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#So canonically how do you guys view this moment?
hoshigray · 1 day
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Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k
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“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”
“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”
And whose fault would that be?
Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 
However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.
You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 
Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 
He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.
“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”
Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”
“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”
“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”
Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”
“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 
In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 
Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 
The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 
“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”
“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 
“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 
“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”
“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”
Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”
“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.
But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.
Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.
And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 
“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”
Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”
The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”
“You’re one to talk.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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royalarchivist · 3 months
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Pac: Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok? See you on the other side, big boy.
Fit: [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. [Fit tries to lasso Pac] You're coming with me.
Pac: No, I need to leave!
Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!
Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?
Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?
Ironmouse: You guys, we don't have time to be gay right now.
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[ Full Transcript ↓ ]
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Pac: I'm just here to say goodbye to you, Fit.
Fit: Goodbye? We're not– we're gonna be fine, we're going to get out of here, don't worry.
Aypierre: Yeah, don't worry!
Pac: I know, but like– I will sleep until the end, you know? I will pass through this moment sleeping, man. I won't be able to be awake for the moment.
Fit: [Laughs] You know, it's– I mean, if that's how you wanna go, but– I mean, that- I mean, isn't that bed kind of like.... I don't know, it's–
Pac: No no, I will be staying on the sofa, you know, I will be staying on the sofa.
Fit: Oh the sofa. Ok, that's a nice sofa! Yeah, that is a pretty nice sofa.
Pac: Yeah, it's a nice sofa right? No, yeah– I'm going to stay on the sofa, you know? So, since I will be going Fit... [Pac starts tossing Fit all his items]
Aypierre: [Not paying attention to their conversation] Is that bigger cell? I don't think it's a bigger- biggest one.
Fit: Oh... Thank you Pac, thank you.
Pac: Everything you need to survive, ok?
Fit: Wow.
Aypierre: Wow.
Pac: And if you need this one also, maybe, who knows? [Throws him more items]
Fit: Ohhh, well hey– just take this to remember me by, ok? [Tosses him a photo of himself – the same one Aypierre was carrying all day yesterday]
Pac: [Laughs] Ok, I will sleep holding the picture you know, like this. You know, I will dream about you, Fit. And I hope this is gonna be good dreams. I see you in the other side. Good luck, my friend.
Fit: The other side... Yeah, you know, yeah, we– we– you know? It's been an honor, Pac. It's been an honor, you know?
Pac: Yeah, for me too, you know? Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok?
Fit: Ok.
Pac: See you on the other side, big boy.
Fit: I will sing your praise– Oh yeah, hey– [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. You're coming with me.
Pac: No, I need to leave!
Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!
Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Fit: Sorry, there's–
Pac: I'm sorry!
Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?
Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?
Ironmouse: You guys, you guys– we don't have time to be gay right now, come on. There's no time.
Pac: No, there's no time! Oh, goodbye Fit...
Fit: Ok, c'mon, no no no, come on, we got this we got this!
Pac: Goodbye Fit, I'm sorry!
Fit: [Laughs] Oh no...
#Pactw#FitMC#Hideduo#FitPac#QSMP#QSMP Prison#January 22 2024#So canonically how do you guys view this moment?#Did Pac just canonically conk out from stress?#Did he take sleeping pills on purpose to sleep through whatever awful thing was inevitably going to happen?#Curious to hear what other people think#I like to imagine the stress finally got to him#He spent the entire time trying to mirror things he saw Cell doing#and finally cried about it to Bagi#I can't blame him if he wants to sleep through the rest of it. Man's living in a place that's actively making him relive past trauma#Fit says he's carrying Pac in his backpack but I like to imagine that he just gave Pac a piggy back ride the entire way home :D#I imagined that for Purgatory too#it's cute#idk the whole idea of very traumatized characters being so comfortable around certain people#Idk the idea Pac feeling so safe around Fit#(despite being in a place that is actively stressing him out)#that he feels alright falling asleep and trusting him / Mike to protect him is sweet to me#Idk man I'm a big fan of the ''literal sleeping together'' trope#I love when characters take naps together it's so cute#esp when it's two traumatized characters with a lot of baggage / trust issues#It's nice#anyways I got way off topic with these tags LMAO sorry#I was gonna edit this down but I like the entire conversation so I'm leaving it as is#The YouTube editor living in my brain: Not great for viewer retension#Me: Shhhhhhhh I'm an Archivist. I can do whatever I want.
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tiktaalic · 3 months
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catching fire dash simulator
finnicksgirl Follow
my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on
caps4finnick Follow
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cinnagirl3000 Follow
anybody heard from cinna lately?
plutarcheology Follow
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Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282
revolutionarykatniss
As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?
caesarflickerwoman Follow
anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..
czrflckmn
Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him
caesarflickerwoman
Well you see I’m gay and a man now
theeclove Follow
already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog
siblingvictors
DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER
czrflkmn Follow
everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......
johannadykeson Follow
tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?
#my girl going to get slorn :/
katnissgirlsmakedo
She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core
#lovecore #heartcore #truelove
lucygraydotcom Follow
Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog
finnickforever Follow
I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.
divorceekatniss Follow
hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay
disabledmags Follow
Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3
peetaspride
Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.
disabledmags
As if killing children has ever stopped them before?
#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?
peetaspride
If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.
peetasbabymama Follow
URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama
cupcakeeverlark
this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?
peetasbabymama
ok
district420
isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol
tendinghiswounds
OOMF IS 12???????????
everlarklovechild
the age is the problem here?
marriedeverlark Follow
Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️
beeteemp3 Follow
New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁
3ffietrinket
Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?
peenick Follow
getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck
3v3rlark Follow
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ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech
rues-song
you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams
senecacraneofficial Follow
rip seneca you were so babygirl </3
plutarchbaby69
so now you think we can’t fuck old men?
