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nat20composure · 5 months

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Astarion and Agency- The Necessity of Discomfort to Self Discovery and the Infantilization of Victims

Minor Astarion discourse ahead that mentions the treatment of SA victims post-abuse:

I want to open this post up just with like. The statement that I don't think there is a correct way to enjoy media and that I LOVE to see individual head cannons and takes on characters in media. I think that is also, to a degree, an integral part of video games because of how unique the experience of playing a game will be to every person who plays it. But it has been making me feel so incredibly sad looking through fan content, art, or discourse for BG3 specifically because of how many people have taken the route of infantilizing Astarion.

I understand the instinct to shield or protect an individual that you love and care for. I also understand that because of the nature of the things that Astarion goes through, a lot of people also feel very deep emotional stakes in him. I'm one of the many fans of the character who is a victim of SA and CSA, I really do get it. That is also why for me personally it is so demoralizing to watch so many people treat him like he is a child who cannot make his own decisions or stand up for himself. Part of that frustration stems from it feeling like a media literacy issue, and the other part of that sense of defeat is just because it feels indicative of a broader attitude that people seem to hold towards victims of abuse, particularly those who are victims of SA.

To explain what I mean by people infantilizing him: I see so many people refuse to allow him the opportunity to be hurt, or to feel uncomfortable. They see this character who has been through an immensely horrible and traumatic experience, and their instinct is to try and shield him from anything else that has the potential to upset him. I get that the people who want that aren't doing it with malicious intent, but frankly it is not really...Helpful? To try and prevent victims from Experiencing Discomfort tm. I also think it kind of disregards the entire thesis of Astarion's character and arc.

When you go through something that robs you of your selfhood and agency, the world can become a crushingly terrifying place. In Astarion, that fear presents itself in a desperation for power, control, and at the core of both of these desires- Safety. One thing the game is clear about is that he has a right to kill his abuser. He has a right to escape his situation. A lot of Astarion's personal arc is centered around being able to finally do that. But the game doesn't just leave it off at getting him to safety. So much of it is also about him needing to take responsibility for himself and his actions, with needing to learn who he as a person is.

The inclusion of the Gur children and Sebastian as characters is a good example of ways in which the game gives Astarion the opportunity to take responsibility. I think that if the intention of the arc was meant to be that "Astarion should never ever have to deal with being afraid or uncomfortable again", then the Ascended arc wouldn't Come with such heavy moral ramifications, like sacrificing the other people just like him, killing the victims he lured in, literal child murder. The game infers that he doesn't deserve to die because of the things he Needed to do to survive, but it also makes it very clear that there is a difference between addressing an Active Threat and using your fear as an excuse to hurt others. Breaking that cycle of abuse when he finally gets the chance to is what separates Spawn Astarion from Cazador.

Taking responsibility for himself, and letting himself sit in the discomfort of vulnerability ultimately ends up being a thing that he is very proud of and cherishes. If you tell him you will make sure nothing like that ever again he himself says that he doesn't want you to be his protector. And so it blows my mind when people go into all of these discussions about Astarion with this...Weird moral high ground for never, ever making or letting him make choices that might hurt him?

I see this the most when it comes to discussions about the possible polyamorous relationship with Halsin and the interaction with the drow twins in the brothel. So many people are just...outright angry? At other people engaging with either of those options? And I feel like that anger is one) rooted in the projection of their Own feelings on non-monogamy and what a victim of SA can or cannot look like. and two) Relies on undermining the agency that Astarion BEGS you for at every turn.

When it comes to the drow twins, the game adapts Astarion's response to them based on where he is in his own personal development (a really cool thing imo). Obviously, if he still doesn't feel good or safe about engaging with sex he declines and says you can feel free, though he hopes you aren't just doing it because he hasn't had sex with you. I think this makes sense: He's just gotten out of a situation where his Safety and worth were directly tied to him having sex. I imagine he feels afraid that not wanting to have sex with you makes him replaceable or inadequate because at this point in the game, he feels like that's all he has to offer. The interaction is relatively the same if you ask him for a poly amorous relationship with Halsin: He just asks you to reassure him that you aren't only doing it because he hasn't had sex with you, and then tells you he isn't worried about it otherwise.

A lot of people have taken the expression of that insecurity in combination with him still allowing you to go forward and do these things as him just "sucking it up" because he's afraid of losing you. (I am aware Shadowheart says he wouldn't be able to handle it when you ask her if you can date both of them- But keep in mind, Astarion says she wouldn't be able to either, and THAT obviously isn't true of her. For the purposes of this discussion I'm only including interactions with Astarion as a judgement of his character.) I understand that concern, but I feel this take disregards so many other points of dialogue, and is also continually rooted in the baseline vilification of discomfort.

To further go into it, the way that he speaks about both of these interactions changes significantly if you speak to him about it once he is completely free from Cazador, and has had time to allow himself to start reconnecting with himself and his sexuality on his terms. He has absolutely No reservations about an open or poly relationship with Halsin, and says he trusts that things will be ok because he one) feels secure in Your relationship and two) Knows Halsin is experienced and trusts him to not be a messy bitch about it.

I think that shift, in combination with the in game explanation of why he isn't ok with being in that sort of relationship with the other Origin Characters (for Lae'zel and Wyll, he says they'd never agree to that. For Shadowheart, he says she's not experienced with open relationships and that he doesn't think it'd work out. For Karlach, that it would break her heart. And for Gale, he says you need standards.) is a pretty good indicator that he doesn't actually care about polyamory or monogamy. I think the vilification of that choice relies on you picking and choosing when you do or do not believe Astarion or just outright not liking non-monogamy in the first place. This interaction has more to do with the player's choice and comfort level, and so is not as important to the broader discussion I am trying to have in this post.

The interaction that is more pertinent to not Allowing him to make decisions is, I think, the drow twins. If you interact with the drow twins after the completion of the Cazador questline, he is outright giddy at the prospect of interacting with the Drow twins. Specifically stating that he is excited to see how he likes these sorts of things now that he's free.

NOW- I do NOT think that he enjoys the act. The game makes that abundantly clear, and I'm not arguing that he has a great time. He obviously does not, and dissociates during it. That being said, allowing this interaction to happen does not make a player evil or selfish. You are not playing the hero if you decide to moderate his choices just because you do not think he is ready for it. Once again, no one is evil for Not doing it either, and I am not saying anybody has to want to. I am just saying that treating this choice like it is an evil choice to make relies on completely disregarding what He wants to do.

Astarion says so many times in the game that he is anxious about finally having the freedom to find out what he wants to do, and I think that his excitement for the drow twin exchange is one of the opportunities the game gives him to make a choice. He makes that choice- And it sucks for him. He doesn't enjoy the act, and having done it he would be able to move forward knowing that. I think it's really cool and important that the game represents that facet of recovering as a victim. While you are trying to renavigate who you are, you are going to make a million new choices you never had before. And sometimes those choices are going to suck ass. It would be a different matter if he knew these things would hurt him and went ahead and did them anyway. But so many people expect him to move forward avoiding even the Potential of being hurt, and I think that is extremely reductive of his arc and who he is.

Beyond the matter of interpersonal relationships, the choice between Ascending or not Ascending Astarion is not a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils. It is a choice between his fear and his humanity. Between letting his trauma and his fear define him for the rest of his immortal life, and allowing him the vulnerability of deciding who he is when he isn't running from the world. When he's willing to listen to the parts of himself that want to do right, that wants meaningful connection, that wants to be proud of himself. That wants to meet himself. To confront who he is when someone else isn't deciding that for him.

Astarion as a character is extremely ambitious, inquisitive, and adventurous, three traits that only become more and more evident as he breaks free from letting his own fear dictate how he lives his life. I don't understand how so many people can see him and want to take the core of his character away from him, when he spends the entire game fighting desperately to take it back.

Victims are not casts of the abuse they have gone through. Their shapes may be changed by the hands of others, they may have to relearn how to be the person they want to be. But they are not broken or irreparable or fragile. They do not need to be freed from the grip of one person to be held tight in the grip of another. It is so fucking unfair and self-important to think that your hands will be the ones that fix them. That your hands know better than theirs. I think the kindest thing you can do for a person is to trust them with themselves, and to listen when they tell you who they are and what they want. Please listen to the voices that have only just learned to speak. It is the only way they can get better at doing it.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #I know this is kind of overdramatic #but like pls pls pls pls #ask yourself why you feel the need to protect victims from the experience of growth #and then consider if that attitude is a fair or helpful one #because freedom includes the right to make choices. even stupid painful ones.#that being said this essay is more for people who played the game exclusively making choices they thought would make astarion comfortable #like ascending him or not participating in polyamory #this essay is NOT for people who just ascended him for dom dialogue with him #bc I think it is a bit silly to tell people who wanted a toxic make him worse dynamic #that they are enabiling toxicity and making him worse #this is just an alternative pov for people who genuinely think it is for the best to do these things

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peachesofteal · 9 months

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PEACH i’m humblingly asking for more omegaverse dead disco, maybe hearing some more thoughts from ghost and johnny about darling’s heat? perhaps they managed to get you to rest (as they’re both still incredibly sensitive) and as they’re talking about what to do, they witness even more self soothing behaviors from darling in your sleep, like they aren’t even there.

i usually don’t particularly read omegaverse, but the way you wrote it??? AGHHHHH I LOVE IT

So, I don’t usually dabble in omegaverse either, this is the first time I’ve actually started to put words down for it (except for a little fic I’ve been plucking away at) so it’s a little intimidating but also fun! I find it very self indulgent but hey, that’s why I’m here. 🩵

I live for your ideas they’re always sooooo good. Takes place after this.

Johnny closes the door behind him, ensuring it clicks shut, but keeping it quiet enough that it won’t wake you.

They don’t need it to open to listen for you, your scent alone will tell them everything they need to know.

“She’s asleep. Finally.” His head droops forward, into Simon’s chest as the bigger Alpha rubs his back gently. They managed to lull you into a heat hazed sleep, both of them emitting enough pheromones to break through your hormone addled state, reassuring you it was safe enough for you to lay in the bed.

“No- no.” Simon strips his hoodie off and places it on the bed, followed by his t shirt and then Johnny’s as they coax you towards the mattress.

“Yes, darling. It’s okay. This is our bed, it’s your bed.” He holds out your own long sleeve t shirt, trying to jog your awareness with your own scent. Your temperature has gone down since they got home, regulated by their ability to relax you, scent you, but it’s evident you haven’t slept in days. You don’t have the strength to manage a cycle right now, and their priority is your health.

The rest has to wait.

“It’s- it’s not safe.” Your eyes dart around and Simon tightens his grip on the back of your neck, just enough to help settle you into to an calmer state, while Johnny eases you onto your side slowly.

“You’re safe. We’re right here. You’re in your nest, at home.” Fat tears pool at your eyelids and then roll down your cheeks while you grab for them, trying to press yourself as close as possible.

“A-alpha.” You whimper and Johnny’s heart chips. How long had you been here, crying for them? Alone?

“Shhh.” He hums, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Simon keeps his chest to your back, steady and soothing subharmonics rattling through the three of you. “Close your eyes, darling. Rest.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Omegas to experience feelings of distress and anxiety during a heat or before, and considering the depth of your emotions on a regular day, it didn’t surprise Johnny or Simon that these heat standard emotions were affecting you so strongly.

But for you to be trying to self soothe, scent yourself, was enough to make them both very, very concerned.

It makes them wonder if there are other things about you, that maybe they don’t know.

“She won’t be down for long.” Simon murmurs into Johnny’s overgrown mohawk, and he nods. When you wake, he knows it will be to unbearable agony, and he dreads those moments when you’ll be upset and in pain.

“Need to go to the grocery store.” He grunts, and pulls away to peer into the fridge, worrying his lip between his teeth as he stares at it’s sparse contents. You haven’t been eating. Anxiety roils his stomach, and Simon rumbles a bit to calm him. You’ll need food, and lots of it, fresh fruit and vegetables, protein. Enough to water and juice to sink a ship, too. It’s been a long time since either of them have experienced an Omega’s heat, and it being yours, makes it all that more intense. Precarious. Precious.

They always dreamed of sharing your heat with you, used to whisper about it to one another during their ruts, dreaming about you, wishing you were with them.

But you were insistent about the suppressants. Stubborn about them. You said you needed the drugs, that you couldn’t handle your heats, that you didn’t want them. That you didn’t want to be controlled by your designation.

And they believed you. They didn’t want to push you, make it seem like they were engaging in overbearing Alpha behavior. They loved you no matter your designation. With heats, or no heats.

“Why did she lie?” Simon questions aloud, staring off at the door. His face is grim, and Johnny shakes his head.

“Dinnae ken.”

“I think… there are a lot of things, we don’t know.” He pauses, and then a look of heartbreak filters across his face. “This… this is my fault. I should have been paying closer attention. I shouldn’t have pushed away my instincts, should’ve taken control.” Johnny’s about to disagree when there’s a spike in your scent, waves of sour tinged distress and confusion pulsing from the bedroom.

You’re curled on the bed, shaking against the sheets, a pillow tucked between your knees and-

Your wrist is rubbing against the gland in your neck, again.

Trying to scent yourself, soothe yourself. Even though you’re laying in a pile of their clothes, even though Simon’s balaclava is twisted around your forearm.

Johnny feels sick.

Why don’t you recognize your own partners? Why are you emulating abused, abandoned Omega behaviors?

Why does it feel like you’re on an island somewhere, where they can’t reach you?

“Darling.” Simon coos, and then starts to break down the tense lines of your body, your muscles, encouraging you to lay flat while you whimper and squeak in your fitful sleep.

They shouldn’t have left you alone.

You curl up against the bigger Alpha, but your wrist finds the gland again, and Simon catches it in his hand, pressing a finger to your palm in circular movements.

“No, no baby.” He holds your hand steady, and you twitch against him, lashes fluttering. Johnny molds himself onto the other side, and replaces your movements with his own, pushing out as many calming pheromones as possible, letting his lips press to your hair, your ear, the soft skin of your neck.

