#analyzing characters via their clothing

[tangibletechnomancy]

The (Personal) Is (Political)

~7 hours, Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, generated under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

Or, Dear Microsoft and OpenAI: Your Filters Can't Stop Me From Saying Things: An interactive exercise in why all art is political and game of Spot The Symbols

A rare piece I consider Fully Finished simply as a jpeg, though I may do something physical with it regardless. "Director commentary" below, but I strongly encourage you to go over this and analyze it yourself before clicking through, then see how much your reading aligns with my intent.

Elements I told the model to add and a brief (...or at least inexhaustive) overview of why:

Anime style and character figures - Frequently associated with commercial "low" art and consumer culture, in East Asia and the English-speaking world alike, albeit in different ways - justly or otherwise. There is frequently an element of racism to the denigration of anime styles in the west; nearly any American artist who has taken formal illustration classes can tell you a story of being told that anime style will only hinder them, that no one will hire them if they see anime, or even being graded more harshly and scrutinized for potential anime-esque elements if they like anime or imply that they may like anime - including just by being Asian and young. On the other hand, it is true that there is a commercial strategy of "slap an anime girl on it and it will sell". The passion fans feel for these characters is genuine - and it is very, very exploitable. In fact, this commercialization puts anime styles in particular in a very contentious position when it comes to AI discussions!

Dark-skinned boy with platinum and pink [and blue] hair - Racism and colorism! They're a thing, no matter how much the worst people in the world want you to think they're long over and "critical race theory" is the work of evil anti-American terrorists! I chose his appearance because I knew that unless I was incredibly lucky, I would have to fight with this model for multiple hours to get satisfactory results on this point in particular - and indeed I did. It was an interesting experience - what didn't surprise me was how much work it took me to get a skin color darker than medium-dark tan; what did surprise me was that the hair color was very difficult to get right. In anime art, for dark skin to be matched with light hair and eyes is common enough to be...pretty problematic. Bing Image Creator/Dall-E, on the other hand, swings completely in the opposite direction and struggles with the concept of giving dark-skinned characters any hair color OTHER than black, demanding pretty specific phrasing to get it right even 70% of the time. (I might cynically call this yet another illustration against the pervasive copy-paste myth...) There is also much to say about the hair texture and facial features - while I was pleased to see that more results than I expected gave me textured hair and/or box braids without me asking for it, those were still very much in the minority, and I never saw any deviation from the typical anime facial structures meant to illustrate Asian and white characters. Not even once!

Pink and blue color palette - Our subject is transgender. Bias self-check time: did you make that association as quickly as you would with a light-skinned character, or even Sylveon?

Long hair, cute clothes, lots of accessories - Styling while transmasc is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation, doubly so if you're not white. In many locations, the medical establishment and mainstream attitude demands total conformity to the dominant culture's standard conventional masculinity, or else "revoking your man card" isn't just a joke meant to uphold the idea that men are "better" than women, but a very real threat. In many queer communities, especially online, transmascs are expected to always be cute femboys who love pink (while transfems are frequently degraded and seen as threats for being butch), and being Just Some Guy is viewed as inherently a sign of assimilationism at best and abusiveness at worst. It is an eternal tug-of-war where "cuteness" and ornamentation are both demanded and banned at the same time. Black and brown people are often hypermasculinized and denied the opportunity to even be "cute" in the first place, regardless of gender. Long hair and how gender is read into it is extremely culture-dependent; no matter what it means to you, if anything, the dominant culture wherever you are will read it as it likes.

Trophies and medals - For one, the trans sports Disk Horse has set feminism back by nearly 50 years; I'm barely a Real History-Remembering Adult and yet I clearly remember a time when the feminist claim about gender in sports was predominantly "hey, it's pretty fucked up that sports are segregated by sex rather than weight class or similar measures, especially when women's sports are usually paid much less and given weirdly oversexualized uniforms," but then a few loud living embodiments of turds in the punch bowl realized that might mean treating trans people fairly and now it's super common for self-proclaimed feminists - mostly white ones - to claim that the strongest woman will still never measure up to the weakest man and this is totally a feminist statement because they totally want to PROTECT women (with invasive medical screenings on girls as young as 12 to prove they're Really Women if they perform too well, of course). For two, Black and brown people are stereotyped as being innately more sporty, physically strong, and, again, Masculine(TM) than others, which frequently intersects with item 1...and if you think it only affects trans women, I am sorry my friend but it is so much worse and more extensive than you think.

Hearts - They mean many things. Love. Happiness. Cuteness. Social media engagement?

TikTok - A platform widely known and hated around these parts for its arcane and deeply regressive algorithm; I felt it deserved to be name/layout/logodropped for reasons that, if they're not clear already, should become so in the final paragraph.

Computers, cameras and cell phones - My initial specification was that one of the phones should be on Instagram and another on TikTok, which the model instead chose to interpret as putting a TikTok sticker on the laptop, but sure, okay. They're ubiquitous in the modern day, for better and for worse. For all the debate over whether phones and social media are Good For Us or Bad For Us, the fact of the matter is, they seem to be a net positive-to-neutral, whose impacts depend on the person - but they do still have major drawbacks. The internet is a platform for conspiracy theories and pseudoscience and dangerous hoaxes to spread farther than ever before. Social media culture leaves many people feeling like we're always being watched and every waking moment of our lives must be Perfect - and in some senses, we are always being watched these days. Digital privacy is eroding by the day, already being used to enforce all the most unjust laws on the books, which leads to-

Pigs - I wrote the prompt with the intention that it would just be a sticker on the laptop, but instead it chose to put them everywhere, and given that I wanted to make a somewhat stealthy statement about surveillance, especially of the marginalized...thanks for that, Dall-E! ;)

Alligators - A counter to the pigs; a short-lived antifascist symbol after...this.

Details I did not intend but love anyway:

The blue in the hair - I only prompted for platinum and pink in the hair, but the overall color palette description "bled" over here anyway, completing the trans flag, making it even more blatant, and thus even more effective as a bias self-check.

The Macbook - I only specified a laptop. Hilariously ironic, to me, that a service provided through Bing interpreted "laptop" as "Macbook" nearly every time. In my recent history, 22 out of 24 attempts show, specifically, a Macbook. Microsoft v. OpenAI divorce arc when? ;) But also, let us not forget Apple's role in the ever-worsening sanitization of the internet. A Macbook with a TikTok sticker (or, well, a Tiikok sticker - recognizable enough) - I can think of little more emblematic of one of the main things I was complaining about, and it was a happy accident. Or perhaps an unhappy one, considering what it may imply about Apple's grip on culture and communications.

Which brings me to my process:

Generated over ~7 hours with Dall-E 3 through Bing Image Creator - The most powerful free tool out there for txt2img these days, as well as a nightmare of filters and what may be the most disgustingly, cloyingly impersonal toxic positivity I've ever witnessed from a tool. It wants to be Art(TM), yet it wants to ban Politics(TM); two things which are very much incompatible - and so, I wanted to make A Controversial Statement using only the most unflaggable, innocuous elements imaginable, no matter how long it took.

All art is political. All life is political. All our "defaults" are cultural, and therefore political. Anything whatsoever can be a symbol.

If you want all art to be a substance-free "look at the pretty picture :)" - it doesn't matter how much you filter, buddy, you've got a big storm coming.

[alice-jem]

My headcanons after watching all Fionna and Cake episodes//

• Simon adopts Astrid as his own daughter and they used to make stories together

• Marceline invites Simon at her wedding with PB

• Simon renovating next beside to Astrid's house

• Simon will tell everything about his adventures with Fionna and Cake to Adult Finn, PB and Marceline (and they couldn't believe Simon what he has been trying to say)

• Fionna is having a long distance relationship with Simon or become as Pen Pals via texting with interdimensional phones (and thru telepathy); Simon realized that having a long distance with somebody wasn't so bad in order to stop being so clingy like he's always clinging into Betty before and they gotta rather enjoy themselves living their best lives

• DJ Flame got Female Fern pregnant

• Marshall Lee always buys Ice Cream Lady's ice creams

• Gary plays sudoku, othello, chess, snakes and ladders like any board games with Beatrice Butler at the Buttery Buns Bakery

• Gary and Marshall share beds and clothes together

• Cake and the Flying Squirrel hang out frequently

• Human Monochromicorn likes to pet Cake everytime Fionna and Cake visits at the Candy Store

• Minerva helped Simon checking is health daily then scanning throughout his mind and analyze the magic created along what's inside with a universe of F&C

• Farmworld Finn survives!

• Our Finn and Huntress Wizard plans to have a family

• HIPSTER SIMON!!

• Root Beer Guy and everyone in the bar singing Cheers intro with Simon

• Jay and Little Destiny having cute dates and tries to shoplift together on a shopping mall

• Hunter watches and stalks Fionna when she was nerby at the garden

• Fionna and Cake getting friendship bracelets made by dandelions, mixed-candy flavors and bubblegums

• Scarab enjoys Prismo's newly created fanfic stories

• Golbetty museum in Fionna's world

• MORE SHERMY AND BETH SKITS

• Finn visits Jake's grave with Marcy Simon PB, Lady Rainicorn and Jake's children

Praying to God that Fionna and Cake will gonna have a season 2 or more seasons to come because there's alot of cliffhangers and feel this story isn't clearly done. It's just the end of one character arc within Simon.

[liyawritesss]

ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴇɪᴠᴏʀ ᴠᴀʀɪɴꜱᴅᴏᴛᴛɪʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Eivor Varinsdottir(Female Data String) x Black!Fem!Reader

From: Assassin's Creed: Valhalla

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: When the Jarlskona of Raventhorpe sets her eyes upon you, there is virtually nothing you can do to sway her affection. What would a courtship with Eivor Wolf-Kissed entail?

Warnings: fem!data stream!eivor, cursing, game-canon violence, mentions of injuries and wound dressing

A/N: Started playing AC: Valhalla and honestly? Ubisoft don’t miss when it comes to this franchise. It’s been out for a bit now and it seems to be a bit dry out there, so allow me to feed the blk eivor lovers out there

Tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @niyahwrites

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First and foremost, Eivor is an intense lover. There are no if, ands or buts about that. She’s lost everything and worked to regain it all back; her honor, her respect; and if she chooses you to be her lady, then best believe it was a choice made precisely.

You joined Ravensthorpe via trade - you were a fine seamstress looking for a settlement to call home. As you had a skill that could benefit yourself and the settlement, Eivor allowed your transition into the camp. She was impressed by your craftsmanship and with another winter closing in, the town would need all the best weaving and sewing it could get to brace for it.

After your first initial meeting, there were only fleeting moments of which the two of you would greet each other and talk. You were a joy to be around, always sporting a simple smile and engaging in Eivor’s jokes and combatting her sarcasm with your own. You were one of few people who could keep up with her and it sparked a friendship between the two of you.

Though you’d always had an eye for the jarlskona since your arrival - and honestly, who could blame you; the woman was large and brooding, carrying an air of mystery and absolute dominance while simultaneously being a comfort to you - there was a level of hierarchy that had to be maintained. Yes, she was attractive, but she was also your leader.

This is definitely a situation where one person falls first and the other falls harder. And while both of you are good at hiding your feelings (or maybe it’s just both of you are oblivious to the other’s affections), there was no denying that something was there.

Eivor’s realization of her affections comes when she receives her cloak back from you. She had asked you to repair it, as someone had ripped it pretty badly during a raid, because it was her favorite and she never left the settlement without it. It’s through Valka that you learn that the cloak is the last thing she has of her mother who was killed right in front of her when she was young. And while there was very little left of the original cloak to work with, you came up with a brilliant idea that you prayed wouldn’t end in her yelling at you for it.

You’d been wanting to make her a new one anyway, and with the torn one being the right shade of light brown you needed, you decided to use it on the hem and edges of the cloak, thickening it so that the frigid winter air wouldn’t make it through as easily. A wolf pelt was also sewn as the collar for the cloak, and hidden underneath it was a regular hood for when the cold was too much to bear in the face.

It was a fairly simple design, really, fortified by an extra layer of cloth for the cold, but to Eivor, it meant everything. When you handed it to her, she took her time analyzing your handiwork, tracing the edges and the hem of the cloak where it would meet at her chest, remembering the times her mother would hug her from behind in the same manner. Enveloping her in warmth, protecting her from harm.

There was a thudding in her chest that wouldn’t quiet until she returned to the longhouse. It was heavy and loud and unlike any emotion she had ever felt before. It couldn't be compared to the feeling of near-death, nor the ignorant bliss that came from downing endless horns of ale. She wished she could have figured it out on her own what the heaviness in her chest meant whenever she looked at you, but it took Randvi, her brother’s widow, to tell Eivor that she liked you more as just a friend. Whether she wanted to pursue something further than that, however, would be something she had to figure out alone.

In the weeks approaching winter you’d actually been working with Valka in learning skills to be a healer. She’d predicted that this winter would be bad with a lot of sickness, injuries, and deaths. Unfortunately, she was correct. Her cabin became overrun with injured raiders, and of course, Eivor was amongst the ranks.

Valka suggested that since Eivor had some pretty severe injuries (not to mention a history of hallucinations and visions she’d informed you on), that Eivor should be taken care of by you in the longhouse. It took a little bit of convincing of both you and Eivor (though once the healing salve had been applied to her injuries and she’d drunk a brew Valka made, Eivor couldn't put up much of a fight while she was asleep), but nevertheless, you’d started taking care of Eivor in the comfort of her room. To this day, you aren’t sure if she knew what she was doing when she suggested this arrangement, but you’ve always had your suspicions. They don’t call a wise woman wise for nothing.

Weeks went by and Eivor was making a steady recovery, having regained much of her strength and was able to move around on her own now. SO you started coming around less often, which saddened her. One night, while you were cleaning and redressing her nasty shoulder wound, she pointed out the exhaustion that plagued your face and asked you if it would make things easier if you spent the night, and to be truthful in your response.

You admitted that it would be easier, but you had no sleeping clothes and you would have had to travel across the settlement to get them anyway. Eivor offered up one of her shirts a bit too eagerly, though quickly covered it up with an ‘it’s what friends do’, which was a painful statement to say because after being taken care of a dotted on by you for the past few weeks, it became increasingly clear for her that she wanted more than just friendship.

She still doesn’t know what officially solidified it for her, but the moment she sees you in her linen shirt, a particularly large one that hung slightly off shoulder and created a pretty contrast against your dark skin, glowing against the candlelight that flickers throughout the room, she makes up her mind that she will ask you to be hers before the night is over with.

Eivor is no stranger to having to be quick-witted in timely situations, and this is no different. She formulates how she will pose the question to you, shuffling through different starting points, trying to also hold a steady resolve so that she can actually get to the question and not chicken out when things get hot.

Which is exactly what almost happens when you ask to take down her braids that she’s had in for god knows how long, too fixated on healing to really notice her hair needed attention as well. And when she’s met with your hands in her hair, it takes every fiber of her vikingr being to not lose focus.

You’re standing in front of her while she sits on the edge of the bed. You’re rebraiding the two side pieces she normally has in, and there’s talk of the events that happened in your day while you were out before you came to check in on her. You end up moving a certain way that causes you to lose your balance, you almost fall on top of her but she catches you before you do. A crisis averted…

…and yet her hands dont leave your hips. Eivor tries to pull them away, she really does, but she can’t help that they feel right being on your sides. And when you lock eyes the intensity of the atmosphere and in your stares all but thickens, and suddenly Eivor is at a loss of any words she thought she was gonna speak.

Eivor is a skilled warrior, hardened on the battlefield, mind sharpened from years of training and discipline, but it’s the slightest nudge you give her when you lean forward, when you’re looking down at her with your pretty eyes and full lips slightly parted, when you seemingly melt into her hands - its then that every resolve she has falls through the cracks, and she pulls you onto her lap, and kisses you through the searing pain that courses through her shoulder when she encourages you to straddle her.

Eivor is an intense lover. She does properly ask to court you, after catching her breath from the mindblowing kiss she’d stolen from you, and from then on, there’s not a doubt in anyone's mind who has the jarlskona’s favor. She prides herself in having you as her Lady, wanting to spoil you with the riches at her disposal but understands if being dressed up isn’t you’re cup of tea. She grants you the same respect that is expected to be given to her - you are her equal, and she will love you with everything she has until Odin calls her to Valhalla.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[almadesarrollo]

MLB SEASON 6 FELINETTE'S BIG TRACK IN JEREMY ZAG'S VIDEO (new Miraculous scenarios via Instagram) ANALYSIS AND FELINETTE CLUES FOR S6 PART 3 marinette's balcony : THE BALLS AND color symbology

PART 2 marinette's balcony : flowers and HYDRANSIAS.

2 BALL: the balls of light have undergone a color change, here you have a scheme AND their color palette and order.

Ok, we can see that the balls are not placed like that because yes, if not, there is a color pattern that repeats, both on one balcony and on the other, before analyzing the color pattern, which says a lot, we have to think about what it represents in Yes the balls on Marinette's balcony.

For me it is clear, they represent her self-love and her ability to shine.

Let's look at the two characteristics, 1 they are round and the circle or mole is the figure that represents Marinette, it is in everything, her aesthetics, her clothes, her design and of course in ladybug since this is a pattern typical of ladybugs. This speaks to us about her, her self-love and her way of being,

2 these give light, which tells us that Marinette is a soul of light, a pure soul, they shine in the night which tells us that even in the DARKEST moments of life Marinette is able to move forward and shine.

NOW LET'S GET TO THE MOST IMPORTANT THING, THE COLOR PATTERN.

1 PATTERN SEASONS 1-5

Well, each color represents a character and from there we get clues, right? That is why as we look at the order we have, white, yellow, hot pink, red, light green and start again. What does each one represent?

- white: kagami and tsuguri are in all their aesthetics, but it is also representative of marinette, which tells us that part of that development and self-love and billiards ability, it will be kagami who starts it and it doesn't take long considering what we have said above.

-yellow: represents Chloe and Queen Bee, yellow is a very characteristic color of hers but also, she combines a lot with white, Chloe resettles Kagami, which would confirm the first color for us, (remember that white was both Marinette and Kagami , one of the 2) that this pattern begins with Kagami, so Marinette's evolution will occur through her actions, realizing that Chloe is nicknamed queen just like Kagami who is nicknamed queen, there you have another confirmation.

-hot pink/fuchsia; Zoe, MARINETTE INVERSE, this color is a very particular color because we find it in a certain aesthetic, a colored wick, aha, you have this wick for Zoe and Marinette from the inverse miraculous so it represents both,

What does this mean? Well, it is confirmation that Marinette is going to become more characterful and evolve.

Zoe represents Marinette, but a more adult, more liberal, more confident Marinette, which is why they both have a similar aesthetic,

Now, if we remember especially MIRACULOUS INVERSE, bad Marinette also had it and also on the same side of her bangs, what do we know about that Marinette? that her life was a shit (to sum it up hahaha) so what happens to that Marinette will surely happen to ours, this is going to make her become cold and isolate herself from everything, but also make her very strong, she It will be "broken" to be "built" again due to several factors, because they are going to damage it from all sides and the causes will be kagami and lila, but above all kagami, but this will force her to mature and become strong Well, only in the darkness is where we can shine, right? and that is where we would have "zoe", a very sweet girl but also very self-confident and brave...