#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up
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popponn · 3 months
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from the outsider's view. [itoshi sae x reader]
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notes: admittedly, no braincell here only "sae unconditionally lovey dovey" thought (ft. kaiser). i miss sae. and i want him to be happy for a bit. this guy seems like when he is committed he will become the commitment itself despite everything. cute in the way the sort of type who will put in the effort and worth the effort when he is the right person. also, happy cny ❤ warnings: cursings (it's kaiser). fluff. kaiser's pov aka outsider's pov, sae & you being lovey dovey, established relationship, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, heavy hc that sae & kaiser doesn't get along (outside of the field esp). please don't look to closely into this. @doobea thank u for betaing beloved ♡❀
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By any means, it is not as if Kaiser actively tries to murder Sae every time they meet.
But it also doesn’t mean he is buddy-buddy with him either. Honestly, Kaiser hates a lot of people’s guts—Yoichi and Noa currently contending for the #1 spot, sure, but Sae is pretty close up there if he has to list them down. The reason is not particularly complicated for this one, as anyone who has met Sae would agree he is a natural at making enemies. That mid-fielder is one of those people who will do better as a human being if they shut up and not pick up a fight with each breath they take.
So, imagine his surprise to meet the redhead—with you by his side, hand in hand—during a casual outing for some convenience store snack in broad daylight.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Kaiser doesn’t waste a second to ask the moment their eyes meet each other. Kaiser really doesn’t want to have a jerk greeting him the moment he tries to get into an aisle yet here he is.
Sae squints at him in a more offensive manner than usual and then subtly—but very obvious to Kaiser’s eye—pushes you slightly behind his back as if Kaiser might do something to you. Which is wrong—even if Kaiser is very aware he is not the shining beacon of goodness. “Shopping, clearly. What else?”
“Someone you know, Sae?” your voice asks from behind your assumed-boyfriend. Kaiser glances slightly at the blatantly color-coordinated casual clothes. Disgusting. Definitely a boyfriend then. “Oh! Is that Michael Kaiser?”
Kaiser raises an eyebrow as he meets your gleaming eyes. He certainly didn’t expect Itoshi Fucking Sae’s partner to acknowledge him with such enthusiasm. He expected someone who is more or less as bitchy as bitchy as the guy. A smile that has been trained for PR events forms itself on Kaiser’s face, “Why, hello—”
“It’s not,” Sae quickly cuts in. “Just some bugs. Let’s just get the drink and go.”
Fucking Sae.
“Now, now,” Kaiser sneers, his grin widening into an irritated smirk as he approaches closer towards Sae. Said dickhead responds by tugging you closer to him. Sae better be one of those types of unreasonably cutesy protective boyfriends or Kaiser might actually start taking offenses and maim him for real. “Is that a way to greet ‘a friend’, Sae? And—” Kaiser moves on to you, “—hello there.”
The quotation mark hangs heavily in the air. Sae scoffs while you finally get the chance to address Kaiser’s existence politely and introduce yourself, “Hello! Nice to meet you!”
How the fuck did someone who knows basic manners end up with Sae? Kaiser genuinely wants to know if you got paid for this or something. He will ask if it’s not for the fact Sae seems to be itching to claw the hell out of his face. Kaiser really doesn’t want to get lectured for a public incident if he actually gives in to the urge to sock Sae’s resting bitch face. So, instead, he keeps his focus on you even while keeping his sentence directed to you both, “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought Sae is allergic to store-bought products.”
You laugh at that, whilst Sae sends you a sharp glare—that has a hint of besotted lovesick gaze in it what the fuck—that you promptly ignore in favor of answering Kaiser instead. “Yeah, he is a bit nosy sometimes, huh?” you muse fondly, “But he is open to some products, thankfully.”
Sae pipes in, “Hey.”
“Come on, it’s true,” you reply shortly. As your eyes meet Sae, the besotted lovesick gaze returns, this time reciprocated by your equally lovelorn affectionate one. Kaiser really doesn’t want to see this.
“Hmph,” Sae breathes out like some grumpy mangy cat. Then, as if he truly is some kitty raising up its fur and tail, Sae returns his glare to Kaiser. The way one of Sae’s hand wrap around your shoulder to press you close doesn’t escape Kaiser’s eyes. And the most annoying thing is perhaps the way that it evidently isn’t like Sae deliberately shows it to him like some territorial jealous dickhead. It’s like watching someone taking in a breath and that breath is some lovey-dovey fuckery. “We are going. Let’s go.”
As much as Kaiser wants to make Sae suffer a little bit more via playfully flirting with you or something, being a third wheel to the elder Itoshi sounds so awful it’s not even worth trying. Next time the two Itoshis duke it out by being on the opposite team, Kaiser genuinely considers rooting for the younger one just so he can see Sae fail. And also out of some twisted camaraderie because imagining being a witness to this frequently—one really either builds up some immunity or turns insane.
The sort of guy who casually must touch his lover all the time is unbearable to watch.
So, good fucking riddance.
“Shoo,” Kaiser waves Sae away. And the way you look at Sae like the redhead is the most wonderful man alive lowers Kaiser’s opinion of you enough for that wave to be directed at you too. Get a better taste.
You laugh nervously at their brief exchange as Sae drags you away. Kaiser too shifts his attention away from you. Unfortunately, turns out—fuck him—it isn’t enough to escape the barely audible whispers Sae shares with you as the two of you walk away from the aisle.
“You should be nicer. He is still someone you know.”
“He touched Isagi’s chin on their first meeting to fuck around—I’m not taking chances with that shithole.”
