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somegirlontheinternet135 · 2 months

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I didn't expect a post about a dating sim x click & point adventure game with The Beasts to be this popular but. . .

*random gestures*

So here you go, some thoughts & features that could be added to this weird fangame I conjured up!

(tw: long)

~General~

The world that the player teleported into heavily mirrors the land of beast yeast, complete with each of the landmarks which the beasts resign in. One exception however is at the center of this mysterious land is a forest of silver trees, which surround a strange alter of six stone standing pads, five little stones around a much larger stone in the middle (wonder what that's about?)

Somewhere amidst the silver woods is a mysterious grove, a grove filled with lilies. If adventurous enough, the player can explore the grove, but be warned, for not only do the scent of lilies cause drowsiness and the possibility of passing out, but lilies aren't the only thing that the land houses. The grove is peerless maze, so the player must enter with caution

The story length will be similar to how Obey Me is set up (divided into different chapters) with the first three to four chapters introducing the Beasts

There's no "canonical" choice of who'll you'll end up with, that's entirely up to the player. Another choice the player will have is whether the relationships can be platonic or romantic

Although many MCs are mostly left blank slates, I want the player in the sort of grey area between having an actual personality but leaving details vague enough to leave people guessing. Think the MC from "Obey Me" crossed with Yuu from "Twisted Wonderland" And you know many MCs are often nice and kind-hearted, well sorta throw that out the window bc we're doing something special(snarky, sarcastic, brutality honest, and filled with trust issues)

There's only snippets of what the player physically looks like(trust me, this'll be important later)

It's also important that the player has zero memory of entering the world they were basically isekaed into, something which the beasts learn one way or another. . .

The player will receive several petnames from the beasts, ranging from simple ones like "dear" or "sweetheart," to petnames relating to mice and other rodents(ie: "Little Mouse," "Pika," even "Pipsqueak")

In the game, the day-night cycle plays a big role in the gameplay. You'll be allowed to roam and explore as much as you want, but at night, you're given the choice of whether you should go to bed or keep exploring. If the player chooses to continue exploring, they'll be met with an energy meter, which increases when you sleep and decreases when you don't. With a full bar, the player can explore a total of five times, and once that meter runs out, they get too exhausted and fall asleep

Now would be a good time to mention the player's different bedrooms. They rotate based on the location, but they're meant to be a sort of safe space for the player, it's also the area where they pick up an important item: A journal

The journal functions very similarly to a scribble board and an actual notebook but serves one purpose, to allow the player to take notes on certain puzzles. Different puzzles are scattered across the landmarks, some are extremely difficult and require one to jot notes

I also like to think the player would receive a variety of tools during their journey and will each be essential. Which would lead the player to carry a bag to hold said items

For the purpose of the story, the player is able to respawn if they die. Remember the alter in the silver tree forest, they wake up there like nothing happened, although they do still retain the memories of said death

The player will engage in several minigames, the most common of them being a cooking style game where you prepare meals and ones where your using certain tools. Whilst the click & point portion consists of the player exploring the different areas & interacting with their surroundings

As a bonus, the player is gifted different outfits from the beasts, each one corresponding to the beast, their interests, and their theme

~Shadow Milk~

In the many eyes of Shadow Milk, the player is the only cookie he's seen in a while, so it's obvious he'd want them to be his audience, if you ever so chose to be. They get the option of asking more & trying to convince him on letting them have a turn in performing, which he'll have different reactions to

*You're reading the scripts of one of Shadow Milk's plays, in awe at the material. You compliment his work, making him all the more flattered*

"Oh I love acting! Your script is amazing, could I try acting some things out?"

*Hearing the question, Shadow Milk snatches the script from your hands. He almost snaps at you*

"What? No, of course not!"

"I'm sorry my dear, I adore your praise but. . . we've already established who the audience is! It's the key tool of any actor's career, and without that, we'd just be two actors with no one to entertain. . ."

"Besides, I think you'd have trouble trying to impress such a seasoned performer like myself~"

Despite his condescending comments, he slowly begins to let you act out small skits as their relationship with him becomes stronger, and he begins to cave

Shadow Milk has several references to acting, the stage, and plays, it would be a sin to not give this man a rhythm game. Similar to already existing rhythm games like "Rhythm Heaven" or the rhythm game portion in "Obey Me"

Every task, no matter how minimal or simple, becomes way more difficult with Shadow Milk. If you're just as much as a theater kid as he is, his need for literally everything to be a grand, exaggerated, obnoxious spectacle, especially around the player, is strong. Half the time, things don't go his way & he winds up making a mess, messes which the player is forced to clean up

Also, most everything he does requires a quick "costume change" thems the rules. He's cooking you breakfast? He's wearing a bright pink apron with frills and a heart-shaped pocket. You get hurt and scrape your knee? Here comes Dr. Shadow Milk in his doctor's uniform and stethoscope. The two of you are getting ready for bed? You'll be seeing him in striped pajamas, an extremely long nightrobe, fuzzy slippers and a sleep mask, including hair curlers

There will absolutely be no sneaking out on his domain, not on his watch! Shadow Milk, with his abilities, is a living security system, and reacts heavily to sound. So one snap of a twig or step on some creaking floorboards and it's over!

"*Ahem!*"

*A freakishly familiar voice is heard from behind you. Breaking into a sweat, you slowly turn around, the smallest part of you wished it wasn't who you thought it was. . . But as luck would have it, you didn't know any other crazy entertainers. . . Sure enough, it was exactly who'd you expected to see, Shadow Milk stood in front of you, arms crossed and everything*

"Just where do you think you're going?"

*You try playing it cool, although sweating a bit*

"Oh hey Shadow. . . I was just about to head out and-"

"Head out? At this time?!"

"I-I'm not gonna be gone for too long! I'll come right back after promise- *ah!*"

*Shadow Milk had already scooped you up, carrying you bridal style*

"That's quite enough! I can't have my only audience member getting drowsy during one of my shows, now can I?~"

*You were embarrassed beyond belief, even more once he started walking you to your room, and abruptly boops you on the nose*

"It's off to bed with you little mousey!~"

". . . ok(;w;). . ."

He takes much pride & joy in inconveniencing the player, purely for his own entertainment. What makes it worse is that he'll always find some sort of excuse, saying how it's "to punish them" and "to teach them how to do it right," just some of the lies they have to deal with

And that's not all, you think he started there? nope! He started lying to the player the second the two of them met. Seeing the player scared and alone in his domain, he didn't miss an opportunity to mess with the player's head. Fortunately, this does change as you begin to get closer with him, he starts being more open with the player

The outfit Shadow Milk gives the player is, although the tackiest thing on earthbread(if the player decides that it is), the most practical of the outfits they'll receive. It has a sort of German fairytale vibe to it, covered head to toe in ruffles, lace, bells, overly detailed designs, and of course, colored blue. It looks like, feels like, and is a costume, but despite its cheesy appearance, it's easy to run & move in

Out of all the beasts, Shadow Milk is the one who cares the most for the player's physical well-being. He's always making sure the player's eating enough, getting sleep, and most importantly, is happily entertained. It's been far too long since he was able to put on his plays, and he's gonna make sure they have the ability to sit through them

All and all, Shadow Milk is a well-meaning, all be it annoying, roommate

~Eternal Sugar~

She was always keen on learning most of the trickster's secrets, so finding out about the player, she became both upset yet understanding. Shadow Milk was the Cookie of Deceit after all

Regardless, Eternal Sugar found it quite unfair of him to keep them all to himself, and took it upon herself to steal the player away, via using one of her clouds

*While wandering by yourself within Shadow Milk's domain, you peer up at the unearthly, but normally blue sky, to see what seemed to be clouds suspiciously hovering over you*

Bewildered and curious, the player has the decision of either ignoring it or checking it out, but each will end in the clouds scooping up the player and taking them, all the way to Eternal Sugar Cookie

First meeting the player, she's admittingly unimpressed with what she sees, to think something so important to them would be reduced to such a simple creature. . ? But that mindset quickly changes as she discovers how adorable the player is, and just how naive they are. . .

She views the player as some sort of pet, spoiling them with all the goodies they can ever want, to a point where its almost overwhelming

*On a table, a large platter of sweets is set in front of you; you're almost tooken back by the sheer size of the dish, it was almost half the size of the table! Just sitting next to you was Eternal Sugar, smiling almost amusingly at your reaction*

"U-Uh. . . Is this all for me. . ?"

*She giggled*

"Of course it is dear! What sort of guest would you be if you didn't receive such delicacies?"

*Eternal Sugar picks up a sweet from the platter and holds it close to your mouth*

"Now, open wide~"

Unlike the other beasts, Eternal Sugar has the habit of babying the player, so like Shadow Milk, every simple task becomes way more difficult with her around. She'll make sure they won't be able to lift a finger!

Her associative minigame fits her sort of style, a memory game using cards, similar to the many games you can find on those "Kid-friendly Newgrounds" websites

Another thing worth noting is her clingy nature. Everywhere the player goes, Eternal Sugar has to follow, which does make things more difficult and affects progress. The prime definition of a space invader

It gets even worse during the night cycle, where she often insists on sleeping in the same bed as the player. Despite this, night is the only time the player will be able to get anything done. Just know that when they got back to bed and woke up the next morning, they'll have a sweet surprise waiting for them

*Morning light shines onto your face as it creeps into the rest of the room. You groan, awoken by your natural alarm clock, and begin to yawn & stretch, a part of you wished you slept in a bit longer. But as you try to get out of bed, you feel a weight on your right hand, better yet, you feel an entire section of the bed being weighed down by some unknown force. Turning around, you quickly discover why*

"E-Eternal Sugar Cookie! What are you-?!"

*There, covering a good half of the bed, Eternal Sugar Cookie was peacefully snoozing, clutching your hand. In your failed attempts at yelling at her & pulling your hand away were left to no avail, she had no intent on moving, nor letting go, making you all the more flustered*

"Ms. Eternal Sugar Cookie, please!- Let me go! I need-"

*She merely lifted one eye, only half awake and ready to sleep the rest of the day away*

"Awh~ but little mouse, it's so early!~ Can't you stay just a bit longer?~"

*She smiles at your flustered expression*

"But I have stuff to do! Please, you have to let me- *ah!-* h-hey!"

*Too busy trying to escape, you failed to notice her grip getting tighter, pulling you back down your now shared bed*

"Sleep a little more with me, won't you? There's no rush~"

"O-ok, fine then, but only for a couple more minutes, but that's it!"

*She giggled*

"Deal~"

Throughout their stay, the player only gets small snippets of Eternal Sugar's true personality. If the player chose to question her sickly sweet demeanor, she'd get defensive real fast, asking them why they would even question something like that. If angered, she becomes pushy, demanding, especially when the player doesn't do what she says

It becomes increasingly clear when Eternal Sugar gives you a new outfit, since the one you're wearing (aka the outfit Shadow Milk gave you) didn't fit her style, believing that you should wear something more flowy. She actually offers several different outfits for the player, and although nice, they're. . . let's just say not so family friendly; try as they might to reject her offers, she'll get upset and more persistent, nonetheless; this however does change as the story goes on, she becomes more understanding. Luckily, the two manage to make a compromise, Eternal Sugar offers the player a much simpler pink dress, with bows, lace, and ribbons. Despite being much to the player's liking(if that's what the player chooses), she begins to whine about it, saying how it could've been so much more; not to mention, both the ribbons and lace constantly get stuck on things if they aren't careful

The only time the player's able to really see Eternal Sugar's true colors is when Shadow Milk shows up, who's not all too happy about her basically kidnapping the player. Whilst they ventured alone, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off them for a second, last thing he knew they were snatched by some clouds and whisked away into the sky, which he immediately starts chasing after them. He knew exactly who was responsible. Unlike Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar does a much better job of keeping her composure, playing dumb and refraining from acting out of character around the player. But once Shadow Milk insults her fake personality, all hell breaks loose

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my dear friend. . .?~ Eternal Sugar Cookie. . !"

*Shadow Milk had snuck in through an open window. Before you could even do anything, Eternal Sugar had already pulled you to her side, forcing you to sit in the lavish and comfortable sofa she was lounging on. He made his way towards her, with his usual wide smile; from the corner of your eye, you could barely see an eye twitch and, was he gritting his teeth? It didn't look like it, but he was seething with rage*

"Oh, Shadow Milk Cookie!~ for what do I owe the pleasure?~"

"How lovely of you to ask!~ You see, you just so happen to have something that belongs to me!"

*Shadow Milk then stares back at you, startling you a bit with his crazed expression. Although Eternal Sugar seemed unfazed, her grip on you only became tighter as the trickster started speaking to you*

"Little mousey, there you are!~ Oh I was so worried, thank goodness you're safe!~"

"I am so, so, sorry to have kept you waiting~ believe me, it's a long story!~"

"*Ah!* And what happened to the little dress I gave you?! I mean you still look cute, but you'd look so much better before and- oh! almost got off track for a second!~ *haha!*"

"Alrighty, I think it's time for me and my little mousey to get go-"

"You're leaving with them? Now what would be the purpose in that?~"

*She quickly shifted from her lounging position to a sitting position, pulling you closer toward her, and flustering you more. You see the trickster's eye twitch more, noticing just a crack in his character*

"*hehe-* what did you say. . ?!"

"I've tooken quite the liking to 'your' little mouse!~ Besides, you keeping them all to your self. . ? Extremely unfair of you!~"

*She then draped her arms around you, your face was getting redder by the second*

"Surely they'll be much happier here, isn't that right little mouse?~"

"Well, *uhh-* actually. . ."

"Then it's settled!~ The little mouse will be staying with me!~"

*They proceeded to argue back and forth, Shadow Milk's played up character was falling apart at the seams, losing a drop of his patience with every word the "angel" said. Eternal Sugar found herself quite entertained with the trickster getting angrier and angrier. All the while, you didn't know what to do, clearly neither of them were going to let you leave, or you know, let you get a single word in. So you were placed in a very awkward situation, stuck between an angel cookie who wasn't keen on you leaving, and a jester who was trying to get you back through gritted teeth*

"Listen, I'm the one who saw them first, they were found in my domain, therefore, they're mine! So if you would be so kind as to return them to me. . !"

*She proceeded to hold you closer, practically cuddling you, was she trying to make him even angrier?!*

"Oh but we're having so much fun!~ They'd much prefer it here than that over-the-top spiral you call a tower. . !"

*Insulting his domain was the nail in the coffin. It looked like he'd finally snapped, any ounce of patience he had before was completely out the window. Using his magic, he wrapped up your hands in some mysterious string, pulling you forward and out of Eternal Sugar's reach, greatly shocking and scaring the heck out of you. Once you were back in his arms, Shadow Milk pushed you behind him, and looking back at Eternal Sugar, she'd gotten up from the sofa, it seemed like she was starting to crack as well*

"Oh!~ So that's how we're gonna play *huh?!* Then I'll lend you this: do you really think they'd want to stay with a tooth-rotting prick like yourself?!"

*She began to clutch her fists, her eyes widen in a mix of shock and anger*

". . ?! What did you just call me. . ?!"

"Oh don't you give me that! little miss 'sweet & innocent angel!' unlike myself, people can see your fake persona from a mile away!~"

"And with how long they had to stay with you. . . I'm surprised my poor little mousey hasn't gotten sick and vomited from the spoiling and smothering they had to withstand!"

*That was all it took for her, she broke faster than he did, the wings on her back got bigger, Eternal Sugar's eyes glowed with rage*

". . . how dare you. . !"

"HOW DARE YOU!!"

The player obviously gets the choice of trying to stop the fight or slipping away, the following events escalating faster or slower depending on which they choose. Things escalate to a point where Eternal Sugar just snatched them and attempted to fly away with the player, which led to Shadow Milk using his magical strings to pull them back, entering the two of them in an intense game of tug of war with the player. And the force of both sides was so strong. . . It ended up ripping the player in half

So, Eternal Sugar Cookie, kinda pushy at times and very clingy all the time, but a sweetheart nonetheless

~Mystic Flour~

Getting ripped in half by two powerful beings. . . not something you would easily forget. . . You'd expect this to be game over, right? well, wrong, cause upon miraculously waking up, not only do you find yourself on top a strange alter, but face to face with Mystic Flour Cookie

Seeing the clouds of Eternal Sugar Cookie's cloud soaring past her land, she immediately could tell that something was a mist, and strolling through the silver forest and finding the player laying on the strange alter, her suspicions were correct

At first, she couldn't believe it, a cookie, in their world?! But after a proper meeting with the player and asking how they ended up on the alter, she became a bit more pitiful, going on to invite them to her domain, such a clueless cookie shouldn't be left alone!

But talking about what was basically their death is pretty traumatizing, so the player is given the choice of whether to straight up lie, or give some part of the truth

"So, you have no memory of how you ended up on this alter. . ? Nothing at all?"

*Your voice was strained, you didn't want to tell her the full truth*

"N-no, not a lot. . ."

*Mystic Flour then proceeds to grasp both your cheeks, pulling you close to her face, much to your slight embarrassment*

"Oh, you poor thing! You must be so lost, so confused. . ."

