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#i'm gonna use these So Much you have no idea how many times i've had to omit arcade-carpet patterns bc it'd cramp my hand
keeps-ache · 1 year
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[slaps this] 'nother OC for the books
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inkskinned · 10 months
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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duke-daemon · 3 months
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hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo
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okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3
just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.
hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.
now for the characters!
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VAGGIE VALTIEL:
starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.
CHARLIE:
next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!
the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition
tangent time!
as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)
back to the characters
Alastor:
note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning
with that being said...
alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does
(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)
Angel Dust:
TW: brief discussion of SA
this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.
i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.
LUTE:
so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...
with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties
i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.
Adam + Final Thoughts
i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell
final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.
Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.
Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.
If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).
That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.
As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.
Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.
Enjoy!
A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!
The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.
Word Count: 1,752
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There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.
Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.
Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.
Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.
The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.
Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.
It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.
The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.
"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"
It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.
"I am everything."
They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.
"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"
The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.
"It is the truth."
A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.
"Yeah, alright."
"Who are you?"
"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"
The demon shrugged.
"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."
"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."
Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.
He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.
"I told you."
"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"
The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.
"So, you let me catch you."
"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."
"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."
The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.
"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.
Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.
"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."
He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.
They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.
"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."
"And you are?"
"No."
"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.
"Far from it. I don't like being seen."
"But you're letting me see you."
"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."
Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.
"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."
"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."
Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.
"I have power enough."
"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"
"Are you suggesting a deal?"
The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.
"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."
"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.
"Not on purpose but I supose so."
The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.
"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."
"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."
A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.
"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."
Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.
"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."
"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."
"Are you trying to intimidate me?"
"Not at all."
The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.
"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."
"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.
He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.
"We all take what we are given."
"I suppose."
Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.
"If you will be the face, I will be the force."
"No soul binding."
"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."
Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.
"Not an overlord yet."
----
tags:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0
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non-stop-imagines · 2 months
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Wedding Night
From this request 🤍
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Fem!Reader
Summary: In which it's your's and Charles' wedding night.
Word Count: ~4.9k words
Warning: Smut (p in v; the fluffiest smut I've ever written and I'm a big ol' softy), fingering, oral (fem receiving), accidental orgasm denial, aftercare, reader first time, Charles is very sweet and caring, words virgin/virginity NOT used but obviously implied, Wife used a quite a bit, online translator French, Minors DNI!!! 18+
A/N: Haha! See told you all I could do it! You guys have been so supportive and caring I literally have absolutely no idea how to thank you. I'm just glad I can finally get this out and that reading it back didn't make me cringe as much as I though it would. Hopefully like I said in the past, this sparks my motivation, but for now I'm just gonna do this one step at a time. Thank you to the anon who requested this. Thank you everyone for your patience and kindness. Hope you all enjoy! Love you all! 💖💛💖💛
Translations: ma femme=my wife; d'accord=okay; Pour votre mari=for your husband;Tu es tellement serrée, ma chère=you're so tight, my dear;Je t'aime tant, ma femme=I love you so much, my wife;Ma belle, très belle femme=my beautiful, beautiful wife
Masterlist
______♥______
You were a vision to Charles as you stood in the entry to the en suite bathroom in the Honeymoon suite you two were staying in for the night before whisking away to Italy for your honeymoon. You were only in a simple white, lacy lingerie set gifted to you by your best friend who had the joy of being your maid of honor. As she gifted it, she teased you lightly about your wedding night being your first time and that she "Doesn't expect it to last the night with how long you made Charles wait."
"Cherie, you look...wow." Charles, already just in his underwear, admired you from where he stood across the room. When you two first got to the room you were quick to start the process of stripping down while making out, but your brain was swirling with nerves you decided it was best for you to take leave to the bathroom to finish stripping and adjusting the set you had on, so in that time Charles took the liberty of stripping down to his underwear as well. As he approached you, he eyes danced rapidly over your body, grinning at how innocent and nervous your widened brown eyes made your face look, how the lace gracing your brown skin made you look even more delicate than usual. You were an angel. His angel. His wife.
"You really like it?" You were simultaneously closed and open to him with your feet twisting inward and your posture curling in on itself but your arms wrapped behind your back. Charles steadily made his way towards you and gently brought your arms to wrap around his torso so he could bring his hands to your jaw to lift your head up to meet his lips for a short kiss.
"Yes. Of course. You look beautiful, ma femme." He moved his hands to your shoulder to pull you in even closer and began peppering kisses along your jaw, leading down your neck so he could leave love bites at the base of your neck where it leads to your shoulder and collarbone. He uses his tongue to soothe each bite he leaves, a feeling that you've loved from the beginning and that has been the high point of many make out sessions through 2 and a half years you and Charles dated. He adjusted your arms, bringing them up to wrap around his neck so he's able to bring his hands to your waist to pull you in closer with each heavenly sounding mewl you let out. He begins to walk you backwards to the bed, switching to the other side of your neck to continue his love bite assault. The feeling of the bed on the back of your legs was your only indication that you two had made it to your destination, and with out breaking the contact his lips had on your skin, he lowered you onto the white sheets of the hotel sheets, the heavy comforter tossed out of the way, and only then did he back stop his relentless attack on your neck and to hover over you, eyes taking a minute to admire all of your features.
"You're my husband." Your smile up at him was full of pure joy, attracting Charles to lower down to give you another deep kiss. The realization made you warm and fuzzy, and allowed your nerves to subside briefly.
"And you're my beautiful wife. And I finally get to make my wife feel so good." He seemed to moan out the second sentence, contining to kiss along your collarbone and making his way down the valley between your breasts. "Is this okay?" You nod to him, meeting his gaze as he waited at your chest. "I need you to speak, Cherie."
"Oh, um, yes. That-that's fine." You hold intense eye contact with your husband as he pushes down one of the cups of your bra, freeing your boob and sensually kissing around your nipple before taking the nub in his mouth, tongue swirling around it. It took a moment for the feeling to register, you brain initially focusing on how exposed you were, how you've never been this exposed to another person before, but once his tongue began to work around your nipple, your head was thrown back into the bed as you pushed your chest up into Charles mouth, quiet, airy moans escaping your lips.
"Feels good?" The smile Charles' shines up at you when you turn your attention back to him has you melting, or at least that's what you convinced yourself as you feel warmth and moisture begin to develop between your legs.
"Mhmm, so good." You push your chest back up to him and the vibration that comes with his chuckle as he begins to suck at your chest again has you moaning a bit louder. This action continues a bit longer, with him switching to your other breast to give it equal attention but soon his lips leave your chest continue down yours stomach.
Anytime Charles wasn't focusing on an action, his eyes were trained on yours, trying to gauge how you're feeling and in general getting lost in the haze of your chocolate eyes. So, as he kissed down your torso, his blue eyes never left your face, and yet his kisses were placed perfectly. His lips lingered for a moment at the top of your pelvis, pressing a long kiss at the hem of your panties before continuing down, skipping over your pussy and reconnecting his lips to your inner thigh.
"I'm going to move these over, amor. Okay?" Charles' voice was just above a whisper as his piercing eyes waited for a response. Truthfully he was dying to taste you. If he wasn't waiting for your approval he would've already been tongue deep in you, the growing wet spot from your arousal on your underwear not making it any easier for him. But he was patient, pressing intermittent kisses to your upper inner thigh as he waited.
"O-okay..." Your hands immediately went to grip the pure white bedsheets beneath you, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a frenzy. Your first instinct to bury your head in the sheets beneath you as well, just wanting to get everything over with, but against your better judgement, you kept your eyes on Charles, lips slightly parted as you watched him smile brightly up at you before focusing his attention on your covered pussy again. He darted his tongue out to lightly lick his lips as he took one finger and hooked it onto the damp white fabric, moving it to the side to finally expose you to him, pussy glistening from your juices. The sight was nearly hypnotic to him, eyes tracing along your folds, enticing him to at least reach out a touch you...
"Wait! Charles?" You called to him panicked, making him stop in his tracks and focus his attention back on your, now visibly worried, face.
"Oui, mon amour?" Charles props himself up onto his elbow a bit more so you weren't having to look down between your legs to speak to him.
