up in about twenty minutes.”
With that, each of them returned to the humdrum of a normal workday - but the whole time, Clea was burning with anticipation as she thought about what was going to happen once Isabella finally sat down to listen to what Clea had sent her.
***
The sun was getting low in the sky by the time Isabella’s thoughts turned back to Clea’s gift. It had been a long, busy day of work, with no chance for her to take time out to meditate. But now, the office was quiet. Everyone had gone home - even Clea, who seemed to have been lingering for some reason. Isabella figured she was probably worried about her. Clea was such a sweet girl that way.
Isabella really couldn’t blame her for being worried. Not after the way she’d fled to Clea’s apartment the day before. Just thinking about it was still incredibly embarrassing. Clea had been very kind about it, but Isabella was sure her secretary didn’t genuinely want to spend her weekends dealing with her boss’s personal problems.
Hopefully, earlier, when she’d told Clea that things were looking up, she’d sounded convincing enough to put the younger woman at ease.
The truth was… more complicated.
And that, regrettably, was part of why Isabella was staying late at work. It was the perfect excuse to spend a little less time at home.
Isabella sighed to herself. Admitting that, even in her own head, felt humiliating. Where had it all gone so wrong? When she had gotten married, she’d assumed that would be her happy ending. Having kids seemed like the natural next step - they’d even talked about it, briefly, a few times. Now, Robert got mad every time she brought it up. It was like he’d never wanted a family at all.
Another sigh. These thoughts were doing nothing but making Isabella upset again. They certainly weren’t helping her to get any work done, and the only thing worse than staying at the office to work overtime was staying at the office to do nothing except cry.
Which was why Isabella’s thoughts had turned to that relaxation music video Clea had made for her.
What better time to try it than now?
Isabella took a moment to dim the lights and close the blinds on the windows before sitting back in her office chair and pulling up the video file Clea had sent to her. The first frame looked like nothing but an indistinct mess of colors, and Isabella found herself a little skeptical that a simple music video would be able to offer everything Clea had promised. But, determined to give it a proper try, she took a series of long, deep breaths after putting in her earbuds.
“OK, here goes,” she said to herself, and pressed ‘play’.
Immediately, the screen in front of her exploded into dizzying patterns of motion that made Isabella gasp. There was such depth, vividness and beauty to the colors. It immediately drew Isabella in and captivated her, making her eyes pull wide open in an instinctive bid to drink in everything that was on the screen of her computer.
It was so overwhelming, she barely even noticed the sound playing through her earbuds.
It was music, but unlike any other Isabella had heard, and she only considered it to be music at all because of the vaguely harmonic quality of all the strange beats and tones playing in her ears. All of them were low and resonant; she felt them through her whole body, and underneath them was something like whispering, perhaps a voice, perhaps not. Whatever it was, Isabella found herself unable to bring it into focus.
Instead, all of her attention was on the screen. The true pattern formed by the colors was starting to unfold. At first, she thought it was a spiral, pulling inward, but she soon realized it was pushing outward instead, kaleidoscopic, like an ever-unfurling flower, revealing more of itself with each passing moment. Every new color that appeared at the center of the screen was a revelation, but then the whole image would turn, revealing more of itself yet again, along dizzying lines of symmetry.
Isabella couldn’t look away. Not even when her eyes started to ache from staring. She just slumped back into her seat and started to drool. She had been instantly hypnotized.
The music was getting louder, but Isabella didn’t stir, not even when lyrics started to appear inside her head. Not lyrics; mantras. Simple, blunt statements of fact that Isabella couldn’t seem to bring herself to question. They came one after another, layering atop one another, hammering themselves into her head until they felt like her own thoughts, no matter how strange and foreign they were.
They were true. She knew that. She just knew.
You are a lesbian, Isabella.
It was a hard thing to accept. Isabella had never once thought of herself as anything other than straight. She was even married to a man. So… how hadn’t she noticed it sooner? It seemed so hard to square away, and yet she knew she had to.
You don’t like men.
Isabella stirred. That didn’t seem right. She liked her husband, didn’t she? That was why she’d married him. She loved him… or so she’d thought. But she was a lesbian, so that didn’t make sense. And since she was a lesbian, it seemed only natural that she didn’t like men. Isabella reflected on how she’d felt about her husband in recent days. It hadn’t been positive.
Of course. She was a lesbian, and she didn’t like men.
You cannot orgasm with men.
Isabella blushed faintly, but settled. As unfamiliar as that thought was, it seemed to fit. She was a lesbian, and she didn’t like men. It made perfect sense that she couldn’t orgasm with men.
Her recent experiences with her husband certainly bore that out, too.
You can only orgasm with women.
Each new mantra, each new truth, was getting easier and easier to accept. They intersected and interlinked, mutually reinforcing one another, forming a net wrapped tight around Isabella’s mind. 
Forming a new self. A new identity.
You are attracted to Clea.
Isabella gasped. Clea? She’d never once looked at her secretary in that light. It would be completely and totally unprofessional of her.
And yet…
Now that the thought had crossed her mind, she couldn’t un-think it. Clea was pretty. There was certainly no denying that. She had a lovely figure, and such cute freckles, and her long, gorgeous, red hair was so striking. Anyone would call her attractive.
But Isabella wasn’t just anyone. She was a lesbian. She could only cum with women. So, naturally, it meant more to her. It wasn’t just about acknowledging Clea’s attractiveness. It was about feeling it.