*It was that moment when an idea sprung into her, an idea that may help the both of you. . .*

"How about you come with me?~ Surely you'll be much safer!~"

*Try as you might to decline her offer, she just becomes more insistent. She was giving decent points however, you were lost and confused, not to mention trapped in this witch-forsaken place, and the only two "cookies" you knew killed you, accidently or not, you couldn't decide. . . Eventually, after lots of convincing and growing tired, you finally cave, accepting her offer*

"Ok, fine, I'll go with you"

"Oh good! Well, come along then!~"

*Gently, Mystic Flour took your hand, pulling you off the alter, and guiding you through the silver woods*

Mystic Flour had already made herself sound quite trustworthy, but of course, this can't be without some sort of catch. . . Though she looks caring on the outside, she sees the player as a mere tool, a stepping stool for something much greater. Her methods of getting information is much more subtle

Both minigames mentioned before required some sort of skill, Mystic Flour's is no exception. Similar to classic video game "Snake," the player's goal is to fill the respected area using dragons instead of snakes (wonder why?)

Pretty much the minute the two of them enter her domain, she basically gives them free range to do whatever. She doesn't really care if the player wanders too far or gets into spaces they shouldn't. But she will let you know when it's time to head back

*As the sun starts to set, you continue to search about the area like a curious child, you hardly noticed Mystic Flour standing just behind you*

"Little pika, dear it's time to head back!~"

*Hearing her voice yelling out to you so suddenly just barely startled you, but you gained back your composure once you see her warm smile*

"Oh! Hi Mystic Flour Cookie! Just give me a second, I have to check a few more things!"

*It wasn't like you weren't going to listen to her orders, you just had a bit more to do. But watching you get farther & farther away from her; Mystic Flour saw it differently. Already making her way toward you, she proceeded to scoop you into her arms, startling you and plastering blush onto your face, as she started walking you back herself*

"*ah!*W-Wait! Mystic Flour Cookie, I wasn't done ye-!"

"I know, I know, dear, you have your little tasks!~ But you'll have so much time to do them tomorrow, so please, might we head back? I'm sure the food is getting cold!"

*With you being in her grasp and your legs being very much off the ground, there wasn't really a choice to keep going. You could've kicked and screamed, but there were doubts that'd even work. . . And so, with no other options, you let her take you away, which sucked, but hey, at least you have yummy food waiting for you!*

Mystic Flour has the sheer amount of enthusiasm as an overly supportive mother, she has not a clue of what the player is doing but they're doing great! But like some mothers, she tries a more "hands off" approach as a way to set rules, intentionally not telling the player helpful information just for the sake of them learning it themselves

She does, however, provide them with all the materials to do so: a bedtime routine, plenty of food, and a warm winter outfit. Speaking of which, due to the wintery background, Mystic Flour gives them an outfit most suitable to withstand the cold, something heavy, but also angelic, a nun like dress colored a soft yellow, complete with black counterparts. The only downside is that defending the player from the cold is its only purpose, for it is much too heavy anywhere else and unbearable in hotter areas

Unlike the other beasts mentioned, Mystic Flour has no interest in forming a genuine relationship with the player. To her, you only serve one purpose, finding her escape (whatever that means) and is more direct into reaching her goal. She creates a false sense of security between the two of them, then when the time is right, uses that bond to her advantage. Fortunately, this behavior does change as the story continues, and Mystic Flour becomes more interested, and attached, to the player, but for now, her methods remain neutral

This becomes more apparent as Mystic Flour tries getting information out of the player in a sort of therapeutic way, sitting them down and letting them speak about their troubles, starting with the obvious. . .

"And. . . that's pretty much what happen. . ."

*You laid atop the much larger cookie, your head resting on her lap as she lightly massaged your hair. You rub your hands uncomfortably, as if waiting for bad news, your throat felt strained. Sandwiched between two angry beings, getting pulled into the sky then ripped in two, these were memories you weren't ready to revisit, especially with someone you've met only a few moments ago. . . At the same time, was holding this deep inside healthy? You saw life flash before your eyes, seconds before being split in half. . . Besides, you were already holding onto so much. . . would it hurt to let go of some. . . You felt Mystic Flour let go of your hair as she began running her hand on your face*

"Oh you, poor, poor, dear. . ."

"I am so sorry you had to be apart of. . . that. . ."

*Although you couldn't see her face, she sounded genuinely sorry for you, which was quite refreshing considering everything you've been through so far*

"They can be rather selfish at times, only thinking about themselves. . . You're lucky you've ended up with me!~"

*You laughed at her remark, trying to brighten up the mood, despite still feeling, well, you didn't know what to feel at that point. . .*

"*Heh* Yeah. . . I guess you're right. . ."

*Unannounced to you, Mystic Flour smiled to herself, her plan was working swimmingly. . . Having brought you to a docile state, it was more than a better time to gather the information she'd been longing for. . .*

"If you would allow me to. . . may I ask you something else?"

*You think for a minute, it was only one question, what harm could it do. . .*

"*Uh* sure. . . what is it?"

"Well little pika, you see-"

*Before the words could fall out of her mouth, there was a sudden loud BANG noise from outside. Respectfully, this startles you, making you flinch, but Mystic Flour didn't seem to move. . . Looking back up, you were finally able to see her face, she seemed irritated, annoyed. Gently, she lifted your head off her lap, resting you onto your knees, confused, you turn to her and saw that she was already standing, looking down upon you. She mumbled something under her breath*

"*Ugh* At a time like this. . ?!"

"Just a moment pika. . . I have to handle something. . ."

Mystic Flour considers herself to be the mother figure of the beasts, and although uncompassionate at times, she plays her role well

~Burning Spice~

(Literally the most perfect segway!~)

All it took was Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar fighting for Burning Spice Cookie to want a part of the action. Last where we left off with them, the two managed to split the player in half, insides and everything, and were now freaking out over their (very much dead) body, whilst arguing over whose fault it was. By sheer coincidence, did Burning Spice decide to check up on Eternal Sugar, and catches site of the two yelling at each other

Burning Spice hasn't met the player, doesn't know who they are nor what they look like, but he took immediate interest in them after seeing how they affected the two other beasts. If just their mutilated body was enough to cause them to start screaming and crying like little kids, who knows what else they could do. . .

Already, he was making assumptions of what kind of person they'd be, perhaps the player was someone strong and intimidating, someone perfect to be his sparring partner, and continues to deny any sort of actual description of them

Him, Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar had mostly worked together in their search for the player, but the millisecond they found out they were with Mystic Flour, the race was on. . . Which takes us to now, where Burning Spice appears first, causing a massive scene with his abilities in an attempt to lure her out

*Alerted by the sudden destruction just outside, Mystic Flour rushed to her outer balcony, irritated like this had happened before. . . She knew exactly who the culprit was, and sure enough, there he was, sitting casually atop the balcony's railing, Burning Spice greeted her with a sinister look on his face. She had already prepared herself, immediately knowing that something was about to go down*

"There she is, Misty! Long time no see!"

"Burning Spice Cookie. . . what brings you here. . ?"

"*Oh!* I think you know exactly why I'm here!"

*Getting off the railing, he walked toward his comrade, having no use in making a big deal out of it. Mystic Flour, although slightly surprised, saw it as a sort of threat, only further did she stand her ground*

"Ya see, a little birdie told me that you've been hiding a shiny new treasure from us. And I, of course, thought it'd be too good to be true. . . So I decided to drop by to take a look for myself. . !"

*He tried walking around her to reach the balcony's entrance, but before he could take another step, Mystic Flour stopped him, she wouldn't back down that easily. . .*

"There is no such thing. . . whatever is in my possession is none of your business. . !"

*In her defensive state, Burning Spice's persistence only grew, now patting her shoulder almost reassuringly*

"Hey, c'mon Misty!~ we're buddies, pals! Letting me get a tiny sneak peek shouldn't be a problem!"

"Say, how about this? You let me see what you're hiding, and I promise, I won't tell the others, I'll even let ya keep it! So what do ya say?~"

*Not even seconds after he said that, he immediately tried pushing past Mystic Flour as if she'd already answered his question. Of course, she shut that down almost instantly, even pushing him back, something which he doesn't really take well. His eyes widened, she set him off by just that push alone. She could bluntly tell he was lying, only using their relationship as an excuse, so she didn't let him any closer*

"Burning Spice Cookie, we've known each other for eons, do you really think I wouldn't be able to recognize one of your petty excuses. . . ?! "

"If you knew better, you'd be wise enough to leave, for this so-called treasure you're after, I know nothing about!"

*Pushing and telling him to leave. . . yep, that'll do it. . . Burning Spice broke into laughter as his hair began to glow warms shades of red, orange, and yellow, moving like a sea of flames*

"*HA HA HA HAHAHA!* *Oh!* Misty, ya might just make me angry!"

*His tone quickly shifts from trigger-happy to overall threatening once he'd opened his eyes, now just as bright as his hair, he marches towards Mystic Flour, who was all the more irritated and unfazed*

"And you. . . don't wanna make me angry. . !"

"Make you angry?! *Heh!* Didn't know it was so easy to mess with that small brain of yours!"

*It isn't long before the two engage in full on battle, both sides being equally matched in some way. While this was all happening, you were completely unaware; being inside exploring, you're none the wiser of the destruction going on outside*

Eventually, Burning Spice does manage to bust his way inside, and upon actually seeing the player in their simple state, he couldn't be more disappointed, to think Shadow Milk and Eternal Sugar's bickering would be caused by such a boring little cookie(but those two do fight over a lot of things, so-)

He'd almost considered leaving them, but Burning Spice would rather leave with something than nothing, so taking his losses he hoists up the player over his shoulder and makes, a not so quiet, escape. Much to Mystic Flour's dismay and the player's protests (or cries for help depending on what they choose)

Burning Spice sees the player like how a general sees a soldier. He thinks they're weak, bland, and more notably boring, and wants to, in his words, "spice them up." Because of this, he is unnecessarily harsh, working the player to the bone and expecting them to "get up" when they get too tired

*How long has it been. . ? An hour? Two hours? At that point you didn't know, but all you did know is that it felt like an eternity since Burning Spice started your so called "training." Back and forth, you were forced to run with heavy rocks on your back whilst following him, who was doing the same. All the while he'd yell at you to pick up the pace as encouragement. . .You huffed and panted*

"*Hah**hah. . .* Burning Spice Cookie, please, can't we stop for. . . just a minute. . ?"

*It was the only time he'd turn back at you, what a ridiculous ask!*

"What?! Definitely not! ya still got a lot to go, pipsqueak!"

*You couldn't go on any longer. A mess of sweat and sore bones, you plummet to the ground, numb to the rocks currently on your back, you wanted rest, at least for a minute. . . Burning Spice only reached a good distance away before noticing you were far, far behind. He ran back to you, but not because he was worried*

"Ay! Pipsqueak, what's the holdup?!"

*He crouched down, better viewing your shriveled up body, far too weak to keep going. Despite the obvious, Burning Spice still tried getting you to stand, poking, even attempting to pull you off the ground, but you won't budge. . .*

"C'mon! Quit acting like Eternal Sugar Cookie and get moving!"

"Please. . . let me rest. . ."

*Your sweat could've well stained the ground if it were cool enough. . . You were stubborn & refused to get up, becoming a puddle of flesh. Realizing that you weren't moving, he, grudgingly, decides to do what was best, but first he had to move you somewhere more suitable to your needs*

"*Ugh* Alright! Fine! I'll let you outta this, only once!"

*Swiftly brushing the rocks off your back, he scoops you up and onto his shoulder, no way would he let you die right then and there. You suddenly feel the biggest weight being literally lifted off your shoulders, thanking whatever was out there for this moment*

"I'll let you rest, but not here!"

"*Heh* Thank you. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!"

Everything Burning Spice does, he expects the player to do the same, no matter how difficult. But will give them the benefit of the doubt when the player gets too tired to keep going, much to his annoyance

He's active and moving 24/7, that's why Burning Spice's minigame is directly based on "Super Mario Bros" where the player runs about collecting items, attacking enemies, etc.

If the player is talking to him, he'll most entirely talk about himself, boosting his ego, even throwing insults at the other beasts, which is both annoying and ironic because he does the exact same things that they do. That being said, it's important to never get mad at him or give him attitude because it will work him up, for better or worse. . .

The player can easily get information from him due to his blunt honesty. When talking about the other beasts, he'll always give bits of helpful information about them, some that can be extremely helpful in the future

Similar to Mystic Flour, Burning Spice gives the player free range to do whatever, the only difference is that Burning Spice sets up these "training sessions" on random occasions without notifying the player firsthand, and expects them to drop everything to train with him. This exhausts the player, causing them to only be able to do things during the day, when they've required enough rest

*Stumbling into the room Burning Spice gave you, you flop onto the bed, nestling your head against your pillow, relived. You were finally able to rest your jelly legs, sore running around and doing tasks. But you turn to your side, something catches your eye. . . On the single window of your room, you noticed what looked to be a slip of paper. Despite being entirely drained, your curiosity got the better of you, and slipping from the bed, you make your way toward the windowsill, now realizing how out of place from the rest of the room, appearing more of a light lilac than any of the reds and oranges. You questioned if even came from the place, and upon proper examination, your suspicions seemed correct. . . This was no mere paper, but a letter! Curiosities only felt more rapid as you opened, revealing not only short message crafted in cursive, but a beautiful illustration of a rose*

"Small Rodent, have you been faring well within our world? Have you been eating, sleeping well? I hope the others hadn't been too cruel towards you. . . Word of mouth does not travel fast here, so I apologize if I arrive to you late. . . I wish to reach you soon. . ."

"From- Silent Salt Cookie"

"Small Rodent. . ?"

*Reading through the passage, you took a few seconds to process, hoping that whoever sent it wasn't suggesting what you thought they were suggesting, cause if you got kidnapped one more time. . .-*

"Aye! Pipsqueak!!"

*Burning Spice had, without warning, busted into the room, no time for internal dialogue now! With milliseconds to think, you swiftly hide the letter behind your back, not before confronting the brute for his sudden excursion of your privacy*

"B-Burning Spice Cookie?! What are you doing here?!-"

"What?~ I can't check on my little pipsqueak, can't I?~"

*Again with the nickname. .?! Blushing rapidly, you couldn't tell whether you were annoyed, angry, or just plain embarrassed. . . Burning Spice laughed boastingly, always amused by your expressions*

"*HAHAHAH!~* Ya never fail to entertain me, pipsqueak!~"

*Then he noticed the arms behind your back. . .*

"Say, whatcha got there? Ya hiding something from me?"

*Shoot! the letter was still in your hands! Only seeing this as more of a reason to keep it hidden, you play it cool for as much as possible*

"I-It's nothing! W-What are you talking about?!*hehe*"

*Burning Spice just saw your actions as even more suspicious, he might be a barbarian, but he isn't stupid. He attempted turning you around to see what exactly you were keeping from him, all the while you were trying to dodge him, cold sweat beginning to run down your forehead*

"Are ya sure? Cause *uh* ya starting to look pretty sweaty there. . ."

"Oh!- this?! *Uhh. . .* I'm just, tired! from all the training today *haha!*"

*You two do this dance a bit, with you becoming doubly irritated the more Burning Spice tried seeing what you're hiding, getting additionally irritated while Burning Spice looked completely willing to tear your front open, asking and reinsuring you, again and again to get a little looksee. And you thought Shadow Milk was nosy?! Annoying and driven to your breaking point, you practically yell at him-*

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OK?!"

*Hearing those words fall out of your mouth, Burning Spice is beyond tooken aback, clearly, he didn't like being told what to do. You quickly gasp to yourself, slamming your mouth closed with a free hand upon realizing what you've just said, how could you be so stupid?! With the letter still in your other hand, you decide the best course of action was to crumble up the paper, that letter was the least of your worries now anyway. . .*

"Did. . .Did you just yell at me. . ?!"

*You gulped, your sweat becoming increasingly apparent as the brute looked seconds away from having steam shoot out his ears. He proceeds to get unnervingly close, practically towering over you. . .Didn't think it would end this way. . .*

"That. . . Is. . ."

"Great!!!"

"Ya getting spicier by the minute!"

*Burning Spice grabbed both your shoulders, and shook them with excitement, much to your bewilderment. The way his tone can just shift was both jarring and impressive. After a bit of violent shaking and surviving what would've been another death experience, he eventually lets go, not before giving you a hardy slap to the back whilst laughing, dang near knocking you off your feet and the letter out of your hand*

"*HA! HA!* Ya know what!? Take the rest of the day off! I wanna see my hard work!"

*He happily marches out of the room, leaving you in a rather messed up state*

"Be sure to get all the rest ya need! Ya gonna need it for tomorrow!"