-red: kagami and ladybug, red is clearly the color of ladybug and kagami,

Now which of the two are you referring to, well clearly Ladybug, because Kagami was already represented before and remember, we come from that hot pink, what does this mean? Well, the fact that Marinette becomes stronger in herself will logically influence her form as a heroine, it's like this side is going to reinforce it more, but also she won't have as much of a complex type of "if she doesn't" "I'm nothing" she will understand that Ladybug is part of her and she is part of Ladybug, overcoming her insecurities", but that is if she had a bit of a bad time before, the inverse special gave clues.

-Neon green: chatnoir and adrien,

Yes, we could say that it is black but the truth is that neon green is the color that we see in many of their patterns, together we see it in their transformation, logo, print, etc... so it is a very characteristic color of theirs. , What does it mean? WELL, the relationship with both Chatnoir and Adrien is going to end, because, well, because of Kagami (and Lila's lies and Marinette herself) all that domino effect will also ruin the relationship between these two, and to confirm this , then the pattern is repeated again, leaving white, and again the same order, thus finishing one thing, and for that reason in this new season we have a new pattern of colors and balls.

2 PATTERN SEASONS 6,7....

Well, the order of this pattern is as follows, red, indigo blue, green, yellow and then this series repeats, red, indigo blue etc...ok? Well, knowing the order and what the colors and balls represent, let's do it.

-red: kagami and ladybug, represents both,

and it tells us 2 things:

1st: Kagami will be the one to ruin Marinette's life completely and the fact that she appears here means that S6 YOU WILL HAVE MORE THAN OBVIOUS CLUE THAT THIS IS GOING TO HAPPEN, to summarize, Kagami is going to betray Marinette by revealing her identity to the world, this movement will be given by lila from the shadows with manipulation.

and this should no longer be a surprise, the Félix chapter already gave clues that SHE IS UNITED WITH CHLOE AND LILA.

esto ser aun batacazo doble para marinette porque uno se puede esperar traicion por parte de chloe y de lila, pero ¿de kagami? la serie va a ser como hermanas, así que imagínate.

[this friendship will be broken]

This is going to destroy Marinette, so she will be left alone and this was both in civilian life and as a heroine (not counting the whole mess with Adrien and the lies and what Lila is going to get into their relationship)

2nd after all this, Marinette will really focus on being Ladybug seriously, and she will take her place, by then, her life will be chaos and of course she will not be able to trust anyone (not even in chatnoir) so she will have to search to a new partner, IT COULD ALSO BE A CLUE THAT WITH THE MESS HE'S GOING TO BE IN, HE MAY EVEN HAVE TO CHANGE MIRACULOUS AND USE THE DRAGON,

THAT MIRACULOUS IS ALSO RED AND THAT'S WHY SHE APPEARS AT THE END OF LS3 WITH THAT MIRACULOUS (S3 IS KAGAMI'S SEASON, IN IT WE TELL US ABOUT EVERYTHING SHE WILL DO AND INVOLVE IN MARINETTE'S LIFE)

-índigo blue: Argos

THIS COLOR REPRESENTS ARGOS, Argos and Félix, will play a crucial role because in S6, as we already see with my previous posts, and with all the chaos, Marinette will have the only person who will take care of her and protect, it will be Felix,

Now, it should be noted that this color is Argos, not Félix, which would indicate that on the one hand, we will see in this S6 MUCH MORE OF ARGOS HIMSELF THAN FELIX, and that the help will be more on a heroic level than on a civilian level, Argos is going to Being Ladybug's right hand, the only one she will be able to trust, will lighten her burden as Ladybug and little will replace Chatnoir, this is because of all the loyalty, affection, care and understanding that he will show, that's why appears here, this confirms what we mentioned in many of our posts, that felinette and argonette will be real, what's more, since this is on Marinette's balcony, it is possible that we even have a scene where Argos visits her on her balcony (how romantic aww).

Now in fact that it appears after the red one, I think it is confirmation of the Argobug ship, both will be a great team AND THAT IS WHY IT APPEARS IN THAT ORDER.

-strong green: carapace,

This color represents carapace, and you will say, what about this one in all this? It is not in itself that he is going to play an important role, it is what both Carapace and Nino represent, both represent Argos and through him they give us a clue (like with Chloe with Kagami)

Here I leave you a more extended link where we analyze everything about wayzz, nino and carapace and their connection with Argos/Félix

HERE A SCHEMATIC SUMMARY

This tells us about HOW he is going to protect Marinette, and the reason why he will become her constant companion, above all she will have protection from him, this will surely be at the end when Marinette's life falls apart, and He will be in charge of protecting several things; his heart, his secret identity (when she loses everything) his freedom, his friendship etc… EVERYTHING.

AND THAT IS WHY THIS COLOR GOES AFTER THE INDIGO BLUE, BECAUSE THEY ARE SPECIFYING A LITTLE WHAT IT IS GOING TO BE, THAT THEY ARE A FUO is the only clue to this.

-yellow: Zoe

According to the INFO that we already revealed above, it could be Chloe, but this does not make sense because as we have said through her, they tell us about Kagami and her intentions and that was already clear at the beginning, from the sequence of colors, in this case it is just zoe,

Zoe appears because through her she tells us about Marinette, as we have said, her identity will be revealed, so she will have to change in every aspect, (she will probably get blonde hair and get highlights) the fact that she is here only confirms to us that the seeds for this and its flowering will be in S6, for some reason "the end of ladybug" was announced, because it will literally be its end and they are preparing the ground, only here they will be Clues SO OBVIOUS THAT THEY WILL NOT BE OVERLOOKED, until it is It is possible that she even changes her miraculous temporarily, this could be a clue that she uses the bee one.

AND THAT IS WHY THAT COLOR GOES AFTER GREEN, BECAUSE IT IMPLIES PROTECTION FROM ARGOS FOR MARINETTE WHICH IS HIDDEN AND WITH ANOTHER IDENTITY.

HERE THE SEQUENCE ENDS, WELL AGAIN IT BEGINS RED, INDIGO BLUE ETC…

THEN LET'S MAKE A SUMMARY: what does the ball change and all that mean for the S6? From now on, Kagami will betray Marinette's friendship, reveal her identity, all of this motivated by Lila, this will destroy her and cause a great catharsis in her that will force her to mature through pain, she will have to change her entire style of life. life, Félix and Argos will be his greatest support and protection, all this will make them come together quite as friends and then as something more.

WE WILL READ YOU IN THE NEXT PART (I WILL TRY TO MAKE IT SHORTER)

Reblog, like and follow me for more content of this type.

See you in the next post.

[harveyguilleniconodelamoda]

Welcome to Harvey Guillén: Icono de la Moda!

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Over the last few years, Harvey Guillén has emerged as an important voice in the conversation around inclusivity in fashion, repeatedly making best dressed lists at red carpet events with his bold choices and taking every opportunity to advocate for greater diversity and inclusivity in the fashion world.

Since 2022 he has gone from mostly styling himself for his public appearances (and even for some of his roles!) to having a team of artists dedicated to helping him look his best in the spotlight. Through all of those changes, what remains consistent is the way he ignores the gender- and size-based limitations placed on fashion.

With excellent tailoring, bright prints and colors, bold flashes of skin, and the seamless integration of masculine and feminine details in stunning combinations that go beyond simple androgyny and venture into the realm of joyful, defiant genderfuckery, Harvey's personal style is all about obliterating barriers and inspiring others to do the same.

Here you'll find posts analyzing the costumes of Harvey's most iconic characters such as Guillermo de la Cruz, Cousin Blobbin, Andy from Cursed Friends, and others as his filmography continues to grow! You'll also find deep dives on Harvey's red carpet looks, street style, casual wear, and photoshoots, examinations of recurring motifs in Harvey's personal style, and deep dives on his staple pieces, accessories, and more. Wherever possible, links will be included to the actual clothing items and/or affordable options for similar styles.

Is there a costume, outfit, or staple piece from Harvey's style you'd like to know more about? Feel free to send a request via the ask box!

Tagging Method

All posts are tagged with Harvey's name, "fashion," and a basic category for the occasion/purpose of the featured look(s), and the names of any key designers or brands mentioned within the post.

Posts about Harvey's staple pieces we see over and over are tagged "staple pieces." Any general blogging or research updates are tagged "blog update." Posts featuring brands that have size ranges that include plus sizes are tagged "plus size fashion." Posts focusing on accessories are tagged "accessories" and posts featuring interviews or excerpts from interviews with Harvey are tagged "interviews."

The basic categories I use for the various looks featured here are:

Character Costumes - Costumes worn for/as fictional characters in feature films or scripted series, or BTS photos/footage of in-character outfit options that may or may not appear in the final product.

Photoshoots - Outfits worn in photoshoots.

Red Carpet Looks - Outfits worn to red carpet events, including award shows and film premieres.

Work Attire - Outfits other than character costumes worn to rehearsals, stunt rehearsals, table readings, voice recording sessions, etc.

Street Style - Outfits worn out and about in public, but not to a planned media event.

Casual Wear - Outfits worn to family and friends events in private spaces, i.e. outfits Harvey wears at home (please note - I am only ever sharing these photos here if they were shared publicly on social media and are relevant to the subject of this blog).

TV Appearances - Outfits worn in unscripted or live television appearances, i.e. talk show appearances, guest hosting spots, or Drag Race and other competition reality show guest spots.

Media Event Looks - Outfits worn to planned media events that are not necessarily red carpet events or award shows.

[nadekofannumber1]

need to know what you thought of Nadeko Around

Honestly I blasted through the book pretty quick and I’m gonna prolly take a reread and put out more thoughts later. However, what I think of it now is that it’s a good Nadeko finale in a sense. I’d of course love to see more Nadeko but she really got her shit together in this one so a lot of character growth isn’t really something I see in the future. I’d like to see the confidant kinda mean Nadeko thrive!

More info below

I feel like it kind of went through all the major tennants of Nadeko:

Learning to want to live and feel alive

As a member of the “nadeko detested living to the degree she doesn’t want to live” believer club, I’m proud to announce that Nadeko is learning to feel alive and let go of inhibitions. Nadeko goes from feeling guilty for being “so spoiled” because she didn’t know shit about island survival scenarios, to being actively proud and happy when she wins to dropping her guard living ungracefully and actively going feral. Nadeko experiences the joys of it all and it’s wonderful.

The love of creation

Nadeko draws, Nadeko draws a lot it’s the whole thing she creates and she does things that are special. Nadeko becomes a wizard and that’s so awesome. The thesis of this book is the love of creation and how it drives people to truly live.

Society, roles, clothes, and appearance

Nadeko in this story abandons a lot of what society finds pure with her appearance, being gaunt, tanned, covered in wounds with calloused hands, building light muscle, having short hair. A ton of traits that make certain types scream and throw up in hatred for “not being pure”. While Nadeko does wear the uniform it’s a complex thing where it’s comfortable and there’s identity in it but Nadeko feels as if she’d prefer to wear other things even changing for the final confrontation. Honestly it makes me wonder about how they’d adapt it into an anime outside the obvious bc Nadeko acquires a ruggedness I think some would find hard to market unless simplified aesthetically. My final wonder is what outfit Tsukihi put her in as nademono had threads of the concept of Nadeko reconnecting with concepts of femininity and repairing that relationship but putting Nadeko in a cute outfit feels wrong. Personally I’d prefer perhaps something gnc or masculine and maybe trendy but also I’d take something mature aesthetic wise. I just feel that doubling down on the tomboyness (and also other potential read’s of Nadeko’s character with gender) would actually suit Nadeko well as one that forges their own path and doesn’t necessarily need to conform to tradition (being something entirely self made, for the love of creation).

Recognizing and self actualizing one’s own circumstance

Nadeko though this arc looks at her past and decides that it is the past and she was done wrong in said past. This includes Nadeko acknowledging that her parents did see her like the stuffed toys they bought her, Nadeko is self aware and understanding “I was sheltered but shit is fucked” and “I also get what my parents meant but I’m not changing carrier paths.”

Getting meaner on purpose

Nadeko’s arc involves her getting less cute and more mean on purpose. Urako tries to get under her skin but Nadeko is just like “whatever bro, don’t care, gonna save you btw.” Nadeko being allowed to be mean and falling from that grace can be also analyzed via parallels with hanekawa and shinobu but I think that’s a big post topic. TLDR Nadeko becoming more open and rude and honest is a break from society and tradition and Nadeko doesn’t need that. Nadeko needs to be free to go off and live her atypical life even if others don’t get her. Even if Nadeko works in the “real world” she doesn’t become normal and take normal paths set for her and I’m proud of her for that. Nadeko can work with others but doesn’t have to pretend.

Kind of the autism power fantasy jk(unless…..)

That current of homoeroticism that isn’t stated but definitely came to something

Nadeko got her “first kiss” (mouth to mouth with Yotsugi) and she spent so much time on that island thinking about drawing naked women and women’s bodies, and then the urako moment happened, and of course the beloved mention of Tsukihi in a pure positive light. Even with believing these characters are just friends nisio sure does love ramping up undertones as much as he possibly can. That it kinda becomes a cope to look away from their importance to Nadeko.

Even in a straight Nadeko scenario the image invokes a concept of experimenting with one’s self and identity which is integral to the coming of age aspects of Nadeko’s character arc (i also think that what Nadeko did with araragi was trying to experiment safely to test waters and limits, and that can still even apply in the straight Nadeko scenario.)

Nadeko’s family doesn’t want to talk to her much even though she’s successful and is forging her own path. Mangakaphobic, they really did hate her for coming out (as a mangaka) to them, they thought they had a normal daughter who wanted to be a bride and put it on forms of what she wanted to be when she grew up. Pay no mind to the fact Nadeko is masking her true self and picking what she’s supposed to. Nadeko a cute innocent girl but she came out (as a mangaka) and they hated that, Nadeko always had a secret she kept in the closet that she felt her parents disapproved of and yet in that closet was her real self (mangaka), the wanted the image of her to remain pure so even when Nadeko came back home and cut her hair short they hoped Nadeko would choose to go back on the path they wanted for her (not a mangaka), and yet that ended up with her homeless and taking odd jobs, years later Nadeko tries contact but won’t give up on being who she is it’s a them problem that they won’t accept her at this point, Nadeko will never stop being who she is and won’t closet herself in this society (from openly being a mangaka)

Nadeko valuing relationships with others

Nadeko’s aquisition of friends is more emphasized in Nadeko draw by presence but here it’s emphasized by silence how much Nadeko values her relationships with others. Yearning pining and surviving!

Nadeko not really thinking about Koyomi

A fun one! When you see a lot of character’s internality you can kind of see those opinions, and progressively through arcs Nadeko truly realizes those feelings were kind of misplaced and generally doesn’t think about the guy almost at all compared to a lot of other characters in subsequent arcs, Nadeko doesn’t really even bring up the guy herself until she’s about to die from that snake, there is reflection in urako of course but it’s a beautiful metaphor of scale peeling and “shedding one’s skin”

—————-

Even after this there’s a lot of fun implications with urako making the snake charms and kaiki dealing out fake ones that accidentally ended up activating. Real fascinating enriching chewable concept.

I got more I suppose but that’s all for now, expect other Nadeko brainrot posts in the future (and maybe something about shinomono 1 if I find motivation)

Nadeko’s autism truly has evolved into evil autism (congratulatory)

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Part 1 -> here

Here I am back. I'm still sorry about the little mess in the first part, I should have waited for someone to subtitle me in my language so I could understand word for word. But here I am back with part two where we analyze and theorize about the Teaser Trailer of the second season of Helluva Boss!

After this image I don't think there is any need to say anything. Seriously. There will be a flashback to Blitz's past where we would see his mother! What the fuck do we want to know anymore??? I WANT to see this episode NOW. I remember when I saw this scene I jumped out of my chair, but I imagine we all jumped out of our chairs, or bed, or wherever else you were when you saw this stuff. I don't know what to expect but I'm honest. I'm definitely expecting a cute scene between Blitz and his mom since he seems to love her so much. There are those who have theorized that Blitz's mother is ill, but a serious one and that is why in the episode "OOPS" when we saw the flashback of the fire, her mother could not be saved. Meanwhile, his father, instead of collecting the money (as for example in the episode "The Circus" when his father sent him to rob the Goetia family) and helping them to take care of his wife, spends it on other things (which we don't know about, obviously imagining that this theory is true).

However, I am curious to know the character of Barbie and Blitzø's mother.

Okay. Let's breathe so as not to tell this idiot to fuck off. Mammon returns. On the one hand I expected it after the super evil exit (I'm being sarcastic of course. But joking aside I loved when Mammon laughed and ran away. Typical villain in the movies) that he made leaving Ozzie and Fizz to their fate since they have declared that they were in love. Maybe maybe we could even see how things are actually going after their statement. Although. I noticed that the people from Hell didn't completely hate their confession though, I mean did you hear them when Asmodeus said he loved Fizz? It seemed like we Helluva fans were getting excited after they had actually revealed to us in episode six of the second season that the two were together, and we, who had already theorized it in episode seven of the first season (as if it hadn't been obvious but details). However if you notice Mammon's clothing is different from that of episode seven. He tells me a lot about the mafia, and we know that in his ring there is too much of the mafia. Maybe he's doing business with someone? Maybe with Crimson himself for some reason? Or maybe he's simply devising a plan of his own to get revenge on Ozzie and Fizzarolli for humiliating him in front of everyone in his own ring?

However, to make you laugh a little, on the table where Mammon is apparently sitting there is a mini sketboard and a fidget spinner. I don't know, it made me laugh.

LET IT GOOO, LET IT GOOOOOOO🎶

OK stop. I was left speechless at this image, I mean, holy shit! Would we have a clash with our Elsa from Frozen?? In his ice castle?? Come on, anyway, I don't believe that Vivienne wasn't inspired by Elsa to create Andrealphus, I don't believe it. End of the story.

Do we now also want to talk about there will be a song for Octavia??? Holy shit, Vivienne wants to kill us!! I'm looking forward to these five episodes and you tell me that Octavia will have her own space where she will sing?? I can not do it. More than anything the phrase he says pierces my heart: "You never loved mother, you never loved me...you love him" Let's start immediately from the fact that ok, we are still hurt and we don't know what actually triggered this anger or sadness in Via, but I ask myself: Again?? That is, the matter wasn't resolved in episode two of the first season? Stolas said he would never leave his daughter for Blitz, but he never said he didn't love her, as far as I'm concerned Stolas is more of a parent than Stella. Now I don't know the relationship between Stella and Octavia, but seeing her, I don't think in the slightest that he loves her like Stolas loves Octavia. In short, Stella wanted to kill Stolas to take revenge for the bad impression she made him make (only for the bad impression he made, not because he betrayed her with an imp). But then no. It can't be done because then the inheritance would go to Octavia and she would get nothing. Ok that's her brother's plan, but I don't think Stella will hesitate to hurt her daughter to get what she wants. On the other hand, I wasn't the only one to theorize it either. I really hope that the matter about the relationship between Stolas and Octavia is resolved in some way, because Stolas acts as a father to Octavia more than any other father in the world, in short, I would like him as a father. He has understood his mistakes and is trying to fix them. The fact that he is putting his happiness first for now is not (in my opinion) his fault.