Minutes pass, and Simon holds your wrists firm. You twist and pull against him but they hold you steady between their bodies, gentling you as much as they can until your eyes are blinking awake and you’re wincing in pain.

“I don’t feel good.” You moan, and he hums, wide palm sliding over your belly to tuck you closer.

“I know darling, I know. We’re going to make it better, I promise.”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au

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cu7ie · 1 year

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what do you think toman boys are like in relationships like loyal or nah

content: discussions of cheating, general relationship head canons and love language discussion towards the end.

I think Mikey doesn't cheat because he's lazy. The kinds of relationships he likes are ones of great emotional depth and the actual physical steps required to find someone suitable, hide it from you or eventually break it off is too much. Doesn't have the mental capacity for that level of espionage, the emotional strength to lie to someone's face like that. Toman Mikey does not have that dog in him, Draken has taught him too well. Bonten Mikey has no problem fucking other people however! Not a sad thought in his mind or tear in his eye, might even think about you while he's going at it and wonder if you'd notice the taste of someone else on his lips when he gets back to ya. Sanzu seems like a hopeless romantic with obsessive and possessive tendencies. I don't think he'd cheat but he also has high expectations and probably strict rules for a partner. Doesn't like overly friendly touches and certain attitudes.

Respectfully, I think Bonten Sanzu fucks other people and will laugh in your face about it. But his inclination to do it more rests solely on the idea of it bothering you; he likes making you upset and to some extent grows irritated with the idea he's so invested in you emotionally that a chunk of his pleasure is derived with tormenting you in such a way, but it's a vicious cycle... He finds a soft body to indulge in, but can't help but think of you while doing it.

Nahoya fucks man. I mean.. like I don't think he really pursues concrete relationships in the first place. He likes something ambiguous he can't put a name to, the fun of it is the attention, you know? It's the assurance of something he can come back to, because if nothing ever starts it can't end.

Souya is the complete opposite of his brother. Sometimes he can put in a lot of faith in little time, and he can turn up with the shit of the stick right - and it's the worst, because he can't help but be so genuine. He's just not a liar, doesn't have it in him really.

I think Draken is very loyal. I don't think he'd cheat like cheating on Emma with you or vice versa.

He's very reliable, he's sticking around just because he thinks it's the proper thing to do. Even if he was in love with someone else entirely, if he has an obligation to a partner he will honor that first and foremost.

I think that Baji is… questionable? It's not emotional cheating he'd participate in, I just feel like he's a simple-minded, high sex drive kinda guy. He'll feel... bad about hurting you so much, but also has trouble comprehending why it might hurt. He loves you, isn't that more important? If you don't care that he has sex with other people, y'all should be cool.

Kazutora is possessive above all. I think he considers you less and more about how he needs to keep you close to him more, and he really does like you, just works harder and not smarter.

I think takemitchy is very loyal.. but idk .... I feel like ....

He's only loyal to Hina because she's the only girl interested in him. I feel like if he had Catherine situation - like there was a girl trying to seduce him away from Hina, he'd eat some shit like that up. He's brainless. Not entirely a dick-thinker but he doesn't always use the right head you know???

Mitsuya and Chifuyu are pretty straight laced. Their dedication to people is obvious in canon relationships and I don't think much changes beyond that! I think they differ in their demonstrations of affection, however:

Mitsuya performs acts of service and is a huge gift giver, especially after he gets into design and fashion in his later years. Too often though, sometimes he can neglect a good old fashioned 'i love you' in favor of grandeur and extravagance. He hopes that in any case, you'll love the things he gives you - knowing he didn't get gifts a lot growing up, it's more important to him than you'd think.

Chifuyu is an opposite to him. He is very open with saying I love you to the point where he'll say it in front of other people and follow it up with a kiss (or six), and most regularly he can be overbearing with his PDA - forgoing gifts to emphasize spending time with you and physically being there for you.

#tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #sanzu x reader #nahoya x reader #souya x reader #takemitchi x reader #mitsuya x reader #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revenger headcanons #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

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yanderes-galore · 6 days

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Will you be willing to write a yandere concept for geto suguru from jjk with a sorcerer reader? I can't see him with a non-sorcerer reader.

Sure. He could technically be with either, but the dynamic is WAY different.

Yandere! Suguru Geto with Sorcerer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Genocidal views, Condescending behavior, Blood, Murder, Attempted brainwashing, Kidnapping, Psychological warfare, Degrading behavior, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship/relationship.

Compared to regular humans, Geto is very polite and caring towards his fellow Sorcerers and Curse Users.

Safe to say that his obsession being a Sorcerer or Curse User is the most common obsession he'd have once he's a Curse User.

Even more so if you're someone he knew before defecting.

You don't necessarily have to believe in his cause, he could care less as long as he has you.

Geto would feel you both are the superior race compared to normal humans.

He'd probably view you as family in some way like he does his commanders.

I will say this though, Geto is really fake.

Manipulation and fake personas are something he uses to get others to trust him often.

He knows the values of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

You like to protect the weak, which is the reason he prefers Curse Users.

You have such naive views in his eyes.

He's tossed away such views years ago.

Poor you... trying to get in his way like the rest of the Sorcerers?

I imagine Geto has some respect for you but believes your allegiance is misplaced.

This may also work better if he knew you along with Gojo.

Maybe you three were friends up until the Star Plasma Vessel incident.

You no doubt sensed Geto's change in demeanor but he always hid it from you.

He cared for you in his own way, just like he did with Gojo.

But you were too oblivious to the truth in his eyes...

Don't you know the world would be better off if Curses didn't exist and people could live life without them?

If Geto told you of such a thought, you might even agree with him.

Until he started committing massacres.

To see your friend go down such a path is... tragic.

You stayed with Gojo, even if Geto tried to convince you to stop being so oblivious.

Such a rift left you on poor terms with the Curse User.

Oh, he still adores his beloved companion and friend...

He just hates that you decided to protect the monkeys rather than cull them.

It's a shame, really....

You have such potential.

Geto would probably not kill you for a couple reasons.

One, he most likely either knew you before or sees you as a possible student.

Two, he doesn't want to waste your potential.

Meaning Geto would focus on isolation and capture more than killing you.

If anything, he'd want to give you a chance at change.

You can help him break the cycle... you just need to learn how to kill non-sorcerers.

Due to how charismatic Geto is with people, he'd try and convert you by force.

Now, now, don't fight him.

Fighting him will only make things harder for yourself.

I can see Geto doing everything in his power to break you down.

I'm talking things like kidnapping, isolation, degradation, all sorts of things to mess with your head and break your resolve.

Geto may even kill non-sorcerers in front of you to show how weak they are, how you couldn't help them even if you tried just like he couldn't....

Geto would take pleasure in this, too.

If you just agreed with him, if you just listened...

You wouldn't have to go through this.

But, no, you want to be all innocent and righteous.

Fine, be that way, he'll make you see his way.

Geto would break you, making you used to all the bloodshed and whispering small words of propaganda and encouragement in your ear... then he'll make you his little puppet.

He's condescending, laughing when you shake at the blood covering your clothes and hands.

This is the real world, dear!

Why not help him remake it?

He stops being condescending and degrading when you break and listen to him.

At that point you're no longer a Sorcerer... you're a Curse User.

Part of Geto's family.

By this point he'd either treat you like a student/successor... or a lover in his cult.

He's so much nicer when he takes the fight out of you.

He plans to reform you, to bring back that fight against normal humans.

There's no need to cry... he'll comfort you once you transition over.

Sorcerer principles are so weak.

Once you drop them, Geto greets you with open arms.

If you're a student, he welcomes you as his newest successor... ready to be trained with a new mindset.

If you're someone he knew years ago, he greets his old friend with open arms.

He knew you'd eventually come to him.

You just needed some convincing.

Geto's possessive once he converts you by force.

His pet monkeys aren't allowed to touch you and you're never out of his sight.

You're important to him, which is ironic as this is the man who would shatter your mind just to keep you.

Your abilities are soon used for his motives.

Soon enough you're forced to depend on Geto.

He makes you feel like you need him with his words and manipulation.

Soon you'll forget all about being a Sorcerer.

Surely you realize Geto knows best and wants to see you improve, right?

Soon you won't even want to leave his arms ever again... trapped and lulled in by his venomous words.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere geto #yandere suguru geto

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politemenacephd · 6 months

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Arachnophilia (Part Three)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Contents (part three): Mating cycles, rutting, P in V sex, monster/human relationship, breeding kink, oral (reader recieving).

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Word count: 6836 notes: smut starts now pls enjoy lol

You didn’t tell Miguel about his variant, nor did you tell anyone else.

You didn’t know exactly why Miguel didn’t like him. Mig had suggested that it was some territorial display, but that seemed hard to believe. You supposed you would just have to live with the curiosity. You knew that any questions you asked Miguel would result in getting stonewalled, or worse, may lead to them finding out you’d broken a direct order.

So you kept your visits secret, and you kept them frequent, because in truth you liked this Miguel a lot. You certainly liked him more than anyone in the HQ. Not to say you disliked your other colleagues, but you enjoyed your time with him in a way you never had with them.

Miguel was strangely sweet. He was incredibly awkward, clearly lacking much social interaction since his unfortunate splicing incident, but he did his best to be kind and accommodating.

You spent full days when not on call just hanging around in the glade with him. At first you just talked, but over time you started getting up to more.

He took you on trips to the top of the forest where you could see the stars, even letting you ride on his back when you got tired. You sat beneath silk shields while it rained and dozed off at his side. You helped brush out the abdomen fur he couldn’t reach, and he in return helped massage your wrists when they got sore from webbing.

You brought him food and tech for him to experiment on, and he in turn brought you little items made of his silk. One time you mentioned that you’d run out of socks so he knitted you a pair, and another time he patched up your suit for free. He always said you attention was payment enough.

You’d started calling him Migs, and he’d started calling you ‘arañita’ as a show of friendship.

You were quickly falling head over heels for the man. He was undeniably handsome and just so attentive to you in ways no one else had ever been, it was hard not to crave him.

Today you were prepped to leave as usual. You hadn’t been called for any missions and you could see your superiors were also free, meaning they’d definitely get picked first if anything happened, making today a sure write-off.

In a quiet corridor you began inputting the location of Mig’s universe. You weren’t expecting anyone to come by here, but you were very unlucky.

‘What are you doing?’

You jumped as a man’s voice barked behind you. That voice was uncannily familiar now.

‘A-Ah, boss, hey!’

You spun to find Miguel staring down at you with his usual sour expression, his lips pursed and brows knotted. Nowadays he always seemed bothered by something. You offered him a polite smile.

‘Is- is everything okay, or—’

‘What are you doing?’

His bark of an order made you freeze. God, he was so different to your Mig. Spider Miguel almost never raised his voice. He was quiet, stoic, awkward but trying his best to be empathetic. This Miguel seemed so tightly wound in comparison.

‘I- I’m just, going home’ you said, shiftily hiding your watch. Miguel narrowed his eyes.

‘Why are you up here?’

‘I’m just… I’m just, getting out of the way so I can send a few messages before going’ you said, your politeness beginning to slip. You didn’t appreciate his prying.

He took a step closer, boxing you into the corner. You felt so small in his presence.

Then, to your confusion, he closed his eyes and breathed. It wasn’t normal breathing though, oh no, this was deep. It was long, drawn out, deliberate. Was he, smelling? Was he smelling you?

When he opened his eyes again, they were burning red, their light reflecting onto your cheek.

For just a brief moment your gut knotted with anxiety. Why wasn’t he moving? What was he going to do? You realized that in your attempt to be alone you’d wound up in a corridor corner with no other spiders around. How had he even known you were here? Was he following you?

‘Hmm.’

To your relief, Miguel grunted and withdrew. He looked even more tightly wound than before. ‘Just- be, safe’ he mumbled, and without another word he stormed away. His body looked rigid.

You wasted no time in drawing up a portal the second he was gone.

On the other side it was a beautiful evening, with the sky above radiating soft, deep shades of indigo and red. You hurried into the forest with just the light of your watch to guide your way.

You tried your best to forget Miguel as you followed the usual landmarks to Mig. The mushroom patch by the dead stump, the little winding brook you had to jump across, the patch of stones which you’d stacked to look like a tiny house.

Why was Miguel acting so weird? He’d never paid attention to you before. You’d felt like a fly in his space, an annoying gnat he was trying to push off onto anyone else, so to have him cornering and questioning you was absurd.

What had changed? Did he somehow know you were visiting his variant?

You frowned at that thought. Jesus, you weren’t a child. You didn’t have to obey him, this was your private, personal matter. Mig was your friend. You had a right to see him.

At last you entered the big clearing where you and Mig usually met to hang out. You were surprised to see he wasn’t there.

‘Mig?’

You called his name and kicked a few stones around. Where was he? You cried his name again and spun in a circle. ‘MIG! Mig!’

A soft, sweet breath suddenly hit your nape. You froze up.

You could feel his shadow at your back. You could feel the weight of his body, the brush of his breath. You could see the little hint that his eyes were close, as tiny, reflected shards of red light began to dance over your shoulder.

You grinned and spun around, wrapping your arms around his waist. You squeezed in tight to that familiar body.

‘Mig! You—ARGH!’

With a groan your body was smooshed into the dirt. His entire monstrous form came down on your frail chest, pinning you to the ground. His clawed human hands found your wrists and your throat, holding them in place, as his abdomen came down on your lower torso. He rustled slightly against you as you wheezed.

‘M-Mig?’ you croaked.

Your eyes met. His were burning red, almost bloodshot, wide and dilated. He panted on your face, his fangs bared. He hissed.

‘You… You…’

He panted those words a few times. He was shaking, you realized, like he was holding something back at great physical expense. After a moments silence he grunted and physically forced himself off.

‘Mierda- mierda, ah- I’m so sorry, arañita, I’m- so sorry.’

You shuffled into a sitting position. ‘Mig? What- are you okay?’

‘You need to go’ he insisted. He was pacing wildly now, drifting closer to you before hurrying back. It was like some invisible force was driving him back to your body.