Isabella was definitely attracted to Clea.
You are very attracted to Clea.
The intensity of her newly-discovered attraction more than doubled with the repetition. Suddenly, just thinking about her secretary made Isabella squirm in her chair and sent a thrill-shock of pleasure between her legs. She couldn’t believe an attraction this potent had crept up on her, but maybe it wasn’t surprising, if her lesbianism had too.
It was all but unbearable. How was she going to handle seeing Clea tomorrow? How was she going to not blush and stammer every time she looked at her? The worst part was that Clea was a lesbian too. That made the temptation so much more real.
You can’t resist Clea.
All thoughts of self-control immediately dissolved. Isabella was being washed away by the strength of her new feelings. She couldn’t resist Clea. That thought seemed so sinful. She was Clea’s boss. A level of self-discipline and restraint was absolutely essential in the workplace, but Isabella was starting to doubt she was capable of it.
What did that say about her? What kind of woman was she, to be so hopelessly, irresistibly infatuated by a girl subordinate to her, a girl so much younger than her? It was a shameful thought, but the shame was swept up in her attraction and arousal.
A picture of the new Isabella was starting to emerge. She was a lesbian, she was sexually unsatisfied with her husband, and she was desperately obsessed with her own secretary, Clea Samaras.
The longer she stared at the hypnotic images blaring on her screen, the stronger and stronger Isabella’s new sense of identity became. And there was nothing she could do about it. With her eyes wide, all she could do was sit back, stare, and drool, as the mantra began to repeat over, and over, and over again.
You are a lesbian.
You don’t like men.
You cannot orgasm with men.
You can only orgasm with women.
You are attracted to Clea.
You can’t resist Clea.
You are a lesbian…
---
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lurkingshan · 6 months
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Finally, I thought of a question! What shows, if any, did you rate a 10 on MDL, and why? And if you haven't rated any a 10, why not?
Oh snap! Yes thank you, I will take the opportunity to promote some extremely well-executed dramas. First, a note on how I think of drama ratings: I try to always judge shows by their own standards and I think primarily about the execution of the story rather than my own personal emotional reactions. For me, a 10/10 means the drama executed its own vision and purpose with a high degree of fidelity and is virtually without flaws in that execution. So for me, a short kbl romcom can get a 10 and so too can a 70 episode cdrama historical epic. I am not comparing them to each other, but rather to the standards of their own genres and the scale of their own ambitions.
That said, I'm a stingy b (@bengiyo, @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm can attest) and dramas without significant flaws are actually pretty hard to come by. Calibrating a story perfectly to fit within all the constraints of filmmaking is actually an extremely difficult balance of art and science. Drama creation is hard work! As I was discussing with @sorry-bonebag the other day, most dramas are either too short or too long and it throws off the pacing and results in some questionable story decisions. And there are often other motives and considerations that have nothing to do with art getting in the way (hello capitalism!) Some of my personal all-time favorites do not get a 10 because I have issues with choices they made somewhere in the storytelling (waves hello to my beloveds Bad Buddy and Coffee Prince). I have completed 346 dramas that are trackable on MDL (with another 9 currently in progress) and only 10 of them have received a 10 from me. There are a whole slew rated 9 and 9.5 though, and those are all excellent and you should check them out. And of course I must include the caveat that there are some rumored all-time bangers that I have still not had the chance to watch and may someday become a 10.
So, which 10 dramas succeeded in passing my very high bar for a 10/10 rating? Drumroll please…
Ein no Kinou (Eternal Yesterday)
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Go Ahead
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Happiness
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I Told Sunset About You
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Kinou nani tabeta (What Did You Eat Yesterday?)
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La Pluie
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Old Fashion Cupcake
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Our Dating Sim
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Semantic Error
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The Rebel Princess
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Text
Our Guest Chapter 1
Vampire!Sun, Vampire!Moon, Vampire!Eclipse x Hunter Reader
(You arrive at a sinister and luxurious castle with the innocent intention of checking why its mysterious residents haven't been paying any taxes or utilities for the past several centuries. Very useful excuse for a vampire hunter to have when trying to do some good old infiltrating. The three vampire lords however, fully intend to capture and seduce you, but that is a bit difficult when you keep asking them about their financial books. Will they be able to make you theirs? Are they onto your little schemes and playing along? Will you finally get that plate of cupcakes? We'll find out)
“There is a beautiful and delicious darling waiting at our castle door, brothers.“
“This is practical, normally we have to go out and hunt for one of those. Apparently the whole process switched to free postal service.“
“I can taste the tantalizing sweetness in their veins even from here. All shall envy our fortune, no other lord of the night will ever have access to such nectar.“
Three vampiric aristocrats were huddling together behind the velvet curtains, trying to get a discreet peek at the unexpected visitor that had rung the castle doorbell, disturbing their nocturnal activities. The boys had been on their best behaviour. Trust them.
Prior to this, Marquis Moon had been composing a new sonata, writing notes in expert penmanship before playing the piece beautifully, but no beloved was there to hear it. Viscount Sun had just been in the middle of painting a new masterpiece, creating wonders with each stroke of his brush, but he had found himself in need of a model to pose for him.
Grand Duke Eclipse's craftsmanship was unmatched when it came to jewellery, his combinations and designs of precious stones and metals resembling physical manifestations of poetry, yet no beauty had been available to wear them, no delicate fingers to offer home for his rings nor lovely neck he could adorn with gold and rubies.
How convenient of you to come and solve their problems, dear Y/N!