Stolas has never thought about his happiness and only after seeing Blitz again is he starting to understand what could be good for Blitz and for himself. I believe that Stolas wants to try to have happiness so that he can share it with his daughter and strengthen their relationship. Obviously tell me what you think, I won't judge your thoughts even if they are different from mine!

Do you remember him? Yes, that's right, our new bad fish that we commented on in part one of this Trailer analysis. I renamed him because when reading the comments on Vivienne's video, someone theorized that he could be the prince of the ring of Envy, while still having the appearance of a fish or something similar. I don't know exactly what made me think about it, but it doesn't cause me any confusion, on the contrary it's just more curiosity. Indeed it could be, given that in these just five episodes we would travel between different circles and also return to earth for the adventures of our favorite imps. So I wasn't surprised if we had to meet all the princes or princesses of the various circles. There is a scene where there even seems to be a mysterious and robust character, very strong and with an evil and severe appearance. This character was immediately said by fans to be Satan, being reminiscent of the circle of wrath. I admit I thought so too, but who knows. Remember that even if the answer is so obvious it doesn't necessarily have to be right. 😉 Oh well, bullshit aside, even if that should be Satan we would all be happy to have met the dick from the circle of wrath.

Well now, I think we can finally conclude with this image where Vivienne tells us in which months the episodes will be released. Which makes it more anxiety-inducing since we only know the months and not the precise dates. As some fans had theorized, the episode "The Full Moon" will be released in May. There are those who even thought it would be released in mid-April, but let's say that this episode is so long overdue that people were inventing the worst things to get it out.

And finally. What do you think? What are your thoughts on this Trailer? I still can't believe we would have an episode in May, June and then have to wait until October 🫣. Help.

-Sorry for my english!!!

[ladylamrian]

Hello there friend, it is I, @promptnonny

I have come bearing a gift for you 💗

Character A: “How was the meeting?”

Character B: “I wanted to stab everyone.”

Character A: “I’m glad you didn’t cause you would’ve gotten blood all over yourself and we have dinner reservations at 7.”

Character B: “I love you for supporting me.”

Character A: “I love you too.”

Please tag me so I can read your amazing writing 😘

Bound by Fate (Mini-Series)

- Chapter 1: Love & War

Female MainCharacter: Alexis Clarissa Fontaine

Pairing: F!MC×NikRyder

Summary: Nik has bad news for Alex.

Word Count: 1.7K words

Rating: Teen (Angst, Romance)

Warnings: Angst, Mention of War and Vampires

-> Masterlist of this Mini-Series <-

-> My full Nightbound Fanfic Masterlist here <-

Taglist: @infactnoimmasitinthemiddle ; @jdstar88 ; @blackcatkita ; @peonierose ; @lilyoffandoms ; @lawrencebarkley ; @tessa-liam ; @mxdanni ; @blackcatkita ; @mariemarieohcontrary ; @secretaryunpaid

Also tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations ; @promptnonny (hope you like this and angst)

Comments via Reblog wholeheartly welcome

Alex was standing in front of a mirror, putting the finishing touches on her make-up before getting ready for her date with Nik. She stopped as she heard someone with keys, so she followed the sound and entered the hallway. There, Nik just entered his apartment.

"Hey, Nik, you're back! How do I look?", she asked and welcomed him with a gentle hug.

Nik, on the other hand was in deep thoughts, looked away and didn't even return the hug which made Alex worry as she realized. It's been a year now since the two of them were living together as a couple. They know each other very well. Something is disturbing him, she's definitely sure. Carefully Alex released him from the hug and took a few steps backwards to analyze him. Clenched jaw, staring at the floor, knitted eyebrows, a balled fist,... Yes, his body language revealed it all.

"Hey, Nik, everything alright?"

"Hmm, yeah.", he answered without meeting her chocolate-brown eyes.

"You sure, Nik?"

"Hmm?", he finally looked at her.

"How was the meeting?"

"I'm glad you didn't cause you would've gotten blood all over yourself and we have dinner reservations at 7."

"Oh that... Believe me, I wanted to stab everyone. I wanted to stab them all!!", he angrily replied.

"I love you for supporting me."

"I love you too, Nik.", she giggled which made Nik smile a little. He took a closer look at her.

"Hey, you look beautiful tonight."

"Thanks, Nik. You should get ready too, you know? I can't have a dinner date without my main course which is you, Nik.", she winked at him.

"Someone's in a good mood here."

Raising her eyebrow, Alex moved closer to him and rested her arms on his chest while Nik pulled her even closer. Both looking deeply at eachother's eyes.

"Well, someone has to keep the good mood up when the other one had a bad day.", she answered in a seducive tone and smiled.

"And I like that, rookie. Hey, how about we cancel our dinner reservations and hang out tonight in the bedroom?"

Alex playfully pushed herself away from Nik and turned disappointedly away from him which made Nik wonder.

"Definitely not, Nik. We're going out tonight. I mean when was the last time we went out together on a date? Hmm?", she argued.

"Okay, okay, sorry. I was just enjoying this little moment here."

"Whatever, now hurry and get ready for our date. I'll give you five minutes to get ready. Don't take long.", she commanded which made him chuckle because she's definitly the one who takes longer to get ready than he.

Like she said, Nik entered the bedroom to change clothes without closing the door, hoping Alex would change her mind and spend the night with him in their bedroom. But it didn't happened. After a few minutes, the man entered the hallway where she was waiting for him. But Nik noticed that she was drown in deep thoughts.

"Hey, what's up? Penny for your thoughts?"

"Nothing, actually. It's just you looked so stressed before you entered the apartment, so I hope the date will let you unwind a little. I don't like when you're stressed. Or should we cancel...?"

"No, I'm fine. It's okay. Don't cancel the date, you already dressed up and were so excited for it. I don't want our night to be ruined because of that stupid meeting I had."

"And aren't you excited for our date as much as I am?"

"Of course I am. Spending some time with my beloved rookie is exactly what I need. I need you. Forever. I need you forever. Only you, Alex. I love you. You're my everything.", he leaned closer and both drifted into a passionate kiss. A few seconds later, they parted to look into eachother's eyes.

"And you should know that I love you too Nik. By the way you look great in this black suit." She smiles shyly. Which made his heart beat stronger. For him Alex is such a beautiful person, from the outside and on the inside.

"Hey, Nik, before we enjoy tonight... Care to share what happened before?", she asked him, but he was silent. No answer came out of his mouth. The sadness in his gray eyes told her everything, so she decided to ask him again. Alex wanted to know what bothered her boyfriend.

"Nik, how was the meeting? Is everything alright? You don't have to tell me, you know? It's just..."

"It's okay, I don't mind sharing with you. But you wouldn't like it. It's just... the vampires from New York. I went to Ivy's, so she could connect me with their clan leaders via video call. I'm worried cuz things don't look good there. Soon, the vampires might have a war and... and... Katherine and I might have to join the war too."

"What?!! Why??!! What do nighthunters have to do with vampires? And New York,... that's where Kristin lives too!!! Why didn't you told me before?!! Nik, tell me everything now!", Alex panicked, took a few steps backwards as tears welled up. Gently, Nik cupped her face and leaned into a soft hug to calm her down.

"Hey, hey, relax, calm down! We don't even know for sure if the vampires will have war, okay. Relax, everything will be fine. It's just a theory. Wanna head out now?", he tried to make her feel better and to skip the topic, but Alex noticed.

Even Nik couldn't hide his true feelings, he felt uncomfortable, stressed and scared of what would happen next. Yes, Nik Ryder and scared, because joining a supernatural war is a huge thing where everyone would be concerned. In an unknown place surrounded by unknown dangers and dangerous creatures, away from home, family and friends. For Nik, away from his true love, his rookie, his Alex.

"Nik, we're not going anywhere tonight until you don't tell me everything.", she lightly pushed him away and glared at him.

"Alex, no need to..."

"Nik!!!"

"Well, I... Okay, fine. As a nighthunter, my job is to protect the human world and supernatural world, bring them both into order and serve justice, so that's why Katherine and I have to be there when the vampires will have war, to protect the humans and the innocent ones. And about the video call I just had, I actually called that damn clan leader to complain about their system cuz the NOLA vampires are drivin' me nuts. It's been a few days now and they're committing crimes and murder in our city. The numbers are increasing every week and someone has to do something. But guess what, the vamps from NY are too busy to care of what happens here, because they have their own problems to deal with.", he disappointedly explained to her.

"Wait...Wait, let me get this straight. Soooooo, when you entered the apartment you had an online meeting via video call at Ivy's place and were talking about stabbing a vampire? Huh, mentioning to stab someone during a video call who's not even here in New Orleans?", she asked. He scratched the back of his head and nodded.

Without getting ready for it, Alex crashed into Nik for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, rested his head lightly on hers and pulled her closer. Her body shaking while silently crying.

"I'm sorry, rook. I'm sorry for ruining our date tonight."

"Nik... Oh, Nik! Why? Can't you decline? We're talking about war, not even any war, a supernatural war. Please, don't... Don't leave me."

"Hey, it's not even decided about if I as a nighthunter have to go. Okay, relax. Maybe I don't have to.", he gave her and himself hope. Everyone knows that he's one of the best nighthunters, so it could be more likely that the best ones will be chosen for this big event, but he doesn't want to think about it or sadden Alex even more.

"Can't... can't you... can't you reject?"

"I have sworn an oath to protect anyone who needs help. The humans will need safety if the vampires try to harm them. Look, the good thing is that most of the vampire clan leaders are on our side and are against war. Everything will be fine. Alex, please, stop crying. It won't change anything if you spill your tears for me."

"Of course, I will spill every tear for you because I love you and I can't live without you. Try to understand, I just can't!!!!", she screamed at the top of her lungs and felt the salty taste of her tears streaming in her mouth as they were endless waterfalls. When she pulled herself away from him, Nik was longing for her.

"No, no, stop... Please stop, I... I don't want this either, but I have no choice. I don't want to think about this right now, please. Please, let us unwind. Only you and me, together. I...", he quickly pulled her closer and his crashed his lips on hers. They kissed each other with pleasure, passion and full of desire. Not wanting anything to come in between. They were afraid to part ways, to lose each other. They were always one. Always.

While kissing both tiptoe around to the other side into the bedroom. Completly lost into the sensation, Nik's hands on her body, his lips now on throat while she lays her hands on his chest which slowly moving lower and lower.

"Are you sure, Alex? Don't let your sadness control you."

"Oh Nik, I love you and all I need is you. Only you. I need you now, Nik."

"Damn, I love you too. You're my queen, my life, my everything and there's no life without you... I can't live without you, I will die.", he confessed and crystalline tears finally filled his eyes too.

"Don't you dare to die, understood? If you die, I will die with you. So promise me, that you won't die, my soldier."

"I promise, I swear on... The hell with that. I swear on us, rook."

"What? On us? Why swear on us?"

"Yeah, I swear on us. Because there isn't anything I believe in more than us and our true love. You and me, forever. Nothing will seperate us, my love."

To be continued...

Comments with reblogs very more appreciated

[fruitypixel]

Character Preview: Derek and The Androids

Android

An android is a humanoid robot or other artificial being. They’re made from flesh like material that makes them look human.

To me, it’s a humanoid robot with highly advanced AI. AI has the ability to evolve, form their own options, and most of all, have emotions. To laugh, to mourn, to love. Most of all, to form relationships, to form personalities, and to form tastes. This is Project C.O.R.E

I’ve built four Androids with the resources I found scattered across the world. Well, not really, it was simple to get the hair and clothing. The outer skins and eye colors wasn’t as hard. Everything else? I don’t want to go into detail.

Their A.I. wasn’t easy either. The Androids A.I. it’s hard for me to explain what it does, and it works. Let’s say it's advanced enough to where it can evolve on its own. Thanks to this, I had to implement a heart in their chest. While the motherboard serves as their thoughts. The CORE holds their emotions, cheesy, but it works.

Luckily, everything else fell into place once I finished their A.I. Each has their own personality generated via binary code. In the event that I’m not here to see them; they have abilities equipped within them. Each has their own unique weapon based off their personality. Some may think its extreme, but honestly, in a crapsack world like this, they’ll need it.

It took me a total of ten years to build these four. The third android, my oldest daughter, took the longest. Meanwhile, the others took three years each. I blame myself for making her abilities complicated, but at least she’s fully functional.

…

It wasn’t easy hiding this project from my superiors. It was even harder with most of my friends. Especially Marco, that man is too smart for his own good. Every time I’d tell him that this is an engine I’m working on: he’d roll those eyes of his and say “Sure whatever.”

Whatever? Screw you, Marchrius!

Tarma wasn’t better. This guy would try and steal my diary every time he saw me with it. He read a few pages, but that’s all, I’d end up tackling him before he turns another page. I can’t remember the last time we fought because of my diary. I think it was after he was promoted?

Shit, I’m getting off topic.

As of writing this, the androids are in their pods being analyzed by the computer. This is to ensure that they have the ability to understand morality. Just the thought of my kids becoming killing machines terrifies me. At the same time, I don’t to wait until I’m old to see them wake up. At least I managed to improvise and shorten the years into months

I honestly can’t wait to see them! There’s so much I to see, so much to teach them, and maybe my older brother and his kids will get the chance to see their cousins!

Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll introduce them to both of my friends.

I just hope nothing bad happens…

DHA.

Save Document?

>Yes >No

Document Saved.

[gin-stan]

I keep thinking moon knight animatic thoughts, so here are some ideas on how I'd animate characters to these songs:

[From here, foward quotes are me explaining how the lyrics relate the character and their stories.]

1. Humans touch by TWRPtube:

It's Layla and Marc singing (and dancing) w/ to each other, but their muppets and a disco ball pops out at some point. Their puppet costumes switch from normal clothes to their avatar suits on beat. The costume change happens via a spin transition either physically (the puppets) or camera. Or a whip to the side.

"we were such a good team/still going strong"

Layla singing to marc how she'd doesn't understand what happened Marc is trying but can't really explain to Layla why he backed away .

"I never did you wrong until the ne× me came along"

[MK and possibly Steven coming into play].

"Now I'm alone on the boulevard of broken streams."

"I'm just a toy to you, my love"

And it continues, Layla feeling a bit betrayed and confused. Maybe due to the suit and other trauma in his life, Marc doesn't feel "human" anymore since his autonomy is practically gone due to his servitude to Konshu and being a superhero/having to protect ppl.

"I need a humans touch, but you don't need me"

He needs Layla but he believes she doesn't need him cause she'll only get hurt bc of him (due to konshus jobs and promise to take Layla instead if he doesn't fall in line).

You could analyze lyric to apply it to their relationship.... I'm not gonna do that. But you get the idea Σ(Ｔ▽Ｔ;)

2. Friends in low places by Worthikids.

It's in a paper mache animation style with bolts (flat pins) on the characters joints.

The first part (guitar riff Part before the lyrics come in) is a title card introduction to marc and bushman. It details Marc's last moments due to bushmans betrayal, "on that hallowed night when I lost my life.." him meeting konshu and becoming MK.

"I was chosen for a second chance at life"

Konshu granted Marc MK power in the pyramid.

Konshu is doing the laughing in the background cause he just got a bog3 deal.

"I am the watcher I watch for all of time"

Shows him looking over the city Konshu will be pulling the strings and moving MK around like a puppet.

"I got friends in low places, just another one in a long line of no ones"

Shows previous mooknights in a line up behind or besides Marc/MK like in ATLA.

We get a visual of marc walking/staggering the background changes between locations and nights and day cycles by spinning the background like a wheel. Marc switches between, MK himself, Steven and Jake all walking through the streets of whatever city theyre currently located in.

You get the idea the ending shot is MK looking over the city and konshu looming behind him as "friends in low places fades out "

3. So we fall by Stupendium. So I know this is the odd own out but hear me out:

The fall guys singing abt being exploited by higher ups are replace by past avatars of all the Egyptian gods. Singing to MK abt how unfair their life as a avatar was and how some came to perish.

They didnt know what they were really getting into. Or the things they had to do. Ect ect. The ones pulling the strings using them for their own entertainment as they risk their lives to fulfill their duties.

Warning Marc on trusting his own boss to much and

This is done in a puppet style also or paper mache.

It's a bit silly but who cares.

There's more to each but it's too much to all type out. My ambitions are too high so I'll never get around to actually doing it. But I wanted to get my thoughts out there at least lol.

[howlingday]

My idea for a potential DEATH BATTLE! #2

2023, August 16-31

Link to first post;

Yang Xiao Long vs. Akihiko Sanada (RWBY vs. Persona)

RWBY's heavy hitter and Persona's bruising boxer duke it out!

(I wanted to use "electric emperor", but Kanji Tatsumi can also be called that)

Fighter 1: Yang Xiao Long, the blazing dragon from RWBY.

Fighter 2: Akihiko Sanada, the specialist boxer of Persona's SEES.

Wiz: We may lose our loved ones to events out of our control, but that only leads us down a path to finding a new family to look after and care for.

Boomstick: And the best way to do it is by saving the world through punching! He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.

Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.

PREFACE:

We had Weiss vs. Mitsuru as an actual episode and Yates did a commission for Penny Polendina vs. Aegis, so why not our hard-hitting punching people? P.S., Don't think I hate RWBY. I just love the idea of certain RWBY characters fighting, nay, interacting with other fictional characters that are similar to them, especially if they have some sort of connection through crossovers.

WHY:

Connections:

1. Both fight via boxing and punching.

2. Both lost family members that served as motivation for their actions. Yang lost her stepmom and was abandoned by her birth mother, which led to a rough childhood for Yang, resulting in her thrill-seeking lifestyle (essentially living her childhood later on as she couldn't do it as a kid). Akihiko's sister died when they were both young and his best friend Shinjiro died, but he steeled his resolve which led to his Persona's growth. You can also add in Blake leaving Yang.

3. Both have a specific trait that they don't exhibit much but are now seen as the chore trait of their personalities due to side material. Those are their passions for puns and protein respectively.

4. Funnily enough, both have powerful connections to a younger sister (Ruby and Miki respectively).

Personal reasons: I'll be blunt, I want this to be another Balrog vs. TJ Combo. I think it could work, but the only other way I see this match starting would be an encounter similar to those of Tartarus, the Yellow Trailer, or Yang's interactions with Shay. What I want the most from the fight is for them to compliment each other's physical strength, treating the fight first like a friendly spar and then turning up the heat (like All Might vs. Might Guy). The encounter could happen in the open since both have a history of wandering in search of something (Yang would be on her bike, and she has searched for info on her mom and Akihiko traveled the world, searching to become stronger), which would come into play in the Notable Events. If Akihiko is shown in his P4A model, I'd want him to use his knife, but it'll likely not happen. I also want some lighting and hothead puns, and I think the golden colors of Yang's Blaze and golden colors will complement Caesar's blue and violet lighting as well as Aki's scarlet and black clothes.

THE FIGHT:

Art and animation: This one will either be 3D like Weiss vs. Mitsuru. It could also be a 2D fight like a potential BBCTB fight, but I think they'll go with the former because all RWBY fights (as of me writing this) have been in 3D so they could distinguish themselves from BBCTB. I think the animation from All Might vs. Might Guy or even Blake vs. Mikasa could work with the CQC involved, but the former is the better option.