It was only then that it clicked. The tension in his body, the heavy breathing, the dilated pupils and twitching abdomen. Your spider senses picked it up quickly once the panic died down.

‘Oh, you’re—’

He was rutting. Of course he was, you thought, as your face burned up with embarrassment. He was a spider after all. He was in breeding mode, and your presence must be an unbearable distraction.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t- want to conduct myself, poorly’ he grunted.

‘No, it’s okay- you, I mean you’re doing fine! I get it, it’s not your fault, you’re- you’re you, I get it. I can um- I mean is there anything I can do? To help? I could—’

You tried to take a step forward, hoping to comfort him by taking his foreleg paw, but he pulled away. He’d never pulled away from you before.

‘No, that’s not- you, you’re making it worse’ he blurted.

Instinctively you frowned. ‘I’m- what do you mean I’m making it worse? I’m not, trying to—’

‘I’m sorry’ he blurted again, his hands raised. ‘I’m sorry, arañita, you- mm, fuck—’ He paused to scrape his claws down his face. They didn’t break the skin but it was clear he was trying to claw back some control. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right. You haven’t done anything. It’s not your fault, but you—’

He put his hand to his mouth, his eyes turning to the side. He looked horribly embarrassed.

‘You, you’re…’

‘I’m, what?’

He rubbed his jaw and groaned a little, as if it was painful to admit. ‘You- you’re in heat’ he hissed.

You blinked at him, too shocked to reply right away. ‘I… I’m, wh- I’m what?’

‘You’re in heat, arañita’ Miguel repeated through gritted teeth. ‘You’re- ovulating. I can smell it. The- you’re letting off, pheromones, and it’s…’

‘It’s setting you off’ you said, your voice wheezing as you said it. Miguel gave a mortified nod. Now both too embarrassed to face each other you turned and stared into the forest, your arms tightly folded as if they would hold you together.

‘I’m sorry, Mig, I didn’t—’

‘You have nothing to be sorry about’ Miguel insisted. You began tapping your foot.

‘You- I would have understood, Mig. I DO understand. You could have told me.’

‘You’re my friend’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t want to make things weird, but I can’t… God, you smell so, good—’ Your heart thudded a little harder as Miguel turned in a circle, trying to hide his arousal.

‘I’m a pervert’ he hissed. ‘I’m a- filthy, pervert—’

‘What? No, you’re—’

‘I can’t lie.’

You paused at Miguel’s aggressive interruption. You could see his claws were out, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain this polite conversation.

‘I can’t- lie, even if I wanted to. It’s not in my nature. So listen to me. Listen to me clearly.’

You slowly nodded and settled down on the earth, bidding him to continue. He swallowed hard. It was clearly hard for him to get out, but as another breeze blew your scent into his nose something primal overtook him.

‘All I can think about, is breeding with you’ he rasped. ‘I want you to have my babies, arañita. All I want to do is just- tear through those clothes, and taste your pussy, and web you down so I can penetrate you. I want to- feel you, from the inside. I want to fill your tight little cunt with my seed and plug you so no one else can have you. I want my genes in you so much it hurts.’

You felt your face getting warmer with each word. You were a little offput by the feel of your own clit throbbing in response to his fantasy.

‘If you stay, I won’t have any control. My- urge, is burning me up. So, please…’

With a soft whine he shuffled again, trying his best to not get erect as your dizzying scent filled his nose. You watched as he tried to turn away.

He was giving you the chance to leave. You could go, now, and presumably return when his rut had died down and your ovulation had ended. You could go and pretend this never happened.

That’s what he was offering. But, is that what you wanted?

Part of you was afraid. You didn’t know what would happen if you stayed, and yet, another part of you was deeply curious, and that part was being fed by your fear. You didn’t want to admit it, but the fear aroused you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Instead, you began to tread the waters of this strange, unbroached pool, coaxing a little more.

‘Why me?’

He turned at your question. It was clear that it was getting harder for him to resist the urge.

‘Is it, just- I’m close by and I’m in heat, so… You know, I’m just- convenient?’

‘No. No, arañita. You’re- perfect’ he murmured, his voice dipping into a slight moan. He seemed like he was on a hair trigger, physically straining under the weight of his own lust.

‘You’re in heat, yes, but it’s more than that. I like you, you’re- kind, and powerful, and thoughtful. You have spider genes, like me, so- we’re genetically compatible. And you’re- you’re, so, small.’ He whined on the word small, like it did something extra perverse to him. ‘Small, safe, strong, beautiful. Unbred.’

He crept a little closer and you sank into the floor, letting his body overshadow your own. He was shaking with intensity, crawling on his belly like a dog begging for scraps.

‘You’re too perfect, you are- priceless. Mi tesoro. I would do anything to have you. Which is why…. Please, I can’t—’

He turned again and physically bit his lip. You could feel his tension like a force, as if just his desire to grab you was manifesting in the air.

And yet, still, you refused to leave.

You couldn’t help it, something about him enticed you. Perhaps you were sensing his hormonal changes as well, and it was swaying some deep and primal part of your mind. Perhaps you were just horny.

But god, you were a pervert too. The idea of that massive man in all his monstrous glory holding you down and taking you in the dirt was so incredibly arousing.

And it’s not like you weren’t attracted to him outside of that. He wasn’t a normal man, but he was ruggedly handsome. You liked his face. You liked his chiselled jaw and open, honest eyes. You liked his thick, stocky, muscular body.

There was an allure to him, one you were quickly realizing might just be enough to make you stay.

You remained seated in the dirt beneath him, and gradually he began to turn back. His eyes widened. You hadn’t left.

‘Are, you—’

‘I can… at least, relieve some of that tension, maybe. If you wanted’ you murmured.

He moved closer on instinct. You could sense the tension in his body as his spider legs tapped back and forth. He was holding back the urge to do something. Web you down? Grab you? All those ideas excited you.

‘I would be a good mate’ he whispered as he bent down towards you. His legs folded so his torso could find yours, his clawed hands cupping your face. ‘I’m strong. I’m fit. I have good genes. Our babies would be well cared for.’

You knew his hormones were compelling him to speak. You didn’t know how to say that none of that stuff bothered you, that all you cared about was letting this ruggedly handsome beast rail you into the dirt until you couldn’t feel your legs.

‘Can- I mean, can we, actually… Are we compatible?’ you whispered.

‘I have some- adaptations, but, yes. I can attach the genetic package to my pedipalps and transfer, or…’ Almost shyly he moved upward, showing off his abdomen. ‘As a partial human, I could… May I show you?’

You gave a quick nod. He looked a little embarrassed at first, but in the heat of the moment he caved.

A small slit widened on the abdomen beneath his torso, right between his two smaller forelegs. The black and red fur parted to reveal an erect phallus. It was red with black veins, long with a slight curve and a thick point at the end.

‘With you, I can just… transfer directly.’

You felt your whole body throb at the sight. Without thinking your hand drifted forward, measuring his erection with your fingers and palm. You almost choked; he was huge. You wrapped your fist around the thick, girthy, veiny shaft and gave it a soft stroke.

‘Ah- mi arañita—’

Miguel’s lips fell apart at your sudden touch. His whole body shuddered and jolted, trying to push it into your hand. You gave in to your own throbbing clit and gingerly gave it a lick.

‘A-Ah-! F-F-Fuck—’ His mouth widened with a mixture of shock and excitement, as the brush of your tongue caused his fangs to flex and involuntarily squirt venom down his jaw.

His whole body shivered with excitement as his phallus throbbed in your hand, precum pooling from the tip. You tasted a bit of that too; it was strangely sweet.

‘Okay, okay- careful, arañita, I don’t- I’ll ravage you if you keep this up. I don’t want to hurt you. Let- let me do you, instead’ he whined.

‘Do, me? How—’

You squeaked as he tripped you, causing your body to fall into his outstretched human arms. With his spider legs he began to draw a line of silk, carefully knitting a kind of sticky hammock for your body to lay on top of. He dropped you into it the second he was done.

‘Come here, mi cariño.’

He bent until his human half was against your belly, his lips kissing from your navel to your inner thigh. You shuffled on the web but its light, sticky coating kept you stuck on your back.

He cupped your lower back in his clawed hand, drawing you up. With your legs now on either side of his head, he buried his face into your clothed pussy.

‘Mm…’

He breathed in deep, letting those sweet pheromones only he could smell fill his brain. His erect phallus throbbed.

‘You- smell so good.’

With his fangs he grabbed and tore a chunk of your suit aside, revealing your panties underneath.

‘H-Hey--!’

In his ravenous, pussy drunk state he didn’t even wait to remove them. He wound his tongue under the fabric and snuck a taste of your clit, eagerly lapping at the sensitive folds beneath. Your body shuddered with pleasure.

‘F-Fuck- careful, ah-‘

‘Need—more—’

With a hiss he pulled back. He allowed his claws to slice your suit from crotch to neck, splitting it open. In seconds your whole naked body was on display.

‘H-Hey, woah! I need that!’

‘I need you- please, fuck—’

His whole body shifted closer as he began to ravage every part of you he could get at. You felt his clawed hands squeezing and pinching your belly and waist as his lips caressed your chest, eagerly sucking on and biting at your nipples.

He ran a line of kisses down your body to your thighs. There, with one final, guttural growl, he tore your panties aside. You felt him breath in your scent. One deep breath in and one deep, hot breath out, one that caused your hips to squirm at the sensitivity.

‘Mine.’

With that final word he buried his face into your cunt. You let out a breathy scream, one that was quickly drowned by the empty forest. No one would hear you here but him.

Miguel continued to let out muffled groans as he sucked on your clit. He settled with his nose gently bumping the tip of your lips as he lapped at that sensitive nub, his head bobbing with each hard movement as he savoured the taste.

You were embarrassed at how quickly he managed to hit your spot. Your body was already hot and tight from just the thought of this, but the taboo of letting this monster touch you like this in the open forest was making you so much hotter.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You had no idea what he could do to you, but that made it so much better.

Your skin was flushed, beading with sweat, and your clit was swollen to the point that it hurt. It was throbbing with a carnal need to be pleasured, and right now his tongue was doing a heavenly job of easing that ache. Now trapped in his web with his lips on your cunt, his gorgeous face perfectly framed between your thighs, your climax was inevitable. It rose up like a wildfire.

‘Migual- fuck, I’m gonna—’

With a soul-shattering shudder you came on his tongue. Your hips bucked with each flood of pleasure, your body jolting against your will. Your mouth fell open and a low, desperate moan left your lips, all while Miguel continued to suck on your clit.

‘Oh, fuck—fuck you’re so, good, y-you’re so good Mig, fuck…!’

Soon your body was lulling in that post-cum exhaustion, your chest heaving as you panted. You expected to have some time to recollect yourself, but Miguel had other ideas. He wiped his jaw clean of your gushing slick and pulled himself up to leer over your body. He looked utterly intoxicated, practically high off your body.

A low, grating noise left his throat as he put his left hand on your wrists, pinning them together, while his right hand went down to your soaked slit.

You didn’t see his hand enter you, but you felt it. You let out a raspy moan as one of his thick fingers penetrated your untouched hole, followed by a mewling whine as his thumb hit your overstimulated clit. He bit his lower lip as you squirmed on his hand.

‘That’s it’ he murmured, his voice husky. ‘One more for me, please. I need to- I need to make sure you’re ready for me.’

He started with one finger but soon moved to two, then finally pushing you to three. His fingers were rough and calloused from living in the forest, and you felt them very clearly as they began to squish in and out of your body.

Between the hard thrusts of his fingers and his thumb gently stroking your spot, not to mention the terrifyingly arousing image of his half spider body leering down over your head, you quickly shuddered into your second climax.

‘Good, arañita’ he praised, practically breathless as he watched you mewl and whine and spasm on his hand. His cock twitched again with anticipation. ‘Good, good arañita. Thank you.’

Miguel carefully slipped his hand aside, greedily licking your juices from his claws. You were utterly drained, your body limp at his feet.

He narrowed his eyes. You were in the perfect state.

With careful movements Miguel bent down until his hands could find yours. He interlocked your fingers together and pressed his lips to your own, and even in your dizzy state you managed to return the kiss.

The distraction of his lips allowed him to carefully pull away the rest of your tattered suit with his spider legs, leaving you fully naked. When the cold air hit your skin he parted his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth to further distract you. You eagerly gave in.

‘Mm- Miguel—’

His name was muffled on your lips by his own tongue as he moved to lift you into his arms. He broke the kiss once you were fully supported in his grip, allowing a long line of saliva to hang between you. He panted, hard, and licked your spit into his mouth before licking his fangs.

‘Now, mi arañita, may I have the honor of mating with you?’ he begged.

You gave a shaky, sleepy nod. ‘Y-Yes, please. Please.’

Miguel didn’t waste any time. He knew this was his one chance, and his primal spider senses were hounding him to consummate. With your body limp in his arms he crept towards one of the larger pines.

‘Shh, careful. I’m- going to put you up here, it’ll make it easier for your bodies to fit together’ he soothed. You just moaned.

Miguel held you with utmost care as he started to spin new webs, this time using them to carefully stick your body in place against the tree. He webbed your waist and belly in place before webbing your legs on either side of the trunk, keeping them spread, and at last finished by webbing your wrists together above your head.

The subtle binding was another part of his instinctual ritual. It was supposed to keep you calm. In truth, as you stirred in his web, it just excited you more.

Now bound and naked against the enormous oak you shuffled in the web, testing its strength. It held firm. It was sticky on your skin, warm and sinewy on the flesh, tight but not constrictive.

You could squirm, yes, but you couldn’t break free, and most importantly your legs were stuck in their separated position. You were shamelessly spread wide, and the cold air on your drenched sex was sending chills up your spine. Your hole clenched around nothing.

‘F-Fuck, ah- okay, okay—’

You glanced down and watched as Miguel began to climb the tree. He mounted you with absolute care, keeping his human torso close to yours as his spider body curled between your spread legs.

‘That’s it. I’ll be gentle’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be- careful, just- please, let me fuck you.’

You bit your lip as he pushed up. You could feel his phallus twitching for attention as his breath hit your forehead. You could tell even just from the tip nudging at you, desperately probing your slit, that he was going to split you open.