*Burning Spice leaves the room, shutting the door, the second he was out of sight, you took the biggest sigh of relief. That was close, way too close! Like you practically dodged a bullet! You pull back out the crumbled-up letter and tried to fix it, somewhat regretting your decision of almost destroying it before. You had to be more careful next time*

During this entire scene, the player must be extra careful around Burning Spice, because despite how it's played, there's a route where he discovered the letter while they're asleep, and he's not too pleased with having Silent Salt trying to contact them, promptly getting so angry he burns the letter to ashes

That being said, Burning Spice, though seeming like a rage-filled brute who fights first and asks questions later, he's never threatening nor outright violent to the player, unless its a final resort. The player is a much-needed piece in a, all be it complex, puzzle, even if they don't even know it, and in order for them to work is through gaining their trust. But don't think that this is a good thing, there are many times where he could've hurt them yet actively chose not to

He immediately got to work constructing another outfit for the player cause in his own words, "there's no way ya staying here looking like that!" And the outfit he gives them perfectly reflects his ego, slick black clothing, paired with red barbaric accents, and brightly colored armor, making the player look like a mini version of himself. It's good enough for the endless training they have to do, but it's clear that some parts of the outfit were put together at the last second and were made from the minimal sewing Burning Spice learned. And if wanting to be honest, it's kinda ugly. . . Overall, it's the player's least favorite of the outfits given (if they decide it is)

Every hour, it feels like Burning Spice is always learning something new about the player, to him at least. Because of this, he celebrates every accomplishment they make with lavished (and very spicy) feasts, no matter how small they might be. Not exactly the best prize for basically being slaved away constantly to a point of exhaustion, but he doesn't need to know that. The only downside to this is that he's loud, like really loud, so loud in fact, he can't hear any other voices but his own, making him clearly oblivious to a certain someone stealing away the player(-again)

So Burning Spice, a not-so great roommate, but a pretty good personal trainer

~Silent Salt~

Ever since leaving Shadow Milk's site, someone else had been watching the player for some time, someone who wasn't too distant from the player, none other than the silent knight themself, Silent Salt Cookie

Once they found out about the player, there wasn't an ounce of disbelief nor hesitation that got into their head, they only had one goal in mind, and that was getting the player out of the other beasts' hands. But like a hungry wolf with its meal, they knew it wouldn't be easy. The other beasts always kept the player at arm's length, even with the leisure they receive, those four always made sure they were watched. And so they waited, and waited, and waited. . . In till they had the right moment to strike

Normally the beasts would be more direct when approaching the player, probably showing some pity towards them, not before whisking them away, Silent Salt on the other hand had a more different approach. They'd leave small letters for the player, all written in cursive and paired with a beautifully drawn illustration which they constructed themselves. Silent Salt essentially gives the player a bread crumb trail, preparing them for what was to come as to not spook them later

"Last one to get back to the base goes stale!"

"Burning Spice Cookie! Wait up!"

*You two were only trying to get back. . . nothing too special, yet of course, Burning Spice just had to turn it into a game of tag, didn't he?! Already tired from the day's activities, you struggled to move forward, and the barbarian is way ahead. Despite how unfair, annoying, and exhausting it was, you sighed, it wasn't the first time he did this. . . As you forced your body further, all you cared about was getting rest. You never understood why Burning Spice pushed your body to such lengths, but if there was one other reason to keep going it was to spite him. But as you were about halfway there, an unknown force suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, you yelped, why does everyone here like grabbing you!?*

"*AH!* W-What the!?-"

*Pulled into an unnoticed corner, you practically swing yourself around, already having a good idea of just who decided to yank you out of the way, and you got what you wished for. . . Hovering over your tiny body, was the silent knight themself, quiet and unmoving, looking down at you. . . You jump back a bit startled, those training sessions are sounding a lot better right now. . . Although frozen with fear, it didn't take long to realize that something wasn't right. Sure, they appeared in front of you but that was merely it, just standing there, menacingly, almost like a statue. Your fear quickly dissolves into pure confusion as you stare back at them, the moment shifting into awkward silence. You already had a decent idea of who this fellow might be, and decided to use it as a way to break the barrier between you two*

"*Um. . .* Hi. . ."

"Y-You're Silent Salt Cookie, right. . ?"

*It took them a second to respond, and by "respond" they actually crouched down and got extremely close to your face, adding to your bewilderment, and barely managing to keep your composure*

"*ah!-* I'm gonna take that as a yes. . !"

*As a result of being thrown around so much, you practically knew what was next, but seeing the knight so still felt alien to you, and almost refreshing. . ? Like you were happy to just not be snatched for once, as morbid as that sounds. Oh but no, that's not right, who's to say that this fellow was to be trusted. You make the bold choice to ask them more questions, but before another word could fall out of your mouth. . .*

"Aye Pipsqueak! What's the hold up!?"

It's a no-brainer that Burning Spice finally noticed the player's absence, they have the rightful decision of running to him or yelling out, which Silent Salt covers their mouth and attempts to take them away(what a surprise!) The second route, however, the player's (4th) kidnapping is put on display for Burning Spice, who did not handle the situation well. He immediately rushes in to save them, but Silent Salt was much too swift for him. All the while, the player attempts to save themselves; trying to kick, scream, and squirm their way to freedom, but nothing works, they were a knight after all. Enraged, Burning Spice yells at Silent Salt that he'll get revenge, and he won't be alone. . !

(And before we go on any further, I personally like to hc that Silent Salt is both mute and deaf because 1. it matches with the new ancient heroes since Pure Vanilla is heavily implied to be blind; and 2. it'd make sense that the witches would want to make a disabled cookie. During their pre-corruption days, the five virtues also had to be role models for the cookies, thus they had to, at some extent, be relatable. So giving one of the virtues something that other cookies can relate to makes sense. Oh and as a bonus, Silent Salt is completely fluent in ASL and is fairly good at lip reading; Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour are also fluent in ASL and often act as their mouth pieces. Ok moving on!)

You'd think that the player wouldn't trust Silent Salt from the jump, given the circumstances & that this happened to them so many other times, and yet. . . Silent Salt was the only one to be considerate of the player's feelings before performing the act, they knew the player would be scared, if not terrified, of them, especially when you consider their appearance and quiet nature; thus they planted the letter to let them know. So although this doesn't mean the player fully trusts them, it is a step into the right path

How they view the player is a complete mystery, unlike the other beasts, it isn't just spelled out in ink. Instead, the player has to focus on their interactions and certain body language, since they can't speak

Similarly to Eternal Sugar, Silent Salt will often give the player gifts in an attempt to gain their trust. The main difference on the other hand was that those gifts were much smaller scale than what Eternal Sugar gave them, but still feel more thought out and genuine

*Lilac-colored curtain draped over large windows, comfortable sitting, and a bed that resembled a soft marshmallow, you had to admit, for living in a wasteland, they sure knew a thing or two about decor. But as you admired your new bedroom, you get a sudden knock on the door, and opening it a crack, you see Silent Salt, they appeared to be holding a few things*

"Oh! Silent Salt Cookie! What brings you-"

*Fully opening the door revealed what they were holding, a bouquet of beautifully made paper flowers in one hand, and a sliver tin, filled with salted chocolates in the other. Seeing the gifts, you were pleasantly surprised, not just by the tin of sweets but the paper flowers, so true to life and clearly made by them, you were amazed by the fact they were able to pull something like that off*

"Wow! are these for me?"

*The knight nodded their head, handing both gifts to you. Despite how small the gesture was, you still felt a tiny bit overwhelmed, the smallest hint of blush creeped onto your face*

"T-Thank you! They're lovely!"

Silent Salt was & still somewhat is known for their skills with a sword, thus the reason why their minigame is based on "Fruit Ninja." The player, instead of slicing fruit, is made to cut different pieces of paper according to a dotted line, in an attempt to mimic Silent Salt's paper flowers

While out exploring and doing tasks, Silent Salt will actually partner up with the player & help them, which is already a massive change from the player's other beast encounters. Either they'd find ways to stretch the task out even longer, or just not help at all, so having them there is a huge change of pace. They're always by the player's side, because of this, they can come off as clingy at times

They, like most of the beasts, give the player free range to do whatever, but is quick to set boundaries. The player isn't allowed to go into certain areas without their supervision, especially at night

*Lightly tracking your steps across cold floors, you carefully tiptoe through the Silent domain, moonlight streaking onto every nook and cranny acted as your only light source, which you tried to use to your advantage, the last thing you wanted was to be caught. But when you turned the corner, guess who you unceremoniously bumped into. . ? Pressed into their chest, you abruptly backed away startled & flustered realizing who it was, Silent Salt just looked at you, just like before*

"*Ah!-* Silent Salt Cookie. . ! It's not what you think. . !"

"I-I just have a few other things to do, that's all!-"

*The silent knight only stood there, arms crossed, making their stance all the more stern. You already had a good idea of what was going on in their head, no amount of convincing would change your fate. So with a sigh, you started heading back to your room, not before Silent Salt gently scoops you up, refusing to let you touch the floor, and carried you there themself. Blushing rapidly, you beg and plead for them to put you down, but failed miserably; why does everyone like carrying you so much. . ?*

Silent Salt treats the player like they're the most fragile thing on Earthbread, handling them with care and, with their position as a knight, more than happy to cater to their every need and desire

Due to their disability and limitations in lip reading, talking to them is difficult, creating this communication barrier between them and the player. This, however, doesn't stop the two of them from trying to fix the issue

That being said, Silent Salt most definitely wants to teach the player ASL so they can communicate easier. They made sure they'd take their time, teaching them all they need to know, starting with letters, to phrases, to full sentences. Even if the player struggles to learn at first, they're extremely patient with them, teaching things one step at a time

If it wasn't already obvious, Silent Salt is very delicate with their hands, due to their precise skills with a sword. Because of this, they picked up quite a few hobbies, like painting and drawing, clearly showed by the letter they made the player before, and surprisingly, braiding hair

*Slowly, the silent knight carefully overlapped strand after strand of hair from your head into beautiful braids. They put special care into each braid, constantly checking with you to make sure they were comfortable, even going the extra mile of creating more paper flowers to infuse into the braids. Sitting in front of the bedroom's vanity mirror, you were in awe at how perfect the braids were, your hair practically became an art project! Looking back at them, you couldn't see their face, but you could tell Silent Salt was genuinely enjoying themself, how they added flower after flower, even sometimes placing one directly onto your head; because well, why not? It was moments like this that made you think back to when you first met, back to when their silence felt alien to you, and how you were so unwilling to cooperate. . . Yes, you still didn't fully trust the knight, all of this just felt too perfect, almost too good to be true even, but it does. After placing the last flower, they were finally done, the braids were wrapped around your head and tied in the back with a purple ribbon*

If the hairstyle doesn't make them feel like royalty, then don't worry, Silent Salt had them covered. Cause not soon after doing their hair, they presented their outfit, which looked more like a gorgeous gown than any regular dress. Everything about it was perfect, the long white silk trin that partly touched the floor, the bow around the waste that matched your hair, the simple purple accents, its ruffled layers, everything. But possibly the most radiant part of the gown was these beautiful sewn in embroideries, each more beautiful than the last, all throughout. This was the straw that broke that camel's back, such actions of kindness couldn't go unrewarded; so through ASL, the player is able to sign phrases "thank you" and "sorry," to which Silent Salt immediately accepts. Quite a shame the player couldn't do more. . . The only two downside one could think of is that it strongly resembled a wedding dress, which can give the wrong ideas fast; also the gown length gives the possibility of tripping, but that's a simple price to pay

The relationship between the player and Silent Salt is mostly through action, and to some extent, physical touch. The player is always finding new and creative ways to repay them for everything they've done, often finding themselves cooking or cleaning for them, even gifting them drawings and paper creations they made themselves. Silent Salt does find this sweet and charming, but as a knight, they really have no desires. They crave the simpler things, like holding hands, learning ASL, or just being together in general. No amount of wasted paper would change that

Unfortunately, as stated before, not everything can be too blissful. . . Silent Salt is regularly shown to be extremely overprotective of the player, which does make sense considering their role; Silent Salt is a knight, keeping the innocent safe is their job, and the fact that the other beasts were also after them only made them double down on protecting them. Now, Silent Salt, before meeting the player, had no plans of escape, at least even they think of, in fact, became increasingly fond of their surroundings. . . Only when they learned the player did they start to reconsider. . . with a new opportunity, they couldn't simply pass it up. . .

Because of this, they've developed a 6th sense(or 5th or 4th) whenever they felt the player was in danger. Silent Salt can pick up signals of danger from miles away, and acts quickly ensure their safety, so imagine the player's surprise and confusion when being rushed somewhere else

*Everything was a blur. . . One second ago you and Silent Salt were spending time together per usual, before you knew it you were being pulled into your room, and Silent Salt was doing repeated checks on the door and windows, making sure they were locked. Confused, you try to stop them in their tracks, to get some sort of answer, but all they did was clutch both your hands tightly, looking you directly in the eyes; before abruptly letting go, telling you to never, for any reason, open the door or windows till they came back, then disappears, leaving you in a state of flustered shock. Even if completely unexpected on your end, it became increasingly clear why Silent Salt acted the way they did. . . with a battle axe, guess who was waiting just outside. . ?*

"Salty! right on time!~ It's been awhile, hasn't it?~"

*The knight merely stood there, sword in hand with a tight grip. They already knew what the brute was saying, him placing the axe's handle on the back of his neck as he began to walk towards them*

"Honestly, I'm pretty surprised Salty!~ Out of everybody here, it's you who'd be dumb enough to steal from me, me!"

"Cause when I think of stealing, I usually think of Shadow Milk Cookie, maybe Eternal Sugar Cookie if what we're after is really worth fighting for, but you?! *HA!* Didn't think of ya as the taking type!~"

"*Hmm. . .* I like it! You know I always love a good surprise?~"

*With every step he took, Silent Salt only further stood their ground, having already pulled their sword out from the dirt and getting into a battle stance. Upon reading their body language, his grin only got bigger, he knew exactly what was doing and actively stirred the pot. He put his hands up as he backed away in a condescending yet reassuring tone*

"*Woah!-* *Woah!-* Easy there buddy!~ Now I know what it looks like, but I promise, I didn't come here to cause trouble. . ."

"Instead, I'm looking for a little. . . exchange. . ."

*Burning Spice proceeded to hold his axe behind his back to make himself appear more innocent. All the while Silent Salt didn't once get out of their battle-ready mindset*

"Now I know I can be a little. . . hectic at times, but for this I'm willing to make one exception. . ."

"Say, I won't leave a scratch on your place, if you return what you've stole from me. . !"

"A simple deal, really!- You get out of this with no causalities, and I leave with that little cookie in tow!~ So what do ya say. . ?"

*Silent Salt was only getting parts of the Burning Spice's so called "deal," and already, they were not having it. . ! With just a blink of an eye, Silent Salt went from guarding their domain to holding the tip of their blade at Burning Spice's throat, as if they teleported, they were that fast. . ! Along with Shadow Milk's lies, none of the beasts were dumb enough to fall for one of his exchanges! The knight was clearly provoked; exactly what the brute wanted, so he kicked back far enough to pull his axe out from his back. Though the kick was strong, Silent Salt was still able to hold their ground, using their sword to keep their footing. There was a battle-hungry look in his eyes*

"*HA HA!* You just love surprising me, don't ya Salty?!"

*He then stretched his neck and shoulders, tense bones popped at the motion. Then proceeded to do his battle stance*

"Whatever! Wouldn't have worked anyway! Besides, no one gets dumber around here, right?! *HA!*"

"But one thing's for sure. . . Doesn't matter how tough you act. . . I'm not leaving without my pipsqueak. . !"

*His tone shifted to slight anger as his hair turned into bright flames. Having weapons drawn, it's clear as day as neither was willing to do what the other wanted, nor give in. Both had goals set in stone and willing to follow through with them; but just before they could actually strike at one and other. . .*

"*Yoo-hoo~* Up here!~"

"Apologizes for being so late you two, we've bumped into some. . . causalities. . ."

*In from above, flew in Eternal Sugar atop one of her clouds as Mystic Flour floated beside her, landing onto opposites of the brute and knight, creating this strange box. Burning Spice became all the happier, being the violence-obsessed cookie he was, this just maybe the fight more interesting for him. While Silent Salt was as stern as ever, despite being outnumbered*

"Misty! Sugar! Welcome to the party!! Just when things were starting to get interesting!~"

"*Ugh* Don't overexcite yourself Burning Spice Cookie, some of us only want this to be over with. . !"

*She has a quick glance at the beasts around her, just as annoyed of as before*

"So . . . I assume we all know about our new. . . 'inhabitant,' yes?"

*The silent knight nodded*

"*Pfft* *Uh Duh!-* What's was ya first clue?!"

"That's right! It's been far too long since I've seen another cookie, and when I finally find one, they're snatched from my hands!"

"Oh my poor little mouse!~ They must've been so lonely since they were taken away from me!"

"Being pushed and pulled by some brute and locked away by some scary knight?!~ What can be worse?!"

*Eternal Sugar whined and whined, nitpicking everything that she deemed "cruel treatment," and although most of the things said were true, Burning Spice couldn't help but take offense*

"Aye! What do ya mean by 'pushing and pulling around?!' I have you know I treat them with utmost respect and care!"

"*HA!* You call your so called 'training' of yours respect and care?! Don't make me laugh!"

"Unlike you, I provide my little mouse with everything they could ever need, everything they desire. . ! I make them happy! All your training does is ruin their perfect mind and body!"

*She looked over to her two other comrades*

"At least I can be assured that those two actually kept them safe, otherwise, I wouldn't know what I'd do. . ."

"Even Shadow Milk Cookie takes better care of my little mouse. . ."

*That's when most of the group realized a crucial detail, where the heck was Shadow Milk?! Unannounced to them, Mystic Flour already had a good idea of where he was, but waited to answer. . .*

"Oh yeah! Shadow Milk Cookie isn't here! Where is the guy anyway?!"