Possible setup:

OPTION A: They're part of a tournament like the Yang vs. Bakugo DBX (Yang would look like she did in Vol. 1-3 and Aki would look like he did in P3 for some reason) or a boxing match a la Balrog and TJ Combo, or even Heihachi vs Geese. The prize is cash, which Yang wants for her bike and Aki wants for equipment, be it for boxing or the Tartarus quests. Or ramen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Introducing our fighters! In one corner, you have the blazing sunny dragon from Beacon, the fiery and explosive Yang Xiao Long! On the other, Gekkougan High's boxing captain, the shocking protein junky, Akihiko Sanada!" The announcer mumbles, asking someone near him whether or not this is the chick that broke a kid's leg even after she won a tournament match, but quickly gets back into the job.

Yang: "You better not go easy on me."

Akihiko: "Same to you, blondie."

They walk back to their corners and prepare themselves.

OPTION B: They encounter out in the open, likely in an urban scene like the Kingdom of Vale or Tatsumi Port Island. Yang is riding her bike, searching for something, be it info or thrills. However, a screaming man falls in front of her and she swerves out of the way, only to find more people falling out of the sky. She hopes to find the source of the commotion and see Aki punching out thugs. She speeds in, excited and ready for a fight.

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!/FIGHT! :

1. If the fight starts with Option B, then Yang enters like in Vol. 6's fight against Adam, so away goes her bike! Aki notices, and either punches away the vehicle or dodges out of the way. Yang skydives in, reeling in a punch. Aki prepares his own strike, and BOOM!

2. They both relish the combat. Their competitive natures lead them to be ever so slightly boastful, but they'll complement each other's power.

3. Akihiko summons Caesar and lightning is launched. Yang makes puns as a result: "Well, that was shocking."

4. Yang uses Ember Celica and Aki dodges.

5. Combos from BBCTB and P4A/U.

6. Yang takes advantage of both their up-close approaches and uses her bombs. The explosives catch Aki off guard.

7. Eventually, a strand of Yang's hair falls, and she notices. She thusly activates Blaze, and Aki is in awe of the increase in firepower (ba-dum-tss), even if momentarily, but he then embraces the challenge and rises to the occasion. "Bring it on!".

8. The ending is a clash of fists like in the cover of Brandon Yates's Blazing Fury, and it would pay homage to the Yellow Trailer and Akihiko's one-hit KO from the Arena games. If it's option A, then the arena, the spectators, and the announcer are blown away (ba-dum-tss) by the impact, and the winner is left standing, panting, and tired. However, they thank the loser for the fun and challenge. I want the winner to take one of the loser's weapons as a memorandum, but I don't think it'd be in character.

RESULT:

Strengths and weaknesses:

Yang:

+ Blaze allows for strength increase

+ Has ranged weaponry

≥ Has slight versatility due to her kicks and weapons

≥ Likely has longer experience due to her training under Taiyang

≥ Can likely dodge Caesar's lightning if scaled to Mercury

- Aura takes a long time to recharge

- Cannot activate Blaze without Aura

- Cannot exploit any weakness

Akihiko:

+ Caesar can quickly recharge if broken

+ Stronger and more durable

+ Has greater support due to Caesar's support spells like Power Charge

+ Has faced more dangerous opponents in Straega, the Full Moon Shadows, and the Red Fog clones.

= Can likely keep up with Yang as he has avoided lightning attacks

Ending puns:

"Don't Celica short; Akihiko went out in Blaze of glory."

"Yang was handed a defeat and Akihiko Caesar (see-zar) victory."

I wanted to use "got beaten to the punch" but Roshi vs. Jiraya had that as a punch line. Dio vs. Alucard used the "owned" punch line like Mario vs. Sonic 2018 but then added to it.

MUSIC:

Name: "Beat You To The Punch"

The title makes reference to Yang's love of puns and both their primary methods of fighting.

Art: The art would depict the two arm wrestling, Yang's arm blazing and Aki's having lightning coursing about it. There could be a Strawberry Sunrise with Caesar's sword in it in the background.

Sound: I Burn + Mass Destruction. The beginning is MD but with a rock vibe, and the climax has I Burn, like in Yang vs. Mercury.

THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!

---------------------------------------------------

Another fascinating idea, but sadly, one I can't really give my opinion on. First, I'm not familiar with Persona (Saw bits of 4 and 5 and that's it). Second, after the last Death Battle, I'm hesitant to pit RWBY against them, since Persona characters seem a bit... OP compared to RWBY.

Still, I will honor your submission with at least this...

VS

HOT-SHOT PUNCH-OUT

On the one hand, I feel Yang may have an edge with her kickboxing, bombs, AND durability compared to Weiss.

However, Persona also has, well, personas, which kinda give an unfair edge over their opponents (like a stand VS a regular person). Then again, I don't know the exact details.

Still, I like the idea you brought up.

[arcplaysgames]

These kids have a very high opinion of canvassing for information, which as far as data collection goes is about on par with opening a random manhole and inspecting the walls for the scrawlings of subterranean prophets. But we do what we must to hit story flags.

People are completely cracking up about the fog. Which, in a world that has now experienced COVID is dryly humorous. Yeah, Junes and CVS are working with Verizon to beam the virus into us via the 5G towers, uh huh.

There's a recurring thing with Chie that's very amusing, that she keeps accidentally saying the quiet part out loud, like the writers are trying to keep a lot of these elements subtextual and inferred but just in case, they also have Chie say things outright.

Also, I hate to swerve into more Thoughts On Yosuke again but it's really interesting how much he respects Naoto. I think.... [stand by, checking my mental footage] Yeah, Yosuke encourages Kanji to flirt with her and tries to wingman for them

(which, if both Naoto and Kanji are queer and Yosuke isn't, the dynamic is so funny to me) (i don't think yosuke is cishet but ask me about that later)

by Yosuke is pretty adamant about not... aiming his Horny Comphet Bullshit in his direction? I think Yosuke called Naoto cute once in passing and otherwise defers to him in moments like this for guidance and intelligence and actionable insight. I'm not going to go so far to say that Yosuke sees Naoto most as their nebulous non-girl gender...... uh

except. Shit. I think I am saying that. Oh my god. Yes, from what I have seen in P4G as of 12/06, Yosuke respects Naoto's gender the most.

At some point i need someone to ask me about Yosuke Hanamura because I could be here all fucking day analyzing this dude. He's not by any means my favorite character in P4G but.... I think he might be the most interesting one. In that way, he's like Yukari, a character that sometimes makes me uncomfortable or annoyed but has the most depth and most shit going on.

ANYWAY. Yosuke respects Naoto more than I do frankly because sometimes Naoto makes me go "DUDE WHAT."

Yosuke, Naoto, and Reverie go outside and I get to pick the killer and this wasn't even a question to me.

BUT THEN, SOMETHING INTRIGUING HAPPENS.

OOH LA LA

NOTE TO SELF: SAVE SLOT 1, DON'T OVERWRITE.

Should I explore that before or after getting a standard ending? I am so tempted to just go and do it immediately, but I dunno if I should save it as a little treat later.

ANYWAY yes obviously it's Adachi. I know it, you know it, but what has killed me is the Why/How of it.

................... holy shit i fucking remember that. oh my god. i feel like Yukiko just shoved a key into my brain and unlocked something, YEAH IT WAS MENTIONED LIKE FUCKING ONCE THAT YAMANO WAS STAYING AT THE AMAGI INN AND THERE WAS POLICE PRESENCE, oh my god.

Saki is easy, she was questioned about the body, that could have easily been Adachi (I think Adachi mentions idly in a cutscene with just him and Dojima that Saki didn't know much, establishing that they probably talked)

I always thought there was nothing behind those eyes. Now we know it's not that. He's just put up mirrors in there. Goddamn fucking bitch in sheep's clothing.

if adachi has ever given even 30% to anything in his life, I'll be stunned. There is some level of swanning gracefully and heedlessly through life to him. He's one of those guys that you can blindfold him and ask him to walk through a minefield and he'll be fine. His SPECIAL stats favor Luck.

Which is the build I also tend to go for but we ain't talkin' about that today!

Anyway, you get the options to ask him about Yamano ("idk i don't remember it's all hazy lmao") and Saki ("uhhh yeah she saw a dead body, so we questioned her") and then the warning letters

Kanji, I need you to do me a favor, big guy. I need you to sprint directly to the Yasoinaba PD, punch whoever you need to get through, and find that fucking letter STAT. Like, seriously, anyone you want, punch 'em.

whoopsie-daisy!

Naoto I hope you have a LIST

/sucks on teeth

Man. I missed that one. I caught the moment when Adachi lied about the Namatame-Saki thing but not that. They're right, they literally weren't attempted murders, they were short-term missing persons cases. goddammit.

Okay Naoto I'll give you that one.

Adachi bolts, and he's gone.

SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE

WHY DO ADACHI, REVERIE, AND NAMATAME HAVE THIS POWER? Does Adachi have a fucking persona? Where did this ability come from! At the start it was like Reverie was a patient zero giving other people their persona, but turns out people just HAVE this power!

Boy but it sure is Interesting that the game implies there's an ending where you, what, you don't turn Adachi in? Where you help him? Reverie and Adachi are inversions of each other in a lot of ways. The magic trick moment really seeds the idea and it's a fucking compelling concept.

'Cause... how to explain. Like, the MC of the game seems...

I just played P3P, right? I can tell you things about FeMC, like concrete stuff. She's bubbly and a little manic and is fast the become chummy with people, she's got a very sharp sense of humor, she doesn't mind looking like an idiot for a joke, and she is Weird. Everyone finds her just a little weird. She's like if the popular girl in your school also collected skulls and did taxidermy. It's nothing bad but everyone knows she's Odd.

In P4G, the MC is a blank to me. There are some fun Chaos Options in the game but otherwise there is a deficit to personality to most of the possible responses, and it seems like Reverie's dominant character trait is "really calm." Which works really well for a person who is supposed to be the "Wild Card" character, who can stand in for anything and anyone.

Adachi, as the Jester, feels like an interesting inversion of that. He's good at everything he does, he's self-professed to be very smart and did really well in school (even if he resented it) but rather than acting like a skeleton key to the people around him, he's... the lock. He's this void of connection. Boundless potential and nothing for it to catch on.

My friend Tree nudged me earlier today about if I figured out who else JYB voices in the game, and I was like "oh yeah, the MC. I dunno if that's relevant?" Because it could have been as simple as resource conservation-- why hire another VA when you can have one of them do some voice lines for a mostly-unvoiced MC? But now, okay, I see it. Why it might be significant.

GAH I'M BABBLING! WHO CARES, TEDDIE'S IN THE NEXT BIT AND THAT'S WAY MORE IMPORTANT. BRB.

[twilekchiss]

Part 1: Thrawn

In this series, I am using Tarot as a tool to analyze Thrawn and other Chiss characters from Thrawn: Ascendancy. For the uninitiated, Tarot is traditionally a deck of 78 cards, consisting of twenty-two Major Arcana and fifty-six Minor Arcana (or pip cards). Famously, Tarot is often used in cartomancy, or the use of cards in fortune-telling. However, Tarot is rooted in card games developed in 15th Century Italy, and is still used that way today; beyond that, it can be used as a tool for self-exploration. The cards are read via the heavy symbolism in the card art, drawing from occult traditions (depending on the deck in question).

I am basing my analysis off of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, which is usually the deck you see in movies and TV shows. I have assigned every major character I could think of to a Major Arcana card (two of them have two!); this analysis is not including the Minor Arcana.

Today, we discuss Thrawn as The Hanged Man.

The Hanged Man

Let’s look at the art. (I know, I know. Art analysis. How very Thrawn of me.)

A person is suspended from a cross made of living wood. His clothes are a blue tunic and red tights, a slim brown belt and beige slippers. He hangs by his right ankle, while his other leg is folded, crossed behind his right one. His arms are likewise folded, hands unseen behind his back. Around his head is a golden halo. The card itself is labeled as number twelve.

As you see, I have bolded a few points in the description above. These I believe are the key symbols behind this card. Let’s go through them one by one.

Suspended - The main feature, as it were, of the Hanged Man is that he is hanging. More than that, he hangs upside down, giving him a completely different view than the viewer. He is not struggling, but seemingly at peace with this, indicating his consent.

A Cross - Crosses, obviously, are highly associated with the crucifixion of Jesus in Christianity, but also the practice of Roman crucifixion in general, both criminals, and in Christian mythology, saints.

Living Wood - The cross being made of living wood brings to mind the myth of Odin hanging himself from Yggdrasil, the World Tree that connected the Nine Realms. Not only that, but throughout Tarot living wood indicates growth and change (and life in general).

Blue and Red Clothing - Blue symbolizes wisdom, freedom, intuition, and serenity, as well as sometimes loyalty and reliability. Red is the color of blood, of life, of passion, but also danger, sacrifice, and courage. Note that for the card, red is on top and blue is on bottom, but if the Hanged Man was not hanging upside down, they would be reversed.

Hanging by right ankle / Left leg folded and crossed - The right foot is bound, the thing that he is suspended by. But not the left foot. That is curled, but choice, behind the right. Right and left are often associated with *right* and *wrong* – mostly due to archaic thoughts of right handedness vs left handedness. Consider the positions of the legs – the right being at the forefront, and perfectly straight. The left behind, crooked and angled away, leading a different path than the right leg. When a person stands, legs are parallel, ending at the feet both firmly on the ground. Here, the legs end in different places, the right pointing towards the heavens, the left points away from the heavens.

Hands unseen - Are his hands bound, or does he keep them there of his own free will? We cannot tell. Regardless, they are still and idle, the ability to *do* taken away by circumstance or by choice.

Golden Halo - A crown or disc of light, a halo is used to represent holiness on religious figures, but also kings and heroes. Aside from holiness, it can also mean glory and enlightenment.

Number Twelve - This is the twelfth card in the Fool’s Journey, after Justice but before Death. It is the time between, rather a liminal card, where one surrenders to the end that Justice has brought. 

Thrawn is The Hanged Man

So how does this apply to Thrawn? 

I think it's most evident in Lesser Evil. Of course, one thinks of the ending of Lesser Evil, most especially Chapter Twenty-Eight, and Thrawn’s purposeful sacrifice of exile for his actions at Sunrise (and to some extent, through the whole Ascendancy trilogy and arguably the events of Outbound Flight). The exile was willing; he did not fight it, but saw the tactical implications of it. He surrendered to it (point #8), and through that surrender, he found a new way. Through his exile and subsequent service to the Empire, he found a new perspective (point #1). He found freedom, as he was no longer bound to the No Preemptive Strikes law of the Ascendancy. He was labeled a criminal, but also hailed as a hero by others (point #2). Like Odin on the World Tree, he hung himself to gain further knowledge and wisdom (point #3)

This exile, thus surrendering to the Justice of the Syndicure that lead to the Death of his career in the Ascendancy, was all by his consent (point #9) to Ba'kif's idea of it. 

The epilogue, narrated by Thrawn (the only time his POV turns up during the Ascendancy trilogy, even if it's a rehashing of the Prologue of Thrawn 2017), he has this line: "Among these aspirations is the desire that there will be a straight path to those goals." Just as Thrawn muses on paths, the Hanged Man depicts two via the position of his legs, the legs themselves a symbol of movement (point #5). You could ascribe the Straight leg pointing towards the heavens as doing what the Syndicure ruled, and thus Thrawn turned away from that, going along a crooked path instead, his fate sealed through martyrdom.

There's also the fact that Thrawn used a fake surrender to Jixus to ensnare him into a trap (point #6).

But even as we see The Hanged Man in Senior Captain Thrawn's Last Stand, there are other symbols that apply to Thrawn. His incredible patience (a type of surrender), for example, with those willing to learn and grow (like the Living Wood of the cross, point #3). The way he guides Thalias and Samakro to find the answers on their own, giving them information but passively allowing them to form their own conclusions instead of telling them the answer. There's his desire to learn and collect data to find enlightenment (points #4 and #7). Thrawn is more than happy to go with the flow of things to gain insight into his opponents, instead of stubbornly battering it head on, most especially if he can learn from it.

Next up: Samakro as The Emperor

[donotmindme1]

My idea for a potential DEATH BATTLE! #2

2023, August 16-31

Link to first post;

Yang Xiao Long vs. Akihiko Sanada (RWBY vs. Persona)

RWBY's heavy hitter and Persona's bruising boxer duke it out!

(I wanted to use "electric emperor", but Kanji Tatsumi can also be called that)

Fighter 1: Yang Xiao Long, the blazing dragon from RWBY.

Fighter 2: Akihiko Sanada, the specialist boxer of Persona's SEES.

Wiz: We may lose our loved ones to events out of our control, but that only leads us down a path to finding a new family to look after and care for.

Boomstick: And the best way to do it is by saving the world through punching! He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.

Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.

PREFACE:

We had Weiss vs. Mitsuru as an actual episode and Yates did a commission for Penny Polendina vs. Aegis, so why not our hard-hitting punching people? P.S., Don't think I hate RWBY. I just love the idea of certain RWBY characters fighting, nay, interacting with other fictional characters that are similar to them, especially if they have some sort of connection through crossovers.

WHY:

Connections:

1. Both fight via boxing and punching.

2. Both lost family members that served as motivation for their actions. Yang lost her stepmom and was abandoned by her birth mother, which led to a rough childhood for Yang, resulting in her thrill-seeking lifestyle (essentially living her childhood later on as she couldn't do it as a kid). Akihiko's sister died when they were both young and his best friend Shinjiro died, but he steeled his resolve which led to his Persona's growth. You can also add in Blake leaving Yang.

3. Both have a specific trait that they don't exhibit much but are now seen as the chore trait of their personalities due to side material. Those are their passions for puns and protein respectively.

4. Funnily enough, both have powerful connections to a younger sister (Ruby and Miki respectively).

Personal reasons: I'll be blunt, I want this to be another Balrog vs. TJ Combo. I think it could work, but the only other way I see this match starting would be an encounter similar to those of Tartarus, the Yellow Trailer, or Yang's interactions with Shay. What I want the most from the fight is for them to compliment each other's physical strength, treating the fight first like a friendly spar and then turning up the heat (like All Might vs. Might Guy). The encounter could happen in the open since both have a history of wandering in search of something (Yang would be on her bike, and she has searched for info on her mom and Akihiko traveled the world, searching to become stronger), which would come into play in the Notable Events. If Akihiko is shown in his P4A model, I'd want him to use his knife, but it'll likely not happen. I also want some lighting and hothead puns, and I think the golden colors of Yang's Blaze and golden colors will complement Caesar's blue and violet lighting as well as Aki's scarlet and black clothes.

THE FIGHT:

Art and animation: This one will either be 3D like Weiss vs. Mitsuru. It could also be a 2D fight like a potential BBCTB fight, but I think they'll go with the former because all RWBY fights (as of me writing this) have been in 3D so they could distinguish themselves from BBCTB. I think the animation from All Might vs. Might Guy or even Blake vs. Mikasa could work with the CQC involved, but the former is the better option.