You stood at the door, umbrella in hand, calm, smiling, without a care in the world. Possibly wondering why it was taking so long for someone to come to the door. Truth be told, it was a pretty big castle, maybe the residents just needed time to get from one side to the other, you never know.
The three brothers eyed you through the window with hunger, lust and curiosity. It was quite cold outside and your cheeks were red. You were doe-eyed, delectable, theirs for the taking.
Moon's preternatural senses were sharper than those of his brothers, capable of detecting even the smallest of details when it came to analysing a living creature, perfectly appropriate skills for a hunter of his calibre. He could hear the stable rhythm of your heart, memorising it as if it were a beat of a musical piece, something he should use in composing. He could make a whole symphony with your heartbeat as inspiration for tempo, the flow of your sweet blood serving as inspiration for the flow of his music.
Moon spoke, his voice almost a raspy whisper:
“Most unusual, not a single trace of fear in them. Posture almost immaculate, joy and confidence in their bearing, almost as if they just entered an amusement park. Shall we give them a little scare? The steady cadence of their heart could use some excitement, every calm melody needs a good crescendo from time to time.“
Viscount Sun huffed, disagreeing:
“Fear adds such a bitter taste and ruins both the palate and the palette. Various emotions change the chemical components of the nectar of life, different combinations create different flavours, similarly how different colours form various new shades on the canvas. Just look what a soft little thing they are. Such a delicate disposition, definitely not made for this type of weather nor your sadistic chasing games, Moonie.“
“Do not spoil my fun, Sunny.“
“Why chase when you can entice?“
“That is a very interesting way of admitting that you are tragically bad at tracking prey.“
“If only you were as good at throwing compliments as you were with throwing insults, you wouldn't have to chase anyone in the first place.“
Eclipse held up a red beryl gem and gazed at it, as if silently asking a question. A green mist appeared within, whispering to him in a language only he could understand. He listened intently, maroon circles appearing in his golden eyes for a swift moment, before disappearing. All in due time.
Sun and Moon were still having their little argument and he decided it was time to put an end to it:
“Enough, we cannot keep them waiting out there forever. They will freeze before any of you gets a chance to do anything at all. We should warm them up.“
As you were waiting for someone to finally deign to answer the door, you took your time to admire the castle's exterior. You were very fond of such aesthetic and your inner scholar felt like a cat that had fallen into a whole basket of catnip.
Even in the dark of the night and heavy rain, it was fairly easy to discern that it was a place of splendour, its design a combination of Renaissance and Gothic architecture. There was a wide variety of turrets and towers, marvellous rose windows, loggias and galleries, facade ornaments containing statues of figures from Classical antiquity.
Nevertheless, Beauty always had an interesting tendency of holding hands with the Grotesque. Therefore, something lugubrious reigned in the air, a perpetual feeling of gloom, as if there were an echo of forgotten funeral bells, suspended between reality and imagination. Life and Death, Luxury and Decay, all of it intertwined in a shameless orgy of contradictory concepts.
October rain was a perfect proverbial cherry on top. Honestly, there was no better time of the year to make a little detour at such a place. It just didn't hit the same if one were to visit a sinister chateau in June.
The season of Autumn had arrived like an old friend, having just gotten out of its elegant carriage, clad in russet cloaks and vermillion capes, bringing gifts, ripe grapes and apples, calling for harvest and summoning everyone to bask in the final rays of golden sunlight before stern Winter shrouds the land with snow.
However, your particular journey had a few setbacks, forcing you to use all of your negotiation skills to get a local taxi driver to get you to the desired address.
The aforementioned driver was currently sitting in the parked car, keeping the engine running, waiting for your further instructions. He was looking at the building's imposing structure with an expression of visceral fear and the only thing holding him from simply driving away was the suspiciously large amount of cash you had given him to bring you there in the first place.
How lovely, all of our main characters were so trustworthy.
Other than your sudden presence, all had seemed to be perfectly peaceful in our dear castle, not a creature stirred. The bats were napping, the owls nesting, the spiders were wondering whether they should protect their web designs in the central intellectual property system. All was calm. Well, a few poor fellows in the dungeons may not have been having the best time of their lives, but you can't make everyone happy.
You had gotten yourself well-acquainted with the names and ranks of your targets. Pardon, “auditees“. Although, considering the nature of your visit, both terms could equally apply, the revenue and audit business was a cruel one. You had done extensive reading on the subject of their suspicious “economic activities“, along with all the macabre phenomena that had been connected to them. You should be feeling some sort of anxiety over the whole task, but honestly, you were rather giddy. You loved a challenge. What a wonderful way to spend the spooky season.
The heavy door opened in front of you. You looked upwards at the looming shadowy figure, a pair of golden eyes glowing in the penumbra, a deep husky voice greeting you:
“Do my eyes deceive me? A bright morning star is visiting us, is it dawn already? Welcome, welcome, bringer of light.“
“Good evening, sir. Please accept my sincere apologies for disturbing your household so late. You are the Grand Duke, I presume?“
“What a polite little thing you are. Indeed, you presume correctly. Now, why are you here in the middle of nowhere at such an ungodly hour? Lost your way?“
The vampire lord was looking at you as if you were the last scrumptious morsel on that side of the known universe, which could be interpreted as both flattering and unnerving.