"When we found out the pika was being kept here, we came as soon as possible. But it wasn't long before Shadow Milk separated from us; we tried to pursue him but by then, he was already gone. . ."

"Perhaps we should wait for him. . .Knowing him, he likely has something planned. . !"

*With Shadow Milk being the smartest of their group, waiting for him seemed like the safest option, after all he was known for his tricks, who knows what he could be planning. Yet the brute and angel, who always had something to say, didn't have the patience for such. . .*

"And let him get another chance on stealing my little mouse away again?! Absolutely not!!"

"Yeah Misty, not having Shadow Milk Cookie around means less of us to get through, even if it is kinda boring! *HA HA!*"

"Wouldn't want his filth to rub off on my pipsqueak. . !"

*Eternal Sugar gasped in surprise and utter disgust*

"'Your' Pipsqueak?! are you delusional?! Clearly they're mine!!"

*Burning Spice cracked his knuckles, as he puffed his chest*

"Oh yeah?! Then why don't ya prove it?!"

*Mystic Flour groaned in irritation, if her eyes were open she would have definitely rolled them, this charade was going too far*

"*Ugh* You two are bickering like children! Could you at least not treat them like some object?! It's likely that the pika will return to me or Silent Salt Cookie, at least we don't see them as a mere pet. . !"

*Silent Salt nodded in agreement*

"And yet, I think we all know what we're really after. . . "

*With that sentence alone, it made Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar as quiet as Silent Salt was. . . The whole area was hushed, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. . .The four beasts side eyed each other, as if ready to duel; evidence was undeniably clear, they wanted to use you. . .for something? After keeping their running mouths shut for what felt like decades, Burning Spice finally breaks the silence, drawing his weapon, his patience was already dissolved. . .*

"Alright, that's it! We all want the cookie, and just sitting around isn't gonna help!"

"So, let's settle this. . . once and for all. . !"

"Agreed!"

"*Ugh* Suppose we should get this over with. . !"

*As Silent Salt drew their sword, the battle had began. The four played sides, the three of them trying to barge their way in, and Silent Salt trying to keep them out; and despite how unfair the fight seemed, not only were they evenly matched, but they all were fighting for themselves, for their own selfish goals, all of which surrounded getting to you. . . Speaking of that, you were once more left in the dark, spared from the situation. Not to say you aren't curious about what was going on either, in fact you were completely willing to open the windows to look outside if Silent Salt didn't tell you to keep them closed. Laying on top of the marshmallow bed, you stare up at the ceiling in boredom and something else. You received another to be alone with your thoughts, really rekindle and wonder. . . What the hell was going on?! First you were teleported to this strange place, then you were kidnapped five times, then you basically died and came back to life? Nothing about your situation was normal! Not to mention the cookies you're trapped with, if you can even call them "cookies" what even were they? You didn't know anything about them, what to feel about them, let alone if you could trust them or not. . . Questions were swimming in your head like fish upstream, feelings fighting for control in till. . .*

"*AH HAHAHAHA!~* no matter what, the story always stays the same!~"

*You hear a voice, a squeaky, arrogant, yet oh so voice. . . You look around in surprise, was that who you thought it was?!*

"That's right!~ The hero has arrived!~"

". . .To save his damsel in distress!~"

*CRASH!*

*Destroying one of the windows, bursts in the self-proclaimed trickster himself, Shadow Milk Cookie, the suddenness of the action making you fall off your bed startled and almost near giving you a heart attack. When hitting the ground, he did a quick barrel roll before landing on one knee in a sort of "ta-da!" position, acting like he didn't ruin a perfectly good glass plane, and much to your bewilderment. You quickly get up and stand towards him*

"S-Shadow Milk?! Are you ok?!"

"Awh~ Look at you!~ worrying for lil'ol me!~"

"I'm perfectly fine my little mousey!~ Absolutely splendid!~"

*You knew you should've expected a reaction like that from him of all cookies, but it didn't stop you from going dumbfounded*

"You just jumped in through a closed window!!"

*He then went on this long, overexaggerated, winded speech about how much he missed you, how you two had been separated for far too long, what lengths he had to go through just to get to you, but you were wise enough to know that he was partly spewing out lies. . . Mystic Flour knew he had a plan, and had a plan he did! whilst everyone else was occupied, he'd snuck in through a back window, unbelievable how such a cheap tactic was able to work. . . It wasn't long for Shadow Milk to notice the beautiful dress you were wearing, and lights up with glee, zipping toward you, and scaring you once more*

"And might I add, that is quite a marvelous gown you have on!~ *AH!* It makes you look so much more like a proper damsel!~ who made it?!"

"Well-. . ."

*He cuts you off before another word could come out of your mouth*

"-Oh, no, no, no, wait!- don't tell me, Silent Salt Cookie made this, didn't they?~"

"*AH!* It's such a no brainer!~ They make such amazing things, of course they'd make something this cute!~ I'm a little jealous!~ *hehehe!~*"

"*Whew!~* Okay, I think we had enough excitement for one day, hadn't we?~"

*He abruptly grabs your arm and pulls you close, startling you as blush begins to creep up your cheeks*

"Time to go home!~"

*It was the mention of "home" that threw you into a loop, what did he mean by "go home?!" Shocked, you pulled yourself away from the trickster, causing surprise and slight annoyance on his end*

"H-Home?! What are you talking about?!"

"Oh, you ask such silly questions, I'm taking you with me! Back to my humble abode!~"

Obviously, going back to the guy that had the player turned into two halves, is something that they aren't fully ready to do, thus are given the choice to go with him or not; to which both have different, yet very grim results. . . If they say yes, Shadow Milk Cookie will carry them out of Silent Salt's domain, not before being founded out by the other beasts, causing the player to be caught up within the drama, eventually getting stabbed through the chest from all the excitement. . ! On the other hand, if they say no, Shadow Milk with become more persuasive toward the player, reminding them of their time spent apart. If they deny him enough times, his patience begins to wane as his persona falls apart. Becoming more demanding till he snaps, forcing the player to leave with him; but it was already too late, as the other beasts had shown up, who aren't too happy about his late arrival, and chaos ensues, leading to the player getting decapitated. . !(Woooo-)

~Final~

The player ends up back at the top of the altar in the Silver Forest, completely passed out from the shock. All the beasts, after freaking out over their dead body, head there in a heartbeat, arguing over who'd be the one to take the player home, till Mystic Flour decides enough is enough, ending the argument and declaring the Shadow Milk should be the one to take in the player since he found them first, further saying that arguing wouldn't get them anywhere and wants to start a meeting before anyone else could argue back. . . Fast forward to Shadow Milk's base, the player is getting some well needed rest as the beasts are discussing what to do next, although it isn't entirely apparent that they remember how they got there, having them around could be beneficial to their much bigger goals. After a bit of talking, Shadow Milk conjures up a wonderfully, awful, idea. . . keeping the player as their hostage. . . Think about it! From the outside world, they already have reputations for being cold and cruel monsters, if they found out they had a cookie with them, they'd go nuts! Plus, who'd be more inclined to get involved? None other than the new Guardian Of The Seal, and Ancient Hero herself, White Lily Cookie. . . Long story short, they all agree with the plan, as it will guarantee their escape, and check on the player not long after, who was still passed out

*In your dormant state, you lay unconscious as all five beasts watched you, each of them claimed a corner of the bed. As they watched, Silent Salt noticed a slight twitching in your hand, and instinctively embraced theirs into yours, rubbing their thumb on your wrist. Not everybody took it well, cause Eternal Sugar shooed their hand away just a few seconds later*

"*Ugh* Get your hands away from them, you're ruining their slumber. . !"

*She turns back to you as her mood shifts from annoyance to gentle delight*

"Awh~ They look so precious!~"

*Burning Spice leaned forward on the bed to get a better look at you, he seemed upset*

"How long are they gonna be like this. . ? It's been awhile now. . ."

"Roughly a few hours, but I believe they will be awake by tomorrow. . . Poor thing, must have scared them quite a lot "

". . . I think it'd be wise to not tell the pika about our plan, after all, we did get this far with them"

"Right you are, my dear comrade!~"

"If it were to get out that we were keeping them for our own sake, it'd surely shatter any trust we might have, and we don't want them defying us, now do we?~"

*The other beasts agreed*

"*hehehehe!* So it's settled!~"

*Running a hand up your arm, the trickster looked back at you with his signature smile*

"*Hehehehe!*Oh be sure to get all the rest you need, my little mousey!~"

"Cause you'll be in for quite the performance!~"

And that's pretty much how the story begins, the player is their little doll for the time being, none the wiser about the beasts' plans for hostage type deal with The Guardian Of The Seal

(holy crap we're almost done, guess it's time to talk about some background and bonus info)

~Background~

You are playing as the new resident of the Faerie Kingdom, a half-faerie who grew up in Crispia. There, they are known for two things, having cookie genetics and being kinda an a*s, everything makes them unique compared to other faeries, especially the lack of wings on their back, and their personality isn't exactly a pocket of sunshine either. So throw that in a blender, and you got yourself unnecessary fame that many don't want. The player receives the full "little sibling treatment" with faeries being overbearing and constantly getting doted on. Which, of course, sucks, day by day, no matter where they go, they can't escape it! The only escape they have from it all is their day job, working as the librarian's assistant is when they could finally have some peace and quiet, alongside the librarian, who became the player's good friend

Ok! Bonus Stuff!

With the player's kidnapping and life within the Silver Kingdom, a few bonus relationships the player can have are with Silverbell, Mercury Knight, Pure Vanilla, and of course White Lily. SB and Mercury are like childhood friends/crushes, having met the player before the events of the main game, making the player more acquainted toward them. White Lily and Pure Vanilla on the other hand, take a parental role, acting as the player's protectors much later in the game. Both are relatively more alien to the player, especially White Lily, but the two quickly insert themselves, insisting that they only want to keep the player safe(which makes sense considering their mission is to protect Cookiekind, and the player certainly counts) Out of the two, it's White Lily we end up getting the closest with(a mother + child bond if you will), as Guardian Of The Seal, she was horrified to find out the player was being held hostage by the beasts, and wanted to do anything in her power to save them. She also took a liking to their personality (which's fine I guess???)

It may not look like it, but this game is all about choice. It's about the ideas and importance of choice, how decisions affect your life, how even bigger decisions are often made by selfish people, and (I'm probably gonna get publicly executed for this!-) how a democracy should be handled, because let's be honest, we need a better one. . . We'll see plenty examples of a bad democracy among the beasts, as Shadow Milk, the proclaimed "leader" constantly makes choices for others, in reality only thinking about himself; it's through the player he learns to give the others a say in the matter. Speaking of which, it's the player's choices that will have the most impact as the story continues, like how most games do, the only difference is that the game provides a much wider buffet of choices, making the opportunities endless!

If you're reading this then, Congratulations!

You Made It To The End!

Here's A Trophy!🏆(for both me and you cause omfg this took FOREVER! I'm happy with the final result but like- I never thought this would take like 5 weeks to make ;w;)

If I could go back in time, I would've definitely made this shorter. . !

If you any other ideas for this strange fangame, then feel free to let me know!~

Ok, bye!~^^

*decomposes into the soil*

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #something to chew on while I work on my drafts. . .#i have..........so many;w;#eternal sugar cookie #eternal sugar cookie x reader #privated this post bc I wasn't even done with it and was saving it for AFTER the global strike and I posted it on accident-#mystic flour #mystic flour cookie x reader #burning spice cookie #burning spice cookie x reader #slient salt cookie #silent salt cookie x reader #y/n cookie #i put way too much effort into this. . .#i plan on finally finishing the next chapter of anything and everything all of time next that's also biting in the ass lately ;w;#pray for me guys🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽#other than that be on the lookout for my other projects #and as always stay tuned^^#crk x reader

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sapphiresterreart · 9 months

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Inspired by this post: where Shadow finds Super Sonic and ONLY Super Sonic attractive. Sonic's normal self is not wanted.

It made me cackle because I couldn't help but picture Shadow deciding to explore this gay awakening in the most convoluted way possible. Cue me getting carried away with the idea and scribbling a rough scene.

Stuffed under the Read More.

At one point after seeing Sonic's glow-up into Super a few times, Shadow's brain latches onto an idea and goes insane until he scratches the metaphorical itch.

He zooms around the entire planet to collect the 7 Chaos Emeralds AND the maximum amount of rings a single person can hold.

Randomly shows up at Tails’ workshop/house one day, looking particularly deranged to the poor fox because the guy's spent the past month running himself ragged and is now gunning for his older brother for some unfathomable reason. Eggman couldn’t possibly have recovered from the last beat down in such short time! Something’s clearly wrong.

Shadow’s carefully manicured quills are in utter disarray. Gunk and grease coat his muzzle. Gloves notably tattered and inhibitor rings tarnished. There’s a suspicious smearing of red all over his typically immaculate chest fluff. Worst of it all are his eyes: near feral in their intensity as they pin the fox in his computer chair from afar.

The surly hedgehog snarls. “Where’s Sonic?”

All the while, Shadow has to keep ahold of the seven emeralds that prolly act like magnets and want to repel away from each other. His sanity’s hanging on a thread.

Luckily Sonic shows up soon (instead of late? First time for everything! What a relief) after a brief, albeit frantic call from his lil bro.

Sonic does not expect Shadow to look like such a wreck. He does not expect his usually composed rival to yank an absurd amount of rings from the pocket dimension everyone had in their feathers, fur, or otherwise back part of their body. He does not expect those same rings to be shoved into his hands and quills, forcibly stuffing them into his own ‘inventory’ of a pocket dimension.

He does not expect the rings to keep coming until he can’t hold anymore.

He does not expect the Seven Chaos Emeralds to immediately follow after.

“Shad–” Sonic tries, absolutely baffled.

“Transform.” Shadow gives him nothing except a haggard sort of desperation. “Now.”

And. Well. When asked like that? Damn. He won’t say no but that’s some voice his rival has on him. Hmm. Still. He doesn’t go super just yet because there’s only so long a transformation can last and he’d like some of the facts first. Especially if the situation’s as dire as Shadow’s making it out to be.

“What’s up?” He tosses out a tense smirk and a quip to lighten the mood. “Got yourself in trouble with the law again, Shads? Need me to use your own money to bail–“

“Transform.” Shadow staggers and oh no he’s gonna pass out isn’t he? He straightens before he can truly fall.

Sonic lets the smirk fall. This is too unusual. “Not until you tell me what’s going on! What the heck Shadow?”

The glare intensifies. He looks weirdly… hungry? Oh. He hopes that's not some alien DNA comin’ out to play. Sonic’s not in the mood to be eaten. At least… not in the way his shoot-first-questions-later friend would likely consider.

“…Transform first and then I’ll tell you.”

What an oh-so generous counter-offer. Sonic’s tempted to refuse on principle but the guy looks ready to collapse and there’s only so long Sonic himself can hold all seven emeralds at once before they launch outta his grip.

He sighs. “Yeah, alright.”

Sonic closes his eyes. Concentrates. Feels the power humming in the gems, lets them push away from him with him as their center of gravity to orbit. Momentum builds as they whirl around him. His focus deepens. A zen sort of calm settles over him like a familiar cloak as he pulls the gems back into his core sense of being. A spark ignites and he’s set aflame.

His feet leave the floor as the power repels him against the planet. Feels the gems thrumming alongside his veins as he opens his eyes. The world glitters a beautiful gold but he doesn’t have time to smell the roses. Rings are burning like a candlestick’s wick, after all.

“Start talking.”

Shadow does not start talking. Instead he stares. Only stares. It’s… kind of concerning, actually.

“Shadow?” Super Sonic frowns, spending more energy concentrating on maintaining the sheer power humming in his soul than on coming up with a funny joke. “Are you alright?”

Shadow doesn’t make a sound. Is he even breathing? Super Sonic’s brow furrows and gently glides from near the ceiling to hover in front of his rival. Red eyes track the movement like a predator intent on its prey but Super’s not worried about that. Not right now, at least.

Keeping his expression soft, yet unwittingly focused, Super examines his rival’s disheveled state. For the Ultimate Lifeform, he looks ultimately wrecked. He smirks, just a lil, and Shadow hones in on it like a laser beam. Super blinks, smirk twisting into a puzzled smile as he tilts his head, before slowly grasping Shadow by the shoulder.

“C’mon focus, Shadow. You with me?” Wide, red eyes blink dumbly and Super huffs a laugh. “How can I help?”

Shadow. Doesn’t respond. Merely gapes at him like he’s drinking in the sight. It’d be flattering at any other time but right now it’s just frustrating.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s goin’ on. On a time limit here–“

“You have full inventory.”

Finally! He speaks! But lacks sense. “What?”

“Rings.” Shadows answers though that doesn’t answer much. Choosing instead to fall silent once more and continue staring.

Super doesn’t know what to do with any of this so he turns to someone who might. “Tails? Any clues?”

“N-no…” His lil bro trots over to them, visibly disturbed. Good. Glad he’s not the only one confused here.

“I’m burnin’ rings.” Super settles for instead. “Thought you said it was urgent?”

“I thought it was.” Tails gestures at the catatonic state of their friend. “I mean look at him! What was I supposed to say?”

“Well.” Super starts strong only to trail off.