"What, um, what are you gonna do?" Your view of Charles was borderline sinful, his pupils dilated, lips glistening and swollen from their relentless attack down your body, hair askew, and all of the love and adoration he had for you shining through his gaze up at you. You loved this man so much.
"I just wanted to taste you, ma cherie. But if you don't want me to..." You could tell by the way Charles shifted his body, he was about to move back up your body, but you stop him, literally putting your hand out to stop him.
"No, I just was wondering. Please, Charlie...keep going." Yout hand gravitates to his hair, lightly pushing some of it back. You could have photographed and framed the smile Charles gave you before he rehooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him, and dove in. He had to fight hard to keep himself from devouring you like a starved man, but he slowed himself down, allowing his tongue to slowly drag through your labia, circle around your clit and end in a light suck on the nub.
Charles wished his brain could record and store the moans and whimpers you let out upon initial contact. Your hips immediately started to buck toward the sensation of his tongue, surprised, high pitched moans being pushed from your diaphragm. One of your hands that initially had a death grip on the sheets had let go and flown straight to his hair, pushing him into your cunt even more. He was amused at your sudden eagerness, humming out a chuckle that sent a vibration through you pussy and caused a shocked squeal to be pulled from you.
"It's good?" Charles disconnects his mouth from you, using a hand to continue to rub your clit. You didn't think the image of him between your legs could get even more pornographic, but seeing his wide blue eyes and bright, satisfied smile with the welcome addition of your juices coating his lips and chin was a different level. Even still, you had no idea how much Charles was basking in this moment, finally being able to taste you, hear your moans and screams. He was finally able to satisfy you and he wanted to make sure you enjoyed it.
"Yes...fu- so good. So good. Please keep going, baby." Charles didn't hesitate to go back to tasting you, putting extra focus on your clit, letting the long languid licks up your entire entrance be small breaks in the intense feeling resulting from his devoted attention to the body part that had your toes curling and your thighs threatening to close in on your husband.
"Can I use my fingers on you?" The question was abrupt, and while you were slightly aware of the multitude of ways to satisfy yourself, fingers wasn't one you ever thought to try. Charles saw the confusion in your face and lifted back on to his elbows but still allowed his fingers to test your entrance. "I'll go slow. One at a time. And you tell me if your don't like it or want me to stop, bon?" His hand continued to move, the gentleness of his words and the care in his eyes were enough to quell your nerves again for you to nonverbally answer him. "Words, amor. Speak to me."
"Oh, yeah. Um, yes, that's fine." You giggle nervously, and smile with Charles before he goes back down to place gentle kisses on your inner upper thigh, closer to your pussy but still allowing him to see your face as he pushes in his middle finger. Your eyes initially widened at the feeling, the small amount of stretch that comes with his finger being pressed inside you, but the pleasure that sets in and when he begins to slowly pump it in and out had your rolling your head and eyes back letting out a strangled whine.
"That's it, mon amor. Make your pretty noises for me. Pour votre mari." Charles goes back to sucking on your clit, incorporating the feeling that already had you seeing spots before he began stretching you out with his fingers. You didn't know what you expected from Charles in this moment, but it wasn't this. He was soft, dominant, patient, with the slightest bit of frantic feralness that show how bad he wanted this. To finally get to be with you in the most intimate way, and as his wife no less. This was an absolute dream to him, and you could tell from his performance.
"Oh, oh Charles..." This initially comes out as a silky moan, ringing like a silver bell in Charles' ears, but it slowly got more frantic and panicked as your hips began to buck into Charles' face like they had a mind of their own. It was like all of your senses were heightened, a sharp pleasureable feeling pushing against a proverbial dam that was starting to burst open. "Charles, Charles. Wait! Wait!" Charles heads your warning, immediately stopping and removing his fingers and mouth from you, pushing himself up from the bed so he was still kneeling between your legs. Your hips continued to buck uncontrollably, eyes squeezing shut and hands gripping the sheets, nails threatening to tear through them, fighting what could only be an orgasm you weren't prepared for.
"Are you alright, cherie?" Charles crawls his way back up the bed, kissing and nipping at your neck again. He smelled like you, and while knowing that was odd to say the least, you couldn't deny that it was freaking sexy.
"Yeah. Um, I just-what was-" Charles had crawled up to lay at your side pulling you into him by your waist, caressing your side as his thigh got slightly to close to your excessively sensitive pussy.
"I think you were about to cum, mon amor. Why didn't you let yourself?" He pushed some of your hair that had stuck to your sweating face back behind your ear, smiling at the fucked out, doe eyed face you made, brown skin hiding a slight blush from the general over heating of your body.
"I've never- when ever I did try-you know, um, grinding on my pillow or whatever- I felt so silly cause I didn't know what I was doing so I stopped before anything got too...intense." You had since squeezed your thighs shut, still slightly sensitive from your accidentally denied orgasm, but still wet and aroused, mind making note of the feeling of his bulge against the front of your thigh and briefly flashing to the thought of him inside you, what it would feel like.
"You shouldn't have felt silly, mon amor. I'm just glad you feel you can tell me about it..." He tilts your head up so he could kiss your nose then allowed himself to get lost in your eyes as he took a second to think. "I didn't want you to cum then anyway." You couldn't help but be confused by his confession.
"Well then how..." You realized the answer to your own admittedly stupid question quickly, earning you another kiss on the nose and then one on the forehead.
"You're very cute, you know that?" He lifts your chin up further so he's able to go back to kissing you, first a simple singular kiss, then it became slow and sensual, like you were his favorite flavor of ice cream. Your brain always got clouded whenever he initiated deep makout sessions like this, but this was amplified 10-fold. You don't know when his lips began to trail down your abdomen, but all of a sudden he was back at your the hem of your lacy lingerie underwear, hooking his fingers in them prepared to pull down. "I'm gonna take these off, okay?"
"Okay..." Your voice was just over a whisper, just loud enough for Charles to make out your word allowing him to remove your underwear, the cool hotel room air hitting your glistening pussy, and somehow making you wetter. Charles pushes himself off the bed with his knees to remove his own undergarment, and you propped up on your elbows, gnawing at your bottom lip as you watched. You've seen very few penises in your life, usually on accident and you would quickly avert your eyes, but Charles' had your full attention. It was...pretty? There wasn't much of a difference in color since he was already a bit paler him self, and the tip was about the color of his lips, a muted light pink, but with a ting of red. The tip was slightly shiny and your eyes were focusing enough to notice a bead of a thick liquid begin to slide down his cock head as he finished stepping out of his boxers. Your eyes followed the bounce of his dick as he moved, the underlying logistical question slowly making its way into your brain.
"You look worried, ma cherie. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?" He began to crawl he way back up your body, hands anchoring themselves on the bed right above your shoulders, eyes doing nothing but raking over your face again and again, being extra vigilant in looking for any sign of hesitation or just generally wanting to stop.
"No, no. I definitely do NOT want to stop. I'm just a little...scared. I don't want it to hurt." The face you were making as you voiced your concerns, eyebrows scrunched and lips a bit poutier than their normal fullness, gave Charles no choice but to give you light kisses in both places. Despite your worries, your core betrayed you, getting that much wetter as you thought about the act, especially with Charles dick so close to it.
"And it shouldn't hurt. Maybe at first a little, definitely never a lot or for a long time. Overall, it should feel good." He leans down to kiss you, lips savoring yours, but he could sense your hesitation. "How about...colors?" An immediate look of confusion graced your features, making Charles explain further. "Like, you tell me 'Red' to stop and... 'Pink' to wait a moment. It's a little more familiar, less serious than saying the actual words but still has the same effect. Is that okay with you?" You eyebrows unknotted and your eyes averted the intense, loving gaze of your husband as you quietly nodded to the suggestion.
"Yeah, that's fine." You squeaked out as you remembered the earlier instruction you received about using your words. Charles leans down to press another kiss to your lips, then retracts to line himself up with you, running his dick along your soaking wet folds because even through your worry, you could help but be aroused still. The further you got into your relationship with Charles, the more you thought about this feeling, bodies entwined, completely connected in the most intimate way. You still had a knot in your stomach though, fear of the unknown nagging at the back of your mind.