“Aw. I don’t think he will—he seems very aware I’m with you.”
“That guy is insane and it’s better to be ready to kick his dick when you have to. Don’t be too friendly with him next time.”
God. Kaiser wishes for a match with Sae soon just so he can duke it out with him without any repercussions.
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We talk about how mischaracterized Hobie is - which he is - but I honestly think someone else is characterized REALLY weirdly by fandom
Miguel O'Hara and Misrepresentation of His Rage: a.k.a Miguel has Ken Energy you fools
[this is a breakdown where I examine Miguel's trauma, his relationship with Miles, his role in The Society, and his personality]
I talk a lot of shit about the Hobie tag, but the over-saturation of smut in the Miguel tag is at critical mass.
And like Latino-fetishization aside, I feel like he's not written as a human.
He's written so flat.
I swear ya'll be writing him as the angriest, coldest, most anti-social man on earth. Ya'll be having him rude and avoidant with no friends whatsoever or a romantic soft latin lover and NO IN BETWEEN
which is so funny cause like... I feel like Miguel is Just A Guy
I know they're easy to overlook but I think about moments like these all the time
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But I ALWAYS see him written him as friendless, and cold, or constantly irritated and angry but like - I feel like most of the time Miguel is just some dude. Like in a Good Way.
And he's fine with that.
Miguel runs a Society Full of Spider-people, and they're working for him voluntarily. Peter Parkers wouldn't work for someone they didn't think was genuinely, good-likeable, and level-headed.
He compliments Lego-Spider-Man. When Hobie was there he wasn't pissed he was just like 'not in the mood rn ngl'
and Hobie didn't take the piss outta him - because I feel like him and Hobie have a mutal understanding/relaxed relationship. All throughout the movie Hobie isn't talking bad about Miguel in specific - he never says anything about Miguel being annoying or evil - he's always taking about The Society Miguel has made.
Even Hobie - who will openly talk bad about the PM, doesn't really feel the need to diss Miguel's character in specific. Which I find very interesting.
I think this, along with a couple other things shows that the way we view Miguel in fandom is not really how he is, like..when he's not going buckwild insane.
Miguel and His Role as Canon
I could see Miguel taking his role as boss very seriously - the same way he took being a father.
Miguel has assumed the role of 'leader' over these Spider-people. In his eyes, it's his job to lead these people through their canon events to the other side, for the safety of the universe, and for them to become the people fate says they're supposed to be.
Because he made the mistake of 'going against fate'. A lot of the time we say that Miguel's justification is 'because I suffered, you must too'. But in his eyes, it's more like 'I tried to run from who I was supposed to be and it blew up in my face. Please don't make the same mistake - it's not worth it.'
Quiet literally 'Do what you're supposed to do, and things won't fall apart around you.'
And I think that really says a lot about how he feels about his own choices, and his own daughter.
Miguel broke canon to be with his daughter, and because of that, she - and billions of others, died. And Miguel feels directly responsible for that. In his eyes, he killed his daughter and murdered billions of people.
And although he loves his daughter - he sees it as not worth it. He sees taking her father's place as a mistake.
To Miguel, canon events and the pain they cause are much more 'worth it' and 'tolerable', than the pain and guilt of killing an entire universe.
Because with canon events, there is no fault. It's not your fault you couldn't catch Gwen Stacy. It's not that you're not fast enough, it's that it's suppose to happen. It's not your fault.
But in Miguel's case - it was his fault. It wasn't suppose to happen.
That's why Miles sets him off in a way others don't and can't. Because he wasn't supposed to happen.
When things are under control, Miguel is fine. When things aren't, Miguel isn't.
Miguel needs order. He needs canon. Not because he likes it, but because he feels beaten into submission by it. He feels safe in the idea that canon events happen even if you do everything right, because he still feels the guilt of having done something 'wrong'.
That's why he sees letting people die in canon events as 'the right thing'.
It's the trolley problem.
A trolley is hurtling at someone you love, on the other track there are 5 people. Do you let the one you love die, or do you hit the switch and save them - and take the blame for killing five people?
What's the right thing to do? Save your captain father and letting a universe die? Or letting your father die, but the universe will for sure live.
Miguel has already made his choice, even if he didn't know it at the time. By becoming a father, Miguel hit the switch. And he chose his daughter at the expense of a universe. And he regrets that decision. He feels guilt, like he's to blame.
When canon events happen, there's no one to blame. When anomalies happen, there is.
Miles and Miguel
Miles and Miguel have an interesting and unique dynamic with each other, one that I haven't seen anyone mention yet.
When I look at Miles and Miguel, especially in this scene:
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I kinda see Miguel and a past version of himself. Miguel trying to stop what he sees - as someone about to make the same mistake he did.
When Miguel met his daughter, he didn't know about it's threat to the multiverse. And although it might be described as the best time in Miguel's life, he regrets it. If he would go back, he would have rather let his daughter live. Fatherless, but at least she would have lived.
Miguel didn't know. But Miles does. And that's what makes Miguel so furious.
Miles is going to go against canon, be with his dad, and threaten the multiverse. And Miguel believes that if Miles does this, billions of people and beings across a universe will die. 100% totality rate, 100% assured.
Miles is in the same position as Miguel once was. Miles has the same choice. To choose the one he loves over canon.
The only difference is Miles knows. He has a chance.
Miguel believes that Miles can spare himself the pain, and the guilt of murdering billions - if he just listened to him.
Miguel is the only Spider-person who has ever killed a Spider-verse. And he doesn't want that for Miles.
Miles being an anomaly was one thing. He was ready to calmly talk about that. But when Miguel sees him going down the same road as he once did, making the same choice even though Miguel is telling him not to - it makes it snap.
