#the subtitles making us familiar with it

[chirpsythismorning]

Yeah there’s gonna be plenty of little details in s5 confirming byler, but there’s one thing in particular that I feel like would be too hilarious to pass up on…

[sskk-manifesto]

And so the big sskk shortage begins (no sskk for the next 15 episodes) (and the sskk episode coming after kind of sucks)

[glassrunner]

i LOVE that on ng+ you can actually understand what the puppet bosses are saying thanks to the ergo decoder that venigni gives you :') such a cool continuity touch, it's also just really interesting to see the puppets' commentary on their circumstances and tie that into the lore as you learn more

[primatechnosynthpop]

Was almost moved to tears by a nico nico douga song medly even though I was never on that website (was too young and didn't know about it at the time) and only know maybe half the songs featured at most

[lunarflare64]

Did it really take us five fucking years to figure out that the reason why we inherently hate podcasts is because we have fucking audio processing disorder and can't understand half the shit they're saying, and that listening to it while reading text or just reading the text on its own doesn't work because we have intense adhd and without stimulating visuals we have no fuckin reason to even bother trying to give this story we already don't care about any attention?

[powdermelonkeg]

Cheat Code #2 for accommodating disabled characters in sci-fi/fantasy:

How you aid a disability depends on if it's a new development or had always existed.

i.e.: If someone's lost their legs to a griffin biting them off last week, giving them steampunk prosthetic legs is a good aid. There's something they can't do, that they very recently could, that they need to learn to work around. The prosthetic legs still need an adjustment period to learn how to use them, but your character knows how legs should work and can figure it out more easily.

If someone lost their legs because, as a child, they wandered away from the space field trip and got partially eaten by a carnivorous plant, then it depends. Prosthetic legs can technically work, but the longer the character was without legs, the harder it'll be to re-learn how to use them. You might want to go with bionic legs for short distances, but a hover chair for daily use.

If someone was born without legs, then prosthetic legs are more hindrance than they're worth. Your character has never had legs, and has no idea how they're supposed to work.

Imagine if you're in a world of centaurs; you're given prosthetic hind legs, and now expected to be able to climb up cliffs with the grace of a mountain goat. It's a whole new skill you'd have to learn, and you would get annoyed with it very fast; how are they supposed to sync with the legs you already have? How are you supposed to balance? You can't feel anything, you don't know how much space it occupies.

Someone who's always been disabled doesn't need the thing they were born without, they need aid that lets them do what everyone else can in a way they're familiar with. If your character has always been deaf, glasses with subtitles appearing on them are infinitely more useful than aids that let them hear, because hearing when you've always had silence is going to have a steep learning curve and be ridiculously overwhelming.

Your rule of thumb?

Try to give them something they're used to.

Note: This is different with very small children, because they're already learning how to use every part of them. If a toddler in your sci-fi was born without legs, they can be taught to use bionic legs at a very young age, but it has to start early or it'll run into the problems above.

Cheat code 1: How to avoid eliminating disability in your setting

Cheat Code 3: How to make your setting itself disability-friendly

Cheat Code 4: How to personalize your character's disability aid

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, uhh, genuine question.

Do you recommend getting into Bleach, and if so how? Anime, Manga, a little bit of both, secret other thing? Your posts about it (and especially about AEIWAM) have definitely piqued my Interest, but I have pretty much 0 knowledge about the topic and heard very contradictory takes & reviews before, so I wanted to ask for your advice on the topic.

Cheers and have a nice day!

So a couple people have asked me this and I'm going to be as honest and fair about it as possible:

Bleach itself is mid.

...which is why the fan works KICK SO MUCH ASS.

My theory is that the ideal habitat for transformative fan work creators is mediocre series. It has to be good enough to be worth engaging with in the first place, but it's the plot holes and dropped developments and intriguing characters that don't get enough time and shoddy-to-unexplained worldbuilding that make nice little holes for fic authors and fan artists to crawl into and built a home, like sponges growing on a dilapidated subway car sunk into the Hudson river.

So yes. Bleach is mid. More under the cut:

It's also really two series: the manga and the anime. There's more anime than manga because bleach suffers from the late oughts horror known as "the filler arc" where the studio would make shit up while waiting for the author to catch up. Not ideal, but better than the current state of "cancelling a fully written five-season show after two because it wasn't making enough money for the oligarchy" but I digress.

To grade both the manga and anime on the Weeb-Ass-Shit scale:

Weeb: how familiar do you have to be with the tropes of anime/Japanese culture in general to be able to enjoy the series? This is one of the things Bleach does REALLY, REALLY WELL, in that you can go in knowing fuck-all about anime and have a good time, but the more you know, the more fun it is. My favorite thing Kubo does is that if you look up the meaning of the characters used in everyone's names, there is a TON of jokes, foreshadowing, themes etc. baked into every name. A+ work.

Ass: how much gratuitous fan service is there and how annoying is it? So. It's not the worst. But it's really, really obvious that Bleach is written and illustrated by a straight man who is hella into tiddies. As a bisexual, I can appreciate The Tiddy (and tbh, the men in Bleach have pretty great tits too), but there are a lot of humor bits about Kon being a perv/author stand-in, orihime has medically alarming knockers for a teenager and gets groped kind of a lot. There's also a predatory lesbian stereotype character in the early episodes, and some pretty awful transphobic caricature characters. The amount of horny isn't that much for a shonen, but it's pretty gross IMHO.

Shit: how well- made is this series?

Mixed. Both the manga and the anime (esp the recent Thousand Year Blood War arc) have some absolutely gorgeous art, banger character designs, and deeply entertainingly choreographed fights. It is really nice to look at.

Unfortunately, both also suffer really badly from pacing issues that are pretty much entirely the fault of the insane demands the industry puts on the artists. If you've ever read/seen a shonen manga/anime from the late aughts through early teens, you're familiar with this bullshit- fight scenes drawn out to absurd lengths, filler arcs while the animation studio waits for the author to catch up, repeated plot arcs, minimal focus on characterization, The Friendship Speech (TM) etc.

Pacing and repetitiveness are Bleach's main quality issues, but the art is pretty baller and the Japanese voice cast is pretty fucking great IMHO. (I have APD and have to consume shows by subtitles, so the sun is usually more legible for me than the dub).

If you are coming into Bleach from AEIWAM... You're likely to be a bit disappointed. I put a shitload of work into the worldbuilding because Bleach does not, I write almost exclusively slice-of-life character moments rather than big battles, and I have made some pretty fucking radical changes to some of the characters. An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy is an entirely different genre than Bleach, and that's ok, because fic usually is radically different than it's source material. But also be prepared.

TL;DR: Bleach is mid and that's ok! My fic is different than it and that is also ok! I still recommend it with the reservations of : it's prototypical of its time period and contains many of the gross tropes from that era. It is also very much a horror shonen, just to be clear. Fucked up shit happens on screen, mostly cannibalism! Which is great IMHO, but you should probably take a stroll through DoesTheDogDie.com for more specific trigger warnings before beginning.

[ddarker-dreams]

Hey Lock!!!! How are you doing? Do you have any Chrollo crumbs for us? 👀👀👀👀

i'm doing well today anon, thank you for asking!!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖 and yes ... i have this chrollo thought that has been floating around in my head rent-free...

chrollo is not a yandere you want to genuinely upset.

he doesn't do 'forgive and forget.' he may appear outwardly courteous, but he's not above being petty and cruel. it's for your benefit that he keeps these tendencies to himself. there are days you can forget who exactly he is, days where he feels more like a pesky ex than an actual threat. deep down in your subconscious, you know you'd never make it far should an escape find initial success. the usual avenues won't be available to you. there's no flagging down a bystander, who in turn will alert the authorities and shuffle you off into protective custody.

there's just you and the dwindling distance between an immensely displeased force.

you're unsure what compels you to do it. perhaps it's paranoia, exhaustion, or sheer desperation from how little you can actively do to prevent what awaits; but you call him. on a payphone, amidst a bustling metropolis. you're seconds away from transit that'd speedily haul you away, should he track the call. your mouth goes dry as each ring sounds. you begin having second thoughts, wondering what exactly it is you're hoping to accomplish—

—when a familiar voice on the other line greets you. the quality distorts it ever so slightly, but your recognition is immediate, as is the way your heart temporarily stops.

he'll ask if you're alright. if you've been resting well, getting enough to eat, taking your medication.

your responses are automatic, like you're catching up with an old friend. he doesn't come across as angry, or upset really; more concerned than anything else. he does care about you. nothing you do will ever change that. he knows your allergies, what you prefer the AC to be on in the summer and heat in the winter, to turn on the subtitles when watching a movie without even asking.

he knows you.

you didn't mean to chat this long. it's a bad idea, potentially the start of the end, yet you can't help asking:

"... are you mad at me?"

he goes quiet.

not much time passes. you think you hear him sigh, but the connection's bad and your brain sleep deprived.

"i don't know, dear," he eventually admits. the pet name lacks its usual warmth. "i'm always pursuing you in some regard, aren't i? and yet... you always turn your back. always evade me, right at the last second. just when i think i finally have you, i'm reminded removing your heart might be my best chance at having it."

another pause.

"don't mind my musings. we both know out of all the lives i'll take, yours is perfectly safe."

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Literaries references today, huh? I hope you like it.

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NSFW, Dirty talk, feet fetish

Summary: The witch makes you hers, finally.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

POETRY

The days after the camp were a mixture of tension and inevitability. You and Wanda seemed to orbit each other, like planets drawn by the gravity of something far greater than either of you was willing to admit.

In the classroom, the glances between you two grew more intense. Sometimes, you could feel her gaze fixed on you, so burning that it was impossible not to shiver. Once, while reading aloud, your voice faltered because Wanda tilted her head subtly, her green eyes evaluating every detail of you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the air was thick with something no one could explain, but which you felt deeply.

You felt her gaze land on you from time to time. It wasn’t just any look—it was something burning, filled with intensity, as if she were waiting for you to do something, anything, to draw her attention even more.

The classroom was immersed in an almost reverent silence, except for Wanda Maximoff’s soft voice as she read a passage from Crime and Punishment. She moved between the desks with a copy of the book in hand, the afternoon light streaming through the windows and illuminating her red hair like a profane halo.

“‘Man has become so accustomed to reasoning about everything and always on the basis of arguments that he has forgotten it is also possible to argue against his own arguments.’” She closed the book with a gentle motion, but the snap of the cover echoed through the room like a warning.

Her eyes rose to the students but landed on you with surgical precision. A familiar heat climbed your neck, and you looked away, pretending to jot something in your notebook.

"Y/n," she called, and your heart nearly stopped. "What’s your interpretation of this passage?"

You lifted your eyes slowly, feeling the weight of her stare. Wanda tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a smile that only you could decipher: provocation, curiosity, and something much deeper.