"I'm going to push in, okay." He made sure he was lined up before looking at your face, this time allowing your silent nod to suffice. He brought his head down so his forehead could touch yours and slowly began to push his dick inside of you, both of you watching intently, but once he started his eyes immediately shot back up to your face, you still watching.
First came a snap of pain as you let out a long, agonizing sobbing whine, then the slow increase of pressure, the combination of the 2 feelings having you yelling out "Pink!" before you could even think twice about it. As Charles promised before, his hips paused immediately when he heard the color, lifting his forehead from yours so he could get a good look at you.
"Okay, okay. I'll wait. Let me know when you want me to move again..." Charles was already out of breath just from the restraint he exhibited. You were so warm, so tight around the parts of him that were already inside of you. The feeling was everything he ever dreamed of and he wanted so much more, but his main focus was you. He wanted to do everything in his power to make tonight the best night of your life, and he'll be damned if he does anything to ruin it.
As the pain very quickly subsided, you still had the pressure to adjust to, the surprisingly tantalizing pressure. After that your brain registered the feeling of Charles dick grazing your walls, the points of pleasure that have never been stimulated until this moment, and the points further in that were screaming for there own taste. "Okay, y-you can move." Charles hesitates, scanning your face for doubt he is unable to find, then continues to press his hips forward. Your sobbing whine continues, not because of pain, but because the pleasure you were experiencing from being stretched out by Charles cock, from the delicious pressure on you felt between your hips, feeling all of the intenseness of having sex for the first time, making love to your husband, had your mind going a million miles an hour.
"Are you okay?" Charles had completely bottomed out at this point, adjusting how your legs wrapped around his waist as you squirmed into the feeling, the pressure still something to get used to. Your whine had shifted into a quiet satisfied moan, the sound like music to his ears as he waited for your to say something.
"Charlie, fuck me. Please." Charles was shocked to say the least at your use of vocabulary, but the high-pitched whisper of your voice so beautifully contrasted the nature of your words. And, of course, he had to listen to his wife. So, he slowly began to pull out of you, but was not quite all the way out before he fucked back into you, his own breathy groans making beautiful music with your noises.
"Tu es tellement serrée, ma chère." The default French words strained from his mouth as your brain continued to familiarize itself with the feeling. "How are you feeling, mon amor? Tell me how I make you feel..." You brain recognized the small speed increase of Charles hips, but you didn't care. In fact, you welcomed it.
"It feels so good, baby. So good..." Those last two words echoed from your lips in an increasingly whiny tone, your manicured nails clawing into Charles back, a hiss leaving his mouth as you layed red scratches along his back.
"You feel so good around me, cherie. So tight." Charles moved his hips a bit faster, working against the pleasant resistance, your long, languid, high pitched whines motivating the movement of his hips. He never minded waiting for you, but he has also thought about this moment since the first time he laid eyes on you, and this surpassed anything he could've imagined.
You felt the pressure building again, the frightening over sensitivity as his dick dragged deliciously in and out you and his hips grazed lightly over your swollen clit, causing you to claw over his back even more. This time Charles' words echoed through your brain, telling you to relax, to let it happen. So you let your body relax and feel everything it was feeling, and your brain was turning to mush.
Charles knew you were close. Your walls were beginning to flutter around him, your moans were loud and unabashed, increasingly high-pitched and whiny. You had begun to arch your body into him, hips working fervently to meet each snap of his own. The moment was the most beautiful mixture of you and Charles wanting to please each other, make each other feel the most intense amount of pleasure one could conceivably feel, and it came to its hilt when your cunt began to spasm at an increased uneven rate, your body reflexively clinging tight to Charles as you came for the first time, him closely following suit and emptying himself inside of you, burying his face into your neck as best as he could with yours jammed in the crook of his neck, the vibration of your moans being the only indication of the stifled sound.
Charles tried with all of his power to stay propped up above you, but when he knew he couldn't do it anymore, he did his best to make his fall into hugging your still trembling frame as smooth as possible. He cooed praises into your ear and gently caressed your back as you rode out your orgasm (You did so good for me; Thank you for trusting me; Je t'aime tant, ma femme), and stayed there until your trembling and quiet whines subsided before getting up to head to the bathroom, very quickly cleaning himself up before dampening a small towel with warm water. He then carefully climbed back into bed, gently guiding your body so you sat between his legs, you limp thighs parted enough for him to, for the moment, just place the warm towel over your sore pussy. You protested weakly, body still highly sensitive to his touch, but Charles waited patiently until you allowed him to continue, gently wiping any stickiness from your cunt and inner thighs stopping anytime your hands jolted for his wrist and waiting until the grip loosened. He pressed kisses to your now messed up hair and continued to whisper his devotion to you as he clean you up, also choosing to gently massage your legs and hips while he had you in this position. Once he was able to do this without interruption, he finished cleaning and massaging areas you previously wouldn't let him near and then got back up to toss away the towel and grab one of the many large nightshirts he knew you packed to sleep in, and gently guided you to sit up long enough to pull the shirt over your head and arms before allowing you lay back down, pulling the heavy comforter that got pushed to the side earlier in the night over your tired body. He finished straightenting up some of the room, tossing worn clothes and the used towel in a corner to later be seperated out and washed when you two made it to the vacation home in Italy, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and going on a hunt for a bottle of water somewhere in the large hotel suite. When he got back to the bedroom, two found bottles of water in hand, he was met by the heavnly sight of you, looking at him with wide yet tired eyes, face illuminated by the subtle glow of the dimmed bathroom light, a small grin on your lips silently pleading for him to come to bed. He slowly approached you, wanting to burn the image into his brain for him to be able to go back to in years to follow, taking his time closing the bathroom door so only a sliver of light was left, then handing you the bottle he opened as he walked over for you to take a drink of as he climbed into bed. You tried to get away with only a sip, but he wouldn't lay down until at least half of the bottle was gone.
"After what we just did, you need to hydrate, mon amor." You chuckled and watched him as he downed a majority of his bottle before placing it on the nightstand beside him then turning over to pull you into his chest. He smelled like sex (now that you understood the phrase) and what was left of his sweet, woodsy cologne, and you wished you could bottle it up and save it forever. The room was silent, which felt weird compared to the the animalistic noises that filled it moments before, leaving room for you to think, and sprial into voicing a conclusion that has haunted you since you and Charles began dating.
"I'm sorry." You were quiet, you honestly hoped that Charles didn't hear you, but that hope was slashed when you felt his neck move to tip his head to look at you.
"What are you saying sorry for?" His voice was gentle, but very obviously confused, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and continue.
"For-uhm-making you wait so long..." You had opened you eyes long before your confession, but you did everything you could to avoid eye contact. If there was one thing that made you feel insecure in your relationship, by no one else's fault but your own (and maybe the snide remark from people here and there), it was whether or not you held onto your morals too tight. Whether or not Charles resented you for not trusting him with something this intimate sooner.
"Don't say sorry. There is no reason for sorry. I knew I was going to marry you the moment I met you, so what would it have hurt me to wait?" He let out a polite laugh and kissed your forehead. "Don't ever be sorry for the boundaries you set, d'accord? I just want you to feel safe." Another kiss was pressed onto your head as silence settled over you two again. That is until it was Charles' turn to voice his own nagging concern. "I just hope that it was good for you. That's all I want."
"Charlie, it was better than I could have ever imagined." It was your turn to kiss away his worry, using a hand on his cheek to move his face down for a peck on the lips.
"You can tell the truth. I can take it." He dramatically falls back onto his pillow and turns his head away, failing at stopping the chuckle that ensues. You just climb further on top of him, giggling as well until you both just settled on each other's eyes, nothing else consuming your minds than wanting to crash your lips together, kissing each other as deep as you could until you had to come up for air.
"I'm so happy I got to marry the love of my life." You cuddled back into his chest and begin to let the darkness and the tiredness of your body lull you to sleep.
"I'm happy I got to make the love of my life my wife. Ma belle, très belle femme." One last nuzzle of your head into his chest was all the comfort and reassurance he needed to drift off to sleep himself, the anticipation of the real honeymoon filling both of your dreams.