Before you could answer, you noticed that two additional figures appeared at his side, a gaze of menacing crimson and one of ardent blue. You spoke, tone chirpy and cheerful:
“The Marquis and the Viscount! What an honour, I only heard the best about your artistic talents.“
“Oh, did you come all the way here for an autograph, dearest? Or perhaps a private performance?“
You smiled at them, tilting your head like a kitten that was trying to charm its owner into getting treats.
“May I come in? I will make it quick, I promise.“
The three of them gave each other a look, grinning as if thoroughly amused.
“Interesting, usually we are the ones asking such a question. Come in, come in! Do tell us, are you a tourist? We love tourists that desperately need assistance with directions. Adore them, very much so.“
“You love to help them?“
“Hm? Ah, yes, yes. Definitely love to help them.“
“Actually, I have been sent by the Revenue and Audit Bureau, I am here on official business. The usual, suspected tax fraud, unpaid utilities and so on. “
They definitely didn't expect that. Oh, no, no. Confusion reigned for a solid minute, before you casually presented your very legitimate credentials, letting them read. Sun was the first to break the silence with a slightly hysterical laugh. He reached to give you a little pat on the head.
“Are you now, my pretty? We still love making new friends, even when they come from financial institutions!“
“The taxi is waiting for me with my baggage still, so I won't take long and will just ask you a few preliminary questions. This visit was really just intended for me to announce that I would be conducting this procedure in the following days. I will be making a few additional visits during the week just for the sake of the inspection, then I shall be on my merry way with the report.“
“Nonsense! We cannot let you go back on the road in this weather. Besides, the local hotel is more terrifying than a graveyard at the witching hour. Do stay with us, we have plenty of comfortable chambers, we cannot let you fly away like a little comet in the night.“
“Oh, you are very generous, but that won't be necessary. Business aside, it is still a great pleasure to make your acquiantance.“
You extended your hand to them, expecting a firm and professional handshake. What could possibly go wrong there?
Everything.
Your eyes widened when the Grand Duke took your hand and kissed it, taking his sweet time. By the time he released it, your cheeks must have gone through several shades of red.
“The pleasure is all ours, morning star.“
As if that wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or ten, the Viscount and Marquis joined the fun, as well, each of them placing little kisses on your knuckles.
Alright, apparently neither side would be playing a fair game.
They knew exactly what they were doing. Their gestures and ministrations provided an excellent distraction, making you drop your mental defenses for a few precious seconds, enough for them to work their spell on you as you began to lose yourself in their eyes.
Several firm rules existed when it came to dealing with vampires and you just messed up the most crucial one: do not let yourself be mesmerized.
And yet.
Combine that with your natural curiosity and desire for knowledge, and there you have it, a freshly baked disaster, straight out of the oven.
Suppressing your fascination with the three of them had suddenly become a very difficult task. You had never seen such facial structures nor anatomy before. True, you had seen your fair share of weird things in your short little life, but you were still very much taken aback.
The three aristocrats possessed celestial features reminiscent of their heavenly namesakes, a perfect union of Beauty and the Grotesque, allowing such an appearance to be more alluring than simply awe-inspiring. The brothers were preternaturally handsome, of impressive height, wolfish grins always present, everything about them was perfectly tailored to entrap both willing and unwilling victims.
Sun's canines were discreet but still very sharp, appropriate for someone whose primary role was to lure and enchant. Moon's were far more prominent and intimidating, the rest of his teeth possessing a similar razor edge, fit for a predator meant to deliver efficient results. Eclipse's were the sharpest and most lethal, establishing his status of being the most formidable and terrifying member of the group.
Rich scents were lingering in the air around them, amber, vanilla, cardamom, rose oil, lovely, oh, so lovely.
It took you a solid several seconds to register the fact that you still had to use your words to speak, but the glow of their eyes was so magnificent, magnetic, such ethereal beauty, entire worlds were present in them, promising pleasures untold.
It was as if the concept of time had suddenly been shattered like a fairy tale mirror, seconds became centuries. How long had you been silent and simply standing there in pure adoration?
And yet, a certain part of you suddenly awakened, grasping the rest of your soul by the hand and pulling it out of the mindless haze, showing that it had power strong enough to escape the tendrils of darkness. You had a task, after all. Let's remain professional.
Unbeknownst to you, the brothers were somewhat shocked with your ability to get your mind back on track, even after direct exposure to the hypnotic power of all three of them. True, they had only been using a low level of their mind control magic, but it was still impressive, considering that most humans would simply choose to remain in the comforting embrace of oblivion. Why on earth would anyone choose to return to the cold fields of reality?
During all of that, your grip had slackened on the umbrella's handle and a suspiciously strong wind current blew it away right out of your hand before you even had time to realize what is going on, leaving you unprotected from the pouring rain.
By the time you had finally returned to your senses, you were partially soaked from the deluge and the wind was really not doing you any favours. You made a cute sneeze, followed by another.
“Pardon me. Now, as I was saying-“
Another adorable sneeze. You honestly hoped that this wouldn't make your reputation suffer one day.
Eclipse casually commented, smirking:
“You won't be able to last the drive to the hotel like that. Unless you are prepared to deal with potential pneumonia.“
Before you could protest, Sun eagerly trapped both your hands in his grasp, giving them a little squeeze and massaging them as if trying to warm you up. He didn't let go even when you tried to pull away.