"Well..." you began, trying to keep your voice steady. "Maybe it’s about how people can rationalize even what they know is wrong. Justifying the unjustifiable. A kind of... psychological game, maybe."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly amused. "Interesting. But do you think it’s just a game? That there are no consequences for those who play it?"

The hidden meaning behind her words hit you like a blow. Your defiant gaze met hers, and a tense silence filled the room.

"That depends," you replied, holding her gaze. "Some games are worth the risk. As long as the players are willing to go all the way."

The students exchanged confused glances, feeling the weight in the air but unable to grasp the true reason.

Yelena, sitting two seats over, raised an exaggerated eyebrow, her eyes darting between you and Wanda as if trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. She leaned toward Bucky, who was on the other side, and whispered: “What the hell is she doing?”

Bucky bit the end of his pen, clearly trying not to laugh. “No idea, but... this is weird as hell.”

"Weird?" Yelena rolled her eyes. "This is a show. Don’t you feel it? It’s like watching a Russian soap opera, but without subtitles."

Bucky gave her a light slap on the arm, stifling a laugh. “Shut up; Bishop’s taking notes. She might sell the script later.”

Kate, sitting further back, looked at them with a mock-indignant expression. “I’m here trying to understand Dostoevsky, and you two are commentating like it’s halftime at a game?”

Yelena shrugged, gesturing toward the teacher. “Sorry, but Maximoff’s looking at Y/n like she’s about to eat her. How do you expect us to focus?”

You heard the whispers and felt your face heat even more, but you didn’t dare turn to face them. Instead, you focused on Wanda, who seemed perfectly unaware of the murmurs—or, more likely, ignored them because she was too busy teasing you.

Yelena crossed her arms, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. “This is gonna go south, Buck.”

Bucky snorted. “It’s already gone south. What’s left is how far.”

Wanda couldn’t deny it—you were a daring little brat. Too clever for your own good, confident in a way that made her skin prickle with irritation—and something darker, more visceral. It was like watching someone play a dangerous game without understanding the stakes. And yet, it drew her in, making her fingers itch with need.

"Interesting perspective, Y/n," Wanda said, her voice low, almost lazy, as she approached your desk. Each step seemed calculated, and the sound of her heels on the floor reverberated through the room like the tick of a countdown clock. She stopped beside you, close enough for you to feel her warmth, and tilted her head with an enigmatic smile. "But sometimes, it’s worth remembering that some players might not be as prepared as they think. Wouldn’t you agree?"

You lifted your eyes to her, meeting the gaze that seemed determined to unravel you completely. “Sometimes you just have to play to find out how far you can go,” you murmured, your voice firm, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your vulnerability.

Wanda felt a wave of desire and frustration mingle. How dare you? Here, in front of everyone, with no fear. She wanted to smile, but the control she needed to exert was like a tight chain around her will. Her instincts screamed to put you in your place, to shatter that confidence that challenged her at every turn.

She stepped back with the same calculated calm, but inside, she felt the tension pulsing through every cell. Her fingers tingled with the desire to trace your jawline, to replace that defiant smile with something softer, more submissive.

The room seemed to hold its breath, every student frozen in the moment, unsure of what exactly was happening. But Wanda knew. And you knew. And, in that instant, she promised herself that the lesson she’d mentioned would be taught—intensely, memorably, and entirely on her terms.

Then, the shrill sound of the bell echoed through the room, and the students began to rise, packing their things as the buzz of conversation grew. You prepared to leave too, but before you could take more than two steps, Wanda passed by you, her intoxicating perfume filling the air.

She leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing your ear, and murmured low but firm: “My office. Now.”

The commanding tone made your legs tremble, and you barely managed to gather your notebooks, each movement hesitant and clumsy. When you arrived at her office, the atmosphere felt stiflingly charged. The door barely closed behind you before Wanda turned and crossed the space with quick steps.

Without warning, her hands grabbed your arms, pulling you close, your back colliding with the wooden desk. The sound of objects shifting on impact seemed insignificant compared to the weight of the moment.

"How dare you?" Wanda whispered, her voice low yet brimming with authority and something more—something that made every cell in your body vibrate.

Her hands were firm and possessive against your body, exploring without hesitation, marking you with her heavy touch. Her eyes glowed with a hypnotic red, and you felt as though you were being pulled into an abyss.

You should have apologized, should have yielded, but instead, your hand reached up, cupping her face as you pulled her into an urgent and dominating kiss. Your lips collided as if the world were ending, as if time was too fleeting for hesitation.

Wanda responded with a low growl, her fingers gripping your waist tightly enough to leave marks. Her taste was intoxicating—a blend of control and desire that made your head spin. You felt like you were drowning in the red sea that was Wanda Maximoff, and there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to lose yourself completely in that ocean.

The room seemed to vibrate with the energy radiating from Wanda. Objects around you began to tremble, then levitate. Books, chairs, and even the desk started floating in the air, swirling in a chaotic vortex of pure power.

Wanda pushed you further against the desk as she herself seemed consumed by the intensity of her emotions. Her hand moved to encircle your neck, her fingers firm but calculated, as if she measured her strength precisely.

"You're such a naughty girl..." her voice was low, husky, almost a purr. "It drives me crazy to—"

Her sentence broke off, her breath ragged as her eyes burned a vivid red. The scarlet hue spread throughout the room, enveloping everything. You felt a wave of heat and power coursing through the space, making your skin tingle.

Her hands on your neck were firm, possessive, but far from cruel. The control Wanda maintained, even with her powers teetering on the edge of chaos, was overwhelmingly impressive. The pressure was just enough to make you feel small, vulnerable—exactly as she wanted.

"I should punish you for being so defiant," she continued, her voice dripping with desire and authority, her fingers tightening slightly as she tilted her head to watch you with hungry eyes. "You provoke me, and now... you should face the consequences, don't you think, little one?"

The chaos in the room intensified. Books flew open, pages ripping through the magical crimson wind, chairs spinning in the air, and the sound of furniture crashing against walls was muffled by the pounding of your heartbeat. It was mesmerizing—the woman before you truly powerful.

And you knew you should fear her.

But you weren't afraid. The heat rising through your body was more intense than anything else, an intoxicating blend of submission and excitement. You met Wanda's eyes, making it clear you didn't want to stop.

Her smile was predatory, satisfied, as she leaned in to claim your mouth again. The kiss was overwhelming, a reflection of the storm around you, and you lost yourself in it, lost in the red sea that was Wanda Maximoff.

You gasped when Wanda finally loosened her grip on your neck, but the red glow in her eyes still burned. Your mind was a mess, every part of your body pulsing in response to her touch. But you didn't want to surrender completely—not yet.

"Is that all you've got?" The words slipped out before you could think, your tone full of provocation. Your chest heaved, adrenaline mixed with desire coursing through every fiber of your being.

Her smile vanished for a moment, replaced by something far more dangerous. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled you even closer, your bodies practically pressed together. "You really want to play with fire, my little girl?"

"Maybe," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your face. "Or maybe I just think the Scarlet Witch isn't all she's cracked up to be."

Her reaction was instant. The red in the room exploded in intensity, and for a moment, it seemed like the very air vibrated. Her hands released your body, but only because she took a step back, her gaze fixed on you as if deciding what to do.

A whirlwind formed around your bodies, lifting you slightly off the ground.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," she whispered, but there was something deeper in her voice, a tone that didn’t belong solely to Wanda.

That’s when you saw it. The red in her eyes intensified, her pupils consumed by the scarlet glow. Her posture shifted, her shoulders straighter, her head tilted in a way that exuded pure power.

"Oh, you wanted to play, didn't you?" Her voice was different, deeper, laden with an energy that made your knees tremble. "Now you have my full attention."

Your breath hitched as the Scarlet Witch stepped forward, her power so palpable it weighed down the air.

She raised a hand, and you were pulled closer without her needing to touch you. Her gaze was locked onto yours, both challenging and ravenous. "Now tell me, little rebel," she teased, her smile almost cruel. "Is this what you wanted? The real me?"

You swallowed hard but still found the strength to respond. "Maybe I just wanted to see how far you'd go."

Her laugh echoed through the room, low and dangerous, as the chaos around you intensified. "You have no idea, my dear. But I'll show you. Slowly. Until you can't take it anymore."

She extended a hand, the crimson glow dancing at her fingertips as the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only you and her in the eye of a scarlet storm.

"I bet you were crazy for this too," Wanda murmured against your neck as she marked it with her teeth. "God— I can smell you from here."

Wanda's kiss was devastating, a collision of desire and possessiveness that left you utterly breathless. Your lips moved against hers with overwhelming intensity, as if the entire world had vanished, leaving only her. When you finally pulled apart, a thread of saliva, glistening and tinged crimson, connected you—a vivid reminder of the fervor you had shared.

You felt like you were in heaven, in a place no one had ever taken you before. Your heart pounded in your chest, your entire body trembling from a mix of excitement and shock. Wanda's hands roamed boldly over your body, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.

But then reality hit you like a cold wave. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right with Vision, with her children, and not even with yourself.

“Wanda, wait," you murmured, your voice trembling as you grasped her wrist, halting her touch that was making your head spin.

It took her a moment to process your words, her red eyes still blazing with raw energy. Her primal instincts were on full display, and for a moment, it seemed as though she couldn’t hear anything beyond the call of her own hunger.

"What now?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, still dripping with desire.

"This... isn’t right," you stammered, your eyes filled with a mix of guilt and confusion. "Vision, the boys... you..."

Wanda blinked, as if your words had finally pierced through her haze. The red glow in her eyes gradually dimmed, the intensity giving way to something more human—something more painful.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, pulling away from you, her hands still trembling. She ran a hand through her hair, messing it up as she tried to compose herself. "Shit, shit, shit."

The frustration in her voice was palpable, but there was also something else—a guilt buried deep, like a twisted knife in her chest.

"You promised you’d sort things out soon!" you burst out, your voice louder than you intended, but the frustration that had been building for days needed release. "I’m here, Wanda. I’m waiting for you. And in the meantime, I’m stuck in this limbo, not knowing what’s real or what you want from me!"

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the silence between you was heavy as lead. Then Wanda took a step back, her fists clenched, but her gaze still fixed on you.

"You think this is easy for me?" Her voice was low, almost a growl. "You think I don’t think about this every second? That I don’t want to throw everything away and just... take you away? Make you mine?"

You swallowed hard but didn’t back down. "Then why don’t you? Why keep playing with me like I’m just... another piece on your chessboard?"

Wanda laughed, but it was hollow, devoid of humor. "Because it’s not just about you and me, Y/n! Do you understand what’s at stake here? My life. My children. My reputation. Everything I’ve built could fall apart because of this."

"And what about me?!" you shot back, tears stinging your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. "Am I the only one who has to carry this alone? To deal with the guilt, the doubt, the desire? Because it feels like while you can have me and still keep everything intact, I only have you."