He pivots in the air, still hovering in front them both. Cups his chin with a thoughtful frown. Absently skims the cluttered workshop as he slowly spins in place before re-centering with a shrug. It’s surprisingly hard to keep focus and maintain the super form when there’s no imminent threat. Without anything to go on, he's just wasting power. So. His gaze returns to his battered rival.

“If nothing else I could try this?”

He drifts closer to the still stunned speechless ‘hog. Frowns slightly at the white part of Shadow’s eyes. They’d reddened significantly. Had he blinked once in the past minute or two? Nothing worth worrying over, he supposed. Not if this worked.

Super reaches a hand, still glowing a vibrant gold and soft flames of light emanating off him, and gently braces a palm against the side of Shadow’s face. Shadow doesn’t even move as Super closes his eyes.

Tails shifts beside them. “Try what?”

Super hums. “We’ll see if it works first, buddy.”

The sound vibrates in his chest and makes its way down the arm connecting him to his rival. The rings are burning slower than usual but once he starts this, they start burning like they would in battle.

Super focuses the gem’s energy from their raw state of chaotic power into something he can channel into another person. He smoothes corrosive edges, softens acidic potency, gentles the sheer intensity of it all and funnels them through his own energy. Pours bits of his own chaos mixed with the gem’s through that funnel in his palm. Pushes it from there into Shadow’s own energy.

Shadow doesn’t do anything more than gasp sharply and let him do his thing. Super mentally shrugs, privately delighted by the fact Shadow was letting him touch him at all especially his face, and continues his foray into healing via chaos energy.

The rings are gone even faster than in battle and soon after the last wound has closed and Super’s pulled away, the power keeping him aloft drains completely. The golden glow fades from his quills and they drop back into blue as he returns to the ground, his normal self once again. His grasp on the chaos emeralds slacken and the tension that had been building between the seven finally releases. The gems launch themselves harmlessly out of him like a slingshot and scatter once more.

He bounces a step from the residue energy crackling inside him and beams at his rival. “So now that that’s over with, mind telling us why you came all this way looking like you crawled outta a dumpster caught on fire?”

That of all things has Shadow snapping back to himself. Any awe lingering in his rival’s face vanishes. Fully returns to his normally composed self as he straightens and crosses his arms with a muted huff.

“Merely an experiment. Good day.” Whirls on a heel with shoes revving, dips his head in what might’ve been a polite farewell at his lil bro. “Prower.”

And leaves. He leaves. The cryptic jerk leaves.

Sonic gawks. “Whuh–? What was that?” He spins to face his brother. “Did you see that? Did you see?”

“I saw.”

“Didn’t even say goodbye to me! Me! He was the one who asked me to come all this way! I was next in line for brainiac dogs over in Spagonia, you know. Not as good as chili dogs but it was buy one get one free day! What the heck?”

His younger brother can only shrug helplessly with a puzzled smile, twin tails swishing behind him. “Don’t know, big bro. He did say it was an experiment.”

“Experiment in driving me insane, maybe! Now I’m gonna go crazy trying to figure him out.”

“You mean you weren’t already?”

“Tails!” He grins and hooks an arm around his annoyingly adorable baby bro. “I’ll show you who’s crazy!”

His bro only laughs and swats at the fist digging into his hair. Futilely fighting against the inevitable noogie but he's got him secured by the shoulders. “Have mercy! I’m not the one who spent the past month looking for seven whole emeralds and an entire inventory’s worth of rings.”

“I’ll give ya that!” Sonic cackles and lets him free. “What was up with that anyway?”

Elsewhere, unbeknownst to the brothers, one Shadow the Hedgehog was having a crisis of epic proportions. He had discovered a new, albeit incredibly difficult goal in life: to have Sonic turn Super more often than not because wow did he look alluring with a face of focused intensity framed by golden hues.

#Sonadow #Sonic the Hedgehog #Shadow the Hedgehog #Super Sonic #Fanfic #Sonic

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iraprince · 1 year

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TIME FOR A PROCESS POST let's talk abt getting from this (client sketch - which, btw, i know other artists have talked about this plenty, but i LOOOOOOVE a client sketch as early direction on a commission. LOVE it)

to this!

at first we didn't know if the title was going to go across the desk, or over the central figure (emara's) head against the back wall. so there was a 1st version where we were favoring a higher title, then we started favoring the desk so we scrapped the clutter + centered it more

i used clip studio's 3D models (particularly for the chair, guard, + weapon crates) and perspective rulers to help with laying everything out at this stage, tho i abandoned the 3D pretty early on bc it's a bit too clunky for me. maybe i'll find it quicker to use w more practice!

(the rest under the cut!)

once the basic layout was approved, i threw together a value study to explain how in the final image all the clutter of the bg detail would be unified and pushed back. lately i find myself thinking abt value earlier + earlier in the process; planning ahead saves me a lot of time!

i fiddled with starting to refine things digitally, but then i got A BRAND NEW LIGHTBOX delivered in the mail with perfect timing (lmao) so i just ended up printing off the digital sketch, finalizing in pencil, + scanning back in

then comes five billion different steps of locking in values, again. i did everything greyscale first, but i didn't worry abt getting things super polished at this stage bc i knew color would factor in a lot to later decisions

this is the point at which presenting these wips "step by step" is kind of misleading; i didn't do these stages one at a time, but rather had a BUNCH of different lighting/shading layers that i kept toggling on and off as i worked to make sure everything was coming along well.

(to get some of these caps i actually went into the main file again and turned a bunch of stuff on/off just for the sake of getting specific examples, because actually when i was actively working on it there was rarely a point where i was actually working on something with "all lighting turned off and just the shading on," or anything like that; but i AM interested in showing what effects different lighting/shading changes had on the base colors, even if i wasn't really making these changes in a rigid order.)

i.e., just for the sake of interest, here's how the flat colors look without those adjustments!! but i honestly never looked at it like this on its own for long...i had all the shading/lighting turned off so i could see what i was doing while flatting, but i was constantly checking back and forth.

then tones added on top (which were actually just two copies of the tone folders in the above posts, set to linear burn and overlay) -

which makes it get HORRIFYINGLY dark, but that's when we go in and add a bunch of lighting adjustments.

the most obvious lighting change above is the big burst of hot pink light from the corner, but there was also some masked overlay + burn layers to pop out the guard + emara and make sure they were pulled out from the bg. if this were a standalone illustration, i maybe would have let the bg (and all that painstakingly drawn detail..........) stand out a little more, but a cover functions differently, and i wanted to make sure the eye goes to the title first. that means sacrificing bg detail even if it looks sick lol

then final touches! a lot of my very last touches are things that are close to invisible; gradient maps on very low opacity, noise, a little bit of scribbling on upper layers. the typesetting was all by the client, except for the lettering for "emara king's," which i did myself!

finally, here's a comparison of ⬅where i left off one night close to the deadline thinking "it's probably done, but i'll sleep on it just in case," then all the adjustments i made the next day with fresh eyes.➡ and that's it!!! phew!!! that's how i make a cover!

#my art #process #wip #tutorials #<- not really but. i just figure someone browsing my tutorials tag might be into this #i am so so so so so fucking mad that i didnt think to turn timelapse recording on for this #bc a timelapse wouldve been so fucking sick. but i can at least share this

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non-plutonian-druid · 3 months

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look guys i actually did some spirit designs

[ID: the Hargreeves' spirits in the Paranatural au - or at least, the five of them that are kids in this au.

Luther's is an ape that looks like his body from the comics. Diego's is a creature that looks a bit like a small porcupine. Allison's is a large snake with its mouth duct taped shut. Klaus' is a blue raccoon with three eyes and a pink tail, and Viktor's is based off of the White Violin from the comics, except its head transforms into reaching arms. End ID.]

sorry, the ID got REALLY long this time. that's a summary for anyone scrolling, theres a more detailed one under the cut!

[ID: Luther's spirit is labelled First Simian In Space: THE MARTIAN APE. He looks like the ape that supplied Luther's body in the comics, drawn in the paranatural style; blue, with one eye. He is wearing an astronaut helmet and sitting in a coin operated rocket ship that is much too small for it. He has transformed the world around him into a scifi martian landscape; cardboard standups with doors and lockers scribbled on them are the only indication of the real world. Luther is sprawled on the ground staring in shock, while the Martian Ape says "Y'know, you should totally just kill your dad".

Diego's spirit is a very small creature that looks a bit like a porcupine.

Panel 1: Diego holds his spirit in his hands and says, "So, what's your name?". His spirit responds "I am called..."

Panel 2: A caption appears; Projectile Extraordinaire: KRAKEN. The image is in full color, focusing on Kraken, which glowers cutely and shows off her spines.

Panel 3: The same shot as panel one, except Diego now looks very skeptical. He says "..." and then "Why." Kraken responds "It sounded cool."

Allison's spirit is a giant green snake coiled around a tree branch, with a pattern down his back that looks like open mouths.

The first two images are centered on Allison, who is scowling in both. Someone unseen says "It can force people to do things, honey!" and "It's too dangerous to leave you alone with it." and finally, "So we fixed it."

The final image is of the spirit. He is captioned Muzzled Mind Controller: THE RUMOR. His mouth has been duct taped shut. He does not look pleased.

Klaus' spirit is a blue raccoon with dark purple legs and a fluffy striped pink tail. It also has three eyes.

Panel 1: The large colored closeup of Klaus' spirit. It is captioned Mystical Conartist: THE SEANCE.

Panel 2: Klaus asks it "With a name like that, what's your power?" The Seance, its nose just high enough to fit into frame, replies, "Oh, I can sense ghosts"

Panel 3: Klaus looks supremely unimpressed. In the background, a ghost says "Hi" to Allison and Luther, and they say "Oh, hey" back.

Panel 4: Klaus asks, "Seriously?"

Panel 5: The Seance, viewed from above, says "Hey, I can sense them even when they're not visible! Like behind walls and stuff!"

Panel 6: The Seance adds "Also I can float." It is demonstrating, floating about eye level with Klaus and emitting a cloud of cyan spectral energy as it does so. Klaus looks more pleased with this and says "Okay, that one's pretty good."

Viktor's spirit is a Wight, a spirit so warped by rage and pain that it has permanently been changed, its spectral energy has become white, and has gained massive, devastating power. It looks a lot like the design of the White Violin in the comics, but it manifests too many or too few arms from where its head should be.

There are three images of it. In the first, it is kneeling. It has manifested six arms in varying degrees of completeness, and all of them look sad.

In the second, the matter of its head has split into many small pieces that almost look like parts of mouths, save for two clawing hands. It screams, in the Wight spirit language from Paranatural, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME.

In the third, the largest, its knees buckle as it stands and manifests one reaching hand. It is captioned Violent White: THE WHITE VIOLIN. End ID]

#tua #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #uhhhh...#vanya hargreeves #?#thats definitely not viktor. and its not REALLY vanya either but it IS made to look like her #space boy #the kraken #the rumor #the seance #the white violin #i feel like those are all fair game #some notes in no particular order:#look i did a spirit language from the webcomic! literally the easiest one to make (and read) but still!#its called Wight Wail btw bc Paranatural is mostly puns by weight #omg guys should i do something where delores speaks in Cursed Words?#in order to speak cursed words you have to have killed people but. she deserves it #i accidentally made most of these just An Animal which is super boring of me. so designs might be revisited. but this is where we're at rn!#also after i finished lining almost all of them i wore out my wrist and have been waiting like a week for it to heal enough to draw #i can do most of the heavy lifting of coloring and shading left handed which helped stave off the boredom #but it still hurts and its been a week and i WANT TO BE DONE so i gave up on ever lining klaus' and colored the sketch i had #there was stuff i wanted to fix and change but... well nevermind doing that i guess lol #also hence the typed text instead of handwritten. i would have used the sketch text but that was ACTUALLY illegible #oh yeah also #i discovered on my review of the title cards for the spirits of Paranatural that they have descriptors on top of their names #and paranatural already has a white//wight thing going on with wights having white energy so i was like... lets lean into it.

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ashleyeveerson · 3 months

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CANARIES, NIGHT SHIFT AND THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL (tma/tmagp/arg spoilers)

Along with everyone else in the fandom, I'm also going FERAL after these new ep so excuse this RANT (this is my way of coping with the brain worms, enjoy ;).

Statement begins.

So what's special about the RedCanary story?

Well, apart from it being a direct reference to the original Magnus Institute (at least the one in this new universe), it's also incredibly fascinating as a narrative tool.

For those who are unaware of their history, miners used to employ canaries in cages while they worked as safety systems. The bird's complexion made them specially sensible to gas leaks which killed them instantly. When a canary stoped singing in the middle of the shift, the workers knew that toxic gas was leaking and had enough time to get out of the mines alive before it got to them.

Now why is that relavant to us? Well, the theme of canaries in cages inside mines could be easily applied to the og tma characters. All of them were contained in cages (that is the Magnus Institute) and placed close enough to danger (in their case the paranormal) that only they were aware of its existence while the rest of humanity remained ignorant. That is until the events of the apocalypse when the gas metaphorically leaks everywhere and all humanity is doomed.

However, this proximity to the fears ALWAYS results in the death of the canaries that stayed inside the mines (no i will never get over my blorbos being killed). Everyone involved with the institution dies EXCEPT from Melanie, Georgie and Basira. That is, the only three canaries that actively escaped their cages before the toxic gas got to them.

Therefore, the use of this metaphor at the start of the ep (especially from none other than the voice of Jon Sims, the character who has walked down the path of learning about the entities) is a warning to Sam against investigating the paranormal.

The statement is encountered by Sam because he, above all other characters, is the one who is most likely to end up like Jon and the others. The species of Red Canaries is human breed, therefore Sam being a result of experimentation within The Magnus Institute means he was RAISED to be a canary. Thus, there is an inherent irony on the warning, for it is what PUSHES him to develop an interest on the statements and leads him closer to his tragic destiny.

Another proof that links canaries and the workers at O.I.A.R. is the nature of their habitat. I haven't seen a lot of people talking about it, but there are multiple references in the first and second ep of them working the nightshift. Now, why would a filing job be carried out exclusively at night? (THERE ARE SO MANY REFERENCES TO IT BEING A NIGHTSHIFT I AM NOT KIDDING)

This one is specially interesting because it's the first thing we hear in the podcast. Also Teddy metaphorically being the canary that leaves the mines and the darkness to escape into the outside world and the sun.

Multiple references to it being just the FIRST night of an eternity of nights. (cosmic horror much?)

In any case, there is a parallel between darkness of night and the darkness inside the mines. (or even the entity of the dark, one of the oldest alongside the hunt and the end). I see what you're doing Jonny Sims....

SO YEAH IN CONCLUSION

canaries = characters close to danger (AWARE OF THE ENTITIES)

the miners = the rest of humanity (UNAWARE OF THE ENTITIES)

cages = The Magnus institute/O.I.A.R (TRAPS the canaries)

the fears = toxic gas (HARMS the canaries and miners)

darkness in the mines = the night shift

Statement ends.

*stands in front of a white board with red string linking everything, and the dark scribbled in black marker in the center* I HOPED YOU ENJOYED THIS RANT *tries to fix my disheveled hair that i messed up during the presentation* I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT TMA AND TMAGP Please feel free to discuss in the comments, I NEED THEORIES, I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS WITH SOMEONE!!!

#is it longer than i planned?#yes #it's jonny's sims fault for giving me the brain worms #this hyperfixation's got a bit of a KICK to it ngl #i don't need sleep i need answers #WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN #whenever i rant i need u to imagine me barging into your room with a whiteboard and gesticulating to you violently like an annoying entity #tma #tma spoilers #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #theory #discussion #i am going insane #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol

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stargazer-sims · 2 months

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The Art of Redemption

(part 6)

previous // next // story index

__________

The sky is already light when Nikolai wakes up. He's disoriented and confused, and for one awful moment he doesn't remember where he is. He's used to waking up in the dark during the winter, to the shrieking calls of sea birds on the beach below his house, and to the warmth of another person next to him in bed. He looks around frantically, convinced he's going to be late for something important and that no one had bothered to remind him about it.

As the fog of sleep clears from his brain, he's able to identify his surroundings. This is Beth-Anne's guest room, or perhaps not so much a guest room as a den, or... a home office with a bed in it. On the opposite side of the room from where his ridiculously comfortable bed is, there's a filing cabinet, and a desk with a laptop computer attached to an external monitor. On the wall above the desk are numerous framed pictures, news articles and award plaques. In the center of the arrangement are two gold medals.

Nikolai allows himself to relax. One of those medals is his. He'd given it to Beth-Anne nearly ten years ago, and it makes him happy to see that she has it on display.

He lets his gaze travel around a bit more. His coat is draped over the back of the desk chair, and his two green suitcases are visible just inside the open closet door. Next to the suitcases, he notices his skate bag and a medium-sized cardboard box with something scribbled on the side of it in black marker. On top of the box is a grey teddy bear with a little fake gold medal on a dark green satin ribbon around its neck. He can't see it from this distance without his glasses any more than he can read what's on the box, but he knows the bear has the word 'champion' stitched onto its foot in white embroidery thread.

I don't remember bringing that here.

Beth-Anne must've thought he'd want it, and gathered it up along with his other things without mentioning it. He's had the bear since he was ten years old, since his first competition in the Novice division, and Champion has accompanied him to every single skating competition since then.