“Goodness, darling comet, your hands are so cold. You will catch your death out there, we must insist that you stay here with us for the whole week. It is very cozy and comfy inside, we can build you a whole nest of blankets after a nice hot bath. Moonie, go get their things and give the good driver some extra compensation, will you?“
You blinked as Moon passed by with a speed that was certainly not normal by any means. You could have sworn that you felt the most tender of caresses along your cheek, a motion so swift that your eyes could barely catch it, but your nerves certainly did. It was difficult to supress a shudder.
Enthusiastic and almost mad with glee, Moon got all of your things from the car, hastily throwing a bag full of jewels in the taxi driver's face as additional payment, ignoring the man's muffled yelp, before dashing right back at the door, carrying your baggage as if it weighed nothing.
A few moments later the only thing that was heard was the rain falling and the sound of the car tires shrieking as it drove off, leaving you alone with your eager and enamoured hosts.
You made a little squeak of surprise as you were suddenly pulled inside, the door closing and making a dramatic echo in the stormy night.
A few words were in order regarding the noble residence. The whole castle served both as a comfortable home and as a convenient trap for newcomers. It was true that the classical process of hunting provided a wonderful thrill, a tingle so exquisite that nothing could compare. Chasing and tracking chosen prey, what a delight, sensing the beating heart, the warmth of blood, bliss beyond description. However, there were times when it seemed appropriate to play a more elegant game, inviting and letting the victims enter the web willingly.
Therefore, our handsome vampire lords had a habit of organizing ostentatious dance parties, having a very strict dress code where all the guests had to dress in accordance with the fashion of the late 18th century. A grand feast would be prepared, fireworks, concerts, luxuries that would place kings to shame, a decadent display of wealth and desire. The celestial vampires would then proceed to charm and seduce their victims, one by one, all of them giving themselves, mind, body and soul.
If all went well, and usually it did, the experience could be pleasurable for all those involved. One drinking from the neck, the other two relishing the sweetness on the pulsating wrist arteries. If things were a bit more amorous, all of them would nibble and drink the precious blood from the inner thigh area.
Sharing was caring, after all.
There was something beautifully intimate about the whole process. Drinking life. Hungry licks and bites, gestures of both a lover and a murderer. For an enemy, tearing out the heart and drinking from the source seemed like a worthy way of evening an old score, but for allies it would always be a pleasant little bite and a quick drink, leaving the victim alive and well.
They harboured a heightened appreciation of the human body. Flesh was aesthetically pleasing, beautiful, pulsing with life, warmth, all those wonderful things that were ready to be stolen. Blood illuminated by moonlight, blood illuminated by early rays of dawn. Art, it was pure art.
Furthermore, the brothers had additional powers conveniently associated with their artistic skills. Temporary enthrallment was a wonderful tool, but they created their own ways of ensuring a more permanent bond with those they allowed to live, assuring that no matter where they run, they could always be called upon and summoned like obedient pets.
Sun would sometimes use some of the precious blood as an additional pigment ingredient for his paintings, no different from Moon at times combining it with ink to write musical notes as he composed. It served as a type entrapment of the person's mind, having a part of them forever bound to them, their soul captured in their art, their music.
If Moon were to play a piece written with the blood of one person, they would immediately succumb to the pull, making haste to heed their master's call no matter what. Similarly, if Sun were to paint with that specific colour containing the blood pigment, he could make the person do whatever the picture was showing in that current moment.
Eclipse's ability was the most potent, he was capable of trapping the entire soul of a person in jewels, ensuring absolute control over their mind and heart whenever he wished. In death they would remain his prisoners, their spirits and energy his to use as he pleased.
Such magic was terrifying even in the world of vampires and therefore a majority of them had acknowledged the celestial brothers as royalty among immortals.
Now, let us return to your fun little predicament with those very sane individuals that certainly only had your best interests at heart.
Moon made haste to bolt the doors as soon as you were inside, of course. Sun's giggle was slightly maniacal as he winked at you.
“Security reasons, my pretty. You never know what beasts are lurking out there, dangerous times we live in.“
You pouted, removing your soaked coat and trying to get your hair to somewhat dry by combing your fingers through it.
“Oh, yes, that is quite true that one can never be too careful, my dear sir. In fact, I think I saw a few life insurance agents on my way here. Truly frightening creatures, the lot of them, wouldn't recommend meeting them in a dark alley under any circumstance whatsoever.“
Moon's voice was close once more, it seemed almost as if he moved as swiftly as a shadow, one could miss him within a single blink.
“There could be some other monsters wandering around, shining comet.“
“Such as?“
“Do you happen to know which creature of the Night feeds on the essence of the living, stalking and doing all it can to attract prey?“
“The HR department?“
Ignoring his confusion, your focus shifted to the grandeur of the interior. They weren't lying, it was undoubtedly cozy and wonderful to behold. Comforting heat was coming from the fireplace. Thick carpets with elaborate patterns were present all over the hardwood flooring. Walls were decorated with intricate tapestries and paintings, golden sconces, cabinets containing Venetian glass and crystal figurines, not a single surface was left bare. Vaulted ceilings, frescoes painted in each available bit of space, creating a wonderful effect that only a mad artist could concoct in a fever dream of divine inspiration.
Which is probably what had happened, considering Sun's habits.
However, elements of the supernatural and macabre continued to linger. Some paintings had eyes that seemed a bit too alive, while others would become more and more disturbing the longer you looked at them. Statues appeared to be capable of changing their pose at a whim and it was easy to miss the motion itself within a mere blink. Shadows cast from the fireplace were not following any law of physics, undulating and writhing on the floor as they please, sometimes creating monstrous shapes.