Possible setup:

OPTION A: They're part of a tournament like the Yang vs. Bakugo DBX (Yang would look like she did in Vol. 1-3 and Aki would look like he did in P3 for some reason) or a boxing match a la Balrog and TJ Combo, or even Heihachi vs Geese. The prize is cash, which Yang wants for her bike and Aki wants for equipment, be it for boxing or the Tartarus quests. Or ramen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Introducing our fighters! In one corner, you have the blazing sunny dragon from Beacon, the fiery and explosive Yang Xiao Long! On the other, Gekkougan High's boxing captain, the shocking protein junky, Akihiko Sanada!" The announcer mumbles, asking someone near him whether or not this is the chick that broke a kid's leg even after she won a tournament match, but quickly gets back into the job.

Yang: "You better not go easy on me."

Akihiko: "Same to you, blondie."

They walk back to their corners and prepare themselves.

OPTION B: They encounter out in the open, likely in an urban scene like the Kingdom of Vale or Tatsumi Port Island. Yang is riding her bike, searching for something, be it info or thrills. However, a screaming man falls in front of her and she swerves out of the way, only to find more people falling out of the sky. She hopes to find the source of the commotion and see Aki punching out thugs. She speeds in, excited and ready for a fight.

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!/FIGHT! :

1. If the fight starts with Option B, then Yang enters like in Vol. 6's fight against Adam, so away goes her bike! Aki notices, and either punches away the vehicle or dodges out of the way. Yang skydives in, reeling in a punch. Aki prepares his own strike, and BOOM!

2. They both relish the combat. Their competitive natures lead them to be ever so slightly boastful, but they'll complement each other's power.

3. Akihiko summons Caesar and lightning is launched. Yang makes puns as a result: "Well, that was shocking."

4. Yang uses Ember Celica and Aki dodges.

5. Combos from BBCTB and P4A/U.

6. Yang takes advantage of both their up-close approaches and uses her bombs. The explosives catch Aki off guard.

7. Eventually, a strand of Yang's hair falls, and she notices. She thusly activates Blaze, and Aki is in awe of the increase in firepower (ba-dum-tss), even if momentarily, but he then embraces the challenge and rises to the occasion. "Bring it on!".

8. The ending is a clash of fists like in the cover of Brandon Yates's Blazing Fury, and it would pay homage to the Yellow Trailer and Akihiko's one-hit KO from the Arena games. If it's option A, then the arena, the spectators, and the announcer are blown away (ba-dum-tss) by the impact, and the winner is left standing, panting, and tired. However, they thank the loser for the fun and challenge. I want the winner to take one of the loser's weapons as a memorandum, but I don't think it'd be in character.

RESULT:

Strengths and weaknesses:

Yang:

+ Blaze allows for strength increase

+ Has ranged weaponry

≥ Has slight versatility due to her kicks and weapons

≥ Likely has longer experience due to her training under Taiyang

≥ Can likely dodge Caesar's lightning if scaled to Mercury

- Aura takes a long time to recharge

- Cannot activate Blaze without Aura

- Cannot exploit any weakness

Akihiko:

+ Caesar can quickly recharge if broken

+ Stronger and more durable

+ Has greater support due to Caesar's support spells like Power Charge

+ Has faced more dangerous opponents in Straega, the Full Moon Shadows, and the Red Fog clones.

= Can likely keep up with Yang as he has avoided lightning attacks

Ending puns:

"Don't Celica short; Akihiko went out in Blaze of glory."

"Yang was handed a defeat and Akihiko Caesar (see-zar) victory."

I wanted to use "got beaten to the punch" but Roshi vs. Jiraya had that as a punch line. Dio vs. Alucard used the "owned" punch line like Mario vs. Sonic 2018 but then added to it.

MUSIC:

Name: "Beat You To The Punch"

The title makes reference to Yang's love of puns and both their primary methods of fighting.

Art: The art would depict the two arm wrestling, Yang's arm blazing and Aki's having lightning coursing about it. There could be a Strawberry Sunrise with Caesar's sword in it in the background.

Sound: I Burn + Mass Destruction. The beginning is MD but with a rock vibe, and the climax has I Burn, like in Yang vs. Mercury.

THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!

[xwxsourcesandsignifcance]

Blog #3

"The semiotics of character design."

This time, we learnt about signs systems and semiotics, and how we are surrounded by them pretty much everywhere, ranging from the language we use to the media artifcats we consume. As a character artist, I am interested on how these visual signs are built to communicate a message, via multiple ways such as choice of clothing, hair, color palette and more. All of these concious choices by the designer have a reason for it, and all other possible choices that were excluded to convoy the particular story that the character is supposed to tell.

As such, I will analyze some characters whose designs have always interested me, and analyse why they work in the what they are trying to communicate, specifically via semiotics, paradigmatic and syntagmatic relations. For this purpose, I have chosen 2 characters that I have always liked, Artoria from the Fate franchise, and Bloody Queen from Identity V.

To start off, I will briefly explain what sign and semiotics is, as well as what paradigm and syntagm are.

Signs are defined by Chandler "as something which ‘stands for’ (or represents) something else. It can take any form – a word, an image, a sound, an odour, a flavour, an action, an event, an object, or whatever." (Chandler, Pg.2, 2022) When someone says a sign, what comes to mind normally are things like road signs. However, as Chandler explains, signs cover a whole wide range of different systems, as it is practically everywhere; objects, images, clothes, languages, etc. Basically when something is signifying something. Semiotics is the study of these signs. Signs are so varied and some can carry a lot of meanings with just one sign, that for example, emojis are getting recognized by dictionaries. Danesi states that Oxford named the emoji of "Face with tears of joy" as the word of the year in 2015. Even though emojis are not actual words, they can capture many different meanings and mood with just a picture. (Danesi, 2016)

In order to understand the relationships that can occur when multiple signs are used together, paradigmatic and syntagmatic expressions are created.

Paradigm is a collection of signs that belong in a way to similar categories, but are not the same. For example, all the colors are in the color category, but each color is unique. Said signs can be replaced with another one to create the appropiate message. Therefore, it can be said that paradigmatic relations can be considered as constrative. (Chandler, Pg.2, 2022)

Syntagm is the combination of the signs that have been chosen to form a meaning. An example is a sentence, that is composed of words which would be the sign, to signify a meaning. Syntagmatic relations are known as sequential.(Chandler, Pg.194, 2022)

Moving on to the characters now, Artoria is from the Fate franchise, and she has had many appareances across its universe. I will be using her original desgin from her first appearence, which is Fate Stay Night, a visual novel released in 2004. As a quick rundown of the story, historical figures are summoned to the real world as servants. These servants are classified between different type of weapons and personality traits, which they use as an alias to hide their real identity, with Artoria being a Saber user. These servants have the objective to fight with each other to death to obtain the Holy Grail, which will grant them and the person who summoned them a wish.

Fig.1: Artoria in Fate Grand Order

Starting with the syntagm of this image, on a surface level Artoria is a blonde skinny young looking woman. Her hair is short and tied in braids and bun. She is wearing a big drapey blue with gold adorment skirt and shoulder pads with the same colors. She wears armor elemnents and an armor breast, leaving only her face uncovered. And lastly, she wields Excalibur, the infamous sword. All these signs together are meant to represent Artoria.

On a paradigmatic analysis, this is where her design gets interesting. The most glaring choice is that Artoria who is meant to figure be King Arthur, is presented as a female person in the franchise. The artist probably did this one to make her stand out from all the Arthurs in media. Another reason could be to portray the mysoginism that existed back in medieval era as the public would not accept a queen as the ruler, and thus Artoria had to disguse herself as Arthur. (Thanatophobia4, 2017). The choice of her having some sort of dress rather than a full set of armor, which is what is expected for someoen to wear when going into a battlefied, is probably to show off her royalty side. The choice of blue and gold accentuates said royalty as those colors are usually associated with nobility, order and leadership. Same thing applies by giving her shoulder pads as they impose some sort of authority. Lastly, the choice by the designer to have her tied such way is to again, indicate how she respects order and precision, as her hair is tied in a clean manner.

For Artoria, while the syntagm might seem quite straightfoward, looking at the sings through the paradigm shows that all the deliberate choices were made with a reason, all the signs work together in cohesion to form the character design that the artist wanted to show.

As of my second character, is Bloody Queen from the game Identity V. Identity V is a mobile game released by NetEase in 2018. Identity V is an asymmetrical horror game of 1 Hunter vs 4 Survivors, very similar to Dead by Daylight. The 4 survivors have to escape from the hunter while the hunter has to get as mnay survivors dead as possible. Bloody queen belongs to the hunter faction.

Fig.2: Bloody Queen by NetEase

On a syntagmatic point of view, the signs tell how Bloody queen is a woman with short hair, wearing a pure red puffy dress. She has fully black eyes,stiches on her neck, and has a piece of broken glass as her weapon.

The paradigm of this design starts with her name already. Her hunter name is Bloody Queen, while her real name is Mary. She is in actuallity a mix between Marie Antoinette and the urban legend of Bloody Mary, which in summary, if you said Bloody Mary in a mirror 3 times, a ghost would appear and kill you. These 2 mixes of signs are present in her design. The artist chose to convey that with the stiches on her neck, which shows she was beheaded akin to Marie Antoinette. Her particular short hair was also purposefully chosen to be cut in a choppy and messy way, possibly representing how when she was beheaded, her hair was cut as well. Her puffy elegent dress is also a sign of royalty and nobility. To represent the Bloody Mary side of her character, the piece of mirror shard is the most obvious sign, and thats why she does not have any other type of weapon instead. The pure redness of her dress is also another conscious choice made by the artist to show off Bloody Mary. And lastly, her fully black eyes could represent how she is a vengeful spirit, just like in the legends.

The syntagm of this design tells a cohesive character, however, a paradigmatic analysis is able to show how the particular signs are able to create a story for the character throughout the signs present.

All in all, I thiink syntagmatic and paradigmatic analysis are very useful tools for an artist, even more so for a character artist like myself. Syntagm is important to create a good first impression of the character, while paradigm is when the details and reasons of deliberate choices can be seen. I have learnt these 2 new tools in depth, and I will definetly apply it towards my future designs.

References

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Chandler, D (2022), Semiotics: the Basics, Taylor & Francis Group, Oxford. Available from: ProQuest Ebook Central.

Danesi, Marcel (2016). The Semiotics of Emoji : The Rise of Visual Language in the Age of the Internet, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc . ProQuest Ebook Central, Available at:http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=4659857.

Thanatophobia4 (2019). Reddit - Dive into anything. [online] Available at: https://www.reddit.com/r/Fate/comments/d5st4w/why_is_arthur_female/

[sin-sidejob]

Insidious Inside Job: Halloween pt. 2

Note: Inspired by skoshibuns fanart on instagram + I have songs linked with each segment for the specific portion that goes with the monster, the plot, or both + reminder, I may be an english major but this thing is barely proofread

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, AFAB + GN PRONOUNS, RAW SEX (wrap that rascal), monster-fucking, tentacle fucking, inhuman creatures, furry fucking? One brief scene of alluded almost sexual assault/assault (that gets stopped and interrupted) incredibly vague nothing actually happens, drug use/roofied/narcotics, I guess, werewolf (slight A/B/O dynamics), breeding kink, talks of missing body parts and death, cockwarming, somnophilia the undead, zombies, doctor play, doctor kink, doctor/fake patient, living dead, experimentation with cadavers and dead bodies, mention of illness/cancer, various Halloween-y phenomena + probably more

Content: smut, spooky scary spectral holiday smuttening, monster and inhuman creature fucking, usual debauchery you can expect from me, dicks and pussy, inhuman and monster genitalia, reader has AFAB nethers/genitalia and a cunt but I don’t describe about tits so folks are safe, I used gender neutral pronouns all throughout as well. Mentions of underwear and generalized clothing but no bras or gendered articles of clothing. Southernification of Robotus (you’ll see) + probably more

! ! ! This is part two, with Reagan + Brett + Andre + Robotus + Myc. Part one, located here, includes Gigi + JR + Glenn + a bonus character ! ! !

Reagan Ridley: MAD SCIENTIST

• songs: Evil Eye - Franz Ferdinand

- You were used to the chaotic cadence that came with knowing and loving the reclusive Dr. Ridley, enjoying the maniacal dynamic and aiding her in her experiments, helping her tidy up should a test go awry. You aided her in all her endeavors, even the unsightly ones, and that dedication and mutual trust blossomed into friendship and then eventually love and list. Simple creatures, you two were, and instincts were a gravitational pull as equally potent to magnets as to mankind.

- The latter half of the year, when the weather turns and the leaves change and shed their green covers to don the classic golden hues, is when she came alive even more. She found energy in the fall and winter weather, more likely to be within the confines of her laboratory and adding scrawled, scratch-like lines into her notebooks and texts, running about with her coat billowing behind her like a shadow tethered to her, fluttering beside her with the grace of a conspirator.

- There were times when she would not need your assistance and you would be free and left to your own devices, wandering about the extravagant library and traipsing through the halls, snooping where you shouldn't, and happily receiving your punishments. Life was good and continued to be so, almost mundane in an unnatural, phenomenal way. There was no dark side of the moon to you, only the light because the shadows were your home, and the person you called lover languished alongside you in Moonglow-shaded craters.

- But your favorite moments had to be when it was you she was examining, you who she was teasing and playing with, black patent leather gloves that were entirely unsafe and unethical in a lab environment used on your form, drawing out pinpricks of chills. Especially now as Reagan hums at the sight of your disheveled state, silent beside her idle noises and internalized dialogue as if she is annotating already-written notes within the confines of her brain of you as her hands draw out more data to analyze, almost pulling all your secrets pool forth from moaning lips via her ministrations.

- Reagan is seldom tender or ginger in her touch, not in a harshness but more in a neutral, guiding, directing manner. Like moving you about with the same grace as working with her equipment and tools, movements memorized and muscles well-accustomed to all that you are. She can be softer, in aftermath moments where your body and senses can not make heads or tails of where the two of you ended or began, fully enwrapped and enveloped in one another like coiled vines of ivy, cascading upwards and intertwining in great efforts. But now, her touch is not soft, but steady and purposeful.

- Cold gloves remove clothing and secure straps onto your body, across your limbs, and holding you tight against a weathered and soft wooden table, built with the intention to be used for medical seminars and demonstrations. You lay, naked and taut upon a staged table in the center of an empty auditorium for the use of educational experimentation presentations and viewing seminars for research and study. The arena on her property is empty, no event planned for today, just the two of you in the grand room and feeling infinitesimally small, yet powerful simultaneously.

- "Not too tight?" Dr. Reagan Ridley asks softly as she busies herself with hovering over the straps that secure your wrists and ankles to the examination table, gloved hands running along oiled leather seams. "Perfect." is your answer and her smile matches the word, pride in her eyes at her wonderful assistant, her previous lover. "There's my darling, now what are te rules?" she asks, unbuttoning her labcoat to expose her blouse and slacks beneath, slinky and clinging to her body in a way that makes your firsts clench just so, palms opening and closing with the yearning need to touch.

- "Nuclear is stop, gradient is slow down, and prism is keep going, or good." you answer, squirming a bit against the restrains for show and shuffling your ass against the soft wood, feeling the cool air caress your exposed, already leaking pussy. "Wonderful," the Doctor trails off, wandering away from the table and leaving you to lay spread and scan your eyes across the planetarium-painted ceiling above and marvel at the gold leaf details in the stars and constellations, drawing you back in when she returns and adjusts her gloves with a small thwack, "now, where should we begin?"

- You don't respond immediately, not knowing how or where to answer, unable to distinguish a clear mood in her dark eyes for what she wants and what she is planning to take from you. The hesitation makes Reagan decide on her own, a dark chuckle emerging from her lips and settling in the base of your spine, curling like a funnel stormcloud. "Alright then, guess it's up to Doctor's orders." She smooths softened leather against your inner thighs and parts your lips, blowing cool air in puffs against your exposed cunt and clicking her tongue in notes as her mind wanders in fascination.

- "I think I'll start here, test your sensitivity first hmm?" she asks aloud, mainly to herself, the table raised to her waist so she can easily maneuver around you and toy with you, like a doll. It feels all like a pleasurable version of The Princess Bride's pit of despair but mixed with a sex dungeon and none of the latex. "There, how does that feel?" it feels good, decent, not enough as the first portion of her pointer finger breaches your walls, the texture not adding much besides a cooler sensation. You answer the same, and she hums before moving on, shifting in a manner reminiscent of a cat's sly sway.

- "Space for improvement, good." she comments, a stray hair falling into her forehead from her tight ponytail, dark hair pulled back and away from her face and allowing you to fully watch her move and her shifting expressions. She thrusts the finger into you, slowly and watching as you clench around her, gaping and closing in a rhythmic pattern. "And this?"

- "its g-good too," you choke out, shifting your head from looking at her to nothing, eyes shut and you try not to squirm, letting her venture as she pleased, "but not good enough?" Reagan asks, and you nod in agreement, prompting her to curl her finger upwards, matching with her second finger, and smirking, brows arching as she watches you grow more and more disheveled.

- "ah," you moan out, lip tugged between your teeth as you bite down, fists clenching and unclenching once the pleasure begins to initially build, feeling it bubble forth in your belly like a tide pool on the beach, collecting and growing as more gets put into it. "Now that's a reaction, keep speaking beautiful." she directs, curling in upward strokes from within your walls

- You nod, mewling a bit as your voice breaks and pitches, feeling her slide in another digit, pointer finger to ring finger all slotted. Her gloves are thicker, making the stretch a bit wider than what you're accustomed to, and you break a tad, grinding your hips down and wriggling, aching to get something more, and that something ends up being Reagan's attention.

- "Oh this won't do, I think you need some more advanced methods." Reagan murmurs, enjoying the look on your face as she steps back and out of your line of vision, holding back laughter as you whine and make confused tones, wondering why she stopped when she had finally gotten to the good part. "Easy now, just a moment, you can be patient for me, can't you?"

- "Yes, Doctor." She whips her head around and drops the tool in her hand, and you're worried for a second she didn't like you saying that but she arrives moments later with a silicone dick and a small vibrator in hand, accompanied by a sly grin. "Doctor, hm? We're keeping that." she states as she sets the items in her hands down beside you on the flat table, now away from your sight before you could see any of the specific characteristics or facets.

- You squirm again, chills from the exposed air finally overriding the pleasure in your veins and cooling your body. Reagan tuts at that, smoothing her dry glove up your thigh in an attempt to warm you up, "phrase?" she asks, gentle and present as she looks at you. "Prism." she smiles and nods before her expression shifts, popping the cap off a bottle of lube and warming it between her hands as she looks you over, a small smile emerging once she spots your cunt, clenching around nothing from the show she put on of her rubbing her palms together with her exposed forearms rippling.

- "Ready for me?" she asks, adjusting her gloves and then sucking off the slick residue from her one hand, purposely staring you down as she does it with intent. "Always, Doctor." a shudder that she fails to try and hide rolls through her spine at that, not fully used to you ever calling her that, especially when you're bare and at her mercy.

- "good answer." Reagan responds, lubing up the silicone and sliding it through your folds slowly, watching as you tense and begin to grind. Her hand plants your hip down still, forcing it to stop as she fixes you a warning look while she props the dick near your cunt.

- Sliding it in, she sinks the silicone dick deep into you and watches as your cunt takes it in, noting aloud how the gloves prepped you better than what she does manually glove-free. Keening out, you force yourself still and feel her hand move to instead grip your hip instead of planting it still, guiding you along in a tempo that matches the ministrations of her other hand, fucking the fake dick into you over and over slowly, picking up the pace gradually.