Because if Miguel could go back, knowing what he knows - if Miguel could only be in Miles' place - he wouldn't. Like Rio said - Miguel would kill to be in his place.
He sees Miguel like how Rio describes herself, oddly enough. Rio says she'd kill to be in Miles place, and she doesn't understand his 'irresponsible' behavior. But unbeknownst to her - his 'irresponsible' behavior is more heroic than she can understand.
Miguel is just the same. He sees Miles' choice as irresponsible, that he's making all the wrong choices even though people are throwing opportunity at him.
Miles is the only other Spider-person to risk what Miguel risked. And, genuinely believing everyone will die because of this - he's furious at Miles, the same way he's still furious at himself. He loved his daughter, and he knows Miles loves it dad. But having been on the other side of it all, he sees it as not worth it.
Miguel wants to be the only Spider-man who is the way he is. He doesn't want to Miles to do what he did, become what he is. Because he knows theres no coming back from that.
If Miguel could go back and shake himself and scream in his face to leave Gabriella alone, to just leave her dimension alone, he would. But he can't.
So he does it to Miles.
Miguel as a Boss
I don't think Miguel is an outright mean or abrasive person. I feel like outside of Miles, he's fairly calm, albeit a bit stressed. I could see him being really organized and good at time management -
And I can see Miguel being good with people. I don't think he's the kinda boss that'd be like 'Oh, you had a canon event last night? Your girlfriend fell off a building? Yeah, we get that a lot, get over it.'
And if anything - I think he'd want to help the Spider-people when it comes to processing canon events.
Miguel believes that canon events are necessary, not just to the multiverse, but to the development of who Spider-people are 'supposed' to be. So I think he'd set up support systems around HQ to help them process it, and he'd at least be a bit understanding.
I could absolutely see Miguel as the type to ask a teammate "Are you alright?" after something intense, or telling them to sit out. I could see him giving generous leave for Spiders who are going through stuff.
By Jess's response, it seems as if he leaves most of that to her, but I feel like the fact he stops to tell Gwen "Don't worry, kid." shows that he's use to comforting people, or prioritizes putting people at ease.
I mean, what Spider-man doesn't?
Miguel does seem to get along with people (aside from Miles and Gwen when he's scolding her), and it seems like people do like Miguel.
Miguel's Personality
Tbh - I don't think he's nearly as angry as fandom makes him out to be.
He was raising a child. I imagine that for the most part, he's pretty patient.
Like if you call him a name, he's not gonna get pissed. I feel like he's more likely to be like "Haha. Very funny." Or just pinch his nose bridge and be like "You done?"
I mean I know with all the gnashing and clawing and yelling and going apeshit, it can be easy to imagine Miguel as JUST that.
But I also like to imagine that most of the time, he's just like that normal boss as Target.
And a lot of his day is spent doing boring mundane things.
He's not always standing there brooding over videos of him and his dead daughter. He only does that when he's psyching himself up to yell at Miles.
Outside of that, he probably has a lot more things to do, realistically speaking. Organizing missions, checking status reports, looking over intake forms of anomalies, okaying and vetoing different protocols. Approving new technology, taking complaints from members, dealing with Hobie (an extra job in its own right), fixing things MayDay breaks, etc, etc.
And he's completely fine with that. Maybe he even finds calmness in it. When there's order, and routine, and everyone is working together and there's no kinks in the hose per say, he can operate.
Like yeah he's a little irritated and looks like he only slept 4 hours - but he's here and he's going to work with his team and employees, make sure things run smoothly, and make sure everyone gets home safe.
He's gonna try and make the society a nice place to be and make sure people on the team (like Lego) feel appreciated and odd-one-outs like Hobie get to hang and do what they want without much kickback.
The other Spider-people - like Pavi - wouldn't have joined otherwise.
If Pavi had showed up and Miguel was all stern and cold and rude, he probably would've been like 'no thanks my friend'
Miguel knew Peter B. before he lost Gabriella. So he had to become friends with Peter some way. He was putting up with Peter and his humor by choice, and in return Peter must have found Miguel cool enough to hang out with.
I think it's because Miguel is good with people, a lot of different types of people.
He's pretty down to earth, even if he is a work-aholic. He can be fun to chill or hang out with, even if he's a bit of a tight-ass.
Sure his humor may be dry, and his personality tame, but he's just him.
But I can see him as being a guy who you see at the gym routinely and never say hi to but you just nod at each other in silent respect while doing your workouts sometime.
Or the dude at your job you only see at the coffee machine - you know he does other stuff, but you never run into him anywhere else.
Or the dude who'll stop on the street when you ask for the time and lift one earphone before telling you it, then walking away without another word.
DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN DO YOU GET THAT VIBE Like just Dude He's like a dad but not like a 'Dad vibe' with like sneakers or anything but like 'Dad who comes to PTA meeting but doesn't talk to anybody and quietly leaves when it's over'.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS VIBE It's giving Ken.
Anyways stop avoiding Miguel's Kenergy.
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hufflefluff-stuff · 11 months
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hi! i was wondering if you could write how HL characters would act when they are jealous
Yes! Also, I'll add how these characters wind up confessing to their crush! 👍
Characters: Sebastian, Garreth, Ominis, Poppy, & Leander
......
Sebastian Sallow
Let's be fr..this guy gets jealous INSANELY easily in canon, even when platonically speaking.
It's hard to pinpoint where he exactly started catching feelings for you, but he certainly fell for you fast after your adventure into the library's restricted section.
Unfortunately, because of your growing reputation as a "hero" around Hogwarts, Hogsmede, and other hamlets...you've have strangers and students alike often come up to you and interrupt your conversations with Sebastian.