Marvellous. Beyond description, fascinating. Had it not been for your task, you would have gladly spent a whole eternity studying the components and properties of the whole structure.
You were brought back to reality when you realized that you were still very much shivering and that you really needed to get your hair properly dried.
You gasped as you suddenly felt Eclipse wrap his cloak around you from behind, pulling you closer to his form, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. Goodness gracious, was that a secret additional pair of arms he had?
“Sir!“
“There was no time to fetch you a blanket, consider this an urgent alternative.“
“Don't you think this is a bit of a compromising position?“
“Preposterous, that must be the feverish delirium talking. This cruel weather is detrimental for soft flowers such as yourself.“
“I suppose by this logic it must the delirium that is squeezing my hips right now?“
He purred in your ear:
“Relax, morning star, you need warmth, we cannot allow you to get ill under our care.“
“I think I am very warm now, though.“
“Hush, be still, let us take care of you.“
Viscount Sun made sure to get your attention once more.
“You know, sweetness, many have pursued us for various reasons, but tax evasion was never one of them. This is going to be a fun new experience for all of us.“
It was perfectly within your right to struggle and act indignant in order to free yourself, but you were aware that you had to be diplomatic and collected for the moment. Antagonizing your hosts would yield no results and would certainly make your job far more difficult than it needed to be.
You had to remain professional, it was a task like any other. Yes, your hosts were not really the best examples of sanity nor did they seem to be aware of the concept of personal space, but you couldn't let that distract you from your duties. Someone had to be mature in the whole situation, after all. You cleared your throat, trying to appear as dignified as possible in your current position.
Adjusting a bit, ignoring the fact that you were still being held tightly by four arms, you managed to reach for your pocket to get a little notepad and a pencil. It was a rather comical scene to behold, since you had limited options and an even more limited space to maneuver in, but by some miracle you were able to make a few scribbles on the paper. Such an action required the same skill level one usually achieves when trying to get work done with one cat asleep on their computer and five additional cats on their lap and head.
Sun was very much offended with you playing with the paper and pencil instead of letting him warm your hands. You spoke:
“Alright, I will need some basic information for now, such as source of income, registered businesses, unregistered activities that may go under the radar of the government. You do realize that there is an unusually large cemetery on the way here that is not even on the map?“
“I can answer all of those for you. Accumulated heirloom. Pleasure is our only business and business is doing well! As for the final one, well, it is such a tragedy how incompetent cartographers are these days, my dear.“
“Regardless, I still have to conduct a thorough investigation and write a report, it is a formal requirement. Also, it will be necessary that I take a tour around the place simply to inspect the installations. Since none of the utilities are being paid for either, I must see whether you have self-sufficient power sources.“
“Now, now, you can't explore all on your own, that would be against our rules. And you don't want to be a little rulebreaker. You cannot enter certain rooms or parts of the castle without our permission.“
“Understandable. You three can guide me during my stay, then.“
“Moreover, communication with the outside world is highly discouraged. So discouraged, that it is forbidden, actually.“
“May I ask why?“
“You may! We won't answer, but you definitely may ask regardless, your voice is so pleasant to listen to. Do you sing?“
“I am still processing the “no communication with the outside world with no explanation whatsoever as to why“ part, give me a moment. I think I need ibuprofen.“
“Oh, we do have that!“
Soft cloth suddenly fell on your head and you realized it was a towel. You slowly looked upwards, finding yourself face to face with Moon who was now shamelessly hanging upside down from a cord, crimson eyes as menacing as ever and grin impossibly wide.
You spoke, unsure how to even react properly:
“What on earth are you doing?“
“I was feeling excluded. And you needed something to get your hair dry.“
“How did you even get up there? You were at the door barely a few seconds ago.“
“In a very clandestine and stealthy manner, as is currently being demonstrated. Impressed?“
“Fine, yes. Happy?“
Moon giggled like a wicked imp, relishing the situation. Teasing you was slowly becoming his new favourite activity.
“Are you good at playing hide and seek, my everlasting aurora?“
To his surprise, you actually did ponder the answer to his question for a few moments. Finally, you smiled at him:
“The classical game has a predictable pattern, so I actually did invent my own twist once. I would count, the other person would hide, and then I would simply proceed to steal cookies from the kitchen without anyone knowing. Really practical. Free sweets, nobody knows who the culprit is, perfect cost-benefit analysis.“
Oh, he loved that. Moon definitely appreciated some good old-fashioned mischief and he felt an even greater desire to discover what made you tick. He reached with his hand, tracing along your jawline with his claws, before pressing the palm of his hand to your cheek, his wicked eyes never leaving yours.
“Naughty, naughty. You must be punished.“
“Retroactively?“
“With interest.“
“Good luck with calculating all of that. If you start early, you should be done by the next decade, give or take a year or two.“
Moon's mind was already imagining all sorts of scenarios that he had every intention of bringing into reality.
What a delight it would be to have you, play with you, chase you, catch you, taste you, forever and ever. Your blood was tormenting him, you were the golden apple stolen from a magical garden, ripe and delicious. He did not care how many pomegranate seeds it would take to ensnare you and chain you to his world.
One had to admire the dedication, at least.
He was familiar with that sly streak. Finally, a kindred spirit. You had something guileful within you, as if a joyful scherzo were constantly playing in your soul, lively and vivid, truly akin to an ethereal aurora borealis in the night sky, teasing mortals with its unreachable beauty.