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xamag-draws · 12 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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cntloup · 2 months
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Fem!Military!Reader fluffy fluff :')
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"What if we just elope?" you blurt out casually to your lieutenant. His eyes widen, trying not to choke on his tea. "Wha'?" he asks in disbelief of what he just heard. "Let's elope. We'll tell Price. He can be the witness.” you reply, speaking so nonchalantly. “Don’t you wanna marry me?” you ask, pouting, trying not to burst into laughter as you see the shocked look stuck on his face. “You’re fucking serious, aren’t you?” he starts to get into the idea of eloping, “ ‘course I wanna marry you, dove!” he mutters as he lifts you from your seat by the waist and plumps you down on his lap, making you giggle as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss. “Don’t you want a proper wedding?” he asks, thinking how you deserve the absolute best, everything that you’ve ever dreamed of. “No, it’s too much. I want it to be just us.” you respond, nuzzling your nose against his, “What about you?” you ask, curious about his opinion since he’s never mentioned it. “I’d melt at the sight of you walking down the aisle for me.” he whispers and kisses you softly, “But whatever you want, lovie.” “You’re such a softie, Si!” you say, teasingly, “Shut up!” he scolds, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt about marrying you.” he murmurs against your lips, “We'll do whatever you want, love... go wherever you want. But I haven’t proposed yet.” “Were you planning to?” you ask, surprised. He pulls out a small dark green box from his pocket and you gasp dramatically, placing your hand over your heart. You've talked about marriage before but you had no idea he was planning to propose any time soon since you were both very busy with your tough job. He opens the box and inside it, there is a vintage ruby ring, “It’s my mum’s ring. I've been carrying it for so long now. Going over what to say and how to pop the question a million times but I had no idea.” he utters as a heaviness settles in his chest at the mention of his mother. “Oh, Simon!” you coo, leaning in to kiss him. “You deserve the best, love. Are you sure about this?” he questions, still not believing the fact that you want to marry him, despite you mentioning it countless times. “Of course I'm sure, Si! You're the love of my life.” you say, gently caressing his stubbled cheeks, pure love evident in your beautiful eyes. “Then I'm gonna do this the proper way.” he says as he gently places you on your feet and gets down on one knee. “Dove, will you marry me?” he asks, tears welling up in his eyes as he looks up at you. “Yes! Of course!” you squeal out, sobbing. He gets up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. You pull away after a while, panting and giggling as he presses his forehead against yours, a loving smile on his face that reaches his eyes, reserved only for you. “I love you.” “I love you too, Si.” 
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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avocado-writing · 3 months
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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆
ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...
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Astarion
really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.
can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?
you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.
if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.
holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.
as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.
Gale
curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.
wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.
makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.
you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."
fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.
when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.
Lae'zel
only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.
"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"
hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.
makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.
it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.
"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."
goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.
Shadowheart
obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.
immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.
it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.
"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."
her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.
"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."
she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.
Wyll
panics.
you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.
he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.
lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.
helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.
when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.
constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.
Karlach
another panicker.
scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.
begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.
you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.
carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.
Halsin
sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?
squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.
you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.
he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.
kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.
Dammon
my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.
waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?
when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.
he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.
he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.
Rolan
another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.
"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."
rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.
you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.
Zevlor
practical but still worried about you.
you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.
you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.
when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.
when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.
does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...
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impyssadobsessions · 5 months
Text
DPXDC Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse "Excerpts" (Part 1?) I have more Ideas
Okay I kepy thinking about the prompt Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse I made LOL- (gonna post excerpts.) Probably wont fully write this.. as much as I like to right now LOL. If this inspires anyone to write, go for it.
"So now what? Going to vivisect me? Experiment? Rip my molecules apart like how my-Mr. Fenton keeps telling me." "Unfortunately, no." Agent K grumbles. "And its dissection, not-" Agent O tries to correct. "I maybe dead-but I'm not THAT dead." Danny rolled his eyes, flashing them at the two men in white. He can't believe any of this is happening. Oh he wished he listened to Jazz.. or Sam or Tuck more. He pulled at his ghost proof bindings, them having him ridiculously buried in the restraints. "Actually, Mr. Phantom, is it? I wanted to talk." Another bald man walks in, his suit notably black. Danny raised his eyebrow unimpressed, "What? Is it the Guys in Black and White now? Not that I'm against it, I'm all for equality, but it does seem a little off brand. I'm guessing the bleach bill is getting too high." Agent O was about to speak out- when the guy in black raised his hand to silence him. This guy only looked slightly amused, which gave Danny the creeps. "Of course not. That'd be ridiculous, though I'm not against inclusivity either. I'm Lex Luthor, and it is my recent interest in ghosts that had allowed the GIW to reach its full potential. " "So another annoying billionaire. Great."
"So you know of me? Perfect, then we can keep this simple. In truth, I am only interested in one ghost in particular." "We can capture him without involving ourselves with this scum-" "This GHOST has not only evaded my notice for YEARS, but has been stealing very valuable technology that would go beyond NASA's comprehension. Though I don't doubt your expertise, it has not come without notice that this particular ghost is seen the most-" Lex flicked his eyes down at Phantom. "With you." Agent K and O unrolled paper from their suits to reveal a picture of Plasmius. "The Wisconsin Ghost." - "Plasmius?!" Danny spoke same time the Agents did. Lex smirked at the Agents then down at Phantom. Danny took a moment to register what was going on before busting out laughing. "Really? What makes you think I'm buddy buddy with Plasmius? He's a total fruitloop and honestly- not surprise. He steals blueprints from my p---Dr. Fentons all the time." "You steal their items as well, if we recall." Agent K raised a brow. "Well-I- Just because- YOU USE THEIR BLUEPRINTS TOO!" "Enough. " Lex starting to sound annoyed, Danny felt like it was a win. Serves bastard right. Man did he hate billionaires. "I've observed your work in Amity Park. If I dare say you are quite similar to many of the masked vigilantes that plague this Earth. Even more heroic in my opinion." Danny was not biting at whatever trick Lex was pulling. Though he didn't miss the skip of his core at being recognized something other than a menace. 'He's lying to you.' he repeated in his head. Pulling on his bindings again to remember the real situation before him.
"That being said, I like you to do as heroes do and capture this criminal, then bring him to me." "Look, thanks for the compliment- but we both know I'm not seen as a hero. So why don't you quit the buttering 'cause I'm not interested in culinary and tell me what's in it for me. Even though I'm barely c-average on the best of days, I'm not dumb. I'm not doing this for free or just some lame you will be spared nonsense. Been there done that." Lex smirked again, "I'll grant you immunity from GIW and you can have your haunt back." "Wait? What?!" "But it took so long to capture him-" "IF you manage to capture Plasmius and bring him to me before GIW can." Danny glanced at the two agents as they puffed out their chests. Cocky. They really think they could capture Vlad? Then painfully reminded himself that they did catch him. "And if I don't agree?" "We DISSECT you and use you for very unethical and highly painful experiments that are legal on subjects like yourself." Agent K happily boast. "Riiiight." Danny clicked his tongue, "Add in that these guys are not allowed to be in a 50 miles radius from Amity and I'll do it." "No-" "Deal."