They mean well, only showing up to compliment you or thank you for some favor you've done for them.
But still it puts him in an sour mood, especially if he's unable to do anything about it without coming off as a prissy Slytherin.
During classes, he feels 10x worse if he's not partnered with you and instead sees you with classmates he views as "competition"...like Garreth, Leander, or even Amit, scowling at them in envy and unable to focus unless the professor specifically calls him out on it.
The only exception is Ominis, since he's a trusted friend and damn well knew his crush on you (he has certainly used this as blackmail to stop him from doing stupid stuff) but Sebastian will still huff about how "close" you two are growing.
Sometimes his jealousy gets so bad he needs to go blow off some steam in the Undercroft, casting damage spells on whatever poor dummy, pillar, or knight armor happened to be in his way.
It's nothing that Repairo couldn't fix.
While your assistance in his quest to find a cure for Anne was extremely important to him, that's not the only reason he brings you along for the ride.
He genuinely enjoys your company, and it's his chance to actually be alone with you and talk without any rude interruptions.
Well...there's trolls, rankrok's loyalists, spiders, ashwinders, Inferi, etc....but none of them are annoying students who try to hog all your attention just to spite him.
Aside from Ominis, Anne keeps encouraging her twin brother to make some move if he's that jealous (which Sebastian repeatedly denies).
Sooner or later...he may lose that chance, and he fears this. But he never knew when the moment would come..
Then one night, you were both fighting poachers and their leader, an Animagus, insulted him so horribly that it made his confident expression drop for a moment--as did his Protego shield.
You didn't hear what she said exactly, but his devastated face told you enough and you were pissed.
So you rained down a torrent of ancient magic lightning before she can even think of transforming.
Sebastian could only watch as you smite her like some furious god unleashing your wrath on the world, finding you both badass and ethereal.
When it's all over, you rushed to his side and ask if he's okay--but he just kisses you right there and then, silencing you.
He's so sick of waiting.
Garreth Weasley
His jealousy is nowhere near as bad as Sebastian's...but it's still there. Just subtle.
He pouts a lot when somebody steals your attention away, and he tries way too hard to impress you with whatever brilliant potion concept he drafted up (and definitely didn't have approval to brew in class under any circumstances).
Speaking of which, you're his usual partner in potions class, so he'll be highly disappointed if Professor Sharp decides to pair you with somebody else that day.
Garreth feels this sting in his heart if he overhears you praising them for their perfect brew, while he stares into his bubbling cauldron and sulks, wondering what he could've done differently.
He didn't know how you truly felt about him, so he got the genius idea to cook up a love potion the day you had a substitute for class (he sat at the furthest station and had secretly gathered the ingredients beforehand).
Just as you were about to try it for yourself, he accidentally knocked an incompatible ingredient into the pot and caused its contents to explode, staining both of your robes in pink.
While everybody laughed, the sub made the stains vanish with some magic and decided to dismiss class early, making you two stay behind to clean up the mess.
Luckily only house points were deducted due to your actions, so you won't be getting detention for this.
Still...Garreth was quite upset and you could tell.
You reassure him you're not mad in the slightest, and that you knew exactly what he was trying to do (followed by a small wink before continuing your cleanup).
His face turned as red as a maxima potion, and when he returns to the Gryffindor common room for the night, he gets confused stares from his fellow housemates as they wonder what's gotten into him.
But he can't stop thinking about you.
Maybe you ingested droplets of the love potion after it exploded, since you did seem particularly flirtatious with him in that moment and knew his intentions.
Looks like he got his wish after all.
Now to ask you out properly..
Ominis Gaunt
He's not an easily jealous guy. He'll never get angry at other people for simply wanting to spend time with you or if you're partners with them in class.
You've made a name for yourself at Hogwarts, and while he doesn't always agree with the dangerous stuff you get involved with, he only expects people to look up to you and pull your attention away from him.
Though deep down, it kinda hurts...especially since quite a handful of students from other houses perceive him as someone you shouldn't be around (some Gryffindors with "holier than thou" personalities even had the guts to say you're better off without him when he's standing right there).
Being a Gaunt + a Slytherin had that effect, unfortunately...
But he's sick of hearing that all the time.
Anyone else would've snapped at whoever criticized them based on blood status or rudely interrupted a conversation they're clearly having with you.
Yet when he does it..suddenly he's the bad guy?
It never made sense.
So any jealous feelings Ominis has stem from his own insecurities, and they grow even worse the more he realizes he's in love with you..
Like Sebastian, he'd probably storm off to the Undercroft to calm down if he's feeling heavily upset.
Fortunately, you're quick to defend him and decline other people's advances, saying you'd much rather hang out with him.
When you nearly got into a wand duel/fistfight over something insulting they said about him, that's when he realizes you cared about him as more than a friend...
Though he wanted to test the waters, so to speak, before hyping himself up to confess to you.
So throughout the week, Ominis expressed subtle desires to be in closer proximity to you (which you were fine with despite being initially confused at his sudden change in behavior)
These are, but not limited to, linking arms while walking in the hallways, napping beside you while you were reading or petting a random cat, "accidentally" falling asleep on your shoulder in History of Magic, and letting you guide him through assignments in herbology and potions class so he took the correct measurements (his grades improved, which is always a plus).
It takes a little bit of encouragement from Sebastian, but by the week's end, he courts you in one of his favorite spots outside the castle, gathering flowers, candles, and everything.
You truly made him feel loved..and he was going to do his best to reciprocate that.
How he wishes he could see the looks on those Gryffindor preps' faces when they realize the "hero of Hogwarts" is his date.
Poppy Sweeting
Considering how little she spoke to other students, even ones from her own house, this Hufflepuff found it difficult to get close to you at first.