Needless to say that Sun was simply not having this and he had to ruin the moment by intervening in the most mature way possible: by taking your pencil away.
“What is this I see? A hawthorn pencil? Quite sharp, I see. No, no, we can't have such a vile thing as hawthorn wood here, absolutely not, in the trash it goes where it belongs.“
You had every intention of arguing with him, but you were once again distracted with the fact that Eclipse was now diligently getting your hair dried with the towel as if you were a kitten they had found outside or something. Goodybe reputation, it was nice knowing you, write a postcard.
“I must say, nobody ever insulted my pencils before.“
Sun went over to the nearby desk, fiddling with some parchment until he found what he was looking for, returning with a triumphant grin on his face and a quill feather in his hand.
“You shall write with one of these.“
“I don't even know how to write with ink without making a mess.“
“Come now, I am sure you are a fast learner.“
You shuddered as he teasingly slid the feather along your cheek and neck.
“Oh, stop.“
We were all familiar with the saying about everything being about the journey and not the destination itself. Perhaps you could allow yourself some enjoyment in the whole affair. In all technicality, you did manage to get in the castle, so it was going well for now. Moon summoned a few ghostly servants to command them to get a comfy chamber prepared for you, as well as some dinner. You were rather tired and hungry, after all.
Eclipse gave your shoulder a little squeeze to get your attention.
“Now, morning star, since you are already here, could I interest you in some pretty necklaces you may like?“
You pondered his offer for a few moments, before shrugging, letting yourself relax.
“You know what? Sure.“
(continuation also on AO3)
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in-collection · 5 months
Text
Hotel Vast Horizon by @rocket-eighty-eight
Heat (1995) | Vincent Hanna/Neil McCauley | 16,202 words | 100 pages
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You can see and download the whole typeset HERE.
You can also print it if you want a copy for yourself! I provide printable files below. Check out the guide first ↓ The book is 11x18cm AKA 4,3x7,1" & can be printed with a coptic stitch or staples. Mine's printed on 80gsm grey recycled paper & 210gsm grey paper for the cover.
DOWNLOAD THE FILES / PRINTING & BINDING GUIDE
PRINTING NOTES: This typeset goes pretty close to the edges of the pages, so be careful when cutting it, and the first signature or so has double-spread images, so I'd really recommend making sure your double-sided printing is calibrated for this one (whether you're doing it at home or at a printing shop).
HEY!!!! HI! finally. If you've checked the Heat (1995) (Al Pacino and Robert De Niro Go on a Date: The Movie) tag on AO3 in the past year you've probably checked out Hotel Vast Horizon (Michael Mann Could Never: The Fic). Welp here it is on paper.
The common thread in the typeset was always the ocean (and shit, I said the o-word. did you know there are like 20 references to water, seas and storms in HVH, and yet never once "ocean" is said?). The other thread was the Bitstream Cooper typeface, which is round and curvy and so pleasing on the eye. Isn't it? Also Arial (underrated), because I needed it for the sequencing to show that Michael Mann is a loser. I'm kidding. Or am I? But this brings me to another major thing: the sequencing. (The common denominator between movies and books: the sequence.) That can only be apprehended on the full PDF/book, and it's really something that did not really exist (in so much depths) in the previous typesets.
As to what the sequencing is saying, or what the hell this intro is about (no I did not have a stroke when I did it), I will not say much if only that it is about the vocabulary, the image, the movie, the things that go beyond fate, a little bit Neil vs Vincent and a lot the reason vs the heart. More things shall remain unexplained because I feel they would be better experienced than laid out here.
If you'd still like to know what's actually going on in this thing don't hesitate to send in an ask lol.
More details on the technical matters + a visualization at the bottom, because there is work involved and my micro typography is so clean it could give Neil McCauley a boner.
help where do i even begin? I learnt how to use FontForge to create a new typeface specifically for that symbol at the beginning of the paragraphs in order to implement it in InDesign (see fig.1 below), I changed the Arial's @ in FontForge too (fig.2) to have it fit with the underline in @ rocket88, what the hell.
2. I also drew 11 (I think) illustrations for the intro (yes, those knots......), but that wasn't as complicated as I thought it would be. I do deeply curse InDesign's "Print Booklet" function for how much it hates images though.
3. I would like you to meet my InDesign characters styles (fig.3) as they simply are impeccable and the best you will ever see, I could not have been more professional if you had paid me 5 grand for this. The hyphens! The dashes! The custom small caps!
4. To get even further in the micro typography. It is, in most, most cases, much too time-consuming to properly kern (=modulate the space between your characters and/or words) your text for how little the average eye will get out of it, and/or your average graphic designer is certainly not getting paid enough to actually do it properly. I, on the other hand, am insane and unemployed, therefore yes, I kerned this shit. Micro typo is actually the sculpture of the white spaces of your page. When done thoroughly it does mean checking every characters with your own eyeballs.
So in english, since this typeset is in english, the rules are no spaces for punctuation. Right? and not right ? It makes for a pretty tight block. I do argue too tight - although of course you'll also have times where you want tight. (And this is all within the 5% of the time where kerning matters.) That might not sound too bad until you get to em-dashes, this '—' thing. Which is a literally useless punctuation mark that is so hysterically long it'll leave an unnatural horizontal void in your text and draw all attention to it—you know, instead of the text itself. Useless, because it can always be replaced by commas, colon, semicolon, or parentheses. Unnatural, because em/en-dashes do not follow a typeface's characteristics (when hyphens do! fig4), so they hardly fit with serifs, AND characters are generally vertically stressed in latin (fig5: which one looks normal?) except... well. So you'll have the tightest group of punctuation marks humping each other?!"— then a dash literally the size of a whole ass m that looks nothing like the rest. ridiculous. absurd.