Wanda hesitated, and for the first time, you saw something like vulnerability in her eyes. But it was fleeting, replaced quickly by the fire you knew so well.

"You think I don’t feel the same?" she asked, stepping closer to you again, her voice softer but loaded with emotion. "You think I’m not drowning in this as much as you are?"

"Then why does it feel like I’m the only one losing control?" you murmured, your voice now shaky.

Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as though trying to pull herself together but failing miserably. "Because I’m good at hiding it, Y/n. I had to learn. But you..." She stopped, her eyes scanning your face, your body. "You’re so young. So raw. Perfect to mold—" Her hands trembled with a deep excitement. "And that’s what destroys me. Because when I’m with you, I forget everything that’s supposed to matter. Everything that’s supposed to hold me back."

Her words tightened a knot in your chest, because they echoed a truth you couldn’t admit to yourself. "And now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda stepped even closer, her hands cupping your face with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the intensity you’d just shared. "Now, we drown together," she said, her eyes blazing again, but this time with something deeper, more sincere. "Because I’m not letting you go. And I know you won’t either."

You both remained silent for a long moment after your intense exchange of words. The weight of tension still hung heavily in the air, but now there was something different—an undeniable determination in her green eyes. She began pacing the room, clearly trying to organize her thoughts.

"I can’t keep doing this," she finally said, abruptly stopping and turning to face you.

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Wanting you close but having to hold back. Trying to keep up appearances while feeling like I’m going to explode every time I see you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you kept your tone cautious. "So, what are you thinking?"

A small smile curled her lips—not the warm smile you sometimes saw, but something more calculated, almost predatory. "I’ve had an idea, my sweet. And maybe it’ll be enough until I can sort things out."

Wanda stepped closer, leaning in as if to share a forbidden secret. "The boys need a private tutor. Someone to help them with the subjects they’re struggling with."

You blink, processing her words. "And you want me to... be that person?"

Her smile widened, as though she was pleased with how quickly you’d caught on. "Of course. This way, I can keep an eye on you without having to come up with excuses. Without needing to hide how much I want to be near you."

The idea made your head spin. "Wanda, that’s... complicated. Wouldn’t it seem strange? What about Vision?"

The smile faded for a moment, and her eyes glinted with something darker. "Vision is gone most of the time, busy with work. And as for complicated..." She moved even closer, her breath warm against your skin. "We’re already complicated, Y/n. This just makes things easier."

You felt your resistance melt under her intense gaze. "And the boys?"

"They’ll love you," she said, as though there was no doubt about it. "Besides, you’re smart, patient, and..." Her fingers slid down your arm, her eyes glowing with a mix of desire and adoration. "I trust no one else near them. Or near me."

It was a dangerous proposition—an invitation to dive even deeper into something that already felt impossible to escape. But the way she looked at you, as if the entire universe revolved around you, made it impossible to say no.

"Alright," you finally murmured, feeling as though you were crossing an invisible but definitive line. "I’ll do it."

The smile Wanda gave you was both triumphant and filled with something you couldn’t entirely identify. She reached up to caress your face, her fingers warm against your skin. "You made the right choice, darling. Trust me. I’ll take care of everything for us."

[...]

The Saturday morning dawned sunny, but inside Wanda's house, the atmosphere was a meticulously orchestrated chaos.

"Billy, Tommy, have you cleaned your rooms? I don't want anything out of place!" Wanda called from the kitchen while arranging a plate of freshly baked cookies on the table.

Billy sighed loudly from upstairs. "I already did, Mom! Why does she even need to see my room, anyway?"

Tommy appeared in the living room with a bored expression. "It's just a tutor, Mom. Chill."

Wanda stopped, looking at him with an intensity that made him take a step back. "She's more than that. I want you to make a good impression—no, a great one. Understood?"

The boys exchanged knowing glances but said nothing more. They knew arguing with their mother in this state was pointless.

But if she wasn’t just a tutor, then what was she?

Wanda adjusted the couch pillows for the tenth time and looked around. The house was spotless, the aroma of cookies filling the air. She took a deep breath, feeling the growing excitement in her chest. "Everything needs to be perfect," she murmured to herself.

And then, the doorbell rang.

When you stepped in, Wanda was at the door with a smile that seemed a little wider than usual, the gleam in her eyes betraying her excitement. Seeing you in her home, with her kids—your kids—made everything feel so right.

"Welcome, Y/n. It’s so good to see you."

You smiled shyly, holding a small backpack. "Thank you, professor. It’s a pleasure to be here."

Wanda gestured for you to come in. "Please, just Wanda here. Come, I want to introduce you to the boys."

Billy and Tommy were in the living room, sitting on the couch, clearly curious but trying to play it cool.

"Boys, this is Y/n, your new tutor. Y/n, these are my sons, Billy and Tommy."

You waved a little nervously. "Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can have fun while learning."

Billy smiled shyly. "Hi."

Tommy was more straightforward. "My mom says you’re funny. Is that true?"

You chuckled softly, relaxing a bit. "Well, that depends on you. But I can try."

Tommy tilted his head, a glint of challenge already in his eyes. "Then show me what you’ve got."

You tilted your head, thinking for a moment before saying:

"Alright, here goes: Why did the book go to the hospital?"

Tommy frowned, confused. "Why?"

Billy, now curious, asked, "What happened to it?"

You gave a playful smile. "Because it broke its spine!"

Billy burst out laughing while Tommy tried to hold back but ended up laughing too, shaking his head.

"That was terrible!" Tommy said, but the grin on his face gave away that he enjoyed it.

"Terrible? I’d call it genius," you replied, crossing your arms with an air of mock superiority.

"Yeah. She’s kinda cool," Tommy muttered to Billy, who nodded in agreement.

You asked them to sit down and share which subjects they found most challenging. Billy and Tommy glanced at each other, as if sharing a secret no one else could understand. The silent connection between them was so palpable that you felt a pang of affection.

"History," they replied in unison, making you chuckle softly, fascinated by how synchronized they were, even in the smallest details.

The twins were captivating. Their eyes sparkled with intelligence and a lively energy that felt familiar, as if a piece of Wanda was in each of them, yet they were uniquely themselves. You couldn’t help but be charmed, feeling something warm bloom in your chest—a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

"History…" You held the word in the air for a moment, as if it had weight. "Can you be more specific? Art history? Greek history? Norse history? American history?" You offered the options playfully, but they didn’t seem very impressed.

"All of them," they replied without hesitation, their casual tone making you raise your eyebrows.

You narrowed your eyes, leaning slightly forward as if engaging in a silent duel. "Alright, gentlemen… Listen closely," you began, your voice taking on a solemn yet warm tone. "I’m going to make you love history. Or my name isn’t Y/n."

The defiant tone awakened something in the boys. Tommy crossed his arms with a mischievous grin, while Billy tried to maintain a serious expression but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, Miss,” Tommy replied, his tone brimming with competitive enthusiasm. “We accept your challenge.”

Billy nodded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Let’s see if you can do it.”

As you observed them, you realized that in just a few minutes, they had already tugged at your heartstrings. They weren’t just adorable; they were spirited, curious, and full of life. You smiled at them, feeling a connection growing—a quiet and unexpected bond, like their presence filled a space you hadn’t known was empty.

You picked up a book on Greek mythology and stood in front of the boys, holding it as if it were a secret treasure. “Ready to dive into tales of gods, monsters, and heroes?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Billy and Tommy nodded eagerly, their gazes fixed on you.

“It all begins at the dawn of time, when there was nothing but chaos,” you said, spreading your arms dramatically, as if summoning the void. “Then, suddenly, Gaia, the Earth, and Uranus, the Sky, were born. They had children... lots of children. But do you know what Uranus did?”

The boys shook their heads, curiosity piqued.

“He got scared of them! So, he locked them in Tartarus, the deepest, darkest place in the world.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice to build suspense. “But one of them, Cronus, wasn’t having it. He rebelled and became the king of the gods.”

“That’s so cool,” Tommy murmured, his eyes wide.

“Oh, but wait,” you said, raising a finger. “Cronus had a problem. A prophecy said one of his children would overthrow him. So, do you know what he did?”

“What?” Billy asked, completely engrossed.

“He… ate his own children!” you exclaimed, mimicking the gesture with your hands as if devouring something.

“Ew, gross!” Tommy said, wrinkling his nose but laughing at the same time.

“But,” you continued, lifting a finger theatrically, “their mother, Rhea, wasn’t about to let that happen. She hid the youngest, Zeus, and gave Cronus a rock wrapped in cloth instead. Cronus didn’t even notice!”

Billy burst out laughing. “What an idiot!”

“And then Zeus grew up, defeated Cronus, saved his siblings, and became the king of the gods. Which leads to a ton of other crazy stories... but this is just the beginning.”

At that moment, you noticed Wanda standing in the doorway, watching the scene with a nearly imperceptible smile on her lips.

“You’re impressing the boys,” she commented, her voice soft but full of something that made your heart skip a beat.

You shrugged, trying to hide your blush. “Well, with a story like that, it’s hard not to keep their attention, right?”

“It’s more than that,” Wanda replied, her eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “You have a special way with them. And with stories.”

“I like kids. And stories,” you whispered, just for her.

You turned back to the boys, smiling. “Alright, next question: Who thinks they’d have the guts to face a titan like Cronus?”

“Me!” Tommy immediately raised his hand.

“And me!” Billy chimed in excitedly.

You laughed, charmed by their energy. “Well, let’s see how you do in the next challenges!”

As you continued the story, you felt Wanda’s gaze still on you. It wasn’t just pride for the boys or appreciation for your teaching methods. It was something deeper, more complex—something as ancient and powerful as the myths you were recounting.

Wanda stood by the garden door, arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. From a shaded spot near the garden, she observed the boys laughing and running around you, completely immersed in the recreation of the mythological battle. Their laughter filled the air, a melody that warmed something deep within her chest.

Her eyes drifted back to you. It wasn’t just the way the boys responded to your presence that fascinated her, but also the energy you exuded. There was a passion in your movements, a genuine joy that seemed to radiate and infect everything around you.

But at the same time, there was something more. The sparkle in your eyes when you spoke to the twins, the way you seemed so at ease, even in a new environment… It all made Wanda feel unsettled, as if she were witnessing something that belonged to her being contested.

Out in the garden, you set up an improvised scene. The hose and sprinkler were strategically positioned, ready to represent the turbulent sea that separated the gods from the Norse giants. In one hand, you held a bucket with diluted red paint—your version of mythological blood.

"Alright, warriors!" you said, placing your hands on your hips and addressing Billy and Tommy as if you were about to lead an army. "Today, we're going to reenact one of the greatest battles in Norse mythology: the fight between Thor and Jörmungandr, the World Serpent!"

Tommy blinked, intrigued. "Who’s Jörmun…gandr?" He struggled with the name, making you smile at his cuteness.