You being hailed as a "hero" made it especially challenging, as you seemed constantly busy and people were bugging you for attention/advice/help....all while Poppy was standing in the background, forcing a smile.
Of course, you always made time to help her rescue beasts. It became your passion, and she was happy about that. Your adventures together allowed you to connect on an emotional level.
The moment she knew she was in love was the night when you both observed a Mooncalf dance, trying to make sense of the pattern those sweet big-eyed creatures left behind.
No matter how many times you've seen them, their dances are spectacular--ever captivating.
But when Poppy asked for your opinion on the pattern she drew out, she stops after seeing your breathtaking smile, eyes practically sparkling in the glow of the moonlight..
And suddenly that's all she could focus on.
Suddenly that was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Since then, her jealousy around other students has increased tenfold...especially when one jerk who disrespected beasts bragged about their poacher parents and invited you to visit their camp.
You've never seen a girl Depulso another student so fast in your life, but Poppy acts like nothing ever happened.
Similar to Sebastian, her jealousy manifests in the form of glares and general scorn towards anyone trying to ask you out on a date (which you, fortunately, decline).
She 100% rambles to the beasts about you.
If Highwing and Lord of the Shore could talk, they'd tell her to just stfu and confess to you already bc the tension is killing them.
It only (finally) happens when you invite her to the Vivarium for the first time, and they both nudge you two together, not backing down until you finally kiss.
If any of yall know that scene in Pokémon Scarlet/Violet where the box legendary pushes Arven towards his friends...that's this exact situation.
Leander Prewett
There's not doubt that this Gryffindor was going to grow jealous of your rising popularity in Summoner's Court and Crossed Wands.
He's a sore loser, while you have generally good sportsmanship..but he secretly appreciates you encouraging him to keep practicing. He only keeps going because of your words alone.
Outside of classes and competitions, he tries to hang out with you but oftentimes your attention goes to other people--whether it's professors keeping you after class to go over extra assignments or a friend sending you an owl with an urgent request.
You don't mean to keep ditching him, but to him it feels like you're always "too busy" for him.
Leander just scowls at the owls while they stare back at him like "hey, don't shoot the messenger".
Yet even when you do manage to spend time together, he only ever asks about your recent escapades....and then refuses to believe them despite you explaining them in great detail.
To this day, he still isn't convinced you possess ancient magic.
But the truth is that he wants to believe you. He admires your bravery and is insanely in love with that aspect of you....though he doesn't know how to express that.
He wishes he can relate and have cool stories to tell, but when people bring up his name they only ever talk about his constant failures.
He doesn't feel any better when others rush to defend your acts of heroism, thinking he's being a jerk.
The truth is you actually loved him and his company despite your frequent banter, but believed him to be way out of your league.
At least until the day Professor Kogawa assigned you to help him after flying class, citing the lack of respect he's been showing to his broom and your good influence on classmates.
He saw this as his chance to impress you...and failed miserably as he was unable to focus and snapped at his broom in frustration, causing it to whack him in the face just as a group of Slytherins passed by.
They laughed and teased him relentlessly, but after scaring them off with a chomping cabbage...you realized Leander had disappeared.
But he didn't go far as you discover him sulking near the lake, hiding himself with the Disillusionment charm (which you cancelled with Revelio).
It's there he finally talks about his true feelings towards you, and you see a more vulnerable side to the typically uptight Gryffindor.
In the end, you decide to give him a chance.
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geekgirles · 5 months
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Just Look My Way
Can we please talk about the way the lyrics have changed from the original to showcase Stolas' growth and character development?
I was already surprised that what originally looked like it was just going to be a fan video ended up becoming canon content, but when I heard the different lines my mind exploded, you guys.
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Note the difference, the major difference, in treatment!
In the original version, which released back in season 1 but before Ozzie's, Stolas' line was actually:
"Come now, my little impish plaything, we've both made our choice."
Keep in mind the original most likely included this line as a reference to what both Striker and Stolas said in regards to Blitzo's relationship with Stolas. Even our dear owl boy referred to him as just a plaything while saving him from D.O.R.K.S! Which most likely only helped cement Blitzo's internalised belief that Stolas would never see him as anything other than a cheap thrill.
Here, however, Stolas is cementing him as his dearest! A loved one! Someone he values and cares for! That is a huge difference from being just a sexual partner!
And the second line. OMG, THE SECOND LINE.
Unlike the original, where Stolas speaks of a choice that, realistically, was never there (as it usually is the case with relationships where there's a power imbalance and, moreover, were born out of transactional needs), this time he is reaffirming Blitzo's agency and independence. The implied choice is clear: Stolas will present the asmodean crystal to him so he no longer relies on his Grimoire and sleeps with him out of necessity. All that's left for Blitzo now will be to choose if he wants to remain by Stolas' side even then. And the choice is his.
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As a quick aside, I also love the constant symbolism between Blitzo and the Moon.
Technically, compared to Stolas and the Earth, both are just satellites, nowhere near as important as a Goetia demon and member of Hell Royalty or a planet brimming with life and where beauty and wonder happen at every corner. And yet, without them neither can thrive. Stolas is as fascinated and dependent of Blitzo as the Earth is with the Moon. Without the Moon, there's no tides; it brings inspiration and romance to countless souls, brightening the night sky, just like Blitzo brightens Stolas' life.
Blitzo is Stolas' moon, and I just think that's beautiful.
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Every word in this line in particular just oozes character development, too.
The original was:
"What's left for me in this broken house if I cannot have you?"
This is no longer about Stolas using Blitzo to escape his boring routine and his horrible marriage to Stella, it's about Stolas being deeply and hopelessly in love with Blitzo and not knowing what to do to convey that in a way that will reach him.