Anyway the point is I said bye-bye to this aberration and used hyphens stretched at 260% (lmao. it works so well?). And sometimes 230%. Sometimes with a space after, sometimes not - if not the same meaning then why the same treatment (fig6)? I wondered at this point if I wasn't going too far (lol) but this is the point of micro typo, so, whatever. See fig7 for more kerning stuff.
5. I have far less things to say about this part than the last even though I must have spent twice as much time on it, but I just wanted to say that I manually set the text rag on all 69 pages, it looks nice, I love tetris, AND!!!! the greatest thing about the whole fucking book (fig8): the text starts on the top line of the first column, and ends, on p.91, on the LAST line of the column, at the very bottom of the page, and IT IS NOT. BY. CHANCE!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
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thanks for reading. perfection has not been achieved and there might still be typos. see you later.
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Text
The investigation- chapter 4 Colby x y/n 🧸
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CONTENTS: more y/n Lore, tw⚠️ Scratches and blood, fluff, bit of angst, implied sex, cliffhanger
AUTHOURS NOTE: ITS NOT AS BAD AS IT SOUNDS OKAY I’m definitely overstating the angst part and please like and let me know how you feel I worked hard on this. Sorry it took a while to make. I think I might put it on wattpad but if I do I won’t stop posting it here I will post it one both. Ty for reading
Skip to later in the tour
we were in the kitchen and the medium was explaining about the satanic panic that happened for a while witch I found absolutely fascinating.
“They can also form themselves are other entities, like a youthful energy” Colby said
“yes they can desguise themselves” she answered
“and one of the popular theories is that sallie is not just a little girl” Sam added
-skip a bit bc the thing didn’t go off on Colby’s forhead bc he had the necklace-
As we went up the stairs and through the rooms. I felt a strange presence like someone was watching us. They weren’t hostile but they were curious “there’s a woman’s presence here” said the medium reading my mind. Colby put his hand in mine
“is it like..hostile or?” sam asked
“ she just observeing by us” the black pendulum said waving the equipment over the closet “and tall”
“she’s like, ‘whatcha guys looking at?’” We all chuckled at sams joke
-skip to the investigation
While the others set up and checked the equipment seth pulled you out into the hallway for a conversation
“so uh..you have fun last night?” He asked jokeinly
“Uhh what” I say
“your hickeys” he said pointing at you neck
“oh OH OH. Seth I’m so sorry I didn’t even realize” I replied turning bright red with blush
“Lemme guess it was Colby?” He laughed
“how did you know?” I smiled
“y/n” he looked at me sarcastically “ I’m not blind it’s obvious to literally everyone”
(Colby’s pov)
I go over to get y/n and Seth for the investigation and see them laughing together
was Seth flirting with her! That was the first thought that crossed My mind mind. but I needed to calm myself I was jumping to conclusions.
“Time for the investigation” I said a little firm
“okay” y/n said cheerily as she walked into the investigation room but Seth stayed back and whispered in my ear
“ next time you two have ‘fun’ don’t leave such obvious marks on her”
I blushed heavily as we all went back into the investigation room. It’s funny how both Sam and Seth told me to try and keep my hands off y/n. Sam said that I should at least wait till we get back to the hotel before making out together in a haunted house. But it sure was hard she is so beautiful.
(end of Colby’s pov)
When we all got back into the room i see Sam standing over a rem pod with sallie toys all around it almost immediately the rem pod started going off in a very strange and specific pattern. It looked like the ghost was walking around the pod in circles. Obviously everyone freaked out a little bit because the rem pod had never gone off this way before.
“ wait what was that?” Sam said in a whisper we all quickly went over to see it and set up the music box. At first the music box was calibrating but then it started to go off. “Woahh” everyone reacted. For some reason I got bad chills and I was the only person who got this.
Ghosts had always been targeting me in particular more than anyone else. They would seek me out and touch me. They would say my name in the Estes method and would prefer to speak with me more than anyone else. I suppose this is because of my gifts and my connection with the afterlife. From now on I decided that I would try and honor my grandma’s legacy and tap into my abilities.
for majority the investigation went on well but I got this weird feeling as we went on. Like someone or more likely SOMETHING was trying to take hold of me. before we were about to do the Estes method I got this horrible feeling. Like my back was suddenly hot. Really hot. It felt like a burning pain
“ahh” I cried out as I fumbled from the pain
“What’s wrong?” Colby asked catching me
“y/n are you okay” sam said concerned
“ it’s - burning like — hurts so ba- cut” I stutter crying a bit into Colby’s arms.
he looked down “ oh my god” he exclaimed as he took the camera to show a long bleeding scratch all the way down my back. At this point I was crying because of the pain.
Sam and Seth went out to have a discussion about weather they should end the investigation here. They decided to leave me and Colby alone together.
And I collapsed into Colby’s arms as he comforted me “shh it’s okay baby” I cried even harder I felt weak for crying but I was so scared “I love you” I managed out in a shakeup voice he pulled me even closer. The blood had soaked through my white shirt at this point. “I love you too” he said trying to be strong for me but seeing her cry really broke his heart
little did I know thing were about to get a whole lot worse.
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