"It’s a giant serpent so big it wraps around the world and bites its own tail," you explained, moving your hands in a large circle. "And guess who fights it in the final battle?"

"Thor!" Billy exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Exactly!" you replied, pointing at him as if he’d just earned points. "And today, one of you will be Thor, and the other will be Jörmungandr!"

The two exchanged glances, already excited.

"I’m Thor!" Tommy shouted, lifting a garden spade like a hammer.

"Then I’m the serpent!" Billy declared, grabbing a hose and swinging it as if it were the tail of a giant reptile.

You began narrating, swirling the red paint as if creating a storm in the bucket. "The sea is raging! The sky fills with thunder as Thor approaches the monster!" You turned on the sprinkler, and the spray of water began soaking everyone, simulating the turbulent sea.

"I attack first!" Billy yelled, spraying water from the hose at Tommy.

"Thor doesn’t back down from danger!" you narrated as Tommy charged forward with his spade. "He raises his hammer and—"

"I hit the serpent’s head!" Tommy shouted, lightly striking the ground near Billy with his spade.

"But Jörmungandr doesn’t surrender easily!" you cried, pouring a bit of red paint on the ground around them to simulate spilled blood. "The serpent coils around the hero, trying to crush him!"

Billy began spinning around Tommy, holding the hose as if it were the serpent’s body.

Wanda appeared at the garden door, crossing her arms and observing the scene with a mix of curiosity and incredulity. She remained in the shade of a tree near the garden, where the boys laughed and ran around you, completely immersed in the mythological battle reenactment. The sound of their laughter filled the air, a melody that warmed something deep in her chest. She rarely saw them so happy, so at ease with anyone other than herself.

Her gaze shifted to you. It wasn’t just how the boys responded to your presence that fascinated her but the energy you radiated. There was passion in your gestures, a genuine joy that seemed to infect everything around you.

And then, she noticed.

The sprinkler’s water had soaked your clothes. Your white blouse clung to your skin, outlining the curves of your breasts. Your hardened nipples were visible through the thin fabric. A drop of water slid from your chin to your neck, tracing a slow path that disappeared beneath the wet cloth. Your hair, plastered to your face and shoulders, dripped and gleamed under the afternoon sun.

Wanda swallowed hard, trying to look away. But it was impossible. Something about the scene left her… unsettled. It wasn’t just the sight of your body; it was the way you laughed so freely, as if nothing else existed but that moment.

Wanda wanted... She wanted...

“Are you okay, Mom?” Billy asked, running over to her, still holding the hose.

Wanda quickly composed herself, putting on a smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m just enjoying the show.”

He grinned and ran back to the “battlefield,” where you were now pretending to be a Norse dragon attacking Thor.

Wanda sighed, crossing her arms. She needed to remember she was in control. But in that moment, watching you and the boys, she wasn’t so sure that was still true.

“You’re all soaked,” she commented, raising an eyebrow.

“And that’s half the fun!” you replied, laughing as more water sprayed around. “Besides, we’re recreating history. Isn’t it amazing?”

“If this is history, I want to learn more!” Billy shouted, laughing as he tried to escape Tommy.

“Thor wins the battle,” you announced dramatically, pointing at Tommy. “But the serpent’s venom is powerful. He takes one last step and… collapses!”

Tommy pretended to faint on the ground, laughing the entire time.

Wanda shook her head, but there was a smile on her face. “I never thought teaching mythology could be so... wet.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “That’s how you learn, Wanda—with fun and, apparently, a little chaos.”

“Just don’t forget, chaos is my specialty,” she replied, her smile turning a little more mischievous.

And for a moment, you felt like you were part of that small, unlikely family.

[...]

When you entered the house, the energy felt different. The boys' laughter still echoed in your ears, but something in the air had shifted. Wanda stood near the door, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. She leaned slightly, her posture elegant, her gaze locked on you as if studying your every move.

“Boys,” she said firmly, “bath time.”

They groaned for a moment but quickly ran upstairs. Wanda remained there, watching them go before turning her attention back to you.

“You’re soaked. Do you want to change?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with something you couldn’t quite identify.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Yes, please.”

She gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “The bathroom is in my room. There’s a clean shirt in the drawer if you want to use it.”

A sudden nervousness swept over you. This wasn’t what you expected. Her bathroom? It made everything feel… personal. A palpable tension settled between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, trying to sound casual but feeling the heat rising to your face. You turned and began walking toward her bedroom, your heart pounding faster with each step.

Once inside the bathroom, you shut the door with a deep sigh. The sound of the shower water starting seemed amplified, as if every drop marked the rhythm of your nerves. Slowly, you undressed, the tension in your body increasing as you imagined Wanda outside, still watching you somehow.

The warm water couldn’t entirely wash away the unease gripping you. As you lathered up, your thoughts wandered to the possibilities. You knew Wanda was intense, but that simple gesture—offering her bathroom, her shirt—felt loaded with a significance you weren’t prepared to handle.

You hurried through your shower, trying to shake off the insecurities and focus on the moment. But when you stepped out, you felt even more anxious than before. Her shirt was far too big, the soft fabric clinging to your body in an uncomfortably intimate way. Every small movement, every breath seemed amplified in the quiet room.

You were alone, yet you didn’t feel truly alone. The sensation of being watched, even without Wanda there, lingered. Her aura seemed imprinted on the space, almost suffocating.

As you looked around the room, you noticed her meticulously made bed, the pristine white sheets that looked expensive. Your heart tightened at the thought that it wasn’t you sleeping beside her every night. On the right side of the bed—Wanda’s side, you assumed—there was a book on the nightstand. Curious, you picked it up. But the sound of the door opening startled you, and the book slipped from your hands.

“What did I say about snooping?” The redhead entered the room, crossing her arms beneath her chest, making them seem slightly fuller. There was a mix of irritation and amusement in her gaze.

You glanced at the book’s cover one last time before handing it to Wanda. “Jane Austen is a great writer. I like historical romance too.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, taking the book from her hands with an expression that suggested she was evaluating her intentions. “‘I have many flaws, but not in understanding, I hope. As for my temper, I can’t guarantee it’s very good. I believe it’s a little too harsh for the world’s conveniences. I can’t forget the madness and vices of others as quickly as I should. Nor the offenses they make against me. My feelings don’t flare up with the slightest effort or attempt. My temperament could be called resentful. Once the good opinion I have of a person is lost, it’s lost forever.’”

You were impressed as she recited Darcy effortlessly. It was so quirky! She must have read it countless times.

A delighted smile formed on her lips. “‘This is truly a flaw,’” you began theatrically. “‘Relentless resentment is a trait that marks a character. You’ve chosen your flaw well. In fact, I can’t laugh at it. There’s no need to be afraid of me.’”

“‘I believe that in every temperament, there’s a tendency toward a particular form of evil, a natural vice that even the best education can’t extinguish.’” Wanda pressed her lips together, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. She suddenly laughed at your expression, which had become grumpy.

"And your flaw is a tendency to threaten to shoot red power balls at everyone, I imagine," you shot back, just as if you were talking about real life.

"Ah, and yours is irritating everyone with that sharp tongue of yours. I believe that applies perfectly here, by the end of the conversation."

You clicked your tongue before moving closer to her. "No... Darcy was a bit detestable at first. You're more like Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew." Your tone was mocking, but your voice had grown lower, almost intimate.

It’s funny how natural it is that your flirtations and jabs turned into shared literary tastes. Classics are always welcome at the worst of times, and just by Wanda’s deadly gaze, she certainly knows who Katherine is.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp as a blade. "And I suppose you’re the stubborn beast of Petruchio, aren't you?"

You laughed, closing the distance between you. The heat radiating from her skin was intoxicating. "I don't usually cast myself as the male part of any story, but since you made the comparison... Katherine ends up tamed and married to Petruchio." Your insinuation made Wanda lick her lips, a visible attempt to contain her growing irritation.

"Are you implying you can tame me? As if I were some wild creature?" Wanda stepped forward, and you realized you were about to cross an important line.

You studied her face, every detail—the furrow between her brows, her clenched jaw. She was beautiful, furious, and captivating. Your heart raced, and the desire to kiss her became almost unbearable.

"Not a wild creature, but you can certainly be tamed." Your tone was full of provocation, but the intensity in your eyes betrayed something else.

The pressure in the room intensified, and Wanda’s control shattered. Her powers began to manifest; a faint red glow appeared in her eyes, and objects around you started to levitate slowly. The air grew heavier, charged with tension and raw magic.

"I’d kill you right now if I could," Wanda growled, her voice low and threatening, but her eyes gleamed with something deeper—a conflict between anger and desire.

The fuse. The pulse between your legs was about to drive you crazy. You smiled, a wicked grin full of desire.

"Well, lucky for you, you can't." With a swift movement, you pulled her neck, thrusting your tongue into her mouth. Wanda moaned against your lips, a sound that reverberated through you like an electric shock.

At first, she resisted. Her lips were tense, her body rigid. But then, control shattered completely. Wanda surrendered to the kiss with an almost desperate ferocity, her hands grabbing your hair, pulling you closer.

Objects around you continued to float, creating a chaotic spectacle in the room. But neither of you seemed to care. All that existed was the heat, the touch, the taste of each other.

She pulled you by the hair, seeing her from above—so powerful, it couldn’t be more exciting.

"You’re so unbearable..." She murmured, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

"Oh, come on! You don’t know the reputation you have at the university?" You shot back, giving her a provocative smile. Wanda's eyes shone wild, and she yanked your hair again, pulling your neck along.

"Say it." She demanded, biting the curve of your ear.

"They say you like this." Your voice came out broken by the small bites Wanda was placing on your neck.

"Like what, dekta?" Her veiny hands caressed your body with lust, and it made your head spin.

"You—"

She interrupted you with a hard bite to your shoulder—it was clear she was taking out her anger on you.

"That I like little girls with a clever mouth? Who like to challenge me so I can break every last bit of their confidence?" The woman bit your breast, still covered by fabric. "Oh, darling. They couldn’t be more right."

And then, there, under Wanda’s command — you understood.

She did it all the time. She diminished you, devalued you on purpose. It didn’t matter how flawless your work was; Wanda always found a way to belittle it, to clip your wings before you could fly. Every sharp remark, every gaze that seemed to pierce through your soul, was carefully calculated to chip away at your confidence. She humiliated you, intimidated you…

And in some twisted way, it aroused you more than you cared to admit.

Never before had you been the object of such specific, visceral attention. It was wrong — you knew that. But the intensity in her gaze, the way she deliberately kept you under her control, stirred something deep within you.

It was a power game — cruel, immoral — yet irresistibly magnetic. And you couldn’t look away.

Wanda tugged harder on your hair, forcing your legs to give out from the pain. "Shh... Don’t fight, darling," she whispered against your lips. "Kneel. Know your place."