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Danny looped on back to the entryway as he finished swooping through every room of the manor. "Alright! Come on out Fruitloop! I know you're still here-" Just as Phantom floated down to land, he felt a hard punch in his face that sent him skidding across the room into the wall. "OOF" "Guess I should have seen that com...ming..." Danny rubbed his jaw, turning back to see who punched him. His eyes widening as he recognized the heroes he was facing. "Phantom. We're taking you into custody." "YOU CALLED THE JUSTICE LEAGUE ON ME?!" -----(Fight happens)--- Flash manages to hold Phantom, using his speeding molecules to keep Phantom from phasing through his grip. Danny gritting his teeth as the other heroes ready to capture him. Fine. If he can't phase through, he'll just phase in. Phantom uses his icy breath to freeze everything around them. Superman quickly uses his laser vision to melt the ice covering the room in mist, trying to keep themselves from being frozen. "Flash!" When the mist cleared the was no sign of him. Superman using his hearing to try and locate him- despite guarding his right side, he was kicked into the wall by Flash. Flash's eyes glowing bright green. "Well this is weird." -Proceeds to fight in Flash's body for a moment, until he gets knocked out of it. Danny's on his last legs, thinking he barely done a number on them (Not realizing he had been giving them quite a fight). Danny tries to reason again only to hear Amity Park doing great since GIW involvement. Still he isn't backing down. Even mentions Lex is backing them. He knows its only temporary peace if its really peace at all. Which he suspects is a big farce. Besides the portal still resides in Amity. GIW can't get a hold of that- portal. If he can't make them hear him out, then he'll show them why Vlad isn't just some victim. (Not realizing what Justice League may have already discovered) "Want to know why the number 2 worse billionaire is after Fruitloop?" standing up as the net placed on him burned and electrified him. It hurt so much, but he wasn't ready to quit now. Superman flew out in front of the others to block Phantom as Phantom tackled him. Phantom just uses rest of his strength to crash Superman through layers of floors til they reached the secret lab. Superman flinging Phantom into the other side of the room just as they landed, making him slam into a green tube, shattering it. The netting having dropped to the ground away from him. He coughed, shaking as a white ring dangerously popped around his waist shakily dancing, until Phantom sucked it back in. Not yet. The green ectoplasm from the tube soaking into his skin. His eyes widening as he saw what the green ectoplasm was from, jumping back with a disgust yell. He watched the clone fizzle out. "ALREADY? Really Vlad?" He shook off the creeps. "What is this?" "A Lab, du-UAHHHHHHH-" He found himself being spun around by Flash, and flung into the air where he was lassoed. Wonder Woman yanked on the rope tight, swinging him down into the opposite wall. He really was tired of being walled by them. Batman was quick to cuff him as Superman froze him in place. Danny raised a tired brow, unamused. "Are we chill now?" "No." "Thought so." ---bit more talking. Danny navigating his way through the truth of the lasso before using his wail as his last ditch effort to escape. Manages to escape through the portal as the lab collapses.
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coffeeshopguest · 9 days
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please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!
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I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭
The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night
Word Count: 1569
Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott
Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex
It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 
What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 
"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 
Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 
"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 
Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 
"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 
Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 
Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 
Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 
"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 
Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"
 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."
"You...you're in?" 
Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 
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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 
"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 
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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 
So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 
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Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.
"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 
And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 
"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 
You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 
You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 
"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 
A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 
"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 
He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 
Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 
"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 
To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 
In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 
When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 
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fortheloveofkonig · 11 months
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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.
(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)
Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.
Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours
Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.
Word Count: 1085
TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader
Ghost
Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play
Doesn't believe him.
You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?
There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range
He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.
"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."
Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."
"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."
He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.
From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.
Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.
He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.
Soap
Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.
"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.
"Already wanting to see me strip?"
You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.
Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.
You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was
"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?
"My What?"
"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"
"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."
If looks could kill, he'd be dead.
That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.
Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.
You know a lot.
Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.
Gaz
He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?
This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.
When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.
"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."
"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.
"Any pain when you walk on it?"
"Possibly....yes."
"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."
It was just a sprain
Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.
Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
Price
Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed
Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.
He knows how soap and gaz the boys are
Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.
"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."
The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"
"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."
Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.
You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.
He agrees with you.
The rookie looks over at Price.
"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."
Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.
Roach
This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge
Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet
Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.
Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off
You don't let him
"You're limping, sit down."
He just waves it off, "'m good."
"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."
Does not stay.
You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.
You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.
"I'll rest right here."
"Good."
Stubborn but still okay with medical help
Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.
"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"
"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."
"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"
"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"
"..."
"Gary???"
You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.
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genericpuff · 21 days
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CHAD ANON-
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Alright so I've been meaning to post about this for a couple days, but we gotta talk about what's been going on in the /r/webtoons subreddit the last couple days.
Every now and then, the heavens part and an anonymous creator will descend with their experiences with Webtoons. And they're almost never good. And that's good in the long run, because that means we have more ammunition to support Webtoons being an ass platform that benefits no one :))
Obviously the anons here are risking a lot posting this sort of stuff, so before I go ahead, let it be known that I'm gonna try and keep speculating to a minimum and just touch on what anon has provided. When it comes down to it, this post hasn't been verified in any way, so it might not even be 100% real, though there's a lot of evidence to suggest it is based on the responses from other users that validate many of the points anon makes.
I will also mention that any opinion I have regarding the contract outside of what's been provided by anon is from reading other accounts from creators who have spoken up and just generally being a community member for a long time who's been around the bend and heard a lot of shit from Originals creators. I am not an Originals creator and I have never been offered any of these contracts.
So let's get into this!
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The contract 'evolving' over time was definitely something that a lot of us were at least semi-aware of, as it seems that a lot has changed since 2020 as verified by many creators who have spoken up on their contracts (or at least said what they could in light of the NDA's that WT uses to prevent them from saying anything). But I had no idea the extent to how far WT was going with it, how much they were trying to get away with. Automatically having the ability to buy 100% of the creator's IP? That is a huge, massive no-no. I've had some creators heavily imply to me in the past that they've sold off portions of their IP, but WT being given the automatic pass to buy 100% is severely unethical.
For anyone out of the loop, IP means Intellectual Property. It means whatever content is being made, it belongs to the person making it. Lore Olympus is Rachel Smythe's IP. City of Blank is 66's IP. Of course, copyright law gets dicier when it comes to stuff like fair use, trademarking, etc. but for the sake of this topic, IP just means "if you made it, you own it". Webtoons typically buys digital print rights, meaning if you sign on as an Originals, that means you can only post that comic that you sold to the Originals section. It doesn't mean you can't use other platforms for other comics, just that for the comic you sold, you have to post exclusively to Webtoons.
Webtoons is essentially trying to take that from creators by going "if you sign on as an Originals creator, you don't just lose your distribution rights, you lose all of your rights." They might still be able to run Canvas comics separate from Originals, but whatever they sold to Originals is no longer theirs to own. And the kicker is that it's, of course, for a very low fee. Buying out 100% of someone's IP should NOT come cheap, but WT is undoubtedly offering pennies in the hope that someone bites for that 'exclusive' Originals offer.
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This. This is a big one. I'm not a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure this is massively ILLEGAL.
Just like with the IP rights, creators should not automatically have their printing rights taken from them by a digital publisher. They can make offers, sure, but they can't force creators into giving up their rights for physical publishing when they themselves are not a physical publishing house. Some series do get physical prints through other publishers like Random House (ex. LO) but a digital printing platform should NOT be able to restrict the printing rights of a creator who has only sold their series for the purpose of digital distribution. Especially because, again, printing rights are usually sold for massive gains for the person selling them - not a portion of month's rent for people living in a shitty New York apartment in 2024. That is what Webtoons thinks your printing rights are worth.
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This is one that I've been very certain of for the past little while, particularly due to my past discussions regarding LO's merch. Because let's face it... it isn't good.
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But I don't hold Rachel accountable for this shit because she's not the one making it, it's almost certainly some in-house designer at Webtoons or some other third party through Random House Worlds. Sure, it says "By Rachel Smythe" but that's more so just for marketing at this point, because no one wants to buy merch made by Chuck the Penguin House merch guy.
Remember when I said LO's partnership with Inklore / Random House Worlds was gonna be purely for cheap merchandise in the realm of cookbooks and card decks?
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Yeah.
Point is, it's clear a lot of creators who are part of Webtoons' merch program may not even have any say or choice in the matter. Of course, I don't know what Rachel's contracts specifically are like, so I won't speculate on that too much, but there's a lot of evidence to suggest that she may not own as much of LO as she used to. She was definitely a part of the older contracts from 2018 at one point that didn't have the more predatory tacked on bullshit like the Minimum Revenue Threshold, but... she's renewed her contract since then. So it begs the question of how much LO has suffered not just on her account of being bad at managing a team and writing a long-form story, but at the hands of Webtoons dipping too much of their hands into her work.