- "That seems to be treating you better. You agree?" barely managing a nod, you respond with a grunting moan as she angles the silicone against a spot of nerves, making you jolt and gasp. "I'll take that as a yes." Reagan jokingly responds to herself, reaching the hand once on your hip to reach away and grab the vibrator, eager to get your pent-up self breaking and shattering like glass.

- You don't realize what's happening, too blissfully unaware due to how she continues flicking her wrist, rocking the dick into you at a pace that builds tension but doesn't get that knot of pleasure unraveling at all. When the vibrator comes to life and thrums in her hand, your head whips up in that instant Pavlovian response, knowing she's about to make you see God.

- "Holy fuck please use that thing on me." you blurt out immediately, drawing a laugh from her that's dark while she fixes you a warning look, a brow raised and you rush to find your words. "Please, Doctor." Reagan hums, pleased, and then reaches down to plant the vibrator on your clit, rolling it in circles and shapes that make your legs struggle against the stirrup-like straps, body wriggling and squirming as it tries to get comfortable to handle getting fucked this way.

- "Well would you look at that, pretty damn effective." She muses, upping the vibrator speed casually with one hand as the other splits you open on the silicone cock with ease. "Next time we're going to have to test this with having both of your holes filled, probably get you squirting in minutes."

- The idea alone that she planted like a seedling in your head blooms, making you even more turned on if possible. The way the dick nestled the spots inside that already got you seeing stars? Multiplying the effect. And now the vibrator rolling over your clit and thrumming incredibly sends you over the edge, barely able to warn her coherently before you cum with a squealing moan.

- "Fucking gorgeous," Reagan marvels, fucking you through it and lowering the setting on the vibrator, still keeping it there but rolling it in softer, smoother motions while she gently fucks the dick into you, working through an orgasm that she manages to draw out for roughly a minute or so. "So goddamn pretty like this."

- She keeps going for a while until your legs stop shaking, then she removes the toys from you and moves about, undoing the straps and stirrups holding you then grabbing a nearby blanket and wrapping you up in it. You sit up and scoot over to the side of the table, legs hanging off as Reagan stands before you, smoothing your hair back and checking you over.

- She busies herself with rolling her fingers over the slightly indented marks where the straps were, double checking to make sure you were okay but she doesn't catch your adoring, sleepy look until you tap at her arm and then raise your hand to lift her chin, beaming dazedly at her. "Hi Reagan." you murmur, pressing kisses to her cheek and jaw lazily.

- "Hello yourself, feeling okay?" she asks, amusement in her tone as she looks you over, making sure you're fully covered in the blanket and warm, trying to prevent you from getting overly cold.

- You giggle and look up at her, grinning wide and honest, "I could not be any fucking better than I am right now, now gimme' a kiss." Reagan obliges, and everything fades as it always does around her, in the best and most comforting blur.

Brett Hand: FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER

• song: Body - Mother Mother or My Boy Builds Coffins - Florence + The Machine

- Brett wishes he could manage to carve a place for himself in your life and at your side with as much ease as he has with loving you, completely enthralled and enamored with everything you are, all that you’ve been, and all that you’ll be. He’s fascinated by you and the intricacies in your movements and routines, the way your brows furrow when confused or frustrated, the smile you don’t show unless you’re caught by surprise and unable to remember hiding it.

- He gathers these little facets of yourself like river rocks and stones, wearing them down in the revisits of his memory, rolling them flat and small but soft in the way he reveres them. If only you loved him like he loved you. If only you actually knew him, not just of him. You’ve met before, known of each other practically since his initial creation. Yet he’s not satisfied because he doesn’t know what it’s like to be with you, only knowing you at the arms reach that he has from you helping him and fixing him up.

- You’re an assistant to his father, his creator, an up-and-coming scientist fascinated with his methods in Reanimation and modern-age necromancy, hoping to study his techniques and model some of his talents with your own. His father, Dr. Quentin Hand, made all of his siblings as initial creations and had Brett last, the youngest and most rushed one of the collection. He was an accumulation of spare parts, the battered bits left in the barrel, a literal representation of what comes from patchwork scientific craft and lacking interest. That’s not to say you didn’t treat him kindly or matched his father's lack of enthusiasm.

- No, you treated him carefully, just like the rest of his siblings. You gave him extra attention and care, sewing back on fingers should they get snagged and fall off his hand, making a few jokes all the while you thread the needle and fish it in and out of his flesh about how his hand’s should be better taken care of, especially since it’s his last name.

- his heart was monitored and he prayed you hadn’t caught the speeding up of the pace, the rapid ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum of his pre-owned heart firing off in awe of you and your presence. If you did, you don’t mention it and you just continue hemming and stitching him back together, returning his ring finger back onto his left hand with care, humming all the while some song stuck in the back of your head.

- “there,” you nearly startle him, pulling him from his reverie with a pat to his knee as you sit up from your chair and clean up, putting your supplies away and disinfecting, “all fixed. Let me know if there’s any trouble with your seams again and I’ll patch you up — no sweat.” His eyes, one hazel and the other bright blue, peer up at you with nothing short of pure adoration. It’s always there, poor boy can’t do anything to hide it. He just loves you is all.

- "Thank you, I'm sorry you have to always fix me up all the time." Brett states, rubbing his arm subconsciously, truly meaning it and knowing it had to be at least a little redundant to mend him after every trip and fall or tumble down the steps. Poor thing had no balance, something you try to work on in your spare time between projects and lessons with Brett's father. You turn, taking your gloves off and disposing of them while looking his way, a sad frown on your face making his dissipate like smoke. "Why are you sorry for that? It's not something you can help, sweet boy, and besides --" you trail off while stepping near him and fixing his hair and looking down at his still-sitting form, "I'm happy to help you, its what I'm here for!"

- and with that, you depart, heading to another appointment to experiment under supervision, He dreads the days that come forward now, nearing when you would be leaving since your education under the apprenticeship of his father ends to a close. You'd be gone, with your own experiments and helpers, a life completely devoid of him. he likes to think you'd write him or call, maybe see his name scrawled in your looping cursive handwriting and hear your words drawn across a page and yearn to find your love within them.

- but even he, Brett, a lovesick optimist knows that would be too good to be true. Within the month, you'd pack and leave and the spanning acres of his family's estate would be empty of your presence. Your quarters would miss your belongings, the posters, and art on the walls, the little personal items and books littered about. It would be as if you were never there, but to Brett, he would always remember you being there. He may have been reanimated, but the days where you roamed the halls and came across his sight were the only days he felt truly alive.

- Little did he know that you had been planning your departure for years and hoped you would go about it, what exactly you would leave or sell, what you would pack, how you would pack, and who you would take with you. "Dr. Hand, I have a request," you start, making casual conversation while you've currently got your forearms embedded in a cadaver's inner organs, organizing things, "I was wondering if I could take one of the experiments with me when I leave early this week?"

- Doctor Quentin Hand is no meek creature, nor does his stature indicate such. he was almost frighteningly tall, but with age has developed a slight hunching slouch making him roughly 6'5 with the rugby player's stature. The man is thick and bulky, with a head full of auburn hair turning grey and the shade of sunned strands with his age. "Depends on which of the creations you'd call to you, and if they'd like to go. The eldest are off limits, but should one of the children agree, you are free to take them. But only one."

- he is currently invested in combining chemicals to inject within the bloodstream when reanimation is to take place later, and luckily so. He misses your entire face light up, beaming from ear to ear behind your surgical mask and eyes glowing with excitement. "I've already decided who I'd like to bring with me."

-"Oh?" he doesn't even turn, swirling an open beaker that smells of disinfectant and acid, "who?". Dr. Hand shows no concern and even that worries you, knowing there was little love shown to the creations, and none whatsoever to your favorite. "I was planning to take Brett, the youngest of them."

-He waves a gloved hand and nods, "Of course, pack his things if he hasn't already. Be sure to invest in a lot of sutures and sewing materials as well, you will definitely need it." if you didn't need this formal apprenticeship, you would've killed him with his own reanimating equipment. "Yes sir."

- later, when you have cleaned up, changed, and wrapped up the experiment which once again went as a success, you settle down in your room and continue backing up your personal belongings into extra bags and suitcases for the items you gathered in your time here. A record plays, crackling initially but still pouring out the cadence of the Lungs album from Florence + The Machine as you wander about, clearing your shelves and delicately folding posters and emptying the walls.

- just as you flip over the vinyl to the b side, a knock rattles against your door. When you open it, you didn't expect Brett's tear-stained face to be the first thing you see. Nor did you expect him to rush and hug you, drawing you into his form and holding you close while he buries his head in your shoulder. "Why do you have to leave?"

- You think it's cruel, but it was always going to be a surprise for you to take him with you. The feelings were obvious and only reciprocated a few months ago. Sadly, you couldn't act on them until you got out from under the eyes of Doctor Quentin for Brett's sake and safety. But now that's not a worry, and you leave after breakfast tomorrow morning with the patchwork babydoll of a man before you.

- The sight enough is heartbreaking, especially with the direct feel of his tremors shaking through him, and then through you with the closeness. It takes several attempts to ease his cries and pry him up from your shoulder, stepping back to close the door behind him then flicking the lock shut before you cup his cheek and lift his head upwards. "Brett, sweetheart, how could you think I'd leave without you?" you soothe, thumbs rolling over his cheek and swiping tears away. "I wanted to surprise you but I think you need to hear it now, I'm taking you with me. I was never going to leave without you in the first place."

- Brett blinks blearily, wiping the tears from his multicolored eyes to stare at you openly and dart his gaze between your own eyes. "You're serious?" he asks, still buried in disbelief, "why would you want to take me, you barely even like me." Brett's met with laughter, not caustic or harsh and at his expense like what he's used to, yours is lighthearted and kind, just like your eyes. "Sweetheart, I care for you a great deal beyond just liking you." you say, taking his hands in yours, the ones you've constantly tended to like the rest of him.

- "What does that mean?" Brett asks, squeezing your hands tight and finding it impossible to look anywhere in the room besides your face. "It means I love you, silly thing, and I refuse to let you stay here any longer when you deserve the world. Let me show it to you." His tears reappear again but its relief, the feeling that swarms his body and makes him feel shrouded in Moonglow. You care for him, you love him, that his years of pining after you and hoping, praying for a miracle were worth it. You loved him, your silly ragdoll.

- "Say it again." he says, his hands moving from yours to your waist, brushing the bare skin where your shirt has ridden up with ease, aching to feel more of your warm skin in his palms. "I love you Brett." you murmur, forehead pressed to his as you press your palms to his chest, fingertips tracing the material of his henley while humming in a pleased tone once his hands begin to wander.

- "One more time." he whispers as he leans forward to catch your lips with his, admiring how your eyes flutter shut when he does. You kiss, lips shifting back and forth as you murmur how you loved him into his open mouth like a secret, and he'd cherish and protect it as such. Brett pulls back, palms cupping your warm cheeks just as you had previously with tender grace and you spot his tears have ended.

- "I will never let you down," he promises, smile bright and crooked, perfectly him and equally as charming, "I swear, you'll never regret this, never." and you know its the truth, not because he says it but because you've known for ages that there was no one else you'd care for this much. As if he was made solely for you, perfectly patchworked together.

- In an act of bravery or stupidity, you grab his hand and step backward towards your still-made bed, peering up at him from lidded eyes. "I know that, but how about you show me just how much you love me right here, hm?" you tease, loving how his mouth fell agape and his arms fled to your waist again, eagerness steeped into his actions like tea. "Can I?" brett asks, always the soft, chivalrous, perfect man. "Absolutely." you respond, already ushering out of the shirt and baring your chest to his hungry, heterochromial eyes.

- he spares no time in crowding you against the bed, climbing atop your languid form and pressing doting kisses at your lips then making his way down to your neck, eagerly leaving hickeys and marks while he undoes your belt and shucks your pants down. He bares your underwear to him and leaves you to kick off your socks with your pants, making a pile on your rug you don't mind at all. "Can I taste you?" he practically pleads, lifting up to stare down at you, beating you to the question you were just about to ask him, making you laugh once more, still that lighthearted sweet sound. "Maybe later, and then ill be able to suck you off. Right now I just want you in me, Brett. That okay?"

- he's torn between crying, busting a load in his jeans, or both. Brett just nods, lip tugged between his teeth and moving with all the enthusiasm of a hyperactive puppy, kneeling on the floor to help you slide off your underwear and nearly drooling the second he spots your bare cunt. He's running on more basic, bare instincts but wants nothing more than to flood your cunt with his cum and keep it there, keep himself there as long as he can. Never wants to leave you, and he never wants the marks and signs of him on you to fade either.

- "are you-" "yes I'm sure Brett, now can you please take your clothes off so I can ride you?" he nearly trips over himself in the process of standing and yanking off his shirt, which he does in that hot lift it from the back of the neck and tug it forward trademark style that has a new layer of slick pool forth. His jeans are mid-rise but are slung low, boxers peaking out briefly before he abandons those too, revealing one appendage you never had to mend. You're a bit glad, you ended up with a surprise too tonight, who would've thought?

- Brett returns, not knowing where to sit or lay until you shove him back to sit against the pillows upright, allowing you to sit on his lap and lay your arms over his shoulders while hovering, teasing before you to be gifted this man's virginity just like you were given his heart and soul. "You sure, baby?" you murmur, knees outside of his own and pressed chest to chest, "I can wait however long you need to." Brett grins, playful and teasing in his own way, and nips at your lip. "I'm okay, m'good, cant wait t'see what it feels like to be buried in you, probably even warmer than you feel right now." He emphasizes with a large and running up your bare spine, sending you arching and your knees threatening to buckle. You sometimes forget how big he is, and with the hefty dick bobbing near his stomach, you're not sure how you could have ever forgotten.

- "Take me then, babydoll" and he does, large hands encompassing your hips as he guides you to sit on his dick, slowly letting it enter and let you get accustomed, "there you go, nice and - fucking tight" Brett murmurs, voice deeper and getting you more riled up than you know what to do with. You had seen him bare plenty of times, but never fully, and the experience was doing you wonders right now as you rested for a moment and let him breathe before you started bouncing on him and making him cum way earlier than you know he'd like. You'd enjoy it anyway.

- He whines after a few moments, his hips shifting and making you both groan, his head falling back into the pillows and his fair falling into disarray, strands of auburn and reddish brown falling into his forehead. "Please, just fuck me, have me I just need you." Brett whines into your neck again, no tears this time as his arms wrap tautly around your form, allowing you to feel divinely sculpted muscles hold you tight and made your walls clench, relishing in his squeaking moan. You'd break him. good thing you know how to put him back together. "Easy baby, I've got you." you murmur, smoothing back his hair before you lower to your haunches and lift your hips, slamming back down and sending him yelling your name while biting his teeth into your shoulder.

- Oh yes, you were absolutely going to break him.

- You fuck yourself on him, feeling his hands grip and drag across your body as you use him, rolling your hips in shapes, occasionally spelling his name out through your gyrations and smiling to yourself as you watch him fall further and further into a mess, hair mussed, mouth agape and eyes tight shut. The skin of his lip is nearly broken open from how much he's bitten and tugged on it, puffy and reddened on his flushed and freckled face. Brett rises and clings back onto you, suddenly shifting his hips and fucking up into you, letting you hear louder slaps of skin against skin while he manhandles you. "M'gonna' cum, gotta' cum can I please cum — I wanna cum so bad, please." he begs, planting kisses at your collarbone and pulse sporadically between broken moans and pants.

- You never expected the reaction nor your own, unable to fight the feeling emanating from your soaked and silken cunt as he fucks up into it, stretching you wide in a way you'll never be tired of. "You can cum, go on and fill me, Brett, wanna' feel you for days. Please Brett, make me feel good." your boy delivers, jackhammering into you and making you cry out, tugging at his hair while his hands plant themselves at your waist in order to maneuver you around, biting deep at your shoulder when he cums with a broken, shattered shout of your name.

- The way his hips stutter in that frantic pattern, battering your cunt that has you squirming and grinding, you cum rapidly and heavily, whiting out and feeling your surroundings blur to nothing as you repeat his name over and over, clawing down his back as he slows and finally stops, holding you impossibly close. You take longer than he does recover and return to the world, head lolled back and breathing heavy, allowing brett to lay the two of you down and upon the pillows, wrestling the comfort and sheets over your sweat-slicked body and his.

- He always wanted to be a part of your life, and now, years later, he can't stop smiling and hasn't stopped since. Your silly, smiling ragdoll of a husband.

Andre Lee: W E R E WO L F

• song: Howlin’ for You - The Black Keys

- Andre was superficially open, not talking of more intimate aspects of his life but being carelessly free with the rest, and the personal factoids and tidbits emerge in passing comments in conversation send your brain whirling.

- he’s never answered any of your questions as to why he avoids full moons or why he’s unreachable during some times of the month, closest you’ve gotten was Myc cracking a joke about menstruation but you know damn well from a fuck ton of personal experience that he’s absolutely packing heat.

- he’d been sick the past few days, not fully present in meetings and a bit light headed. It got shrugged off as side effects from any number of drugs but you knew better. The disregard and dismissals that came from him when you showed concern were what made that worry and concern grow, manifesting and sprawling into a thorny expanse of knots tugging at your conscious, fixated on helping him.

- so you stand before an older home, 1920’s brick masonry hidden behind modern day paint, sidled beside the other brownstones on the block and fish out your key on the chain he gifted you, a little cartoonish duck smiling brightly while flipping you off, and turn the series of locks in the door while balancing some takeout on the other side.

- after several moments, you make it inside and lock back up, setting your keys alongside Andre’s in the bowl near the door and spotting the matching fuck duck keychain and smiling before making your way through the house, easily navigating through the darkness and making it to the kitchen to drop off some takeout for the egg drop soup he always ordered when sick. “Andre?” You get no response, the house quiet and your brows furrow while your lips purse, that worry unfolding again, “sugar? Where are you?” You get no response and your words echo in the house

- you get no response but you hear a groan, muffled and heady, soft and barely heard. But it’s his, and you drop everything in your hands upon the counter and follow the sound, brain a slurry of what ifs and remembering his medical history should you need it. By the time you make it back further in the house and to his bedroom, the doors locked shut. Real shut. You knock harshly and call to him, voice a bit desperate “Andre honey, you okay?”

- “go away.” It’s him, but not, deeper and meaner that the Andre you’re used to. It’s not a deterrent. “Not if you’re not okay, let me in.” You try the doorknob again and he shouts out “it’s not safe for you right now, go away.” He says more but you don’t hear it through the door. “What do you mean it’s not safe, Andre let me in.” you cry back, banging the side of a fist against the door, beating it loudly trying to persuade him to let you in. Probably not the most convincing manner.

- “GO! You’re not supposed to be here, m’gonna hurt you.” confusion could not even begin to explain what was going through your head, throat taut with fear, “Andre, I could give a fuck, I’m not leaving you like this.” He’s pleading in a sad rage, like a storm with no lightning, all thunder, “I don’t want t’hurt you, please, please just go.” You refuse, and say the same before you break the lock on the door then try and come in, not getting through until you back up and ram a shoulder into it once, twice, finally busting it on the third impact.