Your knees hit the floor, and all you could see was the victorious smile on her face.

"Right beneath me," she murmured. "With those doe-like, pleading eyes." She exhaled deeply, as if she’d been holding her breath for too long.

She stepped back, leaving you staring at the floor alone. The only sound was the soft tapping of her footsteps on the wooden floor and the lingering warmth of her power that filled the room.

When you lifted your head, determined to face her, the sight before you was nothing short of glorious — Wanda seated in a green armchair by the window overlooking the neighborhood. She looked majestic, glowing with a scarlet aura, making it impossible not to submit.

This wasn’t just Wanda Maximoff. This was The Scarlet Witch.

Your mouth went dry. Even without experience, you knew what you wanted — what you needed. But Wanda seemed to know more than you did, because her smug smile only made your core pulse with need. The rhythm of her crossed legs swaying ever so slightly seemed to call to you.

“Crawl.”

The witch’s harsh command struck you, and adrenaline surged through your veins, making you tremble. “Crawl to me, pet, and I’ll spare you.”

A witch like Wanda possessed countless abilities, infinite powers. Yet, as she watched you crawl toward her, Wanda understood the true meaning of power.

It was a feeling that transcended magic, surpassing the control she wielded over the world around her. It was deeper, more primal. The witch within her wanted to claim everything — her space, her pain, her vengeance. But most of all, she wanted to claim you.

When you stopped at her feet, Wanda tilted her head as if examining an unfinished masterpiece. Her hand slid to your face, her touch gentler than she had intended. Her fingers traced the curve of your jaw, trembling slightly when they reached your chin.

Her voice was low but commanding. There was no room for doubt. It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. Her eyes glowed intensely, the energy around her flickering like a halo of power.

She uncrossed her legs with an almost feline grace, letting her bare foot rest on the floor as she leaned back comfortably in the green chair. Every movement she made was imbued with natural sensuality, as if she was born to be worshipped.

“Let’s see if your instincts are as sharp as your tongue,” she teased, a slight smirk on her lips, fully aware you were ensnared in her spell.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Wanda seemed untouchable — like a goddess carved in marble. Strong, imposing, unreachable — and yet, all you wanted was to kneel before her.

Shame and desire blended together. You were desperate to please her, to be worthy of being at her feet.

“I’m waiting,” Wanda arched a brow, her tone impatient. “Or are you all talk? Prove you can do more than provoke.”

Your breath grew heavier as your knees touched the floor once more. Her words echoed like a commandment. Prove yourself. Show her you understand. That she is everything.

Your eyes locked on the delicate curve of her ankle, the bones shifting subtly beneath her pale skin. Her foot was perfect, every detail made to be adored.

Your mouth went dry, but the primal desire rising within you overwhelmed everything else.

Slowly, you tilted your head, never breaking eye contact with Wanda. The world seemed to stop. Nothing else mattered except this moment, the connection between the two of you.

“Good girl,” Wanda’s voice came as a rare praise, sending a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t know if she was using magic or if it was simply the power she had over you, but you felt as though you were under a spell. Every movement you made was guided by an ancient instinct — a desire to worship, to surrender completely.

Your lips brushed against the top of her foot, and Wanda let out a satisfied sigh. The tension in the air shifted, replaced by something more intimate. More profound.

“Keep going.”

You obeyed without hesitation, tracing kisses along the arch of her foot. Your trembling fingers barely dared to touch her. Wanda was more than human. She was pure power, and you felt every particle of it.

Wanda’s eyes closed for a brief moment, her lips parting in a silent sigh. When she looked back at you, there was something softer in her gaze. Admiration? Satisfaction? Perhaps even… affection.

“See how easy that is?” Her voice remained firm, but there was a tenderness hidden within her words. “My little pet knows exactly where she belongs, doesn’t she?”

You nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“Say it.”

Your voice trembled, but it carried truth. “At your feet.”

Wanda’s smile widened, not with arrogance, but with contentment.

“Good girl.”

Then she leaned down just enough to capture your mouth in a bruising kiss, drawing a moan of satisfaction from both of you.

“Mommy should give you your reward now, shouldn’t she?”

Then there was that damned M word that made your belly contract. You squirmed at how hard it was for you to hold back, so you sought some relief in the friction of your own thighs.

Wanda opened herself to you like a flower, and at that moment you discovered that the older woman was not wearing panties, making her bittersweet scent rise to you, making your salivate.

“Do you want it, pet?” She asked, lifting her hips a little so you could see better and you felt like you might faint.

“Please, please…” You found yourself in an endless loop of begging, which made Wanda smile as she panted in lust.

“Such a good girl… She learned so quickly to beg for mommy’s pussy.” She stroked your chin, so gently that you rubbed against her hand like a cat seeking affection from its owner.

“Come, pet. Take it all.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Giving a big lick with the base of your tongue just to taste it, you hear her take a deep breath, relaxing into the upholstery. Her scent suffocating you and making your eyes roll back.

Letting out a ragged sigh as her warm, soft tongue licked your most intimate juncture, flooding Wanda's senses with intense pleasure. Wanda grips your hair between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

"Eyes on me, baby girl."

She grinds her hips up involuntarily, seeking more of that skillful, soapy attention. You continue with small kitten licks, leaving Wanda a little trembling with anticipation on top of you. When you move your tongue in large, lazy circles, Wanda moans—encouraging you to push your mouth even further against her pussy.

"Ugh, yes… just like that…"

For Wanda, this was just the beginning. The sordid things she would do to you… Your stupid, naughty little girl mind could not even imagine. The excitement isn't just in the act. In fact, it never was. Everything she imagined since she laid eyes on you. Everything. It was already underway.

Your little face between her legs only proves it.

“Fuck, you're good… so good for your mommy.”

Wanda's moans leave you senseless, her praises blur your mind and you feel like you need a lot more of this. Your mouth moves away from the woman's clit to leave small wet kisses on her thigh.

The witch's eyes glow red with a fierce and predatory glow, the hunger burning stronger than ever.

“Don't tease me, stupid little slut…” Wanda says through gritted teeth, making you moan at the insult. “Get back to work and show me what a talented little pussy-sucker you can be…”

A feral growl rumbles in your chest, her teasing… leaving you with a wild desire to be good for her, to please her more than anything.

“Now, suck my clit like the eager little slut I know you are…”

You can only obey the witch’s request. Pushing your mouth even further against her pussy, it’s when you scrape your teeth against the woman’s clit that you hear her howl—pain and pleasure. A raw, guttural scream leaves Wanda’s throat as you tease her sensitive, swollen bud with just the right amount of pressure and force.

“Uuuunghhhh, God…!” She grinds her hips against your insistent mouth, seeking more of the sharp, exquisite sensation.

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, fuck! I’m going to kill you!” Her fingers fist in your hair, tugging mercilessly as she rides your tongue with wild abandon.

The scarlet red all over the room, the incandescent, magical glow boiling on your skin. “You’re going to make me cum, naughty girl, just like that… Mommy’s little young slut is going to make her cum… Right there, yes!” The witch’s back arches off the chair, her entire being centered on the intense, violent pleasure radiating from her core.

You feel everything around you literally spin. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you see the bed floating across the room, hitting the ceiling—it’s mind-boggling.

“OH FUCK, OH FUCK, FUCK, DO IT, PET!”

The words dissolve into raw, wild sounds as her climax overtakes her, waves of ecstasy crashing over her in a relentless torrent.

You feel the older woman’s legs tremble above you. Your ego soaring, you don’t even notice the woman’s still red eyes above you. As your orgasm subsides, Wanda notices your awestruck gaze, still transfixed by the spectral, crimson display of the displaced objects.

“Yeah, kind of like that…” She smiles teasingly, watching your lips wet with her pleasure.

Wanda pulls you by the back of your neck, clashing your lips in a fight that she would clearly win.

"Mommy isn't done with you yet, honey…" she murmurs like a solemn promise.

"Mommy…" You say softly, still mesmerized by her and still kneeling.

Something about how you say it makes Wanda savor the word. "Say it again." She commands, looking into your eyes.

"Mommy." You repeat, now more confident.

The older woman hums in approval and gets up from the chair, her legs still a little shaky from the recent orgasm.

She throws you on top of her king-size bed and walks over to you with superhuman eyes.

"Mommy is dying to take what is rightfully hers."

She climbs on top of you, taking off the blouse that covers you and making obscene movements on top of your jeans.

"Nobody touched here, did they, honey? You didn't let anyone touch that tight pussy, did you?"

You gasped and denied it vehemently. The words coming out of the woman's mouth were making you dumb.

"No… I'm a virgin."

You say and feel the woman's wicked smile on the curve of your neck.

"Of course you are. You're made for me… such a good girl waiting for me."

The woman's lips traveled the length of your neck, giving you goosebumps. Wanda's hands trembled with restraint as she stared at your soft skin, the delicate folds and tempting curves yet to be savored. With a deft movement, she undoes your shorts, dragging the jeans down your thighs while her gaze remains fixed on the flesh that awaits her.

"Mommy will use all your holes until you become a perfect, dumb whore for her," she said with her nails digging into your waist, leaving half-moon marks. "You're perfect…" in her eyes there was adoration for you and nothing else.

The words left Wanda’s mouth in a reverent whisper, almost as if they were a secret reserved only for you. Her eyes glowed, but not with the power you knew so well—not with that menacing red glow. No. Now, they were a deep, warm sea, filled with adoration.

The way she looked at you, even with you beneath her, made your heart race and your skin tingle. There was nothing but devotion in her gaze, as if you were the most precious thing she had ever touched.

Her fingers, strong and steady, slid over your body with care and possession, as if she were committing every curve of yours to memory. You let out a needy moan, unable to contain the wave of desire her words stirred within you. There was something intoxicating about being so vulnerable, so surrendered, and yet somehow feeling in control.

“Look at me,” Wanda murmured, her voice low but full of command. Your eyes didn’t waver for a second. You obeyed, lifting your gaze to meet hers. And there it was—the intensity was almost overwhelming, a kind of fervor that made her legs tremble. There was something so raw about that moment, as if she were seeing into the most hidden parts of his soul and yet choosing to love each and every one of them.

“You have no idea…” Wanda continued, her lips brushing his skin, her breath hot against his neck. “How you make me feel. Powerful. Invincible.”

Even in her submissive position, something in you blossomed under that gaze. Her power felt like an embrace, firm and unshakable, but never cruel. You were exposed, defenseless, but you had never felt so protected.

“You will learn to crave my touch, my presence, as deeply as I crave you. Your perfect, submissive little body belongs to me now. I will mold you, transform you into the most obedient, desperate slut imaginable… and you will beg for the chance to serve me.”

Wanda’s lips brushed the shell of your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Each whispered word carried a weight that made your body tremble, not from fear, but from pure anticipation.

“You will be the best toy a witch like me has ever had…” Her voice was a mix of desire and threat, like poisoned honey that you couldn’t resist. “And I will never let you go.”