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Oh look, another highly unethical if not outright illegal thing! Digital print publishers can't be your agent! Repeat after me -digital print publishers CANNOT be your agent! As anon explains here, it would make it far too easy for publishers to steer their creators into directions that only benefit the company. Agents are like lawyers for artists, their job is to protect writers, actors, artists, anyone who's trying to enter some kind of media industry. Most publishing agencies won't take unsolicited manuscripts for publishing, which means writers need agents who are willing to vouch for them and help them connect with publishers. Webtoons being the publisher AND the agent for creators... seriously, that's fucked up. It means Webtoons can direct creators to do whatever benefits the company itself, not the creator. But hey, we already knew that was the case as soon as we saw "Webtoon would be able to automatically buy 100% of your IP" LOL But if you needed more to support the sheer predatory audacity of Webtoons as a company, there it is.
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This is the sad reality for a lot of content creators. Comics aren't a new industry, but webcomics are and a lot of the people going into them are either extremely young or just never learned how to navigate the professional world. We talked about this issue last week and now here it is in action - a lot of creators don't even realize they're supposed to hire lawyers for contracts like these, and those who do... can't afford them.
And again, I'm very aware that this reddit post isn't exactly substantiated by anything beyond anon anecdote (such as a copy of the actual contract) but a couple other people in the thread who were offered contracts also came forward to express the similarities - and differences - between what they were offered and what OP was offered.
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(these responses are actually gone now but that's why we have the power of screenshotting as the thread was happening LMAO yay me)
This thread is also being discussed on Twitter:
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For those who are as old and falling apart as I am (/hj) and remember when Youtube was still coming into its own as a platform, what Webtoons is doing to webcomic creators is very similar to what businesses like MakerStudios did to Youtubers back in the day - signing creators into predatory contracts with the promise of fame and fortune, just to pull the rug out from under them with shit pay, shit management, and less perks than they had just doing it all on their own time and dime.
Webcomics, as a blooming industry, are now going through the same problem as Youtube did back in the late 2000's/early 2010's. No one knows how to navigate the industry. A lot of people and businesses don't even know how to profit off it, at least not sustainably (and for some platforms definitely not ethically). Very few people have come out of this industry with the money and fame they were seeking in the long-term, both because it's easy to burn out quickly but also because there is no long-term yet due to this being such a new industry... and those who have come out with those victories are often people who are still just pursuing the traditional comic publishing ways of glory, by seeking out agents, signing print deals, and doing everything that any other freelance or contracted comic creator would do, because it's safer and offers more structure than what webcomics are offering on their own. There are no regulations, no protections in place looking out for creators, it's basically just a free for all of young people looking to monetize their creations and businesses willing to take advantage of those people for a quick buck.
I don't think any of this means that webcomics have to be exclusively relegated to being a "stepping stone" for traditional print comics or grander media like film and television. They're a medium in and of themselves, a very accessible medium to boot, that welcomes anyone regardless of their status, technical skills, or background. They're wonderful for that and I think more people should be willing to give webcomics a try as a medium if they want to express themselves on their own terms.
But as I've talked about in the past time and time again, there's still going to be a separation between doing webcomics as a passion project or a hobby, and doing them as a profession. When it comes to the latter, you have to be willing to treat it professionally. You have to recognize that there will be those out there who will take advantage of you for money, because that's what the professional world is all about. This is unfortunately something a lot of creators just don't realize, because we're going through those same growing pains a lot of Youtubers have gone through (and still go through) - learning how to navigate our passion as a job, with all of the legal mess, dotted lines, and legal stipulations that come with it. And we're in the midst of that learning now, by seeing the actions of companies like Webtoons that only seek to exploit creators rather than foster them. It unfortunately will take more creators getting screwed over before anything changes. But we have to be willing to talk about it, every single time. We have to be willing to separate the creator and their own faults from the faults of the platform that's hosting them - a creator can be both lacking in their own skills as a creator as well as lacking in support which makes it impossible for them to hone those skills.
And yes, I say all of this because it concerns the criticisms I make of creators like Rachel Smythe. I think there are a lot of things she does that are indicative of her as a creator and her inability to act professionally in this industry, from LO's rampant misogyny and objectification of women to her own misfires when interacting with her fandom. But there are also just as many things that can be potentially traced back to the platform - it's hard to make better content when you're constantly being exploited and hung out to dry.
Like anon, I too hope that more creators will be willing to stand up and speak on behalf of themselves and their peers, to push back against these contracts. It's gonna suck. It's gonna be hard to want to make those moves when just about every creator is just trying to put food on the table. But for every anonymous creator who stands up and speaks, for every person who isn't willing to sign those contracts and talk about the reasons why, for every storyteller who uses their skills to spread the message, the power they have grows. We have to make it impossible for Webtoons to continue to ignore.
After all, it would be a real shame for more of these stories to come to light just as Webtoons is seeking an initial public offering in the stock market. Wouldn't that just be so unfortunate for them? :)
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inklessletter · 9 months
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Congratulations, first of all, for reaching the milestone 💐💐💐 you deserve every single follower, and then some. Your art is always so pretty and I love how you bring us along during your process.
Secondly, would you like to make art based on this fic of mine? I'm thinking right at the beginning, when Eddie falls to his knees on stage and he and Steve have their "moment".
Thank you for hosting this fanart party ❤️
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Steve tilts his head, and Eddie prepares for a kiss. He gets no lips, only tongue; Steve licks his mouth, from one corner to the other.
🎸🎸🎸
@2btheanswertothequestion
This one was SO MUCH FUN TO DO. I had trouble finding good references for the ambiance, but I love the result. Please, go read the fic, it's so good.
I know that I don't know many of the users that sent me requests a few weeks ago, but I've got a tiny story to tell about this one (I'm getting to know you little by little and I'm falling for every single one of you, you talented fuckers). They are the reason I am in Tumblr. It happens that I created an account many months ago, and didn't know how to use this, I just clicked "follow" to the tags and the blogs ST/Steddie related that posted fics and arts, and on my way to work, in the bus, I read the first chapter of a fanfic that made lose my stop (literally, I got late to the office that day).
Sad thing is the next time I opened the app, the fic was gone. I just remembered a few things and god knows that the search bar in this site works... well, works. Sometimes. I couldn't find it. I made it my personal goal to actually find this fic again, and this user, whose name I didn't catch because, again, I didn't know how to use Tumblr. This user pulled a full Cinderella on me, reading with intent every fic until the shoe fit. And I found it by mere coincidence, because they posted the third part, and I was like "WAIT IS THIS IT?". And it was it.
In the meanwhile, I actually completed my account, like you know, trying not to make it look like a bot (that I learned that it was a bad thing that could get me blocked), I put a profile picture, I made it decent, I learned how to use Tumblr (a bit). So, you see. This user, my beloved @2btheanswertothequestion is the one to blame that I actually stuck in this place. If you're wondering which one was the fic that got me so hooked up it was November Paramedic. (Here the AO3 link). Go read it, you're gonna love it.
(I'm kinda mad that they didn't asked me to draw the actual picture of the calendar, though. I have some ideas, I might draw it the future, because when I say that I hold this fic very close to my heart, I mean it.)
I really, really hope you like it, I worked hard on it and I did this with every bit of love stored in my heart ❤️❤️❤️
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demodraws0606 · 3 months
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What Cyberpunk DeadBoy Means and What it's Potentially Foreshadowing (aka very complicated analysis that makes a lot of sense and could happen depending on how colorpalet is feeling while writing the story)
Now I'm seeing so many people like running around wondering what this event could mean for the future for multiple reasons and like I've made like one post throwing my hat into the ring.
I've been frustrated with people's unwillingness to realise that this comm is prob foreshadowing because this is not the first time Colorpalet has hidden foreshadowing into comms weither subtely or not
Exemple's being :
-Akito's second comm foreshadowing his third event
-Lower's cover art literally foreshadowing what would happen to Mafuyu's phone in her event
-88 vocals being emurui and nenekasa foreshadowing the kind of dynamic the disbandement arc had with nenekasa wanting to move forward with emurui being scared of isolation
-Probably way better exemples that I forgot
I've seen people make Some assumptions which I don't agree with but there is one thing I think is true
There is 100 pourcent gonna be struggle between corporation/reality and WxS.