Going through security at airports, he always attracted funny looks from security agents and fellow passengers alike for carrying the teddy bear under his arm, but he didn't care. It comforted him to cuddle Champion while hunkering down miserably in the uncomfortable plane seats and trying not to think about his upset stomach and rattled nerves. He hates flying and suffers horribly with airsickness, but he was never allowed to take anything for it on the way to a competition. The last thing he and Beth-Anne would've wanted was for him to have failed a banned substance screening test.

He smiles ruefully. I'll bet I'd fail if they gave me one right now.

He's been at Beth-Anne's house for two days and three nights. It's not that he didn't recognize his own things in the room before, but that he hadn't been alert enough to observe much of anything, or to retain his observations even if he had been. Having been doped up on painkillers and anti-anxiety medication, there are whole chunks of time missing from his perception of the past couple of days. He's pretty sure he didn't leave his bed except to go to the bathroom, and he guesses he'd been sleeping a lot. He has vague memories of Beth-Anne feeding him soup.

He squints at the clock on the small table next to the bed. It's 7:04 a.m. The day isn't as far gone as he'd thought, and for some reason the knowledge fills him with a sense of reassurance.

The next thing he does is take an assessment of his body. He's a little stiff, but that's likely from lying around too long and probably isn't anything that can't be resolved with some good stretches. His knee still hurts, but not nearly as much as before. Under the blankets, he flexes his leg cautiously. Maybe he can forego the stronger pain medication for now and just take a couple of ibuprofen tablets instead.

He sits up in bed and starts his stretching routine. Neck, shoulders and arms he can do in a seated position, but he's going to have to get up to stretch his back muscles. He wonders if his bad knee will support him well enough to do some leg exercises too, or if he'll have to wait for Beth-Anne to help him do the ones the physiotherapist prescribed.

After climbing out of bed and working the tension from his back, he decides to err on the side of caution and skip the leg work until Beth-Anne is available to supervise him. He limps over to the closet and pulls one of his suitcases out. He's eager for a shower and fresh clothes.

In the process of retrieving his suitcase, he's able to get a better look at the box next to it. What he thought was a scribble when he viewed it from across the room actually turns out to be one. He can just make out the word 'DONATE' beneath a frenetic zigzag of black ink. Above it, in Beth-Anne's precise handwriting, is his own name.

Intrigued, he abandons his suitcase and drags the box out instead. It's folded closed at the top, but there's something purple poking out through the little gap where the flaps of the overfilled box don't quite meet. He knows what it is even before he tugs the flaps of the box apart to reveal its contents.

The purple item is the costume he'd worn for his long program at the Four Continents. They'd tried to cut it off his leg at the hospital in Taiwan, and he'd begged them not to. Through the interpreter, he said he didn't care if he had to sit around in nothing but his underpants and a hospital gown. He wanted to take the costume off himself, intact. They'd allowed him to do that in the end, and he was appreciative of the small kindness.

Under the purple costume is the glittery black and red one he'd worn for his short program. He frowns. Why would his costumes be in a carton that had originally been marked for donation? For that matter, why would his two most recent costumes be in a cardboard box at all? He hasn't kept every skating costume he's ever worn, but he does have a lot of them, and they're all hanging neatly in a wardrobe cupboard in his basement, protected by garment bags and labelled by year.

Perhaps more importantly, he amends, what are my costumes doing in a box here at Beth-Anne's house?

He can guess, but he really doesn't want to go there. Not right now. He's not prepared to wrap his head around the notion of someone he loves being intentionally cruel to him.

But, Anya had already done something mean to him. She'd taken his medals off the wall in their dining room, pulling them all down while he watched helplessly. That had hurt, but he'd somehow convinced himself it wasn't so bad. He could return them to their display frame later. Anya said she'd put them away. When he felt able to restore them to their proper place, he could always ask her where she'd put them, unless...

Nikolai shakes his head.

No.

Anya wouldn't give away his medals. She has a few medals of her own. She knows how important they are. He prefers a less dramatic explanation, like maybe the box was something Beth-Anne had lying around in her garage and she just grabbed it to transport some of his things in. That hypothetical version of events is much easier to accept.

He wants to discover what else is in the box, but an alarmingly loud growl from his stomach reminds him that he has priorities. He probably hasn't eaten a proper meal in two days, and his skin feels sticky and gross. Shower, and then breakfast. Later, when he's got nothing else to do, he can come back to the box.

The hot shower revives him, and he feels almost normal by the time he hobbles into the kitchen on his crutches about fifteen minutes later.

Beth-Anne is standing at the counter next to the sink. Her back is to him, but she turns when he says her name. She's dressed in form-fitting black athletic pants and a red zip-front fleece top, and her curly honey-coloured hair is caught into a messy little bun. She isn't wearing makeup, and the scars on her face are clearly visible on her pale, freckled skin.

She's going to the rink, Nikolai realizes. Oddly, he doesn't know how he feels about that. Of course she should be going to the rink. She's a skating coach, and her job is at the rink. Her students need her. But, she'd stayed home with him for the past two days, and he'd liked that. He's not certain he's ready to be left alone yet.

Beth-Anne offers him a smile. "How are you feeling, sweetheart? You look better."

"I feel a little better," he says. "What's for breakfast? I'm starving."

She laughs. "Yeah, that's definite proof you're on the mend. How about a ham and cheese omelette? That's what I'm making for myself, and it's easy enough to make two. There's oranges and grapefruit in the fridge, and I bought extra milk. Oh, and there's coffee. Help yourself."

He takes an orange from the fridge and pours himself a cup of coffee. While Beth-Anne cooks, he sits at the table and methodically peels and sections his orange. They're both quiet for a while, but finally he ventures, "Are you... are you going to work today?"

"Yes," she tells him. "Mariah and Brett have been skating by themselves for three days now. Stan said he’d keep an eye on them, but that’s not his responsibility. Plus, you know Brett has Junior Worlds coming up in a few weeks. He needs me to be just as committed to that as he is.”

“Oh,” Nikolaï says. "That's right."

He hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. Suddenly embarrassed, he lowers his head and gazes dismally at his half-eaten orange.

He’s not jealous of Brett exactly, but he does envy the fourteen year old for the chance to compete in a world championship. Nikolai will never do that again. He'll never get to feel the flutter of nervous anticipation in the seconds before he steps onto the ice, or the focus and calm confidence that replaces it when his music begins. He'll never again experience the joy of performing a beautiful and complicated step sequence or the exhilaration of landing a perfect jump. People cheering for him and throwing bouquets onto the ice, Beth-Anne hugging him in the kiss-and-cry and drying his tears with her ubiquitous old-fashioned handkerchiefs while they wait for his scores, the national anthem playing during medal presentations... all of that is over for him now.

One might argue he's had his moment of glory — several, in fact — and that's something to be grateful for. He is grateful for his success, but that does nothing to ease the dull, empty ache in his chest when he imagines what might've been. The truth is, he wasn't ready to leave the sport, isn't ready despite the reality of it. He's only twenty-seven. If it weren't for this devastating injury, he might've had two or three good seasons left before he made his own decision to retire. Maybe he would've even won another medal at Worlds this year. He'd certainly been on track to qualify for the world championship.

But now the only one of Beth-Anne's students who'll be going to a world championship event is Brett Eriksson. He'll be the one getting all the praise and accolades and Beth-Anne's undivided attention, and Nikolai will be doing what? Sitting at home in a pool of his own self-pitying tears?

Nikolai Pavlenko, be a man. You will not cry over this any more, he orders himself fiercely, but the demand has little effect. His throat already feels like it's starting to close, and there's an unwelcome prickling behind his eyes that warns of impending tears.

Beth-Anne shuts off the stove and turns toward the table with a plate in each hand. Nikolai hadn't even noticed that she was done cooking their omelettes, and his face burns with a new wave of embarrassment.

She takes one look at him, hurries forward and quickly sets the plates down. A second or two later, her hand is on his cheek, as if she's checking to see if the flush of colour that he knows must be there might be from a fever.

He raises his eyes to meet hers, and all he sees in her expression is love and concern for him. Brett may need her undivided attention, but she loves him. She put her regularly-scheduled life on hold for the past handful of days for him, lost sleep for him, allowed Brett to skate alone. For him.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"No," he manages to get the words past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. I... I'm being selfish."

"You're being human," she says. Her hand moves up to brush back his unruly hair. She can't possibly know what he'd been thinking, but it almost seems like she can read his mind because she continues with, "This isn't going to be an easy adjustment for you. I get that. It's going to be scary and confusing, and if you're angry or sad or envious of the others or... whatever, it's totally okay. I promise."

"How do you...?" he begins, but doesn't finish the question.

"How do I know?"

"Yeah."

"Did you think I retired voluntarily from competing?" she asks.

"Didn't you? You never told me it wasn't voluntary, so I assumed it was. But... it wasn't?"

"No, it wasn't," she says. "If you want to know what happened, I'll tell you, but not right this minute. Right now, you need to eat your breakfast. We have things to do today, and you need the protein.”

She steps away from him and settles into the chair across the table from his. He's sufficiently distracted by the revelation that she hadn't given up competing by choice that his other emotions temporarily fade to the back of his consciousness.

"I do want to know," he says. "And what do you mean, we have things to do? What do I have to do?"

"Eat your breakfast and then put on some warm clothes," says Beth-Anne, apparently unbothered about talking with her mouth full. "You're going to the rink."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not going to have you sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself all day long. You're allowed to feel like that, but not all day, every day. That's dangerous, and I'll be damned if I let you put yourself in harm's way when there's something we can do about it."

He's so relieved, he doesn't even think before blurting out the first thing that pops into his head. "So, I don't have to be alone? I can be with you all day?"

"If you're feeling up to going out, yes."

"Yes," he says. "But, what am I going to do there? Should I bring a book?"

Beth-Anne looks amused. "I guess you can if you want, but I had something a little more constructive in mind."

"Like what?"

"Like being my assistant," she says. "I'd like you to observe the students while I'm working with them, especially Brett and little Eden. You'll be able to spot things I might not see, things they're doing really well or things they need to work on. Watch me, too. See how I interact with them."

"I already know how you interact with students," he says.

"You know how I interact with you," she corrects. "Observing from the outside, seeing how I interact with other students will give you a different perspective. More of a coach's-eye view, you might say."

"A...what?" He has to admit this idea has literally never occurred to him, but to be fair, up until a month ago he hadn't given much thought at all to his life beyond his career as a professional athlete. He's always known he'd have to stop competing eventually, but he also assumed he'd have more time to figure out his future plans. "You think I could be a coach?"

"No idea," says Beth-Anne around another mouthful of eggs. "You might be absolutely fucking terrible at it, although somehow I doubt that, but we're not going to know one way or the other if we don't give it a try, are we?"

"You're serious."

"When have you ever known me to not be serious?"

"I don't know if I want to be a coach," he confesses. "I don't know what I want, really."

"That's okay," she says. "Ultimately, whatever you do will be your choice. But in the meantime, this'll at least give you something to do and keep your mind off..." She pauses awkwardly before concluding. "Stuff."

It's difficult to argue with her reasoning. She isn't wrong about it being dangerous for him to dwell on all his negative thoughts and feelings. After all, look what that had earned him; the final breath of his already dying marriage, contemplation of suicide, a tearful phone call in the middle of the night, an urgent trip to the hospital, and a massive dose of prescription drugs he'd probably needed but didn't want.

The night he phoned Beth-Anne and begged her to help him, he'd never been so terrified and desperate in his life. He was afraid to be alone because he didn't trust himself not to do something irredeemable.

His mental state has improved since then, but he's still scared. Being with someone feels much safer to him than being left by himself, and being with Beth-Anne feels safest of all. She always takes care of him, and he trusts her more than anyone else.

He thinks she's also right that having something to do will keep him from ruminating on stuff, as she put it. He and Beth-Anne both know what she meant by that. She didn't need to elaborate, and he's thankful to her for leaving it at a generalization.

But... coaching?

He has no clue how the other students might take to him becoming a coach. The younger ones who don't know him might not have any issues with it, but he doubts Brett and Mariah would be thrilled by the prospect. And what about Ginger, Hunter, Juliet and Christian? How would his friends feel about it? Would it be weird for them to see their fellow student become a coach? And what if he actually does turn out to be terrible at it? What then?

Beth-Anne's voice breaks into his thoughts. "Nikolai."

He stares at her, but doesn't reply because he realizes he has a piece of orange in his mouth. Inexplicably, his heartbeat begins to race and his hands tremble uncontrollably. He feels sweat break out on his palms and down the middle of his back.

Why am I panicking? Why am I panicking!? Calm down!

His self-admonition only makes it worse, and the orange section seems to grow huge and suffocating. He wants to spit it out, but his mental image of himself spitting out food in front of Beth-Anne is mortifying to him.

"Nikolai," Beth-Anne says gently. "Chew and swallow."

Her voice anchors him. He does as she instructs, and then mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're fine," she assures him. "If you don't want to go to the rink, you don't have to. I can drop you off to spend the day with your grandfather instead, or wherever you want."

"No, I... I want to go to the rink. I'm just... I don't know. Anxious."

"You can take the medication the doctor gave you," she reminds him.

"No," he repeats. "I need to get over this. Get back to normal. Going to the rink is a good idea. Even if I don't stay all day, I think I need to get out of the house and do something before just leaving the house starts to seem like it's too hard."

Beth-Anne nods. "Good. That's the attitude I like. Come with me for the morning, and we'll see how you get along, okay? If you're feeling overwhelmed or like you don't want to stay for whatever reason, I'll bring you home. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," he agrees.

"I'll keep checking on you," she says.

It's his turn to nod. "I'll do my best to keep it together."

"I know you will, but I don't want you to push yourself any further than you can reasonably handle, all right? The point of this is to rebuild you, not to break you even more, so if you feel like you can't do it, you need to tell me straight away. Understand?"

'I understand."

"Excellent. Now, eat up so we'll have enough time to get ready. Our first thing is a group class at nine o'clock, and we wouldn't want to be late for those adorable preschoolers, would we?"

"You...? Preschoolers? You want me to observe preschoolers?"

"Best way to start the day," says Beth-Anne. "Watching a bunch of cute four year olds wobble around for half an hour is an amazing stress reliever. We can watch Ginger and Stan do their thing after that, and then Brett's ice time is at eleven. That'll be your real assignment. You know, 'your mission, should you choose to accept it' and all that."

"Okay," Nikolai says, doing his best to sound more sure of himself than he feels. "Mission accepted."

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #nikolai pavlenko #beth-anne jones #tw sucide mention #stargazersims

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crushedgraham · 6 months

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Fic where Widowmaker’s girlfriend secretly learns a love song in French for her because she’s shy and bad at expressing her feelings 🫶?

Suns and Stars

FICS ARE COMINGGG ive been busy with projects and tests BUT IM GONNA LOCK IN FOR KINKTOBER REQUESTS but enjoy this fluff :)

It's been 6 months. 6 damn months in you and Amélie's relationship and you still hadn't said the three big words: I love you. You've tried. But every time you get even remotely close, the words die on your tongue. God, you can't even kiss her without your body temperature skyrocketing - so how the hell were you supposed to express how much you loved her?

Everyday at exactly 8 AM, Amélie does her morning stretches, yoga and cardio sessions. You've been using this to your advantage - sneaking out of bed a few minutes after her to practice your French in an abandoned music room on the far side of the castle, then slipping back in before she comes back to take a shower. This morning followed the routine.

Soft padding from your fluffy slippers shuffling against the tile floor echoes against the stone walls, the sounds barely registering in your groggy mind. Your eye lids still felt heavy from sleep - a soft huff of a yawn escaping from your lips. The room is spacious yet empty, forgotten pieces of furniture scattered amongst the dust but a grand piano remaining in the middle. Faintly you can just barely make out on the body of the piano, a neatly carved heart with the cheesy "A+G" initials in the center - a testament of the history now long gone.

The squeak from the rusty hinges of the fallboard causes you to cringe while lowering yourself to the cold leather bench. From your pocket, you unfold the sheet music to "Je l'aime à mourir", small notes and lines scribbled across the paper. By now you know the song by heart but every time you hear even the slightest noise you lose concentration and forget the notes.

In a practiced motion, your fingers draw towards the correct keys. Time seems to stop with everything in your mind fading with it except for one name: Amélie.

The lyrics begin as a soft hum, gradually increasing with the piano in crescendo. Melodies flutter throughout the room, carrying the harmonies deep into the rest of the castle - unbeknownst to you.

A pair of golden eyes stare at the back of your head, a far off look present in the irises. The overwhelming rush of emotions is almost painful, her heart defying the countless hours spent to repress any and all traces of soul left in the shell of the French woman. Distantly Amélie can feel the mourning, the grief, the utter anguish squeezing at her heart. Memories of her past life - the life that she could never have - glimmers like twinkling stars; Thousands of miles away yet shining ever so brightly.

But bittersweetly, the only happy ending she can envision is a life with you. Gerard may have been her stars but you are her sun. The warmth and light of her life - the very reason for her existence.

"Je l'aime à mourir" (I love her to death)

The French rolls off your tongue perfectly and raw, unadulterated love floods through her veins. Amélie believes that no experiment or torture can take this feeling away.

As the final note fades out, you nearly jump out of your skin as cool air brushes against your ear.