- he had warned you for good reason, and the yellow eyes that meet your gaze from a huddled, shadowed corner solidify that. “Should’ve run.” comes murky from him, his mouth moving oddly and you realize with horror he’s not in his regular body. It’s a larger, hulking form of shaggy fur in muted brown and chestnut hues, dusted with black and grey into a slurry of fur. A fucking wolfman was not on your list. “Werewolf?”

- “Yeah.”

- “Considering our jobs — this isn’t all too horrifying.” He bares his teeth, canines glinting, “I take that back — somewhat.” Andre chuckles, darker but remains curled in on himself in the corner of the room, staying far away from you. “Why am I not supposed to be here sugar?” You ask softly, stepping hesitantly further into the room and eyeing him warily, unsure about the entirety of this situation and wishing Elliot fucking Mothman had better-prepped staff for other forms of cryptids.

- “‘cause I’ll fuck y’ and I won’t stop.” He growls out, nails digging into knees bare of clothing and covered in fur, “not safe f’you, I could hurt you.” He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, eyes turned away and trying to shrink as far as possible into the corner, wanting to keep you at bay before his senses and instincts took over and took you. Andre doesn’t see you, but he feels you in the room. The way you smell and he puffs of breath, the thud of your heart.

- so he immediately clocks the second your pulse races at his words and how your heart flutters, along with your cunt. Andres eyes snap back to you just in time to see a shy but sensual smile on your lips. “What if I want you to hurt me?” Is what he hears from your lips, and he forces himself to sit still, ignore the erection against his thigh and the urge to fuck you until your womb got stuffed to the brim and he got you knocked up. “You better mean that.”

- “oh,” you strip yourself of your shirt and other clothes swiftly, like a subtle strip tease but far smoother and graceful than anticipated, “I mean it. Show me how much you love me sugar, I can take it.” You walk over to the bed on the other side of the room, curling up against the pillows and grin, spreading your legs and exposing the entirety of yourself, eager to mark off this box on your sexlist checklist. “Fucking better.” Is what Andre responds with, rising slowly and missing the tall ceiling by merely a foot, taking his gangly form towards the bed and closing his eyes, sniffing visibly and having his body falter, your scent encompassing any logic he had left.

- “look at that,” he chitters, teeth making his grin a bit more daunting, “already spread for me. Cute. Now turn around.” Andre orders, lurking before the bed as you shift, resting on your folded forearms and raising your ass in the air. “Good,” he praises, a hand grazing your arched waist while he settles behind you, “couldn’t follow orders earlier, but that’s just because you were worried, hm? Going to be good f’me now. I know it.” Andre settles himself on his knees behind you, arms planted on either side of your torso and he leans atop you, breath fanning your ear as he teases you, makes the eager nerves alight as goosebumps trail across your bare, vulnerable form.

- “gonna’ let me fuck you? Let me bury my cock in your pretty cunt over and over until there’s nothing left in you but me?” He muses, erection tapping at your ass and feeling much heavier than what you’re used to. You hum, trusting him to take care of you and fuck you right. “Mhm, let you stuff me like a fuckin’ brood mare, now please, c’mon and fuck me Andre.” He swats your ass with his hand, watching the fat of it jiggle and your waist bend high, “don’t have to tell me twice.”

- You bite back a few comments the second he brushes his flared, sloped cockhead into the opening of your cunt, the tip alone bringing a stretch of pain. Burying your head in the pillows around your forearms, you mewl and whimper aloud tossing both your head and your ass back. Andre’s one hand is beside your torso to plant himself while the other is on your hip, guiding your hips back towards him so he can slowly enter and sink his cock into you. "Atta' babe" he croons, breath fanning across your back in a way that makes your spine tingle.

- He lets out a whine that huffs hot air across your spine, sinking in his cock as much as your cunt can fit, several inches still untended to between where the two of you meet. His balls brush your clit when he bottoms out, and he stills, Andre's restless lungs beating his chest into your back and you can feel him through and through. "Fuck, tight little cunt, gonna' fucking break it." Andre groans low and heady as he begins to rock back and forth, in a humping motion that sends his balls smacking into your clit with little pats, making you grateful a hand now plays underside and holds your belly while the other holds him up, your body on the precipice of collapse with the angle, the feeling, all of it.

- "fucking stuff me," you blurt, pathetically trying to rock your hips back into his and you cry out each time, bulbous cockhead nudging your cervix with each shift, feeling him in your guts, "breed me full, knock me up." These were words you had used previously during sex with him, the concept not being new, only to the situation at hand. With Andre being fueled by rampant urges and instincts, barely holding on, your words were like an on-switch that sends him immediately pressing you into the bed and snapping his hips roughly, snarling. into the skin of your neck like he's on a mission, and in a way, he is. Meant to mate.

- "ah, oh fuck, Andre." you keep crying out his name between crying out incoherencies, encompassed by the way he absolutely fucked the breath from your lungs, knocking everything out of you and then drawing it back in just as he slots in, and out of your drenched, dripping cunt, slick now sprawling from his dick and balls, your thighs, to the torn and tossed sheets beneath. There's a fleeting, barely conscious thought of now knowing why sex was called the beast with two backs, the words of Othello never even a full thought as you get plowed from behind.

- oh yeah, you were never going to leave him to deal with a full moon alone, not if this is what your good deeds and diligence get you - being bent over like a broodmare and fucked like it's a need to survive, to breathe. You are livin' good.

- "taking me so damn well, gonna' pump you full, fill you over and over until others no space inside that I haven't covered." he rambles, hurried and frenzied and deep in pitch, snapping his hips rapidly as the sound of skin slapping melts into a blur with the heavy pants and breaths, the snarls and moans and groans the two of you let out, animalistic and primal, fucking elite and top tier in your honest, raw-dogged opinion. "Gonna' give you a child, claim this fucking pussy, all of it, s'all mine."

- You groan out, burying your head in your forearms and feeling his weight atop you, the way he keeps bullying his giant dick into you and fucking you apart, working you like dough in the way he works you over. "Like that? Like me marking you up, being Andre's breeding bitch?" he snarls, sounding so potent in your ear where his head hovers, splayed across your back while his hips do the work.

-"Just feel that," he murmurs, hand pressing into the fat of your belly to press against where he thrusts into you, making you squeal into the pillows as he shows off, his demeanor so contrasting than how he usually is, even in a raging fuck, "gonna' fill you to the brim, baby, already stretching you wide. Belly full of me."

- "God, please — fuck," you're babbling, fucked out and quote literally drooling upon your forearms and the pillows holding your head up, as backing into his thrusts and mewling with the brush of his balls against your clit, everything wet and sloppy, "wanna' be bred, wanna' be yours — I wanna' be yours." Andre lets out snarling laughs, darker than abyssal skies, into your shoulder blades which he litters with nips and bites of sharp teeth, little pinpricks adding to the utter euphoria of getting absolutely pounded.

- "gonna cum, arent'ya?" he drawls, leaning to huff through his nose near your ear and you smell him, sex and musk and earthy amber, you wanna drown in it. "Go on, soak this cock so I can fuck you stupid." It takes a few thrusts later, but you do and you absolutely blackout, the world turning into a white canvas that slowly lifts as you feel Andre fucking into you, pace hurried and faltering as he babbles rapidly, stitching together curses and praise like an ornamental garland.

- Cum is absolutely pouring at that point, rivulets stuck in smears across your ass and thighs, drenching his balls and making them smack wetly against the mouth of your cunt. He's come already at least twice by the load of it and is working on a third orgasm that makes your ass ripple with the force behind his thrusts. "All mine, no one gets to see this, have this, my pretty mate." he's talking to just himself at this point, assuring insecurities while nearly fucking you through the mattress, hell it's a miracle the bedframe hasn't broken. Or the wall.

- You whimper and moan weakly, just taking it at this point because all you feel in your bones is the warmth of orgasmic bliss, full lethargy and no intent to move, feeling so sated and tender than you could simply pass away with a beaming, I just had sex grin that would out do anyone else's, besides Andre's. What plucks the strings of reality a bit is a moment his teeth latch onto your shoulder, marking rows of teeth into a bite marking you as his. He fucks you through it, coming with a shout of your name that is more of a gravelly howl than anything, cum literally flooding your cunt and dripping down everywhere, making a mess of everything.

- Andre's near whimpering, fucking into you weakly while his erection softens inside you, laying on top of your form before wrapping his arms around and having you both shift onto your sides, him spooning your considerably smaller form in his considerably sized state, completely enveloping you in his hold, warmth, and love, soothing your fucked-out and pumped-full state onto the precipice of slumber.

- "M'love you." he mutters into your neck, nuzzling against your pulse as his arms coil around your belly, ensuring you stay in his arms and snug around his dick, "love you too." is what you reply, sounding not like your own voice in the exhausted, airy lilt. It's the last thing you remember before being woken up in the morning to an apologetic and scruffy Andre, back to normal with a plate of breakfast in hand.

- "Andre, honey, we are definitely going to be doing that again."

Robotus Alpha-Beta: D E M O N

• songs: Devil’s Advocate - The Neighborhood or Have A Cigar - Pink Floyd

• fanart: by @olexxx right here

- you’re desperate, and tired of calling after things in the light and day that don’t answer. You now call out for and beg for something from the night, standing in the crossroads with a box of offerings in your hands and a plea so heavy on your tongue it weighs you down like an anchor to a boat, dividing the seas currents in cleaverlike strokes. Crying out into the night, screaming for an answer, yelling out that you’ve done the right things brought the right stuff, made the right calls, you’re frustrated and distressed in the middle of this night, clad in clothing that the wind whips around your form, slinky against your chest and thighs. You’re a vision of desperation in this witching hour, and who would he be to deny your broken-hearted, bargaining pleas?

- “mighty pathetic looking, aren’t you, pretty thing.” He strolls out from the tree line, hands in his pockets of the seersucker suit he wears, hiding his eyes in the shadows while he meanders his way over dirt path and dandelions, plants dying in the markers where his footprints lay. “Pray tell, what brings you to my spacious lay of the woods?” He drones, and you’re too consumed in your own ordeals to fully analyze his appearance and demeanor, ready to bargain and barter down to the bones should it go that far.

- “I just wanna’ deal. That’s all.” You start, laying the tin box down on the ground between the two of you where you stand in the clay dirt and ash of the crossroad, pitch black sans the one flickering, sad looking streetlamp. “What will you take for sparing someone’s life?” Is what comes from your lips next, and he’s almost surprised at the dedication you show in selflessness, musing to himself in the ongoing internal dialogue that you should get one of those flimsy gold stars.

- “Depends on a lot my dear,” the demon drawls, hands gesturing in a manner that reminds you of evangelical television preachers or cable game show hosts, “who am I curing and what ails your beloved patient?” He picks the dirt from his fingernails and you wish you pry out the nails from that tin box you got from a coffin, and force them one by one into his skull for his nonchalance, his disinterest in a deal that meant more than the world to you.

- “my friend, she’s sick. Cancer. I want her cured and for her to live a healthy life and die naturally of old age. What will you accept in exchange?” You’re direct, straight and to the point, shoulders squared and eyes flint and steel, fire flickering in the shards of your irises. Refusing to let him abuse a loophole, you’ve stressed every requirement and plan — ramming the nails in straight. “Straight to the point, I like that.” He drawls, crooked grin smarmy and slimy in the snake oil style, making you envision car dealerships and the price is right but shrouded in brimstone and fire. “The question isn’t what I’ll ask of you, but what you’re willing to offer, dear.”

- he claps his hands together, a MontBlanc pen appearing in his hand and a weathered paper, looking older than your entire bloodline in the way it looks like if the wind blew a fraction harsher, it’d disintegrate. “Alright pet, lay your offers on the table and I’ll see what I’ll accept — but remember,” the demon before you with sky blue eyes pauses, looking like a walking business advert with his suit and tie, shiny cufflinks and a glittering Patek Philippe watch, “no promises.”

- you bite back the myriad of things you’d like to say to this bastard in human flesh-trimmings, but you need your friend more than anything. She’s your world. You’d give your own up for her, and you plan to do exactly that. “My entire self —“ he raises his brows, lips splitting into an amused grin and attempts to interrupt, but you wave a hand and fix him a look, the don’t fuck with me while I’m talking stare, “for part of the week, for the rest of my natural, long and healthy life. You’ll get Tuesday through Thursday, and I will be free to do what I wish the remainder of the week, every week. Sans holidays which I get to myself.”

- he’s still smiling as if it’s within the job application but looks about as pained as if he’s suddenly contracted a bout of irritable bowel syndrome. “And you’re completely mine the entirety of those three days, the full 72 hours?” You nod, face as polished as stone, equally as cold and ungiving. Hes never encountered a wayward soul like yours. Intrigue mars his mind more that he’d care to admit, but it makes the results of bartering so much better. “We have a deal then.”

- he scrawls in loopy old fashioned cursive, slanted and sloped in a manner that reminds you of history class, and fills in the blanks of his document signing your life away to him. He flattens the paper, then signs it himself and hands it to you to sign as well. You spot the larger A and B initials, shortened to AB, but can’t make out the last name, only the large R and the mussed squiggles behind it. Doctorish scrawl, hasty and impatient.

- you sign your signature and life away, not regretting it the instant you get a series of texts from your friend, her energy and liveliness returning in an instant. You pocket your phone then get dragged forward by the elbows, calloused fingertips and softened palms cup your cheeks before drawing you into a fleeting kiss. He pulls away and before you can act, he vanishes in a cloud of ash and dust, the contract within your grip and an emptied tin box at your feet. A kiss to seal the deal.

- you don’t see him until the next week, spending your time with your loved ones and with your best friend, cherishing and relishing in how she’s safe and healthy again and she would always be. The chime of reality rings twelve times, the man appearing in a click of loafers against the tile floors outside your apartment and wraps of his knuckles against the front door, coming to collect you. You’re alone and have been, making sure to be in the comfort of solitude once your first day as a demon’s bitch begins. AB opens the door and strolls in, hands in the pockets of some pinstripe slacks and a chain dangling from near his hand to a slim pocket on his suit vest, thin white stripes against navy fabric making his already tall form elongate.

- the demon struts in with the casual air of devil-may-care, eyes like a cats in how they’re languid but attentive, drawing everything in and sitting until something interesting pulls his direct attention forth. “Quite a home you’ve got here, just you?” AB muses, sauntering with the air of a spoiled house cat. “Yes, just me, now can we get on with whatever you have entailed for my next 72 hours, the suspense Y’know, got me absolutely hooked.” You respond, end of your sentence dripping in sarcasm like a freshly immersed pen nib into an inkwell and equally as dark.

- “impatient too, aren’t you just a bag of tricks,” he muses, lulling and faux cadence in a demon's silver tongue taste, “all in due time. Best to wait and see you squirm.” AB stands before a bookcase, fingertips tapping along spines of books then dusting over a picture frame with your friend, weary Polaroids paling in comparison to this snapshot of her and you several years ago, faces lit in the warmth of lanterns in summer sunset. He holds it longer than he’d deem appropriate, and he doesn’t seem to care or know why.

- “are you always this articulate or does it come with the Armani suit?” You snap, knee bouncing as you sit on the couch, lips chapped from how frequently you’ve gnawed on them in your nervous state, wanting to lose your sanity but unfortunately finding yourself incredibly lucid and stable. Against all odds. “Naturally, pretty thing, some creatures possess decorum and manners — I see you speak from inexperience.” He teases, setting the frame down and wiping his hands on his slacks, adjusting the cufflinks that glitter with initials laid in obsidian and platinum.

- He continues speaking, giving you no opening once more to speak or further deride the demon before you, meandering about your home as if he was not just showing the place, but was trying to sell it as a realtor and making the process as painfully personal as possible. "Do you have a tendency to get squeamish or easily frightened?" "I doubt it, due to how there's a demon I'm casually conversing with, so I'm going to have to say no."

- He chuckles darkly, and you see a glimmer in those glacier eyes of something far colder, and you mark it down for later. "Clever, but such a costly trait. Mind your tongue." You sit and take it in stride, having been braced for an overgrown petulant toddler playing around in daddy's suits. "Since you're being so patient," he mocks, he rolls his sleeves to the forearms after shucking off his jacket and snapping it away in a move that makes you think of hammerspace, "we'll get started. You are to shadow me as I go about dealing. Mind your tongue, presence, and entire demeanor. You are here to help me, gain insight on a modern human mind and soul, not to aid anyone but me due to how I control something far greater than your own life."

- He doesn't hesitate to gut you in the way you've been hung out to dry, hollowed like a side of beef swinging from a hook in a walk-in freezer, dripping onto a frozen floor in tandem with your bravado slipping. AB glances over your expression and smiles, childish and juvenile in a charming, redeemable fratboy sort of way. "Alrighty, now let's get you started."

- and with a snap of his fingers, the two of you began the first day of deals. It flew by, as they all would, you watching from the sidelines or removed from sight to watch as a deal went down. You could clock the bastards who were overly cocky, thinking they could outsmart someone so much older than them it was like the universe looking upon Earth's moon. Planet to sand grains. Pathetic - no match.

- the souls would fade one by one and you would spend your hours prior to the deal observing them from the outskirts in strangers behaviors, deception now a part of your ensemble in equal to your rings or shirt. "Did you observe me before we struck my deal?" you had asked later on in the duration of your servitude, roughly a year into your partial work weeks under the eye and lens of the demon. He laughed, a chiding yet lilting sound that resembled when storm clouds rumbled when the sun still shone, "Oh absolutely I did, my dear, quite entertaining and almost heartwrenching the way you went about your plans. Absolutely precious."

- AB speaks over his cocktail, Pappy Van Winkle bourbon dark and syrupy in the basin of his Waterford crystal glass, sliding about the thick ice cube like molasses, "I will say you have been the most entertaining of my companions in a long time." The way he says it lingers and you assume it's longer than you could perceive, centuries being seconds to the being beside you. It is a fleeting moment of wistfulness before he clocks his newest wayward soul and stalks forward, running a hand through his hair and barely messing his strands up, the greying streaks in his auburn hair falling upon his forehead like a staged motion, queued up to go for a movie scene.

- You tried not to watch more than you needed to when having to help him with his deals, but this time in the low light of a seedy corner alley bar, he glittered like the cufflinks he always wore. Dark obsidian and platinum, simple yet something so potent about it resembled him. If you hadn't sold your life away to the entity, he'd resemble a side character from American Psycho, far too charming to make it into the main role. It was harder to hate him than how he looked, the manner in which you dealt your days away gave you your friend back and a more stable life, albeit the hellish tasks.

- You didn't quite care for how much you cared for him, why you get enamored with him and all that he encompassed. It was disastrous and bordering a Stockholm syndrome, or at least that's what you told yourself when indulging in ice cream and childhood movies. What worsened your situation was an event that occurred in your off hours, out with friends and enjoying yourself in a night of freedom and levity. It went wrong, as you assumed it could, but had not expected the situation to unfold as it had nor the end result to your night.

- "I still don't understand, you crushing on your boss? Understandable, not doing shit about it, perplexes the fuck outta' me." Rory, a friend from high school mentions and brought a series of laughs from your booth at the club. "It's improper-" You're suddenly cut off. "Since when did you ever give a shit about proper?" another friend chimes in, and you sigh before downing the remnants of the drink before you. You get up, go to the bar to get a drink and avoid the terrible topic along with trying to escape the environment altogether. It's not your scene, too loud and overwhelming. It gets even worse after the initial sips of your drink when the world turns hazy and you don't know where you're going, nor whos leading you away.