Purely because that's been WxS's entire theme since the beginning. They constantly bash you over the head with the theme of compromising with reality and the importance of dreams. In fact the pick of Maiki-P is not at all surprising as he basically has the same message WxS has just... well harsher.
The Big thing people have ignored however is by focusing on the lyrics, they've ignored something that's personally to me even more telling and that's the line distribution
We know for a fact colorpalet loves to mess around with line distribution, weither it's to make characters say lines that fit them or to kind of foreshadow their headspace.
Now something Big happens with the line distribution of Cyberpunk Deadboy that i've seen NO ONE notice and that's in the last chorus (that and also Tsukasa's lines which people have pointed out but it works less on it's own which is why I'm gonna analyse his lines afterwards).
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This is the only time the chorus is like that, the others have a much more even distribution.
In fact the distribution choice makes it look like the rest of WxS is Talking to Rui.
It's even more evident considering the lines they chose to make WxS sing compared to only just Rui
Emu/Tsukasa/Nene saying kimi (you)
Rui saying boku (i)
Which honestly makes me think this is colorpalet foreshadowing some kind of issue reguarding specifically Rui. Remember Emu's second event ? The story of Rilley whose imagination was crippled by the industry to the point where he didn't really have any artistic vision until Emu's grandpa helped him.
In fact remember how the flashback that showcases that has Rilley working on a film
Now we get to Tsukasa's line which have been pointed out to be kind of sus but it's not just his lines.
Tsukasa refuses to sing with Rui (unless it's a line they all sing together but i consider those exceptions). In fact pretty much everyone has a duo line with each other except those two.
In fact in the section where Rui has duo lines with everybody, Tsukasa is the only one he doesnt sing with and the visuals make it clear that it's something that we're supposed to find strange
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And then we of course have Tsukasa's solo lines
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Tsukasa is the only one that say "fuzakeruna" outside of Rui (of course ignoring entire group WxS lines) and i've seen some people pointed out how it sounds like he's saying it in response to Rui's lines. Which I agree with.
Then we got his big boy solo lines
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These lines will make more sense with my theory/analysis but right now if we go with the idea that WxS in the last chorus were speaking to Rui and Tsukasa in this comm refuses to sing with Rui then this implies those lines are Tsukasa speaking to Rui.
And this is where the insanity begins because people have pointed out a concerning trend with Ruikasa that I know some people use for shipping fuel but for me kinda feels more so like foreshadowing.
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IGNORING all the ARG ass weirdness of the Fixer 2dmv, this choice to switch Ruikasa's colors have to mean something in my opinion outside of just wholesome shipping influence especially considering the two songs they do this are less than jovial.
What this kind of color switching signifies to me is that, Ruikasa somehow are/or will switch places.
And with that let me bring back Tsukasa's lines
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These lines stand out because Tsukasa before remembering his dreams was extremely shallow only doing things for fame and probably the money that would come with it.
Now if you think about everything I've layed out I think you can gain a pretty clear picture.
Of Rui falling into the trap Rilley did, becoming jaded and losing the true motivation of his dream (or at least starting to have doubts). Becoming stuck with the struggle of managing dreams and reality.
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Rui's costume even has a mask which can be a metaphor for his artistic voice and individuality being silenced .
Which now you get into the line distribution where WxS is implied to be talking to Rui.
And you get to Tsukasa, who is refusing to sing with Rui and in fact seems to be arguing with Rui if we really want to overthink it. In fact almost switching their roles from the main story.
Because Tsukasa has grown now and how else to show that growth than to switch Rui and Tsukasa's perspectives/roles.
Now how this would happen really depends since there are multiple ways they can go about it with the time they have.
There is obviously mystery dude dude (who i know now is sakaki) who still gives me bad vibes. However there is actually two way they can make mystery dude trigger this sort of plot :
-Mystery dude is malicious and actively manipulates/confronts Rui to make him rethink his worldview
-Mystery dude isn't malicious but instead is just jaded/has been through a lot of industry bullshit which ends up rubbing off on Rui accidentally
But you can even just not have mystery dude involved with this at all (which i doubt but still) because you know what loose plotpoint is still lingering over WxS, fucking Asahi
Rui still has not talked about Asahi to WxS, in fact Curtain Call ends on an explicit cliffhanger which is never really emotionally concluded (at least in Rui's own events, technically the arc ender did but there are still a lot of loose threads from that arc). Why would Colorpalet make Asahi come back after Rui graduates, they could've just had him disappear into the sunset but instead they hint at his potential comeback.
Unless Rui will be forced to again confront similar feelings he did during Curtain Call this time with possibly an added layer of whatever happens during WxS's freelance arc.
Anyways yeah this is overly complicated but then again colorpalet is not being easy with us so...yeah.
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starlight-write · 1 month
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Bad idea
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A/N: Yeah...it's been six months since I've even touched this blog but I have a new hyperfixation so here we are. Kind of wrote this in a daze but let me know what you think, as well as any other prompts or requests you'd like to see!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Ler!Alastor, Lee!Angeldust, Switch!Charlie (All Platonic)
Summary: Angel somehow convinces Charlie to pull a prank on Alastor. Neither are prepared for the consequences this will have.
Warnings: Tickling, Swearing, Mild sex jokes
Word Count: 2145
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Yeah this was a bad idea.
Rapid footsteps could be heard booming down the hallways of the hotel as Charlie and Angeldust found themselves running for their lives away from one of the most powerful overlords in Hell.
Charlie couldn't quite say what possessed her to get involved with one of Angeldust's pranks, maybe it was boredom or a desire to bond with her friend, but common sense should've told her to back out once Angel named their target.
It was no secret the Radio Demon had a soft spot for his favorite dish which he cooked at the same time each day without fail.
It was also no secret that the demon's oral hygiene was...lacking.
No matter how many times he was informed of this fact, politely or otherwise, Alastor just did not seem to care about keep that particular area clean.
So of course, when the spider demon suggested the two of them mix toothpaste in with the demon's jambalaya, Charlie knew the deal was too hilarious to pass up.
The look on the demon's face when he came back to see that his food had turned blue was priceless.
Yeah, a bad idea, but hilarious nonetheless.
Or it would be until the demon had caught up to them at least.
Neither of them thought the demon would actually hurt them over something like this, seeing as it would hurt his own goals in the long run, but they weren't too keen on finding out what he would do instead.
The pair stopped abruptly at the end of the hallway in front of the only other elevator on that floor. Angeldust crouched and frantically pressed the down button, while Charlie's dumbass was trying to pry the doors open.
"You're seriously telling me you didn't have a better escape plan than just yelling 'Run'?"
"Hey, I didn't actually think we'd make it as far as actually getting into that creep's room. The plan was to at least be able to outrun you but you're a lot faster than I would've thought, Princess." The spider chucked.
The girl's jaw dropped at hearing that. "I thought this stupid prank was a chance for us to bond! You were just going to ditch me to take the fall for your stupid idea?!?!"
The elevator chimed as the doors opened.
"Yeah, pretty much." The spider chuckled as he jumped inside.
Betrayal and a bit of anger filled the girl as her eyes went red and horns grew on top of her head. She grunted as she tackled her friend inside the elevator, doors closing behind her.
Angel grunted as he hit the ground. "Aww, did I make the pretty princess mad? I don't see what the big deal is, whatever that red freak has planned, he'll go a lot easier on you." The demon said as he smiled up at his friend.
"Yeah, well you're gonna wish you'd stayed behind once I'm through with you."
With that, the girl began skittering her fingers rapidly underneath the spider's arms.
Whatever smartass remark Angel was going to say next died in his throat and was replaced with hysterical laughter as his worst spot was targeted.
"aaa-AAH! AHAHA-Charlie! CHARLIHEHEHEHAHA!!! WAHAHAHIT!! Wait- DONT- AHAHAHAA!!!" The spider demon cried out as he began kicking his legs viciously.
Charlie had been meaning to test her friend's sensitivity for a while now. She had seen how small touches and pokes affected her friend from time to time. She'd noticed when Husk began giving quick pinches to the spider's ribs whenever he mad a dirty joke or was becoming too much for the cat to handle. Or when her girlfriend used a pen to poke around the spider's torso whenever she needed to herd him away from something. She especially noticed how Angel's face contorted each time as he fought to suppress his smile. Charlie had been waiting for the longest time to ask the demon about it, or test her theory herself. Y'know... to bond.