"You play beautifully Chérie, such a talented girl," Amélie's voice lacks the usual teasing undertone, sounding unusually vulnerable. You move to turn your body but her strength outmatches yours. Her forehead rests against your shoulder, a worrying dampness sinking into the fabric down to your skin. Instinctively your hands reach behind you to stroke her purple tresses, a small attempt at comforting your lover.

"Do you mean it?" Amélie's voice is hushed and muffled against your body, quivering ever so slightly.

The question makes you hesitate but not because of your love for her. No, you knew with every atom in your body that you loved Amélie - but saying it out loud had your body tensing. Though your silence sends the wrong message. Amélie begins pulling away from you, off put and disappointed by the lack of a response.

"Je t'aime! I- I love you so much." The words stumble out clumsily in one breath - desperately trying to make up for your silence.

Amélie pauses and you swing your legs over the bench to face her. She leans closer, her eyebrows pushed together - traces of fear and vulnerability lingering in her orbs.

"Truly?" Right now, she was just Amélie, not Widowmaker, not the emotionless assassin - right now she's just your Amélie.

"Yes! God - I'm so stupid. I should've told you sooner but I just couldn't get it out! I...I really do love you though, Amé"

In a flash, her lips surge to capture yours. The force slams your back into the keys creating an ugly shrill, piercing sound, akin to a noise in a horror movie. But you pay no attention to it, hell, you don't even notice it when Amélie's lips are devouring yours. The kiss is bruising and your chest burns from the lack of air but it didn't matter, no only Amélie mattered right now.

Sharp, black nails dig into your soft robe, pulling your body impossibly closer. Her lips trail up to your ear, a fanged canine catching the lobe as she whispers:

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that Mon Amour, je t'aime aussi"

Je l'aime à mourir - I love her to death

Chérie - Darling

Mon Amour - My love

Je t'aime - I love you

Je t'aime aussi - I love you too

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #widowmaker x reader #widowmaker #widowmaker ow #overwatch 2 #amelie lacroix #amelie lacroix x reader

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blocksmithkyra · 7 months

Text

Decked Out 2 phase 1 doodles

[Description under cut]

A series of drawings sketched in pencil, depicting characters with large, round heads & cartoon proportions.

Top Middle - Etho in full armor with elytra. Small, laughing heads float above him. One depicts Tango; the other is a feminine version, intended to depict Mrs. Tango. Speech bubbles with scribbles in them are around the heads.

Top Left - Tango dead on top of a berry bush.

Below Top Middle- Doc stuck in the Ember Hole.

Top Right - Pearl & Gem. Gem looks smug & Pearl has a slight blush. Above Gem is a thought bubble with Pearl in it, this time wearing a cheerleader outfit.

Below Top Right - Zedaph in a snow hole, looking out with a spyglass.

Left of Below Top Right - Tango as a fairy, holding the Want of Gorgeousness.

Center - Impulse throwing a compass into the air.

Left of Center - Etho running into a hazard door.

Below Left of Center - IRL Tango screaming in question. Next to him, mostly cut off from view, is Mrs. Tango talking about an Ice shard.

Below Center - The Pick of Shame, worn on both ends.

Right of Center - Rendog drowning between Magma & a sheet of ice

Bottom - Six heads poking out from behind podiums made of note blocks above emerald blocks, except for the far right podium which is wood instead of emerald. From left-to-right the heads depict Hypno, Cub, Gem, Scar, Grian, & Etho. On either side of Scar's podium are wheels, resting on a raised platform to make his head height even with the others'.

#decked out 2 #hermitcraft #my art #traditional art #mcyt

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lgcken · 4 months

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ㅤ۪ ୨୧ ☆ㅤ۫ㅤㅤ۪ — 建太郎 2005 sagittarius ᴇɴᴛᴊ-ᴛ japanese

hi again, i’m bo ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ and introduce to you okamoto kentaro! kentaro has a profile to check out, more scribbles about him below, pinboard, bts content on twt @_baebo! & lets chat on discord.

kentaro tends to keep a serious look on his face (even around friends).

he was captain of the swimming and volleyball team in high school. v leaderly.

he's a grouch in the morning. no exceptions.

his favorite type of music includes selection of alt, indie, garage, club tracks/artists.

his side of the dorms is littered with misc posters of bands/concerts, games, paintings, his medals, nailed stuffed animals, drumsticks, drawings, anything he can find and likes, really. messy as hell, too.

has a slight accent, struggles with korean mispronunciation at times.

not much of a talker, but an excellent listener.

he's cocky af once your muse gets to know him.

music is life.

he carries a book around so he can put it over his face to nap.

joining a local dance crew was the prelude to his interest in becoming an idol. he doesn't have classical training since he's mostly self-taught.

alt fashion boy; wears the same outfit a lot.

he drinks a lot of loose-leaf tea.

if he doesn't do his morning run routine, he becomes grouchier.

one year in, his impatient streak is back and he's ready for an official project.

✆ wishlist!

childhood friend for any born and/or raised in tokyo! would be totally insane to find someone from his district, but this is such a needed plot.

you caught him sleeping at a company lounge, common area, or local cafe one too many times so now his nickname is 'sleepy'.

any gaming center first-time or frequent goers? anyone? pls

lets go to an underground rave. or an abandoned warehouse concert, pick your poison. disclaimer: they'll ofc be present for curfew. maybe…

#建太郎 / ooc #pls treat my 2nd kid well 🫶

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tqngerine · 1 year

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stay in the middle — 40. still life

SYNOPSIS: Huening Kai would do anything for his best friend Taehyun, and this one small favor is no exception. It appears that Kai’s fellow campus journalist Y/N has caught his attention, and Taehyun needs help connecting to them. Befriending someone outside of his small social circle wasn’t something Kai did often, but he comes to find that it’s easy to get close to Y/N—maybe even getting a little too close.

word count: 1.1k

“Oh, thank god it’s still here.” Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, clutching onto their beloved translucent pink pouch. What a relief it was to see it and its alternating My Melody and flower pattern again.

Taehyun simply sat behind the table while his big eyes followed Y/N’s every movement, his own notebook and pens now laying untouched beneath him. In true cat fashion, Y/N thought to themself.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost all those pens inside.” Y/N continued rambling. “They’re practically my lifeline!”

“Haha, yeah. Losing something so precious to you is really not cool.” Taehyun managed to chuckle.

“Have you lost anything precious to you, Taehyun?” Y/N asked simply, adjusting themself onto the seat across the physics major.

“Oh! Yeah, I have. Quite recently too. It was this red and gray striped headband Yeonjun hyung gifted me before he left the volleyball varsity. I used to wear it everyday to training until I carelessly left it behind court one night and never saw it again the next.”

“Wait, did it have your team’s emblem embroidered on the center?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Wait one sec.” Y/N snaked an arm inside their backpack and fished out the piece of cloth they had kept in there for about a month now. It accurately fit Taehyun’s description, and judging by the way his jaw dropped…

“That’s the one!”

Y/N happily handed it across the table. “I found this laying on the court during one of my practices with my acting partner—“

“Jay?”

“Ah, yeah. You know him?”

“Hyuka mentioned you have a crush on him,”

Y/N cleared their throat. “Anyway, I knew I was gonna be reporting on the volleyball team soon so I held onto it and meant to ask around during my visit, but it completely slipped my mind then.” Scratching the back of their neck, they gave a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m returning this too late.”

“No! Not at all! Thank you for returning this back to me, I really—“ Taehyun must have realized that he had practically jumped off his seat eagerly, stopping to wince in embarrassment. He lowered himself back on his seat, face struck red.

Y/N gave him a chuckle, hoping that was enough to let him know that he had no reason to be ashamed. They personally couldn’t judge him one bit; they’ve had their own bursts of excitement and assumed Taehyun was the type to convey his own outwardly like them. Just another ball of pure energy like his taller best friend. If anything, it was nice to be able to read his emotions beyond just his expressive eyes.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, however, Taehyun had actually planned to safe keep their pencil case and return it to them the next time they met. You know, in an act of heroic deed. But Y/N coming back and deciding to study worked in Taehyun’s favor too.

Or at least it should have. The guy struggled to focus on his own studying now that they were sitting in front of him. Just the two of them with no Kai or Yeonjun hyung or even one of Y/N’s friends in their company.

He didn’t mean to stare like an absentminded fool while they were engrossed between scribbling down their notebook and typing on their laptop since they made him feel like, well, just that: an absentminded fool. He did make an effort to finish reading his module, especially when Y/N would look up for five minutes to take a screen break. In these breaks, they’d simply cross their arms and lean back, sometimes taking sips of their mocha latte. It seemed like only their hands were put at rest, their mind still occupied with activity.

“You’re a lot more quiet than I thought you’d be.” Taehyun suddenly spoke, shaking Y/N from their trance in magazine-ridden thoughts.

“Well, we are in the library.” They joked.

“I-I mean, I don’t know, even in our previous hang-outs. You’re not as talkative or bubbly as the stereotypical theater kid, I guess? Beomgyu seems to fit that image more.” Taehyun said, playfully twirling the headband in his hands. “I don’t intend it to be an insult, by the way! I just—I remember your role in the theater club’s last production and… okay I’m realizing how stupid this sounds now, but I somewhat assumed you were just as loud as your character then.”

Ah, last semester’s production of Legally Blonde. Even though Jay had easily snagged the role of Emmett Richmond, there was no way Y/N could imagine themself in Elle Woods’ pink heels so they settled for one of her best friends in the Greek Chorus instead. Even that role pushed them way out of their comfort zone. That being said, it was a relief to hear their portrayal was believable enough that someone thought they were just as fabulous and self-confident off-stage.

“There was also that one time you coincidentally caught my off-shot volleyball during one of my practices. That just seemed really badass at the moment, not gonna lie.”

Now Y/N did not expect to hear that. “I… don’t remember that. Wow, we’ve already met before?”

Taehyun’s cheeks blushed furiously. “Er, I guess? But, like, it’s such a random minor moment, I don’t expect you to remember it. Hell, I don’t even know why I still remember it.”

“Is that why you were sweating buckets the first time we talked? Because you thought I was an intimidating and extravagant thespian?” Y/N chuckled. “Wow, I assumed it was either you weren’t used to interviews or that Hyuka had been talking shit about me to you.”

“Oh, I have no issues with interviews,” (he’s a brainy kid, go figure) “and Kai would never do that behind your back. So yeah, that was quite the case.”

“Well, your image has to have shattered since we had that in-depth discussion about different types of penguins at the food hall.” Y/N laughed, recalling the event from a few days ago. “I never even considered that there were that much! How do you know about these things?”

“I just, you know, read a lot,”

“Nerd.”

“Hey!” Taehyun crossed his arms, but the smile he was fighting against told Y/N he was lightheartedly playing along. “You said you needed help researching on astrophysics for your next literature coverage, but if you’re gonna make fun of my brain…”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry, Taehyun, my poor kitty cat! Please don’t leave me to dust!”

Taehyun lost it and burst into purr-like giggles. Y/N couldn’t help but feel relief that he’d easen up to their presence despite his preconceived notions on them. That one lunch spent with him and their friends told them enough that he gelled with their group as easily as a glitter sticker on their notebook (his eyes sparkling like such too). From what they’ve heard even prior, Taehyun had been nothing but loyal to Kai for many years.

It would be pleasant to have a friend like him stick around Y/N’s life too.

< prev | masterlist | next >

A/N: i hope you guys know the exact Taehyun sound I’m referring to when i write “purr-like giggles” thx. so that’s y/n’s life these days! kind of hectic balancing two clubs, a magazine internship, and a social life, huh 😮‍💨 i fear to say that we’re back to regularly programmed schedule this week, so i’ll be seeing you again this wednesday, but man i’ve just really been dying to move the plot forward ! hope you enjoyed still ^^

TAGLIST: open!! leave a comment below or send me an ask to be included in this taglist ^^

@kaisdefender @fairysh4mpoo @0rangemilk @beomsbeanie @hanjisungsgirl @luvsoobs @goldennika @spagettae @solarsolarity @hy2ka-i @aestheticsluut @sophie-writingtime @quitbeingawhore @destinylightlove42 @softpia @strawberry-kirby @matcharetsuko @txtbrainrot @taekwondoes @tatanbin @uno7 @catsyoon @fzy-b3om @concatpng @wezbin @dczedhee @officiallyjaehyuns @wannabeyn @youbettertellmeyes @umbreonwolfy @yumilovesloona @softcabur @tsookies @amazingly-amazing-loser @junhuicosmo @planethyuka @minhoino

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unspuncreature · 11 months

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a few weeks ago i was briefly possessed by the spirit of writing and spat out a mishmash of concept and ficlet at @renlyslittlerose, who took it all in stride and even encouraged me to post it!

i wanted to wait until i had the bandwidth to polish it, but with my limited time and energy these days, who knows when that will be.

instead, below the cut, i’ve copied the exact original messages i sent with absolutely zero editing. i hope you enjoy my candor and typos.

here’s the obikin bath & body works au ✨🫧🧴🧼

i feel like i’ve talked my way around a bath & body works-adjacent AU without ever actually talking about it but you know what?? today is the day

anakin is a retail associate at a soaps+lotions store and obi-wan comes in looking so handsome and frazzled and confused and anakin is like. oh boy one of these. ok sir who are you buying a gift for 🙄

except he can’t get all the words about because once he’s close enough to greet the man with his normal spiel. he realizes. this is the most amazing smelling man he’s every encountered in his LIFE

so he fumbles through helping obi-wan pick out a gift basket’s worth of assorted but complementary lotions and body scrubs in a daze. hoping and praying to the powers that be that he did not just help this man build the perfect gift basket for his girlfriend or, heaven forbid, his wife. and as anakin walks him all the way to the checkout counter (usually he just points customers in that direction but anakin is LATCHED onto this man), obi-wan turns to him and squints at his name tag and says “you’ve done a lovely job, anakin. i think with your help i’ll be spared my sister’s disappointment.” and anakin’s heart SOARS while his dick threatens to publicly embarrass him because he has never heard his own name sound like THAT coming out of anyone’s mouth ever

he’s almost forward enough to ask the man’s name or even give his phone number, but balks and ends up giving him a discount card for buy one get one half off any purchase of 2 or more body care products. except the expiration date is scratched out and scribbled over hastily in anakin’s handwriting, written to now expire instead at the end of the week

obi-wan blinks but pockets it with a charming smile and thanks anakin AGAIN and anakin thinks he might just pass out at this point

the rest of the shift passes in a haze, anakin makes it home and kicks himself the entire night, barely able to sleep. he barely pays any attention in his classes the next morning, worried that even if obi-wan does return, he has no idea when anakin works and they could very possibly miss each other entirely. that is, if obi-wan even comes back

his coworkers ask him what’s wrong when he clocks in the next day, and anakin grumbles and does his best to put on something akin to a serviceably customer-friendly mask. he drags like a zombie as he resets the seasonal display in the center of the store, snapping into lucidity every time the door chimes and a customer walks in, none of them his warm and spicy, flustered and handsome nameless crush

defeated and debating whether or not to feign illness so he can just go home and languish in bed, anakin hangs up his apron and goes to clock out for his break when he hears another customer enter. he doesn’t turn around, unable to stand any further self induced disappointment. one of his coworkers covering for him on his break greets them. and anakin’s stomach drops

“i made a purchase yesterday actually and was hoping to speak to the associate who assisted me. does… is anakin working today, by chance?”

“oh… i’m so sorry, he’s on break right now, but i’d be more than happy to—“

anakin doesn’t care that he must have bruised his hip on the checkout counter with how quickly he throws his apron back on and whips around to barrel through the store at lightning speed. he can’t even be bothered to bite back the stupid smile on his face.

with all the grace and propriety of any man on a mission of true love, anakin slips in beside his coworker and pipes up over her, locking gazes with the man and relishing the way his eyes widen, then soften and crinkle with warm recognition.

“i’ve got it from here, it’s really not a problem.”

anakin doesn’t even turn to see which of his coworkers he’s just so rudely dismissed. they must leave without fuss though, because then it’s just the two of them, staring at each other over a carefully stacked pyramid of passion fruit and peony hand lotion.

“short break, then? i’d hate to be the reason you forgo your lunch.”

“i’m alright. i’m, uh. i’m not hungry.”

the man smiles knowingly and cocks his head to the side, a lock of hair falling in his face as his eyes crinkle once again, just the faintest hint of age.

anakin thinks he might die. he smells even better than he remembers. it’s like nothing he’s ever smelled before. certainly nothing they sell here, at least. it can’t be cologne, right? jeez. maybe this is how all those ridiculous hallmark movie leads feel when they lock eyes with their favorite generic brown-haired man of the hour. anakin wants to fall into this man’s thick, sweater-clad arms. he wants to wedge his face in the crook of his neck and nuzzle his beard that looks oh-so-soft and inhale him. he wants to get down on one knee and ask if he—

“… can get your help with something?”

oh. right. anakin desperately hopes the flush he can feel crawling hot up his neck isn’t as visible as it feels.