Once again, Blitzo has stopped being a mere plaything or boy toy and become so much more. He has become an essential part of Stolas' life he doesn't know what he'll do without but knows he'll have to let go of if that's what Blitzo wants!
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Now, I must admit I am not exactly a fan of this change in these particular verses. On the one hand, I understand it's meant to reflect Stolas is trying to understand Blitzo and see things from is point of view, but I also feel it robs the moment of the raw feeling the original conveyed:
"Is this how she'd feel? Abandoned, all alone, left to fend for herself, for a semblance of happiness that doesn't have to end?"
"She" clearly referring to Via.
I just think it would have been more powerful to keep it and allow that juxtaposition between the most important people in his life to help Stolas understand Blitzo better. After all, he loves them both dearly and unconditionally, but his actions have also hurt them both very deeply.
I just think it'd be fitting if one allowed him to understand the other better.
Nevertheless, if there is something this song has taught me, is this: we are so not ready for the next episode.
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hobiebrownismygod · 6 months
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The characterization of Miguel as "the bad guy". News flash; He's not.
I keep seeing people talking about Miguel as if he's the villain of ATSV. Y'all. This is NOT true. People are paying too much attention to the train scene and not enough attention to his words and actions that are the main points of his characterization.
First of all, Miguel was NOT trying to hurt Miles in this movie.
The main reason why people think he was going to hurt Miles was because of the train scene, where he basically slammed Miles into the side of the train, but if you look into this scene more closely, Miguel wasn't genuinely trying to hurt him.
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Miguel starts off with his claws extended, trying to climb up the train toward Miles. HOWEVER-
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The moment he lunges at Miles, trying to grab him, his claws retract. Why is this?
Because he's not trying to hurt Miles. He's trying to catch him.
This happens again later in the movie.
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See the difference? Miguel uses his claws to rip open the Go-home machine, but immediately retracts them as to not harm Miles. If you watch the actual scene, you'll see the claws slowly retract. Its not an animation error. It was purposefully done.
Sure, he was being aggressive. Yes, he was definitely gonna rage on Miles about this, but he was not going to hurt him.
Miguel is not the bad guy in this movie.
Miguel believes that canon events are real. He believes that he is really the only reason that the multiverse hasn't collapsed yet and he believes that he needs to stop Miles from saving his dad because otherwise, millions of people in his dimension will die.
Second of all, Miguel is not normally an aggressive guy.
Before I start, we don't know this for sure, but this is what I believe from what I've seen in the movie and online about him. I don't believe that Miguel is normally an aggressive person.
Since we're talking about the go-home machine, lets use that as the first piece of evidence that he's not normally an aggressive person.
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Look at Peter's reaction to seeing Miguel tearing up the Go-home machine. He is petrified.
Now, if Miguel was normally the type of guy to do this, Peter would not have this kind of reaction to him going after Miles. The entire society stands back and watches Miguel demolish the machine because its never happened before. None of them have ever seen Miguel act up like this before, and its shocking. Thats why nobody reacts. Thats why they all stay silent when he's done.
For the second piece of evidence, we have how Miguel acts when explaining canon events to Miles. He is extremely calm compared to how he is in the chase scene. He is genuinely trying to relate to Miles and comfort him because he's not normally an aggressive person.
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Look at his expression. Look at how his hands are up in the air, trying to calm Miles down. He's not trying to hurt Miles. He's trying to make Miles look at it from his point of view. Because from his point of view, the impacts of breaking a canon event are disastrous. He believes that every single person in Miles universe is going to die. And he believes that letting Jeff die instead, is the only way to stop it.
Miguel is a good person who's been through a lot.
To us, his ideas are ridiculous, but to him, someone who's lost so much, they're the only thing keeping everything together.
Miguel is not the bad guy in this movie. Miguel is not the villain in this movie. We already have an established villain, and its not him. Miguel is simply an antagonist. And he's definitely going to get the chance to redeem himself in the next movie.
This was kind of short. If I think about other stuff he does, I'll add on, but these are like the main two reasons I didn't think he was the villain when I watched the movie. It just wouldn't make sense for him to be the villain. He's literally Spider-man.
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blocksgame · 9 months
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Tips on character voices when writing fic
This is written in mind for people writing fic in MCYT/QSMP/DSMP/Life series/etc kind of fandoms. But if anyone finds it useful for anything else, well then, hell yeah.
Character voice is big in all, uh, fiction, and mimicking it in any fanwork is big. But I think it’s especially big in these fandoms where the voices are so distinct – it’s usually how a Real Person Somewhere (the streamer) talks, versus something very scripted that you’d see in a TV show or novel. And it can be a big difference in your character sounding generic versus really feeling true to the original.
Listen to a bunch of your subject talking. If you want to write a character well, watch vods from their point of view, or episodes where they show up a bunch. Take note of what they say and how.
2. If you don’t know how to start doing that: try literally writing down what they say. Transcribe an actual exchange in fic-format. You probably won’t want to publish a literal exchange from canon, but it will give you a sense of how to physically write what they say.
3. If you do this (or just pay attention to how they talk), you will get a lot of: Stumbling, pauses, repeating words, filler words, weird sentence constructions, fragments, etc. I love em! Here’s something that comes through in improv much more than in novels or movies: Most people, even very charismatic people, are not very eloquent when they speak. Writing out conversations or sentences will give you a sense of the unique and delightful way in which your subject is not eloquent. vvvvv way more under cut vvvvv
(People use a LOT of filler/etc when they speak. It’s reasonable to cut back on this if it’s interfering with a nice-looking or readable result. I believe this is the eternal struggle of people who write transcripts – you want the transcript to be accurate, but there are also a lot of things you can obviously simplify and not lose the meaning. So you’ll end up falling somewhere on this spectrum either way. But I do think a lot of mediocre/generic fic dialogue is very stylized – it doesn’t sound like your guy because your guy literally wouldn’t say that. They would say it worse and more confusingly.)