So yeah, Angel had this coming for a while now.
So focused on her revenge, neither her or Angel noticed the elevator open to the main floor, where Alastor was waiting patiently for the two of them right outside the entrance.
"Well well well, seems the two little troublemakers have turned on each other already, how fun!" The demon grinned evilly before conjuring up a pair of tentacles to yank the pair out of the elevator.
The two of them yelped as they were dragged from their hiding spot and held midair by the appendages.
Alastor looked the two of them up and down, eye twitching as he did so. "So...it's clear to me that you two heathens are looking for a death sentence, which I am more than happy to provide. But before I get to teaching the two of you a lesson, I am curious who's genius idea it was to mess with the Radio Demon in the first place."
"Mine!" Angel exclaimed proudly. Earning a confused look from Charlie.
"What? He clearly thought my idea was good, obviously I want credit for it." Smug bastard. Alastor did not seem amused with his confession however, Angel's comment actually seeming to have annoyed him even further.
"I thought so." The demon said. "I'd expect this level of childishness from someone like you, although I'm thankful it wasn't of a more perverted nature. However..." He turned his focus to Charlie who was still trying to wriggle her way out of the grip the appendage had around her waist.
"I expected much more from you, Charlie. Why I'd go as far to say I'm disappointed in you."
She felt a pang in her chest at hearing the demon's words.
"No, Alastor...I'm sorry if we upset you. I just thought it would be a bit of harmless fun! And Angel never asks to do anything with me so I got a bit excited. I'm sorry."
A frown quickly replaced Angel's smug grin and he averted his gaze to the floor.
Alastor couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them. "Oh you two are so sweet...it makes me sick. But how could I not accept such a heartfelt apology coming from my favorite hostess?"
The two perked up almost immediately.
"So...we're off the hook?" Angel asked hopefully.
Alastor fiddled with his staff as if bored by this whole conversation. "Well, seeing that neither of you are getting maimed today, I'd say yes...to an extent."
"To an extent?" The princess asked.
"Well I still have to teach the two of you a lesson somehow. No one messes with the Radio Demon and gets away with it." He smiled. "However, I do believe Charlie here has given me a wonderful idea how to do that~"
She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean by-AAAAAAAA!!"
Charlie let out a shriek as she felt something wriggle on the back of her knee. She looked down to see a much smaller tentacle scribbling along the dreaded spot. She began kicking her legs out desperately only to be stopped by two more tentacles holding them in place.
The attack quickly threw the girl into hysterics, the one tentacle already throwing her into a frenzy. Screaming and whipping her head side to side, she pushed and pounded her fists against the appendage retraining her, trying and failing to reach down to stop the offending tentacle that was honing in on her worst spot.
Angeldust couldn't help but laugh at her dramatic reaction. Although, he wasn't too keen on getting his shit wrecked again. Thinking he could use his charm to smooth-talk his way out of this situation, seeing as the demon avoided him like the plague if he could talk dirty enough.
"You guys are full of surprises today, arent'cha?" He said using his little flirtatious tone, knowing it annoyed Alastor to no end. "I'm proud your old ass is finally experimenting, dust nuts. I'm more than happy to help you explore with bondage but I can't say I'm all that into this tickling stuff."
The demon turned to him and grinned evilly. "Oh, good! That's exactly what I was afraid of."
Yeah, bad idea.
Angel's wrists were snatched up by yet another appendage before two more attacked his underarms for the second time that day.
"GAHAHAHAHAHAD OKAY!! OKAY CUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOUT!!"
Angel screamed, trying with all his power to pull his arms down but it was no use, the radio demon had the two of them completely and hopelessly trapped.
Alastor just hummed, pressing a hand to his chin and pretended to think. "Don't think you two have learned your lesson quite yet. Although, I am new to this particular method. Hows about I ask an expert. Oh Charlie~" He turned to the princess again. "Do tell me, how effective would you say is tickling your enemies into submission?"
The poor girl couldn't even get a word out between her screaming fits of laughter. All she could do was shake her head and pound her fists against her restraints as the back of her knee was tickled mercilessly.
"AAHAHAHAHA- STAHAHAAAAAA- ALASTAAAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHE-"
Alastor leaned in with one hand cupping his ear. "What's that? I'm sorry, I couldn't quite understand. I don't speak heathen, after all." He teased. "Angeldust would you mind interpreting?"
Angel began to lose himself in his own fit of hysterics as yet another one of the tentacles found its way to his stomach, scribbling wildly.
Although he was tempted to sprout his extra sets of arms, Angel has been in enough tickle fights with Cherri to know that underneath those arms would be exploited as well and just make the agonizing feeling ten times worse.
It took a lot more work for Angel to reach the same level of hysterics Charlie was currently in. Even with the three tentacles making him laugh his head off, Angel would say he was still holding out better than he normally would. At least compared to Charlie, who wasn't even fully restrained but was still completely losing her mind just from that one spot.
Alastor noticed this as well and seeing as anything more would probably make the poor girl faint, he focused his attention on Angeldust.
"You still feeling smart? Tell me, you still think your little genius idea was worth the trouble?"
The demon conjured up yet another pair of tentacles to poke and prod at his victim before they settled on attacking the demon's thighs instead.
Whatever control Angeldust thought he'd maintained before disappeared immediately. The merciless tickling in three different areas proved too much for him to handle.
"NOOHOHOHO- NO! I DOHOHOHON'T! I'M SORRYHEHEHEHEHE- I PROHOHOMISE IT WON"T HAHAHAPPEN AGAHAHAHAIN!!!"
"Good enough."
And with that, the tickling stopped. The tentacles carefully setting Charlie on the ground and disappearing while Angeldust was unceremoniously dropped midair.
Charlie huffed and hugged her legs to her chest, residual laughter still wracking her body.
Angeldust peeled his face off the ground and tried to recover from the torture as well.
"Well, I certainly hope that little lesson drilled something useful into your skulls. It's almost as if you act like children, you'll be treated as such. you, Charlie for that wonderful new torture tactic." He said smiling down at his victims.
Angeldust huffed and brushed himself off as he finally stood up. "Yeah, yeah. I'm glad you found something that gets your dick hard, just remember that consent is key before you go around fucking people up. I mean look at Charlie, you practically killed her." He said, gesturing to his friend who was still lying on the floor.
The demon let out a short laugh as he looked at the girl. Alastor snapped his fingers and a glass of water appeared beside Charlie's corpse.
"Well this certainly was an entertaining bonding activity." He said, turning to Angeldust once more.
"Just remember, I won't be as forgiving the next time you decide to pull a stunt like this." The demon said, finally before making his way back down the hall.
"If you took care of that rancid breath I wouldn't have too!" Angel shouted.
"Smells better than the musk you track in after one of your little shoots!"
Angeldust flipped the demon off as he watched him disappear down the hallway.
Eh, he's got a point. He thought to himself and looked down at his friend who was still in a fetal position on the floor.
Charlie had finally caught her breath and turned over on her back. Angel crouched down to inspect the damage.
"You alive?" He asked, giving her a soft punch on her arm.
The princess just glared at him and stuck a finger in his face.
"I am never listening to your dumbass again." She declared, earning another laugh from her friend.
"Yeah, that was a bad idea."
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spacedace · 9 months
Text
Reluctant War AU Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol
Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.
Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3
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Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.
Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.
She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.
It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.
Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.
It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.
Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.
When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.
Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.
Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.
The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.
She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.
Then she got to work.
The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.
It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.
Things had been going smoothly.
For a time at least.
Until Phantom.
He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.
And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.
An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.
It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.
It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.
Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.
She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.
She had time.
Until she didn’t.
Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.
If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.
He was King Infinite.
He was an Ancient.
He was getting on her last damn nerves.
Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.
Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.
But no.
No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.
Phantom knew what they were there to do.
They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.
Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.
There could be no peace.
The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.
Amanda Waller was not.
The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.
By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.
The weapons labs.
The artifact.
The girl.
All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.
The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.
It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.
She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.
She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.
Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.
Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.
---
Part Four
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