“y-yeah, of course. sorry. what can i do for you?”

tl;dr because i promised myself i’d start my day at 9:50 and it’s now 9:56 BUT

obi-wan coyly asks anakin to help him find products for *himself* and anakin is like. um no offense but are you insane. you smell amazing already. and obi-wan is like 👀 and anakin is like NOT that i was smelling you because i WASNT hahahh that would be SO weird i just. there was a strong breeze. and. man that cologne you’re wearing sure is strong. plus i have a sensitive nose yknow. for example, i can smell that uhhh…… and obi-wan is like. i’m… not wearing any cologne. and anakin is like 😵‍💫

anakin helps him make his purchase just as dazed as he was yesterday. rings him up himself to make sure he gets his special anakin only discount. and then he finally gets obi-wan’s name.

obi-wan asks if he’s free after work. anakin says yes and also he’s free every afternoon for the rest of his life. in case something comes up and obi-wan needs a rain check. or something. obi-wan laughs and says today is just fine.

obi-wan picks him up and they go home and put obi-wan’s brand new body oil to excellent use 😌 the end

#we built off of this a little more so if i ever polish this in the future i may include those extras #with lemon’s permission of course lol #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #obikin #obikin fic #bath & body works au #scout.txt

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ralith · 1 year

Text

Canvas

Ghost/Soap fic

Rated M for suggestive themes. Fluff, Body and scar worship. Edible body paint.

Soap has run out of journal space so Ghost gifts him his body to use as a canvas. He wants to see in himself the beauty that Soap envisions with each of his sketches.

Can also be found posted to my AO3.

“I hadn’t taken you for much of a reader,” Ghost had commented on the first day he moved in with Soap, bringing with him only a few boxes of personal belongings. Soap’s house off base was slightly smaller than his own had been, but it was so much brighter and warmer. More lived in. In the corner of Soap’s, no, their bedroom, was an overfilled bookshelf.

“They’re journals, not books. Well, there’re enough stories there to fill novels, but it’s mainly doodling. Little snippets of what’s on my mind at the time.”

Ghost was aware Soap enjoyed drawing on the nearest available paper, stealing napkins from his mates at the bar or scribbling in the margins of official paperwork much to Price’s irritation. But he had no idea it was to such an extent as to fill bookshelves.

“You’re free to look through them whenever. If you’d like.” Ghost had caught the slight blush on Soap’s cheeks. He was taken back at how easily Soap trusted him. First letting him into his life, his home, and now the inner workings of his mind. Ghost hadn’t allowed Johnny to so much as see him unclothed from the mask down, still uneasy at undressing in front of the sergeant, instead slipping away to the bathroom.

A nod was all Ghost could muster, and Soap smiled at him. “Not to brag, but I’m a pretty good artist.”

He was an exceptional artist as Ghost would learn. He had found himself spending hours flipping through those journals, admiring the sweeping lines and attention to detail. The journals looked like they went back to Soap’s basic training days through to the present. The newer journals were all about the 141, sketches of Price and Gaz, their latest missions, trips to the local bar which turned into late night karaoke sessions with Gaz belting out tunes to a riveted audience.

Then, Ghost noticed he quickly became the center of attention in the most recent collections. Side profiles, headshots, the mask, the mask, the mask…Soap was obsessed for a while there until just after the ordeal in Las Almas. And then his face was everywhere.

With a finger, Ghost had traced these images of himself. He marveled at how Soap had made him look so soft. In the mirror, all Ghost saw of himself was sharp edges and severe angles. He saw no gentleness in his scarred form. But Soap clearly saw him otherwise.

Soap had a preference of what kind of journal he used. These weren’t bargain bin notepads. Each journal Soap had bought while on leave, visiting a small artisan shop in town where each leatherbound journal was handmade. He would usually buy enough to hold him over until his next leave, whenever he estimated that may be.

But due to a scheduling error, Soap’s latest leave had been pushed back to an indeterminate time and his last journal was full. And it was frustrating the hell out of him. Soap was desperate for a relief to the mounting thoughts in his head. Bar and restaurant napkins were far from a sufficient replacement. Ghost didn’t want to see his Johnny in such a state.

So, he had set out to plan a mission. One that would benefit Soap’s creative output and where Ghost would force himself to be more open. The idea left him a bit shaky, but he wanted to do this. For them both.

Soap was freshly showered when he walked into the bedroom wearing only sweatpants. Ghost looked up from where he sat on their bed, eyes momentarily fixated on how the sweatpants clung to damp skin in all the right places.

“Like what you see?” Soap chuckled, the lieutenant’s gaze all too obvious. He bent down and nuzzled his cheek to Ghost’s in greeting. His skin was still warm and the stubble catching on Ghost’s mask created delicious friction between them.

“Always,” Ghost murmured. Soap placed a chaste kiss to his temple and sat across from him on the bed.

“What’ve you got there?” The sergeant nodded at a box that rested casually in Ghost’s lap.

Ghost contemplated the box. He had no idea how Soap would react. Would he think it’s stupid? Have a good laugh with Gaz later, telling him how ridiculous Simon Riley was to think of something like this? But Ghost was a man who followed through with each mission. He had planned this and would see it through to the end. He was a good soldier. And he wanted to be an even better lover, the softer man Soap envisioned in his art.

“A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Soap’s eyes lit up immediately, though it didn’t ease Ghost’s nerves any. The lieutenant was a man of few words and an unstoppable force of the battlefield, but Soap had come to know the tenderness Ghost was capable of, in his words and his touch. But a gift, this was a first in their relationship.

Soap took the offered box and balanced it on a knee. Inside were several jars of brightly colored liquid. He withdrew one and gave it a shake. It jiggled some, but that didn’t help identify the contents. Next, he gave it a quick whiff. Was that fruit?

“Lime?” Soap questioned, looking a little bemused.

“It’s body paint,” Ghost clarified. His voice came across a bit sheepish. “I made it. It’s…edible.”

“Edible body paint,” Soap repeated. Ghost could see the gears turning slowly in Soap’s mind. His next move helped to grease those gears.

Ghost began to tug his hoodie and undershirt over his head. He felt like he was peeling away so many layers of himself that had accumulated over the years.

“I noticed your last journal was full. Your art is an expression of your soul. It’s a part of you, a damn beautiful part of you. You miss sketching. And I miss your art.” Ghost tossed his clothing aside and laid back with his legs coming to rest on either side of the sergeant, hooking his heels just beneath Soap’s ass to coax him forward and atop him. Soap followed effortlessly. “I know painting isn’t your preferred medium, and this body isn’t high quality material. It’s been scorched and torn, stapled and taped back together repeatedly. But, if just for tonight, I hope this body can suffice as your canvas.”

Ghost watched Soap’s face, waiting for any minute shift in his features- a furrowing of the brow, a wrinkling of his nose in disgust, anything to tell the lieutenant that this was a bad idea. Behind the mask, his cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Fucking beautiful, Si,” Soap breathed and the tension in Ghost’s body bled away. The Scotsman raked his eyes slowly down Ghost’s chest, over his clavicle, the gentle swell of his breasts, the curve of each muscle that built the solid wall that was Ghost’s frame. Soap traced him deliberately with his eyes and Ghost could swear he felt his gaze as if it were a physical caress.

“You like it?” Ghost’s voice was uncharacteristically small.

“I love it.”

“I’m sorry there’s not much room to draw,” Ghost spoke, referencing the scars carved into his flesh, the agony inflicted on him by other’s hands. “These marks can’t be erased, no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

“Aye, some art is indelible. But sometimes art is about taking what you already have and redesigning it. Telling new stories with it.”

“There are…a lot of stories here.”

“Think of them more as individual words and write a new story. Sometimes it’s easiest to write from past experiences.”

Ghost had enough of his past experiences. Saw them written on his skin every day he looked in the mirror. Soap could make something new from them, something he could smile or laugh about instead of flinching away when he touched himself.

“Can you tell me some of your stories?”

Soap searched Ghost’s chest for a starting point and zeroed in on an old keloid scar along his ribs. He grabbed a jar of white paint and dipped a finger in before bringing it to his lips and licking a long, slow line up the digit, Ghost’s eyes wide. He pushed the digit past his lips down to the knuckle, sucking hard and loud.

“Coconut,” Soap hummed, his finger now nice and wet. He dipped it in the paint again and began to doodle along the scar like his little show hadn’t left Ghost breathing harder.

“When I was a kid, maybe nine or ten, my family went skiing.” Soap sketched the outline of a mountain range along the raised scar. “I was nervous as hell. I’d never been skiing, let alone up in the mountains. Well, I didn’t make it very far up the mountain. Broke my fucking leg first thing.”

“Did you hit a tree?”

“Nope!” Soap laughed. He capped the mountains with snow. “I couldn’t sit still on the ski lift. Was kicking my legs and I slid right off the damn thing! Wasn’t a huge drop, but it was enough.”

“Ruined the family vacation.”

“It wasn’t all bad. When I got out of the hospital, mom brought me to get ice cream.” Soap bent forward and dragged his tongue along the creamy mountain range he’d drawn. The sudden wet heat had Ghost sucking in a breath. The sergeant smirked against the fluttering muscles beneath and suckled a red mark into the skin beside the scar. “It was delicious.”

Next, the tease of a man eyed a cluster of knife marks. He scooped some of the green, lime-flavored paint onto a fingertip and began to draw the outline of a box from the ends of several scars.

“A bit further back from the ski incident, there was a Christmas my parents thought I had disappeared. Christmas morning rolls around and I’m nowhere to be seen. They said they started to freak out, but all the doors and windows in the place were locked so I couldn’t have gotten out.” Soap switched to purple, grape, and doodled little swirls and stars into the box, making a present complete with bow. “They found me a while later, curled up inside one of the presents. A large box at the back of the tree with a giant teddy bear. I’d gone snooping earlier that night and crawled inside with the bear and apparently fell asleep.

“Somewhere at my parents house there’s a picture of me curled up in tissue paper around a big ol’ teddy.”

The sergeant swept away the present as quickly as it was drawn, tickling the nest of old wounds with kisses and nipping. He tasted it all, lime and grape and beneath it all, Ghost, a man he had longed to taste this way.

Soap shimmied up the larger man and pressed a kiss to Ghost’s masked lips, kissing with fervor as if the mask were nonexistent. Ghost was pressing back, trying to capture the sergeant’s lips. When they parted Soap noticed the absolute mess he had made of the man’s mask. It was now smeared with body paint, Soap’s own face sporting a similar look.

“Ah shit. Sorry, Si,” Soap apologized. Ghost was smiling though, the corners of his eyes crinkled with a joy he hardly let himself experience.

“Don’t worry, Johnny. I would have stopped you if I didn’t want it.”

“Ghost,” Soap murmured and pushed in for another kiss, sloppier and more awkward than last but nonetheless exciting.

“Do you want to hear more?”

“Please,” Ghost sighed, almost breathless.

Ghost propped himself up slightly, watching Soap’s work with fascination, the quick, fluid motions of his fingers dancing along his skin, weaving stories out of scarring both new and old. Tales from his childhood, family gatherings and holiday mishaps that had them both laughing and leaving Ghost a bit envious of those joys he never got to experience. The many times Soap had almost blown himself up as a cocky new recruit. Things he had seen while on missions, both benign and unbelievable.

“You did not see a UFO!” Ghost challenged, trying not to moan as Soap worked over a perked nipple, drawing what he remembered of the flying object.

“Swear on my life I did! Damn thing probably would have abducted me if I hadn’t squeezed off a few shots at it.”

“You said you hadn’t slept for three days. Not only were you hallucinating, you gave away your field position!”

“But the aliens didn’t abduct me.”

“Fucking hell, you’re stupid!” Ghost laughed.

When Soap wasn’t chattering away, his mouth was full of Simon, the lieutenant’s flesh reddened with bite marks and hickeys sucked into tender spots. He worked his tongue along every rise and dip of Ghost’s abdomen, taking his sweet time to learn his partner’s body. Where to scratch with fingernails to elicit a repressed moan, or where to tug with teeth that had Ghost’s hips rolling. Soap peppered kisses amidst the trail of blonde hair that disappeared into the waistband of Ghost’s pants, fingers scratching down his sides. Ghost was left quivering.

Ghost’s eyes fluttered open when he felt fingers slip into the waistband of his pants. He didn’t remember shutting them. Soap was looking up at him, his chin resting on the other man’s navel, his cheeks bright with a rainbow of paint. He was asking permission to delve further south. He nodded and Soap all too enthusiastically made short work of the lieutenant’s pants.

Simon’s thighs were no less scarred than the rest of him. Pink and pale lines were carved into the creamy surface. A burn scar here. A shrapnel wound there. A bullet wound that had carved a small chunk of Simon’s outer thigh away.

Here Soap paused his artwork, instead wanting to taste Ghost pure. He followed the curvature of muscles from knee to groin, breath hot on the rarely exposed flesh. He made each scar sloppy with wet kisses and dragged teeth down the inner thigh, biting his own marks into Simon, claiming the man.

Ghost’s breathing quickened. Over the rise and fall of his chest, he could just make out the mohawk moving as Soap devoured him. He reached down, his hand finding the ridge of hair and grasping. Soap growled low and pressed sucking kisses dangerously close to the clothed dick.

Then Soap bit down hard, growling Simon’s name hungrily against the tender flesh and Ghost practically yanked the Scot away, Soap eliciting a rather undignified moan at the movement. He held the ravenous man at a distance to catch his breath, admiring how absolutely debauched the sergeant looked. Ghost mused he probably looked worse.

“You’re like a fucking leech.”

Soap chuckled and wiped spit from his lips with the back of his hand.

“You taste so fucking good, Simon.”

Ghost released Soap, the sergeant sitting back to admire his work. Ghost’s body was a smattering of colors, most scars now hidden beneath a layer of paint. Designs had been doodled, licked clean, drawn anew and licked away again. Over and over again from neck to navel.

“You look like a fucking treasure, Simon. Beautiful, ornate.”

“Well, you have the hands of an artisan.”

“Aye, I’m pretty good. But I bet you’re capable of making a masterpiece too.”

Ghost made a questioning hum. The only thing he was good at making were bodies drop. His sewing skills weren’t complete shit, though.

“Simon,” Soap breathed and hooked a finger beneath the edge of his mask and tugged. He guided the lieutenant to switch positions, Soap now shaded comfortably in the larger man’s shadow. He angled Ghost’s head down to whisper against clothed lips. “I want you to touch me. Make me beautiful.”

“I can’t improve what’s already a masterpiece.” Soap was all solid muscle and dark hair. Bright eyes that warmed Ghost’s soul. He was strength when Ghost needed to feel weak.

“Ghost. Simon. Will you touch me?” Soap’s palms rested on his cheeks.

“I don’t have heartwarming tales to regale you with. Nothing funny or feel-good.”

“Then tell me something that you want to happen.”

Ghost contemplated the jars of paint. Of all the colors, red and yellow were still mostly full. Soap had steered clear of red, averse to staining Ghost’s skin the color of blood.

Yellow though. A color Ghost heavily associated with spring and new beginnings. Sunshine. Johnny was his sunshine on the darkest days.

Didn’t hurt that it tasted like pineapple.

“Something that I want,” Ghost mused, dipping a finger into the paint and beginning to draw along Soap’s collarbone. “I’ve found myself thinking about retirement more often lately. To be honest, the thought of leaving active service scares the shit outta me. I think I might lose a part of me that day. There’d be nothing to tether me to reality. But if I had someone to keep me grounded, someone who knew that feeling too, we might make it through together.”

“What kind of someone are you looking for? Someone you intend to keep around?”

“Someone for the long haul.” Ghost teased the swell of a pec and down over a nipple, bending to brush his nose against the other. Soap sighed and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Someone who is the first thing I see that day. Someone I want to curl around on cold mornings, their body like a damn furnace. And I’m cold because they like to steal the blankets in the night and somehow keep one while tossing the rest on the floor.”

Ghost worked his hand through dark curls of chest hair, making no effort to draw any specific design, just wanting to mark Johnny.

“I want someone who can cook an amazing breakfast and yet still manage to brew an absolute dogshit cup of tea.”

“That was one time,” Soap grumbled.

“But I choke it down because I love them.”

Ghost clawed at Soap’s stomach, fingertips tracing the sergeant’s own scars, concealing them in paint. He painted the dark hair that disappeared into Soap’s sweatpants. The sergeant’s hips rolled up, eager for more, but Ghost pulled back and instead buried his face into Soap’s belly, rubbing his cheeks and pressing masked kisses into the fluttering abdominal muscles.

“Want someone who has my six, and every other time of day. Who gives me their all and expects nothing in return, when they deserve it all and more. Someone who has all the patience in the world for a slow sod like me to come around.

“Just someone I can love unconditionally.” Ghost spread paint over the palm of his hand and pressed it over Soap’s heart.

“Sounds like a lot to ask of one person,” Soap smiled sweetly and his hand brushed over Ghost’s skull. “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”

Ghost closed the distance between their frames, grinding his body into Soap’s as he came up to meet the sergeant’s face. He pulled away his mask and tossed it to the floor.

“I love you, Johnny.”

They kissed soft and slow, hands buried in hair, their bodies feeling as though they were melding into one.

“I love you, Si,” Soap whispered against the other’s lips when they broke apart.

Ghost hunkered down atop Soap and nuzzled his face into Soap’s throat. The Scot held him tightly, one hand idly toying with his hair.

“Our hands are filthy, so I’ll let you grab it later, but I hid a second present in your bedside drawer.”

“Oh? You engaged on a stealth mission?”

“Sort of,” Ghost chuckled. “I ordered a few new journals from your favorite hometown shop.”

“You beautiful bastard!”

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