- "Move them this way, out of the light - there, I told you no one was going to find us here." one of the two figures surrounding your hazy, barely conscious form voices, the other laughing along as they work at your shirt before a dark laugh comes from the opening of the alley, and a glint of polished silver meets the glare of a streetlamp. Its something out of a noir film but you're relieved when you hear his voice, trying to sit up and failing. His name falls from your lips, faint and sad sounding, and his glacier eyes melt away into a darkness never seen before even in the furthest of depths within the oceans.

- It takes no time for him to dispatch the two who had drugged you, the rage pouring off of him in waves you can almost see, even in your bleary state. It's as if someone coated your brain in a fog and dipped it in some liquid nitrogen. "Oh, pretty thing, what have they done to you." is what he says when he crouches near your form, bloodstained but almost holy, a savior without wings. You try and answer but he shushes you, lifting you into his arms securely with the strength beneath his tall, barrel-chested form. The two of you dissipate from the alley and leave behind blood trails no one will find, bodies gone as well to languish on hooks in rings of hellfire AB will personally see to.

- The next thing you recall after being saved up in his arms is waking in a bed far too luxurious to be your own, and enveloped in silky sheets and even silkier pajamas, deep navy blue wrapped around your form so comfortably you just snuggle back into the pillows before you fully wake to reality with a start, remembering what almost happened and sitting up, flying out of bed and wandering out to figure out where the fuck you were.

- "there you are, dear, feeling okay?" is what greats you, AB sitting at a couch reading from a book that once again looks more ancient than your entire bloodline, genuine concern feeding into his expression and making you blink, sleep still laden in your heavy eyelids begging you to go back to sleep. "You saved me." he shrugs off your comment, rising to meet your form in the doorway and taking you by the shoulders, trying to turn you around back into the bed you left. "Go on to bed, I'll bring you something-" he fixes you a look, "its an order, go rest. Your loved ones know you're safe and sound. Now, bed."

- You fall back asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, and the next time you wake there's a change of clothes on a chair near the bed, a plate of food on the nightstand, and a pitcher of water with clean glasses readily available. In no rush, you take your time eating and then getting ready before padding barefoot out into the home you find yourself in, spotting AB finally in a kitchen you'd drool over in an issue of Architectural Digest. "There you are, rested?" you nod, cupping your glass of water in your hands and seating yourself down at a barstool beside the kitchen island, glancing around at the sprawling chef's kitchen, "they've been taken care of." AB trails off, in a casual button-down and slacks, leaning against the countertop with his arms crossed over his chest, taking a second before he looks over at you with steely, ice eyes.

- "No harm will ever come to you." your brows furrow at that, wondering why he would care so much about a person he literally owns. You voice it out loud and he guffaws, looking at you incredulously as if the answer was always there, and in a way, it had been. "Dear, you're mine. Contract bound and now, by design. No one ever lays a hand on you let alone exists a second afterwards." The glass in your hand is set down and you lean back in your chair, staring at him and wondering if the entirety of the past months of partnership you were not the lone one pining. He validates it when he approaches and falters, warming once you breach the gap and take his hand into your smaller one.

- You finally break, grasping for him and hugging him close as his bulkier form bends to hold you, knees bent in order to acclimate to your seated position. He rubs your back as you shudder and shake, warm broad hands soothing you down and facing you until he kneels and looks up at you. "I promise you, you're safe." and you want to say you believe him, but you still don't feel it, just take his hand off your knee and imbed it into your heart so he can feel how it beats, how the fear creeps into your lungs like an infection. there's no need, for he cups your cheek and tilts your chin to meet his gaze. Then it's over.

- the waiting ends, and he kisses you, tender and delicate and something so utterly unlike him that it takes you aback, almost slack-jawed for a millisecond before you realize it's him kissing you and you relish in it, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him closer until he's caged you in, safe from harm. He groans, and you part your legs at the sound, letting him fully press against you in the chair and wrap around you. "My pretty thing." AB groans against your lips, and you whimper at the sound of it so broken on his tongue, so different than the calculated and meticulous tone he took.

- "Prove it" is what flies from your lips as you bite his, feeling him grin darkly against your mouth as he lifts you into his, different from the bridal carry form the other night with how he hefts a handful of your ass into his palms while your legs wrap around his waist while he carries you into the other room. "Gladly." is whispered once he deposits you into a lavish dark bed, his own, and strips himself of his shirt and bares a chest scattered in auburn hair matching in grey streaks like his head, making you wonder about what lies lower.

- He doesn't make you wait long, and he strips himself of his boxers and pants, planting himself above you and grinning at how you observe his body and movements, letting you gasp in surprise once he lets a shudder roll through and some red markings reveal themselves, cuffs and bands of red marks paired with inscriptions of languages so old they outdated writing itself. You trace a few as he undresses you, mouth over them lavishly and kiss them tenderly, trying to show and give all the love you can to make up for what he's missed.

- "Never going to let anyone touch you," he murmurs, breathless against your skin as if he's the one rendered weak before you, "only mine, m'all yours. Gonna' keep you safe and sound." AB's wrecked already and he's hardly touched you let alone himself, the evidence leaking and resting heavily upon your now bare thigh. You feel not just safe and content, but powerful and hungry, greedy for what lies within arms reach. You get granted a freedom in his presence finally, and you take every step in stride.

- "All mine," purrs your voice in his ear, tugging on auburn locks and feeling your body thrum like musical cords when he groans low and deep, reverberating from a barrel chest that covers your form, "going to make me feel good? Treat me right, make a mess of me? Show me just how much you actually care and that I'll always be yours? Go ahead, AB, give me your all."

- "All?" he growls darkly against the column of your throat, nearly snarling if it wasn't for the pleased smirk present with teeth with slight points, "oh dearest, ask for more, don't you know I'd give you everything?" he murmurs low stripping you fully bare and letting rough and calloused palms from another lifetime's work wander your body, mapping out your skin like a cartographer. At that moment the words were euphoric enough, but his hips grinding against yours until he slotted against your weeping cunt was the emphasis to your already wavering body, the final blow to your grip on reality. Oh, what a plunge it was.

- AB rocks against you, forehead knelt down against your collarbone in a piousness akin to prayer and nudges his swollen cock against your cunt, hips grinding once, twice, before he slides into you and fills you. It's a stretch that makes you cry out, nails embedded in his skin near his markings as you whimper and cry out his name. Your chest squirms and your hips remain stilled, his broad hands encompassing your hips as he does so. With his head against your shoulder, he gets to see himself disappear into your slick-soaked pussy, and the sight is too moving for his eyes to handle. Thumbs bruise your hipbones while he stills then asks you questions he repeats several times before you process them, already hazy and fucked out and he hadn't even actually fucked you yet.

- "May I move?" your body reacted before you could even form a response, legs shifting so you can take him in deeper and fuck up back onto him, nearly squealing out as you feel him absolutely stuff your cunt, walls clenching and sending the both of you into a hurried frenzy. "There's your answer." you bite, literally and figuratively as your teeth sink into his ear. His hips stutter and you smirk, so proud of yourself before locking your legs and rolling him beneath you, still seated on his cock but now residing on top, beaming down at him with your hands planted on his marked, hair-covered chest.

- You don't even warn him before you slam your hips down, relishing in how he jolts and buckles, eyes shutting then opening back up, so torn between the feel of you and how you look, an angel of his own making seated above him and using him like a throne, getting yourself off and being nothing short of resplendent. AB thrusts his hips up to meet your grinds and ministrations, one hand splayed across your ribcage while the other snakes down to rub at your clit, beaming with pride when he feels you shudder and falter.

- "You're so pretty." comes broken from the demon beneath you, reduced to merely a man with the way you use him, treat him, love him and fuck him all at once, centuries worth of longing packed away emerging forth into glacier eyes now as warm as spring skies, and the look he gives you sends you over the edge as a crushing blow. He catches you, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you as the orgasmic, earth-shattering waves take you under. He anchors you, falteringly weak thrusts getting him to where you are in seconds, cumming and stuffing you full with a cracking groan against your heated flesh.

- He holds you, sitting upright with his arms wound around your torso and holding tight, hands splayed across your back and side as your head nestles into the crook of his, nose at his pulse and smelling hints of rosemary and bergamot and ash, and you burrow closer, wanting to sink into him like bed, he's more comforting than down comforters and pillows anyhow. It takes a while before the witness behind your eyes fades, his humming being what plucks you forth from an orgasmic abyss and you smile against his skin, soaking up the silence and him breaking it.

- "About that contract-" you joke, and AB laughs breathlessly before turning to you with a devious smirk, hands wandering and eliciting a squeaking moan from your lips, "I think I'd be open to renogiation." he murmurs, breath fanning across your mouth before your lips meet his and he hums, licking into your mouth and staking claim to it just as he had you.

Magic Myc: Z O M B I E

• song: Under My Skin - Jukebox The Ghost

- You'd been there when Myc's dead body got carted in. There were more people making jokes, cruelly grateful for his absence compared to the small group that actually missed him, and mourned him. And you were one of the very few who loved him enough to grieve his loss in such a manner it would even overpower the longing of the moon should it ever lose the sun and stars.

- He wasn't everyone's taste, hell, he was barely your taste. But you still loved him anyway and trying to work, eat, and live without him got harder and harder since he got eradicated from your life as swiftly as one strikes down a cleaver against a cutting board, final, irreversible. Permanent.

- You had thankfully been granted leave, getting enough pitying looks to send you to the comforts of home only to realize that home made it worse. All his things were there, little knickknacks and gag gifts Myc had gathered over the years, polaroids taped to the walls with glimpses of misadventures. One that gutted you the most was a picture of you, Andre, and Myc, the two of you smiling wide while Myc lifted the two of you up for the picture, all flipping off the camera and laughing like hyenas.

- Andre had been a rock of support, the two of you leaning on each other to cope and work through the loss, not knowing how to handle the loss, Andre losing a best friend and you losing a lover. It crushed you, the chasm of grief and depression consuming you whole, entangling your ankles and dragging you down in the depths like being snared in a siren's trap.

- the point where you broke down wholly and entirely, letting out ugly cries with the snot and tear tracks, getting puffy with reddened eyes in the freedom of your home. A formerly shared home is now all yours. The brownstone mocked you, once an inviting and fun space now too bright and whimsical to be fitting for one mourning a lover. A friend. A soulmate.

- in the midst of your breakdown and rattling full-body tremors, you don't hear the back door locks slowly turn one by one, the keys only belonging to one person, long dead. You don't hear something entering your home and locking back up, in the perfectly redundant routine that belonged to an everyday pattern. You don't hear Myc return into your life because you're too busy crying about him leaving it.

- "I leave for five seconds and you've already gone batshit - damn and I thought I had problems" his voice startles you, making you nearly fall off of the couch when you whip your head around to stare at him, eyes wide and mouth agape in disbelief. "You're not real." is the first thing you utter, terrified to move in case the illusion your grief-wracked mind conjured would dissipate and vanish, leaving you alone in your loss and the empty house, pathetic and sad enough to best a wet kitten.

- "You'd think that, but here I am, alive and unwell." Myc responds, sarcasm prominent but still an underlying fond tone only belonging to him comes out. It's rougher, dirtier almost in a backroad gravel kind of way like his vocal cords got tossed through a concrete mixer. "Gonna' say hello or what?" he teases, gesturing with a tendril or two and extending them, wanting a hug from his favorite person. You practically leap over the back of the couch in an effort to reach him, launching yourself into his body and nestling your head on the underside of the mushroom cap, feeling fanning gills brush the top of your head in addition to the bulbous partial veil that glows and humms against your head.

- He still smells like earth and musk, pollen and petals. and weed, and you've never been more relieved to smell the absolutely pungent aroma of weed in your life, laughing while you cry into where his neck would be. "You think I would just ditch you? No way, stuck with me for the rest of your little life, shitheel." Myc mutters, bumping your nose tenderly with a blunt nudge of a tendril, making your nose scrunch and a smile appear on your puffy, crying face.

- "wait, how are you even here?" you ask, leaning your head back enough to look at him in the dim light of your home, shadows cast over his form and hiding the majority of it sans little segments and divots of bioluminescence and ornate patterns. "You died Myc, how in the fuck are you even alive?"

- he doesn't immediately answer, and you step back to pace with a hand running down your face, immediately ranting and getting wrapped up in the concept of Cognito Inc. doing another stupid and silly science project without considering ramifications and wondering just how this will blow up once more when it concerns the love of your life, Myc.

- when he's remained silent, not saying a word in the midst of your rant about Reagan and how she's got to stop playing god, you realize he hasn't said a word and turn to find him standing very still and looking down to his tentacles as if in deep thought. Worrying, consuming, deep thought.

- "I-," he starts, moving to turn in your direction, almost looking past you, or through you, making your anger fade as concern takes over, "I don't know."

- You haven't been this worried in a long, long time. "Honey, what do you mean you don't know?" Your concern multiplies, swarming nervous moths within the cage of a chest you have, fluttering in your ribcage and making your bones itch. "Myc, do you remember getting here?".

- the uncharacteristic silence speaks enough volumes to have filled a home library, making you send a few hurried texts to the gang group chat and ignoring the silly contact names in lieu of finding a solution to this as fast as possible and trying to keep Myc stable. You turn and flick a lamp on, unable to find reason in the darkness, and barely stop the scream that almost fled your throat.

- "I just wanted to see you, I don't know how I got here-" he pauses, unaware of the terror in your eyes and the tears welling along the seams of your lower lids, threatening to overflow with the sight of him, "I just wanted you."

- You wish you were crying for other reasons beyond the sight of him, maybe even some happy tears with how he came to you because he loves you, dragged his undead self all the way to your backdoor to you.

- You cry instead at the state of him, the chunks of flesh and tissue missing, the greenish ghastly hue to his surface, tears and gouges in places where his body's mass would fill. He is dead. undead technically, and in your shared home's living room sounding close to tears himself with how confused he sounds and you're just about to break down at how butchered he looks. He is yours, and he was supposed to be fine always. Why did this happen, and why to your Myc.

- He says your name, and it is so broken it doesn't suit him. Myc's a jovial, mocking asshole that makes you feel loved, even with pet names accompanied by curse words and expletives. You respond to a few more texts and enlist the help of Reagan and ask Andre and him to come immediately. You barely have the energy to continue standing, so you absolutely don't have the strength to deal with this alone.

- You gather him close, sitting the two of you down on the couch and just try and breathe, sit there with each other and pretend things will all be okay and wait in the meantime for Reagan and Andre to appear in order to get some ideas going on what to do or how to go about this entire situation, the others on standby and there for support should you need it. You've never been more thankful for the friends you have.

- "M'not going to leave you." Myc says, determination steady within his now weathered voice, as if it was skinned and tanned like an animal hide in the sun, "I don't wanna' go." Your hands grip him tighter as your fingertips trace over patterns and textures on his surface, humming a note against the light within his partial veil beneath the cap.

- "Nothing could take me from you, and I won't let anything take you from me either." is what you choose to comfort him with, knowing that humor was a strong suit and that comedy wasn't something to include just yet, reality to raw to disinfect with the sting of punchlines.

- Andre and Reagan soon arrive, disbelief covering their features the instant they enter the door and a litany of questions follow with Andre's tears as he and Myc hug, bubbly watery giggles erupting forth from both him and you at the relief. Reagan pokes and prods, then takes notes from what you could tell, and remains as confused as you are.

- after a while and many frustrating moments, the two leave back to their respective lives. Andre promises to come the next day and Reagan plans to run tests bright and early tomorrow. Nevertheless, the night is yours with him and the two of you alone. You try and make the best of it by familiarizing yourself with the way it felt to be enveloped with Myc, to feel those tendrils around your frame holding you close.

- and as with all things with Myc, it turned sexual suddenly and rapidly, making you appreciate his ease in removing you from a current situation with his attention, touch, and care. A gift tethered in mycelial networks and fungi.

- the two of you don't even make it to the bedroom, Myc being so eager to have you in any which way, he fucks you on the floor against the plush living room carpet, letting you know how thankful he is for your precious ass in his life (both literally and figuratively) as he fucks you to delirium.

- next thing you know, you have his voice in your ear while two tendrils splay your bare thighs open, tentacles notched in the crook of your knee and thigh as he pumps the tips of three appendages in and out of you, commenting and praising you for how slick you are and how welcoming your cunt is to him, like a homecoming once your greedy pussy sucks him in like even your spongy inner walls missed him.

- "god you're so fucking wet, all for me right? getting all gushy and messy for me only." his words hit just the right buttons, perched and murmured right beside your ear as he thrums, twisting the tips of his appendages within you and barely showing signs of him being affected. The two little tendrils that have collected droplets of slick tease and prod at your ass, occasionally breaching the tight ring of muscle and allowing Myc the pleasure of hearing that broken, higher pitched cry you moaned out with his name on your tongue, grinding into his ministrations and begging for more.

- "mhmm, all for you Mikey," you moan softly, brokenly, in a way so soft it competes against battered butterfly wings, "all yours, always yours, even m'pussy." He laughs, fucking you harder at that like a reward, groaning happily and letting the waves of pleasure spread rather than him holding back and halting his own enjoyment. Now he can fuck you.

- “damn fucking straight.” He curses, fucking you with earnest while he sits behind you, feeling flush and warm while he feels you tense and clench around him. Then follow suit once he breaches your ass, fucking into you shallowly and slowly there, easing himself in and loving the way your jaw falls slack and your hips seem to have a mind of their own. You prop your feet at an angle and use it to better fuck yourself on the makeshift cock and tendrils of Myc’s appendages, loving how you felt him in both holes and stuffed full, practically gushing around him and soaking the couch cushion beneath the two of you.

- good thing they’re washable.

-“all mine, always gonna’ be mine.” He mutters, movements stuttering as he nears orgasm but tries to hold out, “my baby gonna’ let me stuff them full? Until it leaks, hm?” You nod, voicing a yes against the skin of his closest to you and cry out once his tendrils brush at your cervix as you grind down and thrust back and forth against him.

- “please Myc, wanna’ cum, want your cum, want you to make me feel good.” You drawl in a plead, hands smoothing over him beneath you and sliding up and down his cock, reaching a hand to play with your clit until he smacks it away and replaces it with an appendage and shakily strokes and he gets closer to cumming. He shakes beneath you, Myc shuddering and stuttering once he voices his nearing euphoria.

- he cums, flooding your cunt and having it spill forth, pollock-like flecks of cum splattering your inner thighs and allowing you to slide better and take him in, cumming shortly after with a scream of his name and an orgasm that lasted nearly a solid minute, senses gone and world as white as fresh snowfall.

- there’s silence for a moment, your back resting against his front, tendrils not still inside you caressing and tending to your sweaty, tired body. “Hey, hon?” He draws you out of your reverie to turn to look at him, “pretty good for a dead man.”

- “fuck off, dear god.”

- Myc cackles and leans back into the couch cushions and pillows, and the joy that thrums in your heart soothes the ache of his death, loving him in any state, even when he’s being a little shit.

—Happy Halloween—

Tags: @cognitosclowns @radioactivebowtie @mollicutes @carnalcringe @bluebaronness @flyingspicerack