Her tone was possessive, each syllable carefully loaded with intent. Wanda’s hands slid down your ribs, her fingers pressing lightly against your skin as if she were marking her territory.

“I’m going to tease you until you beg for release,” she continued, her tongue lightly brushing your earlobe, making an involuntary moan escape your lips. “And even then… maybe I won’t give you what you want. Maybe I’ll just stay here…” She slid her lips to your neck, where she placed a hot, slow kiss. “Watching you writhe, completely at my mercy.”

Your breathing quickened, and you felt the muscles in your body tighten. Her heat was almost overwhelming, and the way she spoke—so confident, so in control—made your mind spin with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“Then I’m going to tie you up, blindfold you,” she murmured, her teeth scraping lightly against your skin. “And leave you waiting. With no idea what I’m going to do next. Every second a delicious torture… until you learn there’s no escape.” That you are mine, completely.”

Your heart was pounding, your head spinning with the intensity of her words. Her hands slowly moved up his back, firm and possessive, as she planted another kiss on your shoulder. “You like that, don’t you?” Wanda asked, her voice a dark melody. “You like knowing that even when I’m cruel, it’s still for you. That everything I do is so you’ll never forget… who you belong to.”

You bit your lip, instinctively moistening it. Your head fell back slightly, your eyes half-closed as you tried to form words, but nothing coherent came out.

“Answer me, dekta,” Wanda ordered softly, her hand now cupping your chin so you looked her straight in the eye. “Or I might have to teach you what happens when little girls disobey their mommies.”

Wanda’s tone was seductive and cruel, the veiled threat in her voice as intoxicating as the firmness with which she held your face. You felt a deep shiver run down your spine, each word like an electric current that lit up every nerve in your body.

Your body trembled, not from fear, but from an anticipation so overwhelming that you could barely breathe. Your heart pounded, your mind flooded with a mixture of shame and desire. Her power over you was absolute, and in that moment, everything in you screamed for submission.

“Mommy…” you murmured, the word slipping out almost without thinking, your voice shaky and choked by the tension Wanda was creating around you.

Your eyes were glazed over, as if you were in a trance, completely at the mercy of that overwhelming presence.

Wanda smiled, an arrogant, cruel smile, but undeniably beautiful. She tilted her head, her eyes shining with something that seemed like pure satisfaction.

“Look at you,” she said softly, but the firmness in her voice made every muscle in your body tense in response. “You can’t even think, can you, my little whore?”

Your body trembled in anticipation, her every word like an invisible rope tightening around you. You knew Wanda was dangerous, but at that moment, the only thing you could think about was how much you wanted to find out how far she was willing to go.

The throbbing between your legs was mind-blowing, you needed to relieve yourself urgently. But before you could rub yourself against your own thighs, Wanda stopped you.

“You’re already so wet, you filthy girl. Can’t resist the thrill of pleasing Mommy, can you?” she purrs, her free hand sliding down to cup the juncture between your thighs, rubbing in firm, possessive circles. She places her knee against your pussy, causing a delicious, excruciating pressure. “I bet you can come like this. Rubbing yourself against my knee like a bitch in heat, can’t you?”

You respond with a long moan, your tongue lolling out, the intense pressure and tantalizing sensation of her knee against your hypersensitive folds making you whimper and buck in helpless need, your own hips instinctively moving to grind against the unyielding obstruction.

“That’s it, dirty slut… Let Mommy see how much you want to come. Rub yourself against my leg like the desperate little slut you are.”

“Want to come like this?” She asks, making you whimper. Thinking about anything was too difficult. Maybe you should let her take control of everything. "I asked you a question!"

You gasp when you feel the woman slap your left cheek. "Wanda, I want… more!" You manage to finish with difficulty.

"Who?" She asks, forcing her knee deeper into your entrance, making you cry out.

"Mommy!" You correct yourself, humming in approval.

"There's my good girl." She praises you, "What do you want, darling?" Wanda makes circular movements with her tongue on your nipples, hard as rocks. "My mouth. My fingers. My cock." Hearing her, you whimper.

"Oh. Fuck…" You gasp loudly.

"Greedy little girl… You want all of these, don't you?"

As if summoned by Wanda's wicked touch and piercing gaze, your fantasies take on a life of their own, your mind feverish with desire. You need it all—every hungry bite, every deep, devastating thrust, every stroke of a masterful hand across your skin.

The sheer intensity of your need consumes you, leaving nothing but desperation, longing, pleading in its wake. “Yes, Mommy,” you finally confess in a breathless whisper, “I need it all. I need you in every way imaginable.” With a low, triumphant growl, Wanda surges forward, her skilled fingers delving between those slick, panting thighs once more.

She teases and claws at you, building the pressure to a fever pitch even as her lips and tongue continue their relentless assault on your sensitive peaks.

“Such a greedy little sex toy,” the older woman murmurs against the quivering flesh, her voice a husky, wicked caress. “Ready to take it all like the perfect slut you were born to be.”

Upon reaching your pussy, Wanda sucks on your outer lips—extracting the sweet honey. The woman’s expert tongue swirls over your clit, making you gasp. You tense and writhe under Wanda’s relentless assault, the wicked witch’s tongue teasing, tasting, claiming every last drop of your offering.

Your soaked, throbbing folds pulse in rhythm with each skillful, searching stroke, the desperate need building to a fever pitch within your core.

“Oh, shit, oh shit, oh fuck—” Your voice cracks, a harsh, pleading moan that reflects the wild, aching desire coursing through your veins. You grind shamelessly against Wanda’s mouth, lost in the overwhelming tsunami of sensation, the relentless drive for release.

“Please, Wanda. I need you—I want you—” you choke in pleasure, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of the abyss of pleasure.

With a naughty giggle, Wanda replaces her mouth with her fingers, alternating between your clit and your hot entrance. “You’re so close already, aren’t you? All that stimulation Mommy gave you was too much, wasn’t it?” She said, as she rested her chin on top of your mons venus—watching you with burning eyes.

“…So close, please! I feel so good. So good to you, I—” The tears in the corners of your eyes indicate how strong an orgasm you will have.

With a sly smile, Wanda responds, her expert fingers curling and stroking that sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves in deliberate, unyielding circles.

“Come for me, pet,” she purrs darkly against the quivering flesh, “Give me all that sweet, dripping honey. Show Mommy how well-trained a little sex toy like you can be…” The cruel, relentless pleasure builds and builds until your mind goes blank.

As your orgasm hits, you feel a sharp pain between your legs—and for some reason, the mixture of mild pain and intense pleasure increases the throbbing in your belly even more.

“Fuuuck me!!!” The raw, primal sound of ecstasy as your sensitive, tingling flesh shudders and contracts around the older woman’s hand. Your hips buck violently, lost in the tormenting ecstasy of surrender, of release.

In the stormy haze of your climax, a fleeting agony sparks through the velvety softness of your sex—a burning, stinging sensation that for just a moment eclipses the thunderous ecstasy. Yet in the next heartbeat, the exquisite wave of pleasure returns, even more intense, taking you even higher. You were going to come again, and Wanda knew it.

“Yeahhhhh… So tight, my stupid whore,” Wanda’s voice is a seductive growl, a dark promise in every word. "Like this. Take it all, let me have it all…" Her fingers move faster, hitting the spongy spot inside you.

"Are you going to cum again?" the wicked witch asked, thrusting harder. "Are you going to cum with Mommy's little finger in you? Are you going to make a mess of your Mommy's bed?"

"YESSSSS!!!! OH FUUUUUCKKKKKK Mommy, Mommy! "I'M GONNA-C--" Your screams are abruptly cut off as a new burst of intense, shuddering ecstasy rips through your very being.

In that fleeting instant of total surrender, your senses blur into a sea of ​​sensations - the stinging, relentless pleasure, the dark, possessive hunger in Wanda's eyes, the intimate, slippery thrill of possession. Every nerve ending, every synapse is alight with the desire to be filled, to be used, to be claimed… to surrender completely to the relentless, insatiable desire that has ensnared you.

With your breathing quickened and your body trembling, you couldn't speak or move—all you could do was cry and let out all the emotion pent up in your chest.

Wanda noticed the tears rolling down your face before you did. At first, an expression of concern formed in her eyes, replaced by a deep affection that softened you completely. With surprising care, considering the intensity she had shown minutes before, she leaned over you, her fingers still black with power—shakingly wiping away the salty drops that ran down your cheeks.

"Hey, dekta…" her voice was low, sweet, almost a melody. "Are you okay? Talk to me."

You tried to open your mouth, but no sound came out. Still, Wanda seemed to understand. She lay down next to you, wrapping you in her arms with a warmth that was not only physical, but almost magical. Her fingers traced soft patterns on your skin as she whispered words of comfort.

"Shh… it's okay. I'm here. It was all too much for you, wasn't it, pretty girl?"

She ran her hand through your hair, her eyes fixed on you with a kind of reverence that seemed almost sacred. There was no rush, just a constant care and tenderness that seemed to embrace all the broken pieces you didn't even know you carried.

“You’re so precious to me,” Wanda murmured, more to herself than to you. “I would face armies for you. Ask for anything, and I’ll give it to you, my little one.” The witch kissed the top of your head, feeling her own heart swell with something she couldn’t quite name.

Your chest tightened at her words, and a soft sob escaped your lips as a sense of safety unlike anything you’d ever known washed over you. She leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead, as though wanting to carve the moment into her memory.

“You don’t need to understand it now, but what I feel for you… it’s greater than anything I’ve ever known.” Her eyes gleamed with something that danced between love and possessiveness, though it didn’t make her any less careful or tender.

She pulled the blanket over both of you, wrapping you tighter against her. “Cry as much as you need, my girl. I’m here. I will always be here.”

That moment was more than comfort; it was a vow. A silent promise that Wanda seemed determined to keep, no matter the cost.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, was pure, raw power—a storm incarnate, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality with a simple gesture. In battle, she was wild, relentless, a hurricane of might no one dared to defy. But with you… it was different.

You were the key to a side of her she never believed could exist—a side that longed for more than destruction and control. A side that wanted to feel and be felt, to be seen and understood. You were the doorway to her own humanity, a part of herself she’d almost forgotten was there.

There was something about you that dismantled all her carefully constructed defenses, disarming her in a way no external force ever could. And it infuriated her. It terrified her. But it also made her crave you with a primal, almost desperate intensity.

She was hard, unyielding—always would be. But with you, she’d discovered what it meant to be vulnerable. Your touch, your gaze, your unwavering trust in her were like a key turning in the rusted gears of a hardened heart.

As she held your face between her hands, still trembling from the ecstasy only she could give you, Wanda realized that no matter how brutal or wild she was, you were the only being in the universe capable of turning her into something more than chaos and destruction.