‘Ah- Miguel—’

He nestled into your hair, breathing in your scent. ‘This- might hurt a bit, but, I will be gentle. Just try to relax.’

‘F-Fuck—’

Your breath came short as he started to slip inside you.

His phallus was huge, smooth but huge, and his entrance was a struggle. He had to pump it carefully to get it deeper. Your slick was helping him loosen you up but even at your most aroused it was barely enough, and he was forced to nudge at your cunt to make it stretch for his girth.

He grit his teeth to stop himself pushing you too far. ‘Come on- come on, let me- in, please—’

After a good few pumps and a few squirms from you, he finally fit. He was inside you. You winced as he bottomed out.

‘F-Fuck, Mig you’re- huge—’

‘Ah… ah, that’s it. That’s it. You’re mine now, arañita. It’s done. It’s over.’

You were stuffed to the point of being immobile. Every little motion you did made you painfully aware of his cock inside you, throbbing and compressing on every inch of your insides.

You stole a shaky glance down, and realized with both horror and arousal that there was a bulge in your belly where’d he’d pushed in.

Miguel groaned and dug his claws into the bark on either side of your head. He must have sensed your discomfort as he quickly moved to keeping you distracted.

‘Mi hermosa arañita’ he praised, his lips brushing your forehead. ‘You feel- delicious.’

As he showered you in kisses and praise, he started to rut between your legs. His entire, enormous abdomen began to jerk back and forth, sliding his phallus in and out.

‘That’s it, just take it. You’re taking it so well.’

‘Fuck, fuck- Mig, you- feel so, good—’

‘That’s it, you can take it. Mm… Mm… Just let me breed with you, please.’

You lay back as he started to bite at your neck, eagerly nibbling and rolling the flesh between his fangs. You tried to adjust to the sensation.

It was strange, the feel of hot skin against your bare chest mixed with the rough, fluffy flesh of his spider half, both rubbing against your body as he pushed in and out. You could feel him moaning against your skin.

He started to thrust a little harder, drawing almost all the way out before pumping back in. You felt his abdomen smacking against yours with each gruff penetration. A cacophony of sound filled the quiet forest: the smack of skin on skin, the wet sliding squelch of slick and cum, the soft rustling of his spider body and the desperate pants and moans from your joint mouths.

You let out an extra loud moan as his cock began to rib at your g-spot. You clenched him, tight, and he scraped the bark by your head in response.

‘I can’t- believe, I- get to mate with you’ he whined. He seemed rapturous. ‘You’re such a- perfect catch.’

He began to grunt rhythmically with each insertion. You could feel him probing, touching, tasting every inch of your insides. His soft front-legs were pawing at your hips.

‘I would have fought for you’ he hissed. You clenched harder as he nudged at your cervix, right at the same moment his foreleg found its way to your clit. He began to massage that little knub as his thrusting continued.

‘I would have killed males twice my size for you. All for you.’

‘Mig…. Ah—’

You let out a shameless whine as he hit each spot. You were already overstimulated from cumming twice, and now his girthy phallus was bullying you from the inside while his sensitive foreleg began to bully your clit.

‘But you’re all mine’ he groaned. ‘You- gave, yourself- to me—’

Your bodies were almost totally glued together at this point, with sweat and webbing connecting you by the skin. His hot, sweaty abs and pecs were squished against your chest and belly, each moving in unison as he fucked you into submission.

You rasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure as he started to get rough. He bared his fangs against your cheek in a territorial display.

‘My mate. Mi tesoro. Mi arañita. Mine.’

Between the wet slip of his cock and the soft massaging of your clit, you could feel a third orgasm rising. It felt so much more intense like this. You kept tensing and twitching, your muscles squeezing him tight, allowing you to feel every single veiny inch of his shaft.

He must have noticed you getting close as he started to whine, begging and nestling himself into your hair like he was pleading for your favor.

‘Cum for me’ he groaned. ‘I want to feel it. Please. Ah—cum on my cock, please.’

He started to speed up as if he could force it out of you. Somehow, he was right.

With an exhausted shudder you climaxed for the third time. You screamed for this one, as your mind went blank the moment those orgasmic spasms rippled through your body. It was so much more intense while being fucked. You felt his cock nudging each violent burst of pleasure from inside you, and his self-satisfied whines against your head just added to your gratification.

‘Thank you, thank you—’ With each desperate expression of gratitude Miguel gave another sharp thrust.

Your body was a mess at this point, and all you could do was relax into the binding web and let him have you. He continued to hump vigorously towards his own climax.

He could feel it getting close. He could feel the throbbing of his cock increasing, as every hair on his body stood up. His vision was getting spotty. Some deep animal part of his brain took hold and compelled him with one overpowering desire: he had to cum in you. He had to cum now.

‘Okay, just- gotta, feed it through- gently now—’

Miguel grit his teeth as his cock throbbed. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

‘I’m- going to cum in you now, okay? Just, a-ah- stay still. This will probably feel, strange—’

You squirmed in the bindings as he started to pump harder. He was erratic, rough, utterly drunk on his own primal desires.

‘Just like that, just- take it gently—’

And then, you felt it. He orgasmed abruptly inside you with a guttural moan, and bit by bit you felt his cock pulsing that thick seed into your pussy.

It was strange, like he’d warned. Load after load, rope after thick rope, filled the limited space of your insides until it was physically leaking down his shaft. He had to pull back and give shorter, desperate little humps to make room while still filling you with the last of his seed. You moaned through it all.

Slowly the throbs got shorter, less violent, until he’d thrust the last spurt into your opening. The two of you collapsed into a whining, panting mess.

‘Ah… finally. Finally.’

As he slipped out you realized that he’d squirted some kind of web secretion alongside his ejaculate, and your inner thighs was now coated in sticky webbing. You whined at the sight, as did he.

He was fixated on the cum oozing from your body and down your thighs. It was ridiculously thick. He was proud of that, but he couldn’t stand to see it wasted.

Using one of his spider legs he gently scooped up what cum he could and pushed it back inside you. He nudged it deeper, as deep as he could, before shifting his abdomen down and sealing you off with another smearing of web. You were too exhausted to even move.

‘Perfect’ he purred. ‘There. That-that should keep you plugged. Thank you, I can’t- say that enough, thank you.’ He pressed one shaky kiss to your forehead alongside his thanks.

In that post-cum daze you tried to gather your thoughts.

Oh god, what had you done? Had you really just done this? Had sex with a massive spider hybrid, unprotected?

Before you could think about it Miguel had begun cutting you down. He released your body from the thick web, but he didn’t let you go free. Instead, he wrapped you into a thin sheen of silk that acted as a blanket, covering you from the cold, before taking you into his human arms and carrying you down to his den.

It was a slightly uneven oval made of webbing, suspended between two giant pine trees with a small hole for entrance. He slid inside with your body tight to his chest.

‘Here, mi tesoro. You rest. You did so good.’

As you turned to look around you were surprised to find that the room was far warmer inside than its eerie exterior implied. He’d hung little firefly lamps on the walls to give it a soft orange glow, and the floor was covered in crude furniture made from wood and leaves. He had tables, desks, all covered in similar half-finished technology that the other Miguel’s office had, but he also had hand-crafted chairs and shelves adorning his home.

He crawled through the cosy little nest and lay you down on a silk-spun mattress in the corner. You sank into it immediately.

‘Ah… t-thank you’ you mumbled. Miguel just chuckled.

‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve done far more for me.’

You were too busy enjoying the luxurious bed to notice Miguel as he sank down beside you. His weight on the mattress did cause your body to bounce a few inches into the air, but the moment he settled you slid down to nestle against his side.

‘What’d you mean? I- barely did anything’ you asked with a yawn.

He pulled you in close and sighed. ‘You fool’ he murmured affectionately, ‘you gave me everything. I’m not stupid. Mating with me can’t be easy.’

‘Mm… I mean, I thought it was, really easy’ you sleepily chuckled. ‘Almost too easy.’

He gave a little exasperated head shake. Really you could have been saying anything right now and it would have endeared him to you. He already liked you, but now his hormones on top of that were compelling him to protect you, to keep you.

‘Pretty little thing’ he whispered. You didn’t hear.

For an hour or so you drifted in and out of sleep at his side while he kept watch. He guarded your body jealously, like a dragon over treasure, with his dark red eyes solemnly fixed on the door. It was like he was waiting for someone to take you away.

As the sun began to set you finally awoke properly, and realized just how long you’d been absent. You noticed your watch beeping and groaned.

‘Argh… I should probably get back to work, but… I really just want to stay here’ you grumbled. The idea of leaving this place, where you were treated so tenderly as this special little one in a million creature, it was difficult to justify.

To your surprise Miguel bristled when you mentioned leaving, his soft black and red hair standing on end. You felt his claws grip you a little tighter.

‘Ideally, I’m- supposed to keep you here’ Miguel murmured.

‘What? Why?’

‘Can’t have any competition.’

You felt his hands squeezing your flesh as he pulled you close to his abdomen. It was so warm, so strangely fuzzy and soft.

‘I… I assumed that was what the sealing was for.’

Miguel sniffed, his lip curling to reveal one of his fangs. ‘It is. But someone could remove it.’

You let out a sleepy chuckle. ‘Who?’

His eyes narrowed then, his fangs fully bared. ‘Your boss, for example. My, other variation. If you go back, and he smells you, he could… well, like I said, we are territorial. We don’t like competition. He would attempt to clean you of my genes and probably replace them with his own, if he could entice you.’

You blinked in surprise at this revelation. Wait, was that why HQ Miguel kept looking at you strangely? Did he know? Could he, as Miguel here said, smell it?

‘But… I thought, you were rutting because the- I don’t wanna be mean, but um- the splicing? You, being—’

‘He’s just as half-spider as I am’ Miguel grumbled. ‘He just doesn’t look it. But I guarantee he can smell the same as me, he- feels the same urges.’

‘I- Huh. Huh.’

You rolled onto your back to ponder that fact. Mig had always been honest enough, so you believed him that he at least believed the other Miguel would try to entice you too. Did that mean it was actually dangerous to return? Would anyone else smell Mig on you?

Your mind wondered back to the issue of what exactly you’d done here. Was this a mistake? Should you have let this giant spider monster have sex with you?

Now that you were more lucid, the answer was clear. Yes. A thousand times yes.

‘You know, Mig, the- benefit, to being partly human, is I can say very clearly that I don’t want anyone else.’

You felt him bristle with surprise as you spoke.

‘You… you don’t?’

‘Nope.’

‘But- me?’

‘Yeah. You. I like… big.’

The soft arousal in his eyes was palpable. You liked the way his little abdomen twitched and wriggled, almost like a dog shaking its tail.

‘You… You like, me? You liked… it?’

You let your eyelids droop as you pressed against his lower human half, stroking the curves of his pelvic muscles.

‘I like big. I like- rough. I like you.’

His back spider leg did a little stamp against the webbed floor. He was adorably excited by even that small compliment. He bent down to your height while emitting a low purring noise from his throat.

‘Well… most, spiders, ideally try to mate multiple times. If the, partner is willing’ he murmured. You could already hear that the brief respite your copulation had brought was slipping away. His voice had dipped, growing husky and smooth, a sure sign of his hormonal heat returning. You gave a sleepy chuckle.

‘What about the seal?’

‘I’ll remove it’ he purred. ‘I’ll remove it, cum in you again and then seal you back up. Over, and over.’

Just the words caused a soft moan to escape your lips. You curled closer. ‘Mm. You’re lucky I enjoyed it then. Can I at least rest up a bit first, though?’

His eyes were affectionate as he watched you curl into a ball against his fluffy abdomen.

‘Of course, arañita.’ Miguel bent to press his lips to your cheek. ‘Rest all you want. But… I will have you again.’

His soft words and warm breath made you shudder. There was an intensity in those words. ‘I will take you again, and again, until it sticks.’

‘Don’t- don’t you mean, just, until the heat finishes?’

A soft smile spread across his face as his eyelids drooped. ‘No. Because it will stick. There’s no doubt about that. I will get you pregnant.’

You gasped as his teeth suddenly hit your neck, his lips trailing down your naked chest. You felt his full weight as he held you beneath him.

‘I just hope it takes a little longer, so I can enjoy you fully. Mi hermosa arañita.’

Link to part four

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #read on ao3 #smut with plot #smut #drider #miguel o'hara fanfiction #monster human relationship

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astarions-wife · 7 months

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I can’t believe it’s come to the point of analyzing Cazador for all of you, but considering the amount of “Cazador can be redeemed!” And “Cazador x reader” I’ve seen, I feel like i need to make this.

So you feel pity for Cazador because he also suffered at the hands of his master. Good. That’s the point. You should feel something for Cazador, he also suffered abuse, and was dragged into the cycle of it by Vellioth. It’s awful, it’s terrible, but it doesn’t mean he’s redeemable.

Very much so, when Cazador kills Vellioth and chooses to start the cycle of power and abuse over again, he was too far gone. He made the choice, the conscious choice to be the same as his old master. Of course he’s suffering internally, somewhere is the soul of someone who lost everything, and became something awful. However he doesn’t even say he wishes for a reset. He wishes for death. Only in death is he free of the cycle of abuse, for his role in it is too far gone at this point.

“Orin and Gortash have apologists!” They do, but they’re also under different circumstances. It’s also justifiable to absolutely hate Orin and Gortash (believe me, even as someone who believes Gortash could’ve been better, I killed him in my initial run). Specifically as the Dark Urge, you can tell Orin that she’s being used just as Kethric and Gortash were. She’ll even break down as if she’s realizing that all this death she’s done in the name of her father/for her God, has been her being taken advantage of. Though she never gets a chance to be better, because she’s forcibly transformed in this ending, it’s just a sneak peak of what could have been. She was being used, and while it doesn’t erase or justify ANYTHING she did (and you’re well within your right, and should hold her accountable), it at least gives the player insight on to what could have been.

Likewise with Gortash, a victim of abuse at the hands of Raphael, with canonical lines on how he was beaten in the House of Hope as a little boy. His own parents sold him out, and he ended up being so desperate to be bigger, to have more power, that he also let himself be used, and in turn lost everything he worked hard for (and sold out Karlach, which is absolutely unforgivable of course). However he wasn’t too far gone. You can see his loyalty to you depending what options you pick, and although death is his inevitable end, it still shows that there was still a person inside.

There wasn’t a person in Cazador anymore. He was trapped behind the wall of abuse that he continued, and refused to even acknowledge it, or try and see reason. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for him, but ultimately his actions brought him here. Those that say Ascension for Astarion would free him of those chains, are simply wrong. Why does Astarion deserve to live, anymore than his siblings? Or the seven thousand people who were turned against their will? Of course Astarion is more, controlled in his hunger—but so are his siblings. Even speaking to them after the fight they’ll all vow and attest that they can control themselves, and they’ll even help the others if brought to it.

Ascended Astarion picks up the abuse cycle, killing thousands of people with just his first command. Ascended Astarion no longer speaks to you, but instead at you. You’re his “favorite” spawn, but then again Cazador had favorites didn’t he? And all of them suffered just as badly as the rest. Ascended Astarion even mentions “covering the world in darkness for his spawn”, which shows him continuing the abusive cycle that got Cazador in the first place.

Cazador dying, and spawn Astarion choosing to break the cycle is the significant ending. The best ending for Cazador, the only one for him, is to let him die. He’s a horrible, cruel, bitter man, and any sense of his humanity died long ago. Only in his dreams is there anything left, and he’s too cut off to even reach them anymore.

We also know that the Szarr’s had family. There are relatives to Cazador (see his niece), and clearly it wouldn’t have been wrong of him as a vampire to have a family if he so chose. But he didn’t seek out a partner, like some of his other (vampire) relatives did. He chose to only live by his spawn, whom he considered his children, showing that he truly didn’t see a need for a partner. Themes of family are a vital part of his story, but the element of a romantic partner never has been.

TLDR—Some villains in this game are understood, and potentially redeemable if given the option. Cazador is not one of them.

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burst-of-iridescent · 7 months

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now that i've finished my re-read of the hunger games books, it’s even more baffling to me than before that people compare everlark to kat.aang when they are so incredibly similar to zutara.

a fundamental aspect of everlark’s characterization is that they are star-crossed lovers. and while it's true that that is a gimmick the capitol forces on them, it’s also a reflection of the reality that peeta and katniss were never supposed to fall in love, let alone make it last.

from the very beginning, the odds are stacked against katniss and peeta. their class division keeps them apart in district 12, and in the games you're naturally not expected to do anything but kill your fellow tributes. what peeta does in loudly declaring his love and respect for katniss from the beginning is revolutionary because it goes against everything he's been told his entire life. saying he's in love with her and valuing his life over hers is absolutely radical in a situation that forces you to prioritize yourself and dehumanize your fellow human beings. and this framing of love as resistance is something that repeats itself in zutara's arc, in the catacombs where zuko and katara reach out to one another against everything that tells them to do otherwise, and again in the final agni kai when zuko gives up everything for a girl he had been told was nothing.

they’re love stories because they stem, first and foremost, from love for your fellow human beings — especially in the places where it shouldn’t exist. love for a starving child from a lower class whom you’re supposed to kill. love for a weeping enemy who represents everything you were told to despise. both zutara and everlark are about the importance of unity amidst division, about coming together when the entire world is trying to force you apart. about looking at the person you're supposed to hate and saying no, i refuse, and reaching out in love, in compassion, in empathy instead because you understand that they're not as different from you as you were taught to believe.

and this carries on to the other theme that both ships represent: the need to break the cycle of violence.

one of the main themes that underlies each of these characters’ narratives is how easily (and even justifiably) they could’ve perpetuated the harm that was done to them. peeta, katniss, zuko and katara have all suffered without cause, and it would have been understandable if any of them had let that suffering twist them into vengeance and inflicted it back upon others. it would have been encouraged even, in the societies they live in, for them to unleash their rage upon those seen as deserving of it. to become like zhao or hama or gale or president coin. but what defines each of these characters is that instead of allowing their suffering to overcome them, they choose to help — not harm — others, even the people they would have every reason to hate. that’s why katniss and peeta refuse the chance to hold another hunger games with the capitol’s children, why zuko helps an earth kingdom town, why katara risks the invasion itself to free a fire nation village from tyranny. all of them have been victims of unjust violence and oppression, sometimes even at the hands of other victims, and that’s exactly why they refuse to stand by or be complicit as others suffer the way they did. both everlark and zutara are about looking at the darkest version of yourself, the person you might have been, and refusing to go down that road. to understand that you are more than what your circumstances make you into. to choose kindness over hatred, peace over war.

at their core, both ships exemplify the themes of love and unity and holding onto your humanity against impossible odds. but more importantly, they exemplify hope. the dandelion in the spring. the fire that means rebirth instead of destruction.

choosing to do better, be better, make something better, together.

#zutara #everlark #the hunger games #idc how cheesy it is something about everything always coming back to love just gets me alright

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sstardustt3 · 3 months

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toby rogers relationship hcs! (both sfw and nsfvv)

tags II toby rogers x reader II creepypasta II nsfw II mentions of him being a manwhore II toby being a whinny little bitch II slight angst at the beginning II toby being a wet cat of a boyfriend II just general hcs of mine II

-Okay so im just gonna say this right now that he is NOT a good boyfriend not intentionally of course but none the less, a bad boyfriend.

-He’s the type to be overly obsessive and jealous of you, not even like the people that surround you and other men but just you as a person

-i don’t think he’s abusive but i do think he would be an asshole for two reasons

One, he is canonically an asshole and he is an obnoxious little shit

and two it is cannon that he is annoying to the point where he makes people full on cry

So in my opinion i think if you were to ever get into an argument with this man he’s either mocking you until you break down

-i do think he’ll feel bad about it tho after a while and apologize (eventually)

- but adding on to being overly obsessive i think he’ll also be very clingy and extremely scared of loosing you

- I think being with him would kinda be an endless cycle of good times, hating the world, and then fighting, apologies and then repeat

But moving on from that lets talk about some happier hcs!!

I think he’d like very calm very small easy dates liike going to the aquarium or literal hanging out on the roof of a house and just eating or talking just something very simple and easy to do.

He would definitely be the type to just stare at people and not even realize that he’s doing it and he does that alot and now he does it even more with you! He just stares at you like some type of strange special thing he found

I don’t feel like he’s the type to be vocal about his love and he mostly just uses physical affection (kinda like a cat, he’ll give you affection if he wants it)

Which brings me to another point, he looks like a wet cat and acts like one whenever he even TOUCHES water. Like he can’t stand it and he hates the way it feels on his skin, you found this out when on your second date he let you pick out where to go and out of everywhere you chose a beach..? Like okay picture this..

“...what the fuck is this?”

“It’s a beach, toby.”

“I know that much im not stupid, why are we here.”

“Because your whiter than a ghost and you can use some sun and two, the beach is fun!”

“...now what in the peanut butter fuck made you think that the beach is fun.”

“Stop whining like a little bitch and get in the water.”

“Im not getting in the goddamn water- wait- no-”

SPLASH.

-you threw him into the shallow part of the water and he started coughing and squirming and trying to claw his way onto shore like his life depended on it.

-which brings me to another point, his hygiene is ASS. Like if you weren’t there you he would have continued to use axe bodyspray and act like that is good enough and nobody notices that he showers once every blue moon.

-He did used to shower more often when he was with clockwork but after that he just fell out of habit

-but once he got with you he started to slowly fall back into actually taking care if himself and eating full meals and not just living off of several week old pizza and monster energy

-but when you first met him it was unbearable, so unbearable that you literal had to get in the shower with him and take one with im just to make sure he actually cleans himself properly.

-you actually ended up helping him was his back and he ended up sobbing like a baby, so safe to say you knew then and their what his love language was..

-acts of service!! He is a huge fan of acts of service because boy hadn’t had people really take care of him like that before at first he ends up rejecting almost all of the things you do but eventually he comes around to it and ends up letting himself enjoy being taken care of

NSFVV WARNING FOR THIS PART

- I don’t think that he’s as sex addicted as most people say he is

-like don’t get me wrong he still has a fair amount of hook ups but i personally don’t think it’s as big of deal to him

- i think when he does do it it’s to let out frustration when he’s pissed about something or he just wants to feel something

-he probably mellowed out overtime so now that he’s with you he’ll still do it when he’s really pissed about something or he’ll just do it because you asked

-he had some experience but he wasn’t very good at it but his willingness to learn made up for that

-he’s very awkward at first he has not clue on what to do, he’s used to it being a one and done type of thing.

-he was only in school until maybe 5th-7th grade (my personal hc not cannon) so he was only given a basic understanding of how the human body works in that way

-but when he gets into it oh my god he is a such a manwhore.

-he is pretty rough most of the time, not intentionally but you can not tell me that working for slender hasn’t given him strong ass arms and a sleeper bulid (but more on that at a later date)

-he is unbelievably whinny, just praise him and he is your bitch.

- as i said earlier, he likes acts of service, his way of returning that is aftercare (even if it’s like the bare minimum, it’s the thought that count’s really)

It appears i have ran out of shit to say so that’s the end of this post

(reposts and requests are deeply appreciated and if you want to make a request then submit it through my ask me anything!)

#headcanon #creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #toby rogers x reader #toby rogers creepypasta #toby rogers headcanons #slenderman #slenderverse #x reader #fanfics #creepypasta headcanon

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sokkastyles · 7 months

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"I didn't say Zuko was wrong [for calling Azula sick in response to her being cruel to him] but he's not right, either."

Yes, he is right.

He is right.

And he calls the earthbender bullies terrorizing a poor town, in the same episode, "sick" for the same reason.

I'm glad that little boy, who knew exactly how powerless he was in that moment, grew into a teenager who would stand up to bullies.

Because Zuko could have taken the lessons he learned as a child and internalized that no one would help him, so why should he help others? Why should he protect other abused kids since no one protected him?

This fandom makes A LOT of Ursa and Iroh protecting Zuko, especially when they want to try and argue that he was better off than Azula, but seem to forget that once Zuko's mother was banished, the show makes it clear how little protection he has. Azula herself mocks Zuko with this when Zuko tries to get his knife back from her, saying "who's going to make me, mom?"

Iroh couldn't do anything for Zuko until he was already banished.

Zuko could have taken those lessons and become even more angry and bitter and hardened than what he is at the beginning of the series. He could have seen those kids being bullied by soldiers with much more power than them and said "well, nobody could protect me, so why should I protect them?"

(He could have also responded to Katara telling him about the loss of her mother with "well, my mother was taken from me, so why should I care about your pain and your mom?")

But he doesn't.

I think the fandom tends to downplay this because of all endless wank about how much Zuko had Ursa and Iroh, but they could only do so much and Zuko very much had an opportunity to become just as bitter and selfish as Azula, and he was already on the way there at the beginning of the series.

But it's not Iroh who encourages him to defend that earth kingdom village. It's not his mother who taught him to stand up to bullies. He does it because he remembers what it's like to be a victim, and chooses to break that cycle instead of continuing it.

And he is right for that.

Also, inb4 someone responds to this post to tell me that the word sick is ableist or something, it's also extremely ableist to criticize the words an abused child uses to describe their abuse, so don't do that.

#zuko #azula #zuko alone #abuse cw

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yesihaveaobsession · 2 months

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Looped In Time

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Like Groundhog Day the reader (you) are experiencing a endless time loop, she asks The Radio Demon to get her out but that involves a deal.

Y/N- Y'all might argue and say, " Groundhog Day." but the real ones know it's actually "Mystery Spot."

You woke up again. Again? Yes. You found yourself trapped in an endless time loop, with no idea why. Each time, you died in the most outlandish ways: Frank, Sir Pentious's Egg Boi, shot a lasher, it hit you, and then you woke up in your bed. Another time, Cherri Bomb threw a grenade in the hotel lobby, and there you were again... waking up in your bed. Normally, you'd have no idea what day it was in Hell... but you sure as hell knew it was Wednesday.

You wanted to pull your hair out at this point; you needed out. So, you went to look for the man you knew who could help you: the Radio Demon himself. Said demon was returning from his radio tower. He was much taller than you, so you practically had to jog to catch up with him. You didn't want him to disappear, so you shouted.

"Alastor! Just the guy I wanted to see." Alastor stopped and turned to face you with his smile. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Not wanting anyone else to hear what charade was tormenting you, you grabbed his claw and dragged him into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it.

Alastor let out a chuckle. "That is one way to get your point across." Was he mocking you? You finally turned to face him. "I'm stuck, you baboon."

"Stuck?" He smiled, but his eyes showed confusion. "I'm stuck in an endless time loop that never ends, and I can't do anything about it!" You ran your hands through your hair, trying to catch your breath.

"That does not sound very pleasant at all." Maybe this was a bad idea. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. And God, did you hate it.

"No shit! I somehow die in the dumbest ways and wake up, and it's Wednesday. In fact, this is the hundredth Wednesday I've lived through!" Alastor sat on your bed with his legs crossed over each other. "Sounds... frustrating."

You finally looked over at the deer demon, who clearly was enjoying it by his grin. But he did want to help; he saw the desperate glint in your eyes. "You do realize that you are essentially in Hell currently, yes?"

Seriously? "Yes," You replied flatly. "And you know the only way to break the cycle, yes?" He stood from the bed and made his way over to you, clutching his cane, bending down and sliding a finger down your chest, then pausing and looking up at you.

"No, tell me." You gripped onto the flaps of his suit jacket desperately. Just where he wanted you. "Perhaps I can offer you a way out of this tiresome cycle. But, of course, everything comes at a price." Your giddiness came to an end when he said this. "I'm way smarter than making a deal with you." You replied, letting go of his suit and crossing your arms. To think this was the game that Alastor played. He also knew that getting through to someone looking for help like you was a lot easier.

"I assure you... the price is very reasonable..." He said with animated hand gestures. You were now glaring at him. Was this sensibly a price to pay? Although you weren't sure if he believed you or not. You didn't know how to get out. A part of you felt like Alastor put you in this to get something out of you.

"You're not getting my soul." You spoke. He smiled more. His arms were behind his back, and he started to circle around you, slowly, like you were his prey.

"Oh, you will not have to sell me your soul. Just your services, if you agree to my terms." Terms? What terms? You thought to yourself. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest. The tension between you and the seven-foot man was weighing down on you.

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?" You pushed, knowing he was hiding something behind those yellow teeth. Alastor chuckled. "No mocking here." He let out a sigh before continuing. "Only a simple contract, and you'll be free of the time loop for good... at least, that is my offer." Alastor held out his hand, with his antlers growing from his head. You took a step back. "Do you have some demands that, if met, would break you out of the loop?"

"I was hoping you'd help me without a deal."

"That technically is not an option, my dear." His hand remained stretched out in front of him. You weighed your options. "Why?"

"Think of this situation as a business transaction, my dear. There are no freebies in this plane of existence. There is a price to pay for everything. And I am only being so generous to you because I want something in return, from you."

Either way, you needed out. "Deal." you replied and shook his hand, you woke up in your bed and looked at the clock it said Thursday, you let out a sigh of relief only to realize you don't know what you agreed to.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #i have an obsession

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skayafair · 28 days

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Hell Circles

Alright time for a soul-crashing post!

When I saw Edwin curling down on the floor in that room in Hell, trying to be as quiet as possible and not even trying to run when Charles found him, my mind faltered.

We know Edwin escaped Hell. So why did he look like he gave up? He hasn't been there for as long as the first time, I think even with hell's no-time he should have been able to feel this.

I explained it to myself in 2 ways, they aren't mutually exclusive and are both pretty painful to think about.

It was just this devastating to end up in Hell for the second time, and Edwin clearly didn't expect for anyone to come for his rescue. So his resilience and resolve weren't as strong as the first time or, rather, he felt broken by this sudden developement and didn't manage to bounce back from it yet (again, it wasn't very long this time). The boiling point of "I WILL get out of here again, everything be damned" wasn't reached yet. (As you can clearly see, I have no doubts whatsoever that he WOULD HAVE done this eventually, just after much more trauma and suffering. I'm so glad Charles came before all that.)

This is a psychological cycle. I often go through a similar one so I couldn't help remembering it. When you run as fast as you can and try your best to no avail until you're out of all the resources to go on, and so you give up. Curl up in the corner and hope the outside world won't notice you, give you some respite. The future seems bleak or non-existent. You give. up. It won. And then over time the inner battery charges, or the desperation reaches its breaking point, so you grit your teeth and get up. And run and try again and again and again. "Impossible just means try again". I thought Edwin must have went through similar cycles time after time. The first time he was dragged into hell, then the second. After every couple of "deaths". The worst thing about it is that while real life has at least one escape (not recommended but as a last resort it's at least always there if everything becomes too unbearable), Edwin has none. His only choice is either to tremble in the corner forever (and who said the doll-spider won't notice him even so?) or to run and be torn to pieces. Forever is a very long time. Only with running there's still this very thin, very subtle hope to escape, so in a way this choice is unavoidable. Oh, right, Edwin actually has another possible escape - into madness can you tell I'm fond of loveraftian horror. Locking himself up in his own mind might help, although I'm not sure it would have been effective enough. And honestly I'm glad he wasn't this broken after all.

So yeah that was fun to realize :')

Also Edwin doesn't handle change well, as we know from Charles' words. How jarring (beside the obvious) was it to be tossed from one demon to another? I bet the "punishment" changed, too. It must have felt devastating to figure out the way of handling one and get more used to it, more mentally stable, however horrible it might be, - just to be thrown into a completely new situation.

Let's add insult to the injury, shall we? Look at the corridors Edwin was kept in. The greenish hue, the dim light that makes even the most spacious halls feel claustraphobic. It feels heavy, weights on your mind. There are no windows, no outside, forever. It's suffocating. This place is a pure torture on its own, even without demon doll head spiders.

All in all, I didn't like Edwin much when I first started watching, but after completing the series and rewatching on top of that, I admire him. To go through all these horrors and get out of them is worth that on its own. But Edwin retained his kindness, compassion, moral compass and a will to help others in need. He didn't grow callous, didn't lock himself away emotionally from the world fearing to be hurt again - at least not completely, not even close. I really didn't expect to come to respect and admire a teenage series character like that.

This show has a heart in it, it's living and beating and big and kind, and its characters reflect that in full.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne

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jaketsparrow · 4 months

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TENDING Part 6.1

Tending Part 6.1!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Josh Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: Welp it’s been months since I’ve updated this bad boy and I do apologize profusely. I finally feel like I’ve had my creative spark back :) I hope you can all forgive me that its 1. Late 2. Only half of a part. This is going to be a backstory chapter with some drama mixed in! The next chapter will most likely be the last… Also, I PROMISE I will be better updating from now on!

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Angst, mentions of vomit, swearing, lots of emotional/break up/ manipulation talks, lots and lots of drama and yelling, unfortunately, no smut this time around friends, please forgive me :)

Masterpost

The echoes of the rowdy women finally start to calm down. No more ‘how's my makeup?’, ‘that band was so good’, ‘Let’s get an Uber’. Just the silence of the empty bathroom, except for a steady drip-drop from the faucet. The bar outside was still rambunctious and full of life, but here in this one grimy stall, you were lucky to have a few moments of peace.

It was one of those ‘worn-in’ bathrooms. Drawings everywhere, phone numbers plastered across the stall doors, posters from previous events hanging askew to the sides of you. You couldn’t really tell if any of the surfaces around you were ‘clean’, but at this point, you didn’t care enough to think of the germs collecting.

You had your back against the cool textured wall, trying to collect yourself, finding sensations other than anxiety to focus on. You try to gather your surroundings, grounding yourself by running your hands over the words and numbers on either side of you.

Reality starts to set back in after the panic lowers. You can feel your body temperature dropping, the adrenaline and booze wearing off. Your eyes had finally stopped tearing up and for a brief moment, you had enough strength to asses.

What the actual fuck was going on?

Why did you feel so torn up about this man? When at every turn he just disappoints you.

Every chance you’ve given Jake has proven that maybe he wasn’t a person you could fix. You loved a good fixer-upper and you couldn’t stay away. Coming from a broken past yourself made it easy to want to try and help others, to coax others into feeling better, doing better. It was a habit you tried to break often, but always cycled back around.

Jake wasn’t the right person to give everything to. Every negative thought of him swirled around you, consuming you. The entire Mariella situation came flooding back to you. You fall weak for him every time, your rage turning into the most fucked up but beautiful apologies of lovemaking. Although you can’t romanticize sex with him, it’s quite honestly been pure lust. Craving each other, needing each other’s skin despite everything else falling apart.

You want him to tell you that you’re his girl… That you’re his good girl. You want to hear those words whispering in your ear, quivering at his slow breaths against your skin. It would make everything better because it just would. His praise is worth a thousand apologies. Wrapping yourself around him and staring deep into his big brown eyes was enough to make you forget everything. Feeling him reach your very limits, pulling you as close to him as you can get…

No.

But, you can’t let yourself be persuaded into a relationship of toxicity for the perfect fuck.

Well…

You haven’t even considered that there was also the good Jake. Not just the good-in-bed Jake, but the Jake that let you dance with him, despite denying that he could. The soft chuckle that he let escape his lips as you paraded yourselves around his living room. The music that filled the room slowly felt like it had slipped away the longer you noticed your connection growing. It was hard to even remember what was playing because all you could remember was his soft brown eyes looking back at you.

There was the Jake that did fight for you, multiple times. He stood his ground to a woman who was trying to do everything in her power to keep you two apart. He showed you his most private comfort place, where you both bared your souls to the nature around you. The most intimate and freeing apology of all. There was the version of Jake who quit his job so you could still work…

God. He was the epitome of an anti-hero.

The tears returned, streaming in small bursts down your face, never stopping. Your head started to collapse below you, trying to keep the tears from melting away the makeup you spent hours preparing for him. Each drop fell below you, although you could hardly see any of it through your clouded eyes.

If you weren’t going to end up with this man, he would be for sure the one that got away. He would constantly be on your mind. Ruining you. Climbing through every future memory of intimacy. Asking you ‘Is he better than me sunshine?’ and ‘I bet he can’t make you shake like I can’. Jake would swarm every thought, every decision, every lover.

This night caused more confusing thoughts to enter the mix. Although he showed such kindness to you, it was always in a backward way.

How could you deal long-term with someone so jealous? Someone who is jealous of you for forming a friendship with his own brother? How could you continue with someone who wasn’t even sure if he wanted to continue with you? Granted that time has passed, but will that thought always be in the back of his mind?

From this point on it felt less like a decision you had to make and more of a decision for him. But he had always picked you, between Mariella, between the job, he always chose you…

Slam!

“Oh shit.” A male voice echoes into the bathroom, “Is it clear in here?”

The house was completely dark when you pulled into the driveway. It was the first time Jake even let you drive in his presence; although he had no choice considering the state he was in when you left the bar. He probably could’ve handled the road fine but it was easier for you to get behind the wheel.

You park the car where he would usually leave his, and sit awkwardly in silence for a moment; gripping onto the steering wheel. Sweat steaming between the leather grips and your palms.

Your heart is pounding. This is a deciding moment, you weren’t sure where the conversation would lead you. You remember your first night together, back at the bar, feeling that same heartbeat flutter. Only this time the feelings you had were not full of new beginnings, but rather worrying about an ending.

He hadn’t spoken a word since you put him in the passenger seat. He made no admirations to the cute knickknacks you had collected in your car. It was a very tidy car, but over the years you tried to put more of yourself in the car; this thing is yours until you run it in the ground, so why not? Cute little celestial strings hung from the rearview mirror, little statued women sat near your speedometer, just little pieces of you sprinkled in this steel box. You were especially hurt that he didn’t immediately perk up at the CD cases tucked between his seat and the center console; he wasn’t even interested in seeing if you had ‘good music taste’.

This was awkward, but you had to get out of that bar. There was no way you were going to be able to discuss anything productively with his two brothers and best friend listening in on every word and possibly amplifying the situation further. You had learned your lesson finally.

“Jake,” You attempt to prod him in a calm and gentle voice, hesitant with your tone. Remaining neutral.

He doesn’t respond. He starts to fiddle with his belt, holding his head down in a pouting position. His thumbs run past the buckle, swirling in patterns over the metal. He can’t even look at you. It’s the same avoidance all over again. He’s like a child in that respect, he can’t even come to sit at the table for real adult conversations.

You turn to face him, lifting your leg slightly on the seat, trying to still seem casual and not at all upset, “Jake. I brought you home because we need to keep talking.”

The silence in the air lingers a bit longer through the tension. You two are both separated from each other entirely. Not only because of this difficult discussion, but because there was literally a part of the car separating you two.

“I just don’t know what to say to you,” He stops fidgeting and cranes his neck back into the headrest. He’s halfway to a tantrum. You’re pushing him to be vulnerable; that would be a risky move. “Where do I even start?”

“How about you start by telling me the whole story Jake.”

You jump up, scared of hearing the voice of the opposite sex join you in your echo chamber. “Hello?” You call out, trying not to sound as frightened as you feel.

“Darling! You didn’t leave!” The voice sounds more familiar now.

“Josh?”

You unlock the stall door and peek out to see his familiar curls. He looks concerned, unsure of what he’s even doing in the women’s bathroom.

“Is he in here too?” You ask, scared to fully emerge.

“No, he won’t move. Stubborn fucker.”

Once you know it’s safe, you step out of the stall, holding yourself in a slump. You look over to the mirrors to see that your makeup is far past ruined; you’re practically ready to audition for clown college. You reach your hands up and awkwardly paw at your face, trying to hide the tears from Josh. The makeup runs across the pads of your fingers, the tears barely helping to wash away the mascara.

“Oh, oh, don’t worry about that.” Josh saunters over to you, arms spread wide ready to envelop you in a hug. He braces you and reaches himself around your shoulders. You rest your head into the crook of his neck, trying to sniffle away the tears.

“J-Josh,” You say through muffled choking breaths.

He rubs his hand across your back, “Shh, don’t say anything to me. I need to apologize to you. I’m sorry I did that to you, it wasn’t right of me to be the one to say something like that,” He unfortunately releases the hug, but traces his hands down your arms to catch your hands, holding them firmly in his. He takes a deep breath for a moment, lowering his head in shame. “He just was being a complete dick!”

You laugh at his honesty. Jake was being a complete fuck. His attitude always rose within a matter of seconds. You couldn’t understand where it all came from. It was like someone setting off a Molotov cocktail.

“No, no, please don’t apologize,” You whimper, pouting your lip out, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Josh squeezes your hands again, “I insist that you let me say that I’m sorry. I know how to get under his skin and that very moment was the wrong time to prod at him.”

Josh has this sincere look about him. Although minutes ago he couldn’t read the room, now he was, understanding the care that you needed at this moment. He had this healing, vibrant energy about him that would be impossible to be upset at.

“You really do know how to push his buttons,” You giggle softly, “He was totally out of line and being horrible… As he is known to be…”

Josh pouts back, mirroring your expression, “He was… And well is… But that didn’t mean I needed to say something that would hurt you too.” Josh lowers himself to meet you at your eyeline.

It's quite remarkable how similar the two look. Although, their energy is what truly makes them stand out as different individuals. They share many of the same features, those soft yet strong bones, and the perfect full lips, but… Something about their eyes makes them so different. Josh has a ray of sunshine behind his eyes, while Jake has the stars and moon behind his.

You drop your shoulders, “What did you mean by… You know… What you said Josh? I want to know if he even wants to keep doing… doing this whole thing.”

“Mama, are you kidding?” He pets your hair out of your eyes, “Just look at you, of course he does! Are you fucking joking?” Josh’s excited voice doesn’t dissuade your uncertain feelings.

“But you said-”

“Ah ah, you silly beautiful girl.” was this a compliment or him calling you stupid… “You didn’t listen to everything I said,” Josh taps the side of your head, “clearly a bit foggy up here from all that whiskey you just downed- a nice touch of drama by the way.”

You shake your head and smirk shyly. It was dramatic. It was far more confrontational than you had ever been before. He forced this side out of you, this primal, protective rage. You wanted more than ever to protect your sanity, your heart. Everything was hot, then cold, black, then white. There was no clear happy middle ground when it came to the two of you.

Josh continues, “I said he thought you didn’t want him anymore. He was trying to respect your wishes.” He lingers on that for a moment. The words settling in… Respect… what you wanted… “But you have to remember darling, he can be as dense as they come sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You cut in with sarcasm.

“Yes, but shush. He needed that push to fight for what you have. Do you know how much he talked about you before we went on tonight? He wouldn’t shut up about how he was excited to have you in the crowd tonight and to go home with you, as his. Not something he had to try and win over, not someone he would have to fawn over from the other side of the bar-”

You cut Josh off, “He said all that?”

“We’ll I’m embellishing, I know he meant all of that. Anyway, my point is no matter what, he would’ve come back eventually- I know that for a fact. You’re quite special, I don't think he’s stupid enough to waste not being with you. He just needed his big brother to give him a swift kick in the ass to chase it all a bit sooner. If anything, I just moved the timeline along.”

You raise your hands to your brows, furrowing them in confusion, “But why all the back and forth? Why all the big messes that, if I may add, are never truly cleaned up by himself. Why does everyone else have to convince him to do the right thing?”

Josh moves his hands from yours and rubs the sides of your shoulders, “Mama I think he’s falling for you, he’s just so clueless and doesn’t know how to tell you. Men, am I right? ”

You reach up to grab his hands, “Josh, do you realize how annoying that is?” You chuckle at the thought, Jake does have quite the incompetence for love, “How annoying it is for two people who can work together to have all of these fucking nightmares? Nightmares that I may add could’ve been avoided. He’s been constantly trying to burn this bridge ever since we built it!”

“Of course, I know it’s a mess, but you have to understand the reason he is this way.”

“And why is he that way? I think he likes to make us all scramble around for him…”

You drop your hands, dramatically pacing about the bathroom now. Trying to make it all make sense. Everything is done so that Jake is in the right. Everything is cleaned up for Jake. He never has to think too much about anything because someone else will come along and give him an ultimatum or push him in the right direction. He never has to come be the one to apologize because someone else will come to clean up his messes; to give grand excuses for his behavior.

‘Oh, he didn’t know’ or ‘he’s so confused’.

You couldn’t be in a relationship with a man where you were constantly having to cater to him, to always be the forgiving one. A few weeks were draining enough to experience all of this, but how would months, even years feel?

Josh breaks the silence, “Well that’s because someone else did that to him.”

You stop pacing, thinking about what Josh could mean by that. Someone else? As in another girlfriend? You start to slowly walk back into the conversation.

“Why? Wait, what happened?”

The door rustles behind Josh. Danny pokes his head in, awkwardly smiling at the two of you. He puts his hand up in a shy wave. He’s bashful and not entirely thrilled to be interrupting.

“Not to rush,” He interjects, “But some of the girls out here are really not liking the idea of using the men’s room instead.”

“Too bad!” Josh shouts. He stops for a moment to think. Almost like a lightbulb went off over his head he goes, “Oh! Boy! Wow! She’s really thrown up everywhere! What a fucking mess!-”

“Josh!” You scold.

Josh turns back to you, whispering, “If you want the story, I have to buy some time… Oh, man! Do NOT come in here! This is fucking crazy!”

You realize Josh’s plan and play into it, making loud gagging noises to sell it further.

“Don’t! Blehhh Come in!” You yell.

“Oh wow! They’re going to need two mops for this mess!” Josh can’t help but giggle at his own statement.

“Josh!” You laugh with him this time, “Two?!”

Danny smiles at the improv, poking his head back outside. You can hear his muffled voice softly telling the women that you ‘just need some time to clean up’.

“Okay, go!” You push, “You can’t leave a cliffhanger like that! Mr. Stoic was in love? Mr. has no emotions?!”

“Well,” Josh sighs, “I wouldn’t call it real love…. But yes, Jake had a love, once. She was horrible, awful. We all hated her.”

“This sounds like a great start.” You interject, “It’s always the problematic woman huh? And the innocent manipulator?

Josh sighs, and grabs your hands into his, “Can ya let me tell my story before you start with all your comments?”

You squeeze Josh’s hands back, nodding, agreeing to behave.

“Oh good, because it’s a fabulous story, but I never get to tell it! My brother is awfully sensitive about her. ‘Don’t bring her up Josh’, ‘I’m fine as long as I forget about her’. Ugh. He just couldn’t let go of her. Quite an annoying person. She was always the first one to pick on Jake, more so than I do- which as you know, is saying something. She loved to point out all his flaws, and try to take away his autonomy in every sense. He fell victim to it, becoming a pet of hers. She’d say jump, he’d say how high…

She would show up to all his shifts at the last bar he worked at, and sit there and watch him… I don’t mean she would fawn over him the way you used to, but she would sit there, and judge every interaction, everything he did… The entire time. She was… to put it nicely… Psychotic.”

She sounds lovely, you think to yourself. Explains some of the behavior he’s displayed in the past few months. The need to be in control in the bedroom, the lack of emotional intelligence…

“She wanted to control Jake, and because he was young, stupid, and well, in love. And you know what that ass did? He let her. We started to protest it, tried to set up more gigs to get him out of the house, to introduce him to more people, show him he was better than her, and she found out.”

The reaction is swift and immediate, “Oh, he didn’t…”

“Oh yeah, that fucking idiot told her everything! There were no secrets between them! She made sure of that. Well, really I should say, he had no secrets when it came to her. That… She… I could count on two hands how many ‘friends’ she saw behind his back… She hated us for trying to break down the manipulations. So when she saw that he was pulling away from him, she started to catch on to him and where we were stealing him away. He broke one night and crushed all of our hard work. And from that point on, all she did was take him away from us, until…”

“... Until?” You poke.

An uncomfortable sigh pushes through Josh, “Until she made a move on me.”

“What?!” You exclaim.

“Yes, yes, quite dramatic. We were out one night all together, playing pool or darts or something. She had only let Jake go out with us if she was there to be his bitchy chaperone; we couldn’t be trusted to be alone with him anymore. Well later that night I’m driving the two of them home, Jake’s practically passed out in the passenger seat and she was screaming some stupid pop music in the back seat. I helped her into the house, leaving Jake to rest a little longer since he was out. I walked her into the living room and laid her on the couch. When she fell back, she latched onto me and practically sucked my face off while I struggled to get her alien mouth off of me.”

Josh mimics the entire scenario, creating his reenactment of sorts. Flailing his body about the linoleum floors. What a fucking character.

“Oh no…” The severity of this situation is climbing and climbing, and everything is starting to make sense.

Josh continues, “Little did either of us know, but Jake was not asleep in the car, just merely ‘resting his goddamn eyes’ and came through the front door to find her tongue halfway down my throat. They screamed, and he cried, then she cried, meanwhile, I scrubbed my mouth out in the kitchen sink… It was a whole ordeal.”

“But why did she even kiss you? Was it to get back at Jake for something? Just a fucking cheating addiction? Why would she do that to him?” There are so many questions to be answered, and your time in this ‘private’ bathroom was running out.

“She claims the whole twin thing and that she was too drunk to make out who was who, but darling… Can you believe that? I am much better looking than Jake, you’d think she’d know the difference.”

“Okay, Josh.” You roll your eyes.

“All in all, it was quite uncomfortable for me, but it was enough to push Jake to leave her once and for all. It took him ages to be able to talk to me about it, mostly because during their whole fight she had convinced him it was my idea. By some sort of good magic, he broke her spell and listened to reason… But through this whole ordeal, he lost a lot of the love he could give…

He just didn’t trust me or anyone anymore. He got paranoid all the time and would hate to be alone, but if I came to live with him he wanted me to leave after only a couple of days. I felt horrible for him.” Josh dropped his head, “He had wasted years being taken around like a show pony… All for it to end because she couldn’t resist me.”

“Oh my god Josh, you’re not helping yourself look any better here!” You joke at him, knocking your palm into his shoulder.

“Oh c’mon! You know what I mean.” He turns to face his complexion in the mirror, playing with the tussles of his curls, “Anyways, from that point on he became this mysterious shrouded man that none of us recognized. He started having more random girls follow him home from the bar, he started just being stupid.

And that lovely ex-girlfriend of his, well she never stopped showing up at the bar… She would come in and harass every girl who showed up at the bar, but never in a way that she would be caught. She would leave backhanded compliments, tell them that Jake would never go for them, blah blah. All bullshit so she could keep control of him. He pleaded with her to leave, to give him time to heal; but she wouldn’t.

The manager and security finally caught on to her, but by that point, it was too late. Jake was worried he would never move on as long as she knew where he was. So he had to move to a different bar, the one you worked at…”

Josh glances over at you to gauge your reaction. He looks suspicious like he’s hiding some of the truth.

“Okay… Feels like there's more to this story…” You follow Josh’s reflection and catch him half-wincing.

“There is. And you might not like it, but…” He turns back to face you.

“But…?” You Push

“...What did Jake tell you about Mariella?”

“Mariella?” A name you thought you wouldn’t have to deal with now. You had finally felt like you had the upper hand on that bitch, “Just that they had slept together once, right when he started… Right?”

Before you can even finish your sentence a craze starts to fill through you. Fuck. You can see the puzzle pieces connecting in your mind. Not a complete picture yet, but you know something is going to be said that will connect all the pieces.

What does she have to do with all of this?

“Well. That is correct. But did he tell you why he slept with her?”

“Josh… I don’t like where this is going.”

Your pulse starts to drop again. You had hoped you would hear nothing more of this story or this girl, mostly because you thought that had been resolved. You already had enough jealousy that had built up from that situation, and you can feel it burrowing through your sane mind again.

“I don’t think you entirely will, but it pertains to the story.” Josh sighs, “Now these are probably details he left out because of the whole other story… but Mariella was a friend of Jean, his ex.”

A complete feeling of bewilderment smacks you. The fuck? Friend? Is this a revenge story? A rebound? Did he…?

You don't have much time to think before Josh is spoon-feeding you the rest of the story.

“Jake knew that Mariella and Jean were friends. Now they weren’t best friends or anything like that, but he knew that if he slept with her, it would be enough to feel like he was even for Jean hitting on me or something- I don't know!

“That’s gross.” You can’t help but feel gross knowing Jake was that kind of guy.

“Well…Except, he couldn’t.”

You make a befuddled face, confused, “He couldn’t what? Like he decided it was bad? He had come to his senses?”

Josh grits his teeth, almost looking like he is unsure whether he should share these next details.

“He cried. He made it to her bedroom and cried. They were still dressed, he never even attempted anything. He brought her home, talked a big game, and then sat there and cried on the edge of her bed. He tried to get something going, but I think she had come to her senses by that point… He had put on this tough exterior for months, but he couldn’t be that guy. He didn’t want to admit that to anyone… And well Mariella had everything she needed to blackmail Jake.”

“Fuck.” You walk over to the sinks, leaning your lower back into the counter, “So he never even-”

“No mama. He didn’t.” Josh strolls over to lean next to you.

“Then why did he?-”

“Would you want to tell someone you're sleeping with that your first rebound you spend the entire night crying?”

“I guess not.”

Everything was starting to make sense. That cool, distinguished vibe Jake was always trying to emulate was a front, when in fact he was as soft and gentle as you had dreamed. Jake was just a lost boy, floundering around, trying to protect himself from being made a fool, or falling in love too hard too soon.

You turn to look at Josh, who is wincing through all the realization, “Fuck. Oh no Josh… He’s going to hate you for telling me all of this.”

“I know.” Josh pets his chin between his hands, “Still not sure if it was the right thing to do… Seems like I’ve gotten pretty good at oversharing Jake’s messes. Maybe you can convince him to tell you his story, now that you know he’s worth trying.”

“I never said I would try Josh, I still feel pretty fucked by this whole thing. The least he could do is actually fuck me instead of fucking me over and knocking my brains around in my head every couple of days.”

Josh shrugs, “That’s Jake. At least, the Jake that’s out there now. But I know what he’s capable of.” He winks at you.

You lean over to hug Josh, squeezing him with all of your might. “I don’t know what to do Josh. I think I love him.”

“I think he feels the same way, Mama.” He pets the back of your head, calming you.

You can practically feel the radiation of relief washing over Josh. He never knows whether he’s saying the right things or not. But just that simple explanation gave you everything you needed to forgive Jake, or at least to know it’s worth trying to talk something out with him. It was sad to know that it didn’t come from him, but wounds can be hard to talk about.

You had wounds of your own, fears of being abandoned, and always ready to cut things off before getting your heart broken. Perhaps you were too quick to keep turning Jake away, but of course, all of this is easy to say now that you have the full story and time to reflect.

Knock… Slam.

Jake barrels in, guns blazing, ready to tear the place apart.

“Hey!!”

He drunkenly stomps over to the two of you and pulls you apart.

“Jake!” You scold.

He turns to you, and points his finger in your face, “No. Not you. Do not get involved this time,” His finger veers over in front of Josh, “Stay out of my fucking love life. Don’t get her to leave me too.”

Josh throws his hands up in defense, “I didn’t-”

“You always, always win Josh. You took Jean, you’re taking her too.”

Josh squares up against Jake, taking his hand to lower his finger, “Have you considered that I’m not the reason they always leave Jake? Have you considered Jean was a horrible person for you and you’re still letting her ruin your life? You’re letting it ruin her chance to know you?” Josh looks over to you this time.

Jake throws his hands up in the air, “Ohhhh wise Joshua, please let me in on your vast knowledge of relationships. You’ve survived so much! It’s bullshit Josh. Everyone loves you, everyone adores you, you don’t fucking get it.”

This. This was disgusting. Everything Josh was saying was completely crumbling.

You take your moment, and prepare to join the battle, “Jake.”