(I’m serious, if you’ve never sat down with a short non-completely-scripted clip or real conversation or whatever and just written out exactly what was said, do it. It will make you better at writing.)
4. Wonda-cat made a really incredible list [link] of characterizing speech patterns for the Dream SMP members. But you can also do your own reconnaissance and come up with your own patterns, common phrases, etc.
5. You do not have to get EVERYTHING right. You’re not going to, like, get so deep into the speaker’s brain that you can produce “exactly what they would have said if they were somehow in your fic.” That is impossible. You’re just trying to evoke a character, and if you get a few turns of phrase to ring true, you’re doing great.
6. A lot of these people are popular because they are hilarious. Include jokes. Yes, even if your thing is angsty or serious. A lot of the most serious lore I can think of from, e.g., the Dream SMP or 3rd Life or the QSMP - the really story-defining, life-and-death moments - were absolutely hysterical. If you’re writing characters who are usually funny, then add some humor. It can heighten angst via contrast and a sense of realism. Ask yourself what a funny streamer would make jokes about if they were possessing a character in this situation.
7. Some people have the mystical ability to “hear” character voices in their head, and read things in their voice. If you can, do this with all of your dialogue during the editing process. This won’t always get you there, but sometimes it can catch things that sound wrong by invoking "that's really hard to imagine them saying". If you don’t have this power, try recruiting a friend who does.
8. So there’s dialogue and then there’s narration that’s still from a character’s point of view. I’ve mostly given you tips about dialogue, but a lot of this is also true for narration. IMO, narration is less about phrasing things the way the subject would, and more about recreating the way they think. I don’t have concrete rules on how to do this, but here is my wisdom:
You can get eloquent again - narration is more of an abstract and artistic process than dialogue.
Spend time with your subject’s source material.
Pay attention to what they notice and care about. How do you think they think?
Don’t be afraid to get weird with it.
That last one also applies to all art ever.
9. MCYT tends to give you a great boon you don’t see in other media: what the speaker says to their chat/audience when nobody else is listening. This can be incredibly characterizing even if you’re writing a story where people don’t have chats. It’s your person talking about their thought processes and feelings! Mine that shit.
10. Some questions that might help guide both characterizing narration and dialogue (that you’d get from dialogue):
How open are they about their feelings?
How often do they lie? What do they lie about?
What kind of metaphors do they use, if any?
How quickly does their mood change?
How can you tell when they’re in different moods?
What kind of things do they pay attention to?
How formal is their speech?
11. Finally, this is a little odd, but I find it’s much, much easier to write a character that sounds good if I, the author, like them and am rooting for them at least a little bit. If a character needs to be there who you don’t love, try to love them. Or at least get a sense of what other people love about them. It just makes everything else easier. I swear to god.
Happy writing out there!
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dottores · 10 months
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HELIOTROPES
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine.
notes: GUYS THIS IS MY FAV CHAPTER IVE WRITTEN SO FAR HDFISHDFSUAFDSDF
THE TIES THAT BIND
It was him. Distantly, his words resounded through your head but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t understand what he had asked you—his words sounded garbled and clear at the same time, as if he was speaking in an ancient language you couldn’t decipher. 
It was him, your soulmate, the man you had been waiting your whole life to finally meet, the man that the gods had tied you with.
The man that ignored you all of these years no matter how hard you tried. 
The man that attacked you at the inn. 
Any elation you might have felt whittled away the longer you stared at him, anger and anxiety beginning to take hold instead. What had he said? The Second Harbinger? You felt unnerved, you had a feeling that you would somehow run into your soulmate while trying to find the evidence to condemn your stepfather but you had no idea he would be… this. 
This is good, the more logical part of you tried to push through the turmoil of emotions you felt, you can use his position, this is your in. 
But nothing about you was logical right now—part of you wanted to pull away, part of you wanted to slap him, and part of you wanted to throw yourself in his arms and grant yourself the warmth you’d been denied for so long. The divide in what you wanted to do had you frozen in place, unable to do anything. 
Dance with me, he had said—phrased as a question but somehow you knew it wasn’t one. 
Thin fingers wrapped around your other arm, Artem forcing your attention back to him, a worried expression directed toward you. “You don’t have to,” he said, and you swore the temperature in the room dropped at his words—maybe it was just a figment of your imagination due to the eerily cold feeling that swept through you, something that was clearly his and not yours, but from the way Artem and his cousins tensed, you thought it might not be. 
He was angry, you couldn’t see it on his face—you could barely see his face, his mask hiding it from view, but you could feel it in your gut, an emotion that wasn’t yours pushing to the surface and threatening to break through. But it was more than just anger: if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought it was jealousy… a part of you wanted to feed into it to test the theory but you had a distinct feeling that would end with Artem being killed and he had been nothing but kind and helpful to you and you didn’t want to risk him like that. 
“It’s okay,” you said tightly, a thin and unkind smile edging at your lips as you pulled your arm from his grasp and let Dottore lead you out to the large, empty floor in the center of the room, all eyes on the two of you. 
Your chest constricted as the Doctor pulled you just a bit closer than the acceptable dancing distance as the two of you found a place on the tiled floor—one hand sliding behind you, fingers dipping low to the small of your back, while the fingers of his other hand intertwined with yours, a more intimate version of the palm-to-palm expected in the Snezhnayan Waltz. 
You thought you should feel different. You thought