And that made her want to protect you more than anything else. To shield you from pain, from the world, even from herself—but never to let you go. Because, in the end, you weren’t just the key to who Wanda could be.

You were her destiny, as certain as the power burning through her veins. And she would never let another life, another universe, tear you apart again.

Even with your eyes closed, you felt Wanda’s every word like the notes of an ancient melody, echoing inside you. Her moans, rough and filled with intensity—still playing in a loop in your mind—were more than sounds; they were verses of a visceral poem that seemed to envelop and consume you slowly.

Every sigh carried a secret. Every whisper felt like a hidden promise. And every sound that escaped her lips was a spell, binding you deeper into an abyss where pleasure and devotion intertwined.

It was as if Wanda was composing something eternal—a song only the two of you could hear and understand. And you? You were the sheet music, the instrument, the meaning behind every line and verse.

In that instant, lost between her words and the overwhelming intensity of the moment, you realized you had surrendered more than just your body.

Your soul, with all its scars and longings, had been written by Wanda. And her words—sweet, fierce, and insatiable—would be etched into you as the most beautiful, cruel poetry you’d ever know.

~*~

and yes, it was too much for you.

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

[detailtilted]

NEW Enhanced Edition - VANCON 2011 - J2 Breakfast

Direct link to video. Link to YouTube channel. (20 videos available.)

My latest video is up. It's the J2 breakfast from VANCON 2011. Nearly 100% of the video is from AgtSpooky, and 65% of the audio. There was a tiny 3-second blip where the video cut out, and there were no alternate video sources that I could find to cover it. However, SPNJAVideos from YouTube very graciously sent me an audio recording they'd made at the con and I was able to edit that in. I was ecstatic that at least we can have uninterrupted audio!

My next video will be the main J2 panel. It's an hour long, so it could take me up to six weeks to finish it at my typical pace. I'll publish it sooner if I can. That's my last panel for which I have videos from the amazing AgtSpooky. After that, I'll circle around to some of the earlier and more challenging conventions that I'd skipped and try to bring order to that chaos.

Before/After Comparison Photo

A recap for anyone not familiar with this project…

In December 2023, I started a project to enhance old convention videos. The project is mostly focused on Jared and Jensen, but there will occasionally be videos with other actors. I'm upscaling the videos and making other visual improvements, adding extra content to clarify various references, and adding human-generated, color-coded subtitles so you can better understand the sometimes-chaotic audio. The subtitles can be auto-translated to other languages via YouTube.

My goal is to publish the best, most complete, and most watchable versions of these older convention panels yet seen, but this is only possible thanks to the fans who captured the footage in the first place and were generous enough to share it with other fans. My video descriptions on YouTube will always credit my sources.

If you have any old convention videos you'd be willing to contribute to this project, please message me! I can also be reached at DetailTilted@gmail.com. If I can get them to upscale (I can't always), I'd happily send the upscaled files back to you for your own collection whether I use them or not.

[sir-adamus]

i've got the blu ray for volume 1 playing and i'm watching the behind the scenes video and Monty explicitly spells out how important collaboration with other creatives was in building RWBY, saying how he wanted to work with Kerry and Miles on it in creating the world and how he mostly gave them broad strokes. and it's mentioned how they all put the show bible together - i'm gonna put the whole transcript for the video under the cut (which i'm having to do myself because no one has uploaded this video anywhere as far as i can tell and there's no fucking subtitles)

Monty Oum [Creator and Director]: It’s the stories I’ve always wanted to tell versus the idea I came up with about, a little over a year ago. And we were talking about doing another show, and I just kind of half-asleep came up with the idea of a color rule for a bunch of characters. The red, white, black and yellow color scheme was something that was very prominent even in my previous work, so I started matching names up, matching ideas up. Also thinking about like, some of the ideas I’d stored up over the years. At some point or another the word ‘RWBY’ came to me.

Monty: Starting the show out originally, I designed the original character, Ruby, as well as going into the other characters. So once I had the first trailer done, and thinking about the rest of the characters for the show, I started bringing in other artists who I had watched for years. People I’d always said ���someday I’ll work with them, someday I’ll have them design for me.” And when I was certain about having certain characters, I first contacted an artist I admired and found over DeviantArt. Her name was Ein Lee, she’s actually from Taiwan, and I found her art probably well over five years ago, and just loved her art style, and therefore wanted to incorporate it into my characters. So, I would do rough designs for team RWBY as well as designs for team JNPR, and she would flesh that out to be even further. To the point where eventually I didn’t need to design characters anymore, she started designing a bunch of the rest of the characters down the line.

Monty: The second person I brought on to RWBY was Kerry, because we had just been having conversations about the kind of show we could make. I’d been working with Miles on Season 10. He was writing scenes while I was making scenes, and so the three of us would have a lot of meetings and collaborate on the show to the point where I just started coming up with the broad strokes eventually and they had pretty much written the bulk of the show. Collaboration’s a big deal here, and I tried to include as many people as I can.

Kerry Shawcross [Co-writer]: Right after RvB ended, we wanted to just go straight into RWBY, but that was like right when we were going into commercial season. So we would work our normal hours here. Like 10 to 7-ish, then we would go back to one of our apartments and just start writing.

Miles Luna [Co-writer]: Monty really was enthusiastic about having these characters that may appear really one-dimensional for like the first few scenes that you see them, but the longer you get to know them, you realise “Oh, Yang isn’t just a dumb blonde party girl. She’s a very caring and nurturing girl, that has had to essentially be there for Ruby when she was young.”

Kathleen Zuelch [Producer]: When Monty and Miles and Kerry came to me, and really took me through the story. I started becoming a huge believer, because I’m a big fan of old school, traditional fairy tales, I love the Brothers Grimm, I love all the Snow White, and I love Little Red Riding Hood. I grew up with all of those stories, and the way that they were very clever in creating this whole world that’s kind of making homage to all of these amazing stories really inspired me to get more on board with what they wanted to do with this whole anime show.

Taylor McNee (née Pelto) [Art Director]: The world of RWBY, it looks very familiar. We wanted a blend of very classic looking architecture and clothing and cars, but we’re also mixing in this really kind of futuristic feel, like these little touches of some really futuristic stuff like holograms and things that you wouldn’t find in a classic [inaudible]. And that’s how we’re making this world unique. Our assets have to go through this pipeline of concept, modelling, texturing, and then finally being able to be put into the 3D program. So we start out with the concept and we usually bring that image into Maya, which is the main 3D software that we use. We have to make a 3D model that looks exactly like the concept that we were given, and it’s quite a process. Basically, we’re pushing polys and extruding stuff until we make the perfect shape, then afterwards we have to UV unwrap it, and then lay everything out on a texture sheet and then paint it, and that will put the image on the model. After that we’re basically done with the model and texture, and then we have to give it to the animators. So then we will set it up in Poser so the animators can grab it and use it for their characters.

Gray Haddock [Lead Editor]: There’s a lot of people working on this show, and there’s a lot of different elements in the pipeline. Editorial kinda serves as a hub between all the different departments, so we help all the communication and coordination between all the different pieces of the show, depending on what part of development that they’re in. Editorial’s getting involved way early in the process, we work alongside the director and the writers and the storyboard artists, and we use the scripts to help develop the storyboards and the camera angles for all those boards. So editorial is responsible for building up the moments of any given scene in terms of the timing and what you wanna look at, at any given moment. So we take the script and we help develop the camera angles and how long you wanna linger in a particular camera angle, look at one character or another or the scene as a whole, and the rhythm of the scene in terms of how long is it gonna take to spend on a particular line or when you want the music to come in, things like that. So we build up a set of animatics with the storyboards, and the first pass of all the audio. This is what then is handed off to the animators, so they can know exactly what is in what shot and how long do they have to animate it in a given shot. And once they’re done animating and their shot’s been approved, then their shot goes to the render farm, we get the rendered shot back and we drop it into the timeline for our episode and finesse the cut a little bit if we have to. But for the most part, we’ve done our job right and everything should pretty much be locked in for the most part by the time we’re getting animation.

Kerry: What’s kinda interesting as we’re creating the characters is, we kinda knew what kind of character they’d be. We knew Ruby would act a certain way, we knew Weiss would act a certain way, but we didn’t really know much about them. So we would get to the point where we’d be figuring out plotlines or figuring out dialogue and we’d be like “What would Weiss say here? What would Nora say here?” And then it turned into “Oh well now we know.”

Miles: Obviously we put a lot of thought into Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang before we started writing the dialogue. I remember sitting upstairs and we made a show bible, and we’re starting- we talked about likes, dislikes, personality traits. One of the first things I remember making was “Weiss drinks coffee. Blake drinks tea.”

Kerry: It’s important. It sounds not important at all, but it’s very important. It says so much about them

Miles: But it’s so important. So much about them, also it says nothing about them. It was just like- that’s just what it is.

Monty: I want the show to have resonance with people who are growing up. Cos everyone’s story is the story of kind of becoming who they are. Especially these days when the path of becoming who you are tends to be marginalised with reality. Having done what I’ve done, where I’ve essentially dropped out of high school, started learning this stuff on my own, and therefore land in a position where I get to take the things I was dreaming about when I was growing up and make it real. I tend to get a lot of response from people who are also not sure what they’re meant to become, a lot of them also have the same bright imaginations and with the way the world is, the hardships of what it means to grow up tends to marginalise who you are, and I would hate that to happen to anyone because the future is in creativity and that’s not something you can just manufacture. I actually would like this show to grow up with the people, so unlike most shows where they tend to be ageless or age very slowly, I’d like our fifteen-year-old fans watching fifteen-year-old Ruby, when they’re twenty-five, to be watching twenty-five-year-old Ruby, and to actually have some resonance with the character. Probably one of my favourite types of feedback is to say “I know this person” or “this person is just like me,” and that’s probably one of the best things about coming up with these characters.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

I was a skeptic about Criterion releasing any post-Showa Godzilla movies on disc, but lo and behold, they're teeing up Godzilla vs. Biollante, my favorite movie of all time, for 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (or just plain Blu-ray) on March 18. The description:

SPECIAL EDITION FEATURES:

New 4K digital restoration, with 5.0 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack

In the 4K UHD edition: One 4K UHD disc of the film and one Blu-ray with the film and special features

New audio commentary featuring film historian Samm Deighan, host of the podcast Eros + Massacreand coeditor of the book Revolution in 35mm

Making-of program from 1993 featuring director Kazuki Omori and special-effects director Koichi Kawakita, among others

Short documentary from 1993 about the Biollante and Super X2 vehicle concepts

Deleted special effects

TV spots and trailers

New English subtitle translation

PLUS: An essay by science-fiction and horror film expert Jim Cirronella

Yes, this means they're skipping over The Return of Godzilla and not waiting until all the Heisei films are in their hands to unload them as another box set. I was surprised at first, but it makes sense. Biollante is the only Heisei movie Toho has released on 4K in Japan so far (with The Return of Godzilla and Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II joining it in June), and arguably the best-regarded. Toho's always going to prioritize the domestic market first, so this is Criterion's best shot at a new release during Godzilla's current swell of popularity.