He doesn’t even want to turn to look at you. He knows he’s being horrible. He knows he is trying to share the load of his pain instead of facing it.

“No, I said no. You don’t get it either. Do you know what it’s like to always be the other twin? The less outgoing, the less lively. Oh yes, assigned that from the beginning. Josh was the star of the show and got everyone he wanted. Got all the attention. Steals everything from me…” “Are you finished?” Josh asks, crossing his arms in front of him, “Because I have something to say now.”

Jake turns around to face the wall, smacking his palm against the brick, “Oh go ahead, please, we’d love to hear you talk some more.”

“So you decide now is the best time to come in here to try and get her back huh? Now, twenty minutes after your dirty secrets come out? Not when she was trying to fix it? You think you’re some brave guy coming in here to save her from me? No fucking way. I- ME- I am the one who came in here to make sure she was okay, not because I’m in fucking love with her, but because she’s in love with you. You have to be honest with her, be a fucking man.”

“Josh-” Jake murmurs, he seems hurt, “I-” He stares intently at Josh, broken from the words that were just spoken to him. You can see the emotions swirling inside of him, trying to decide: good, bad, angry, sad. You see his finger raise again and lift towards Josh.

“Jake! Look at me!.” You place your hands on your hips, scowling at Jake. He’s still locked into Josh, staring at him with a feverous intensity. Here was that brute cover-up again, and you were ready to face it head-on. “I’ve had just about enough of whatever bullshit this is. Your adult men, knock it the fuck off, you both care about each other! Stop being petty children. You’re both pretty! Whatever you want to hear!” You feel your blood pressure rise, all the drama and persuasion you have in your body pushing forward, “Jake your brother loves you and is trying to help you because for some reason as grown as you are, you still don’t know how to use your fucking words. Josh, your brother also loves you but you do have a habit of taking things too far and stepping into shit that doesn’t belong to you… Now, if we can get back to being fucking adults tonight that would be great!”

He turns to gingerly look at you. He’s scared. Thats all. He doesn’t want to be mean. He’s like a child, unsure of how to deal with his own emotions.

Josh looks at you, slightly frightened, but also intrigued by your willingness to control the situation.

“Alright? We get it?” You check both of their expressions, making sure the sentiments have sunk in, “Good. Apologize so we can get this shit over with.”

Jake jumps back and squares his shoulders, trying to boost his manly behavior. He squints his face in a peculiar unsettling way, “I’m not-”

“I’m sorry!” Josh blurts out. He sounded fearful almost like he was scared you would do something to him if he didn’t apologize.

You turn to look at Josh who has this sheepish apologetic look on his face. Jake brings his hand up to his face, trying to rub away the distasteful expression. He relaxes himself enough to admit to Josh, “I’m sorry too.”

He looks to you for approval. You cross your arms over your chest and nod satisfactorily. “Okay fine. Good enough,” You examine Jake, not just trying to quickly survey his expression, but instead seeing the fear behind his deep brown eyes. The guilt slowly pulls forward, creating a stormy mess inside. “We’re taking you back to your place now. Okay?”

He lets his guard down entirely. Shocked at the words coming out of your mouth. You two are entirely landlocked, holding your ground just feet from each other. Jake, opposite to you, has no idea that his whole love life was just spilled to you. Instead, all he knows is he is scared. He thinks he’s lost you all over again.

He seems like he’s sobered up, like his mind is clear, like he was ready to fight for you, on his terms this time.

Josh tries to sneak past the two of you. Danny opens the door enough to let him squeak out.

You walk up to Jake, wrapping your hands around his waist, pulling him tight into you. Lining yourself up to fit right into him. You look up to him, reaching one of your hands up to tuck the loose pieces of hair back into their rightful place. He’s silent, watching your every move.

“Jake,” You coo, “I’m going to drive us back to your house, okay?” He nods his head, “And then,” You dig your hands into his hips, “we’re going to talk. Like how fucking real people should.” He nods again.

You move your arms up to his back, caressing him softly, trying to show him that you aren’t as mad as you may seem. You reach around to his bicep, cuffing yourself on it, guiding him out of the bathroom.

You open the door to find the two hooligans, Josh and Danny, leaning against the door, eavesdropping.

“Boys, I think it’s time we call it a night.” You rub both of their shoulders, silently thanking them for their efforts tonight. “We’ll do this again soon, okay?” You look to Jake, who is still stoic, perhaps more confused than anything, “Jake and I are going to go home and chat.”

Out of nowhere, Sam pounces over to the group. He looks concerned and worried, “Oh my god! I heard you throwing up like crazy in there are you okay?!”

You turn to Danny, “Do you wanna?-”

Danny laughs, “I got it.”

You give Sam the same comforting arm rub as Josh and Danny and continue to parade Jake through the bar. Some glances make their way across the room. No surprise there; you were some form of entertainment for the customers tonight.

Jake finally breaks his silence, the shock is settling, “What's?-”

You shush him, “Let's just get home.”

Taglist:

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#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van smut #gvf #gvf fic #jake kiskza x reader #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #jake gvf

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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months

Note

For An Elephant is Warm and Mushy, what's the deal with Ichigo and Isshin? Cause I hate Isshin, but I want to know what your take is on it. (Sorry if you've already addressed this.)

I think my thoughts on Isshin in AEIWAM are best summed up as such:

To elaborate: I think that, if he had been a father under normal circumstances, Isshin would have been a perfectly competent and even a good father.

...But he's not parenting under Normal Circumstances.

He's parenting as widower (alone) with three psychic (no how-to guides on this!) and traumatized (Especially Ichigo) children, while processing his own trauma (Again, Widower), while in a HIGHLY demanding and stressful career (Emergency care specialist/Surgeon), while technically on the run from the law (he's still wanted for being a deserter), while also in Apex Predator Central (Karkura is CHOCK A FUCKING BLOCK fulla hollows).

And BY GOD, the man is trying! AEIWAM! Isshin does his best to keep his children informed of the dangers of their world while not also risking them breaking his witness protection scheme. He works extremely hard and his best to keep them fed, housed, safe, educated and loved, and he LOVES them SO MUCH. Isshin is NEVER shy always genuine with affection towards his children! Hell, he even reaches out to who he can (Urahara, Ryukken, his neighbors, the kid's teachers) for help because he knows he's in over his head and needs help and that's a hard damn thing for a parent to do, but...

...It's not enough.

He still lies to his children. For perfectly sane and understandable reasons, but he still lies to them. He still doesn't understand his children- He gives them all the love he can, as best he knows how, but Ichigo especially speaks an entirely different love language. He's still not there for his children. Balancing three kids is ROUGH when you're a single parent and I'm afraid Isshin has some old-fashioned notions about gender that cause him to prioritize the twins over Ichigo. And worse, he's not there when Ichigo, and later the twins, start being in mortal danger from the fallout of his connection to Soul Society.

He grit his teeth and moved heaven and earth to rise to the occasion and still managed to fall well short of it.

A+ for Effort

D- for The Actual Results

So. Why DOES Isshin keep failing at healthy communication? Why DOES he make bizarre choices? Why DOES he suck at being a father?

As I was writing I realized the answer is that he was in the right time and place to accidentally learn some VERY bad habits from his friends and colleagues during his heavy involvement in the Soi Fon-Yoruichi Debacle.

This is already a very long post, so the explanation is under the cut:

To be clear: It's not their fault.

It's one of those awful "Its nobody's fault specifically, but the way human minds work means that this sort of conflict and bad behavior was inevitable" situations. The tragedy of being discrete beings.

The crux of Soi Fon and Yoruichi's relationship was that two people who had previously only moderate issues met another person whose own issues massively exacerbated their own in a continuously escalating cycle.

AEIWAM! Soi Fon is the SOLE surviving child of the Fon Clan. He five older brothers were all killed in service to the second division and the Shihon clan. Possibly under Yoruichi's direction, if I understand the timelines right. She was also raised from a very young age to ignore her own needs as a person, use violence as a Solution to her problems, largely starved of affection, and to hero-worship Yoruichi. Girl was already messed up when she walked into the Second division.

AEIWAM! Yoruichi is ALSO a sole surviving clan heir (Yushiro is conceived as a direct result to her vanishing in TBTP) and ALSO taught to use violence as a first solution, but instead of a self-sacrificing mindset, Yoruichi was raised to believe that other people sacrificing themselves for her was normal, good and even virtuous on their part. She was also sort of doted on by her parents, who were thrilled that their last-chance heir was shaping up so well (So far as they knew).

You can see how this was always going to go badly.

Soi fon is desperate to please. Yoruichi thinks this is perfectly normal and desirable behavior, and so she rewards it with copious affection, because Soi Fon responds to that well. Soi fon, receiving her first hit of positive reinforcement in her whole life, promptly falls head over heels for Yoruichi, and works even harder for her. Yoruichi, thrilled to have someone so capable, continues to reward this behavior. The cycle continues, and escalates.

Eventually, the two of them are operating in completely different worlds. So far as Soi Fon can tell, She and Yoruichi are in a Grand Romance, like a knight and her princess in the fairytale stories she used to comfort herself with as a little girl. She assumes this is a normal relationship between lieutenant and captain. So far as Yoruichi can tell, She and Soi Fon are in a Perfectly Normal And Platonic Working Relationship, because this is how every 2nd Division Lieutenant has fawned over their Shihon captain since the division's inception, and she assumes this is perfectly normal.

At some point, Soi Fon realizes that their relationship is really one-sided and she's giving 110% for maybe 4% on Yoruichi's behalf, but she's invested so much and every authority figure in her life is telling her that this is Right and Correct, that she actively chooses the fantasy over reality to cope with her circumstances. At some point, Yoruichi realizes that she's wildly taking advantage of Soi Fon's romantic feelings that she... well. She likes the girl well enough, but not romantically. But She relies so much on Soi Fon to run the 2nd Division and every authority figure in her life is telling her that this is Right and Correct that she actively chooses to play into Soi Fon's fantasy to preserve this very beneficial (for her) status Quo.

...Enter Kisuke Urahara.

Urahara has no horse in this particular race- in fact, he doesn't even know there's a race going on. He's deeply enamored of this ABSOLUTE BABE that's into his schlubby little ass, who's cool and funny and involved in the same insane workplace he is, and when Yoruichi sometimes complains to him about how crazy her lieutenant is, his only frame of reference is... Mayuri. He thinks this is normal, and the romantic relationship between him and Yoruichi continues to grow. She's his unexpected 11 out of 10, he's her fun dirty little secret. It's kinda tawdry, but it is honest.

Then TBTP happens. Kisuke and Yoruichi sorta accidentally frame themselves for treason, then someone (Aizen) very on purpose frames them for treason.

And so far as Soi Fon knows, the woman she loved, the woman she devoted her life to, the woman who (allegedly) loved her back- has lied to and discarded her.

It hurts. It hurts A Lot.

...Enter Isshin Shiba.

In AEIWAM, Isshin becomes a captain the same week TBTP happens, though he's on the other side of the rukongai when that shit goes down, so he shows up to his first captain's meeting with more than half the captains being brand new to their jobs, not totally sure what he or anyone else is doing-

-And there's Soi Fon. Alone and Miserable.

Isshin is an older brother to a younger sister (who never gets a name in canon) and an uncle to her three children, but they all live way out in the middle of nowhere so he hardly ever sees them and seeing Soi Fon at the meeting, exhausted and distraught (And maybe a little bit hungover) activates every single Big Brother And Uncle instinct he's been looking to inflict on someone.

It's VERY easy for him to hear Soi Fon's side of the story, conveniently ignore the part where she actively chose to believe in a romantic relationship she knew didn't actually exist, and cast Yoruichi as The Bad Guy Who Took Advantage Of My Poor Substitute Little Sister.

Soi Fon, who had *almost* been on the verge of being realistic about the breakup, leans into his version of the story, because, again, she's massively starved for affection and Isshin is giving her the type of love her now-dead brothers used to. So Isshin learns Bad Gender Habits here, and Bad Listening Habits, and Bad "Casting People Into Roles Instead Of Treating Them Like People" Habits, and gets rewarded for them with Soi Fon's attention and sisterly affection.

This is also probably where his decision-making skills start to decline- Soi Fon is a Trusted Colleague of his, and he goes to her for advice on Tricky Political Things, because that's what 2nd division DOES. Unfortunately, Soi Fon lives in Information Opsec Paranoia Spy Shit Hell, and gives her advice out accordingly. He starts favoring not giving out details unless he thinks it's REALLY necessary, and using bad-faith decision making. Even More unfortunately, the Gotei-13 is a hot mess of an organization and these habits serve him well.

...Enter Masaki Ishida, and shortly thereafter, Exit Isshin Shiba until he appears in the Human world as Dr. Isshin Kurosaki, and his wife, Masaki Kurosaki.

It's during the "I met a woman who is *technically* an enemy of the state, but she was so cool I fell so hard in love I decided to do a desertion and light treason" mess, Isshin becomes properly acquainted with Urahara and Yoruichi, and eventually, he hears Yoruichi's side of the story. He reverses course, now Soi Fon is the Crazy Ex, and Yoruichi was just doing what was necessary to survive in their demented military-industrial-spy-governement workplace.

Yoruichi doubles down on his "Shut the FUCK up or Yamamoto or worse is gonna come and kill us, and everyone we love" paranoia, because she's also on the run, and when he comes to her for advice on "So apparently the hollows are WAY stronger than I thought, they KILLED MY WIFE, how am I supposed to keep my kids safe?" She advocates teaching them how to recognize and hide from hollows rather than proper self-defense or the truth, because her first fear still is retribution from Soul Society. It's not insane of her- Yamamoto has a very literally fiery temper and can hold grudges for millennia.

So Isshin Tries. But he's also very burdened by paranoid neurotic behavior he doesn't even know he has, and dodgy-if-not-totally-insane advice from his friends.

And that's what I think of Isshin Kurosaki :)

#AEIWAM #Bleach #Bleach fanficton #bleach isshin #isshin kurosaki #isshin shiba #bleach ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #soi fon #yoruichi shihouin #If this was an AITA post #it's very much an “Everyone Here Sucks” result

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