I have mixed feelings, as is usual when any new English kaiju/tokusatsu home release is announced. I'm glad the movie is back in physical circulation; it's again become legendary as the most difficult Godzilla movie to find on home video for a reasonable price. Only one library in my county owns it, and that number is about to spike. It'll be a major visual upgrade to boot. The non-G54 movies in the Criterion Showa box set didn't have audio commentaries, so I'm glad they sprung for one this time. I'm not familiar with Samm Deighan's work, but I think she's the first woman to record an English commentary for a Godzilla movie.

But...

I saw the Criterion presentation of Godzilla vs. Biollante at the Dryden Theater in October, and the subtitles were... simply not proofread, or at least not proofread by anyone who should have a job in the field. "More typos than a Mill Creek Ultraman Blu-ray" was how I described it at the time. I believe Criterion is using a number of vintage (we're talking probably-shown-in-Hawaii) subtitle scripts for the Toho tokusatsu films they're made available on streaming but not on disc, and I dearly hope they show more care with the Biollante 4K.

There's also no English dub.

This suggests that Toho is now doing its best to bury all the pre-Reiwa Godzilla dubs, even the ones they commissioned themselves. I doubt Criterion will bother to include the film's English visuals either. So... the version of Biollante I rented from Blockbuster some 20 years ago, the version I grew up with, will just be completely erased from the latest-and-greatest (and last?) edition. Depressing stuff. The current incarnation of Toho might be embarrassed by those old dubs, but as an indignant woman in the Diet Building once exclaimed, the truth is the truth! And Biollante's one of the films I prefer to watch dubbed (for one, nobody can argue that the English the actors spoke on set was better than that recorded by the Hong Kong Players).

Lesser concerns: I'll have to double-check, but I think the making-of program and the short documentary were on the old Echo Bridge discs too. The trailers would be new, but, well, they're trailers. So potentially nothing fresh in the featurette department, certainly not a retrospective with surviving cast and crew. (Somebody get one of those done before we lose even more of them!) And I do feel bad for Ed Godziszewski, whose commentary for Echo Bridge was effectively pocket-vetoed by Toho and is now truly never going to see the light of day.

Bleh.

[tomikashii]

tokyo debunker : obscuary ghouls with deaf mc

in light of another potentional obscuary centred episode coming soon, here is the obscuary version ! 💗

warning: ooc (?)

edward :

lived almost 400 years on earth so we damn well know that he knows how to sign (he was there when ASL was first invented 💀)

would sign to you immediately, the moment rui was busy signing to you. “i have lived here for centuries, i sure have met a ton of people like you.” he explains.

but his signing skills.. is abit rusty. his version of ASL was probably when it was first invented so you would see such unfamiliar but familiar techniques.

he doesn't go out much so don't even bother to think of running into him on campus. if there was a light of day where he does run into you there, he would use his parasol to shade you, gesturing you to turn around and meet his face up close.

would still invite you to watch videos with him. just turn on the subtitles & make do from there (he is so silly, i love him)

doesn't go on missions so the closest to him protecting you is from the door that is opening while you are going through your notifications from your phone, not aware of your surroundings.

rui :

knows what is ASL but never got the chance to learn it actually

so when he first met you, he immediately jumped on to the conclusion on learning ASL so when you do see him again, he could communicate with you 🥹

learns off the internet and would ask you for assistance. gets very hesistant and even moves away when you unconsciously almost touched his hand to sign properly 😭

would protect you from a distance, because of his curse.. he would really rely on the other ghouls or even lyca to protect you while on a mission with him.

when you do help rui with his bar, he lets you do tasks that is within his line of vision. whenever you show a sign of struggle, he would go over to your side and help out.

watch him threaten to disintegrate any customers if they mistreat you in any way ☺️ (i see him deploying lyca like a pokemon)

lyca:

a huge question mark. “.. you can't hear? are they broken?” “LYCA!” you did not hear that interaction between subaru & lyca but only see haku scratching the back of his neck awkwardly & subaru giving you a nervous smile.

had a hard time learning ASL but would go to subaru for help so that he can be more human & talk to one of his friends

since you are together quite often, he isn't afraid to defend you from the general students who will talk badly about you. so, imagine seeing lyca suddenly shouting angrily at some general students while subaru holding him back TT-TT

protects you during missions. would just jump or pounce on you to push you out of the way, using his body as a shield. when he turned into a werewolf & almost bit you, he literally started fighting himself, nudging you out of his sight.

whenever he sees you on campus, he would grab a hold of your shoulders & start shaking you so that you would turn and face him. (he thinks this will help your hearing to comeback...)

another person who would call out for you and realise that you can't hear so he would awkwardly walk over to you. 🧍🏻‍♀️

refer to my masterlink pinned on my blog for the other houses ! 💌

[necronatural]

What's Up With Dante's Name Anyway

It's fairly evident from the start Dante's name is not actually Dante. They express superficial "I've kind of heard of it, but idk what that is" reactions to a number of things, but make it clear that "Dante" is completely alien to them. Their own name!

Notable is that the sinners will write/embroider? their own names on their coats.

You can see Rodion uses her nickname, how she would like to be referred. DonQui's as the standard, a little uneven but clear and readable. Yi Sang wrote his in lowercase. Ishmael started writing hers, then before she finished tore the lower half of the coat off, preventing her from finishing her name. Gregor's is distorted; why that is is unclear, but the top 2 options are "he's right-handed and couldn't fix it once the mistake was made" and "he never learned to write to begin with". His profile seems to be the only one that's been typed out, so either way, he physically struggles to write, thus proving these are written by the Sinners personally.

Now look at Dante's.

They've interpreted the name phonetically. It's so alien to them they don't even know it's Italian. This is absolutely not their name.

Now, important to note Dante is a sinner too! They're in the lineup as #10, and they have a subtitle name just like the rest of them, "DURANTE". Durante is the poet Dante Alighieri's full name; "Dante" is a nickname, a term of familiarity.

Coincidentally, while their profile doubles down on "Dante", their jacket in that profile is written with...what's this??

DURANTE. The subtitle name.

Now, the subtitle names (purpose unknown) are also written out on the sinners, also clearly written by the sinner themselves, in their native language. On their weapons! (Mostly; Yi Sang's is on his bag, and as his knife is sheathed and obscured we can't tell if it's on there as well.)

Notable is Outis, of course;

Her subname is just her name. That's because she's based on Odysseus; "Outis" is a pseudonym, the written word's first John Doe.

This makes the reversal a little strange; going by a LC-assigned pseudonym, but your subtitle is your true name? That doesn't sound right. While it's obvious Dante can't go by their real name (their identity is being withheld for a reason, as mysterious as it may be), something is up!

My current theories are

Funniest possible option: They've been provided with a nickname as their alias, which is alien because absolutely no one has ever referred to them by nickname before

Durante is a surname; they would never be referred to as "Dante" because their first name (notably missing from their promo art's coat) is the one that would get a nickname. Notable that Durante is generally a surname nowadays.

Durante is just an alias, just like Outis', but can no longer be used due to the secrecy around Dante's previous identity

Durante is the name of D corporation (D-corp being where Dante was found, and the region that is soon to experience a mass-death-event of around 200,000 people in June of 985), which they are the CEO/Face of

Durante is the name of a specific role within the D Corporation that is self-evidently very high up, possibly tasked with being the interface for their Singularity (their Star?)

[missis-maple394]

ALBERTINE & ANJAs

DO NOT REPOST / EDIT / TRACE / MONETIZE MY ART FROM OTHER SITES.

Author’s comment:

Oh my, I really had fun making this Scribbling Witch, It's Albertine and Anja! In the original TV anime, Anja was the only familiar without Albertine, not until she finally showed up in Portable game and Magia Record anime! I'm very proud painting on this one, her curls were the most interesting to learn and learning values. It's not much but I'm glad I did want to draw her, because she is underrated witch!

I doodle this for a weekly, fun challenge on every Friday until March. This is for Aniplex JP on youtube. They are re-airing the TV Anime series of Madoka Magica; it was first aired in 7th January 2011, 9PM JST. No english subtitles, but it's worth for everyone is willing to learn japanese + rewatching scenes.

Author's Note:

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[kamehamehamlet]

Revival Project Update: The 2024 transformation! 👀👀

Thanks again to everyone who has shown support since we announced the project less than a month ago. I'm so excited to share more details about our goals for this year! I previously mentioned that I'm working to make the script available this year, what I didn't mention is that I'm revising the script, and you will be able to experience KamehameHamlet with a special staged reading of this transformed play with the original KHH cast and director on board!

The reading will be streamed online and recorded for later viewing, and following the reading we will make the revised and original scripts available.

There is one more very meaningful and super radical detail you can see here!

Be sure you don't miss the details by signing up for email updates at KamehameHamlet.com and read on to learn more about the script and staged reading!

More about the script

Why are you rewriting the script?

I'll share another post this weekend breaking down the reasoning behind the rewrite. I'll link to that post here when it's up!

How will the scripts be published?

At the very least, both scripts will be available in digital form for anyone to read. However, I will also be looking into options for printing physical copies.

Will we be able to perform the script?

This is a goal of mine, so I'm looking into options that can support myself and Play-Dot while also making the play accessible to artists of all budgets.

Any way this new version will let me be pedantic to strangers online?

Yes! The original KamehameHamlet had the subtitle 'Good Night Saiyan Prince' the revised version uses the subtitle 'Waiting for Goku.'

More about the staged reading

What is a staged reading?

Staged readings can be pretty varied, but in general, it's a stripped-down production without costumes, lights, blocking, etc. Actors are familiar with the script and may have gone through some rehearsal, but aren't expected to memorize lines.

Why a staged reading and not a full production?

I answered this question yesterday which you can read here. In summary, a staged reading will be a much easier goal to accomplish with fewer risks involved.

What should we expect from a staged reading of KHH?

A lot of these details are still up in the air. Whether we gather the actors on zoom, or bring everyone together with a professional recording equipment, the goal is to make sure it's available for people to view online. To that end I'm looking into costs for a few different levels of quality, and following that we will look into options around funding.

I want the staged reading to be incredible, how can I support it?

Right now, the best way to support the KamehameHamlet Revival Project is to:

Sign-up for email updates: This tells me you are willing to navigate off of Tumblr by a few clicks, to support or view KHH content.

Follow this blog: This helps to make sure you don't miss updates!

Share our posts: Amokslime's original post is nearing 20,000 notes. First of all, that's insane! However, the majority of people who have seen that post still don't know we are working to bring KHH back. You can help spread the word by reblogging our updates and if you see a mutual sharing the OG post, consider reblogging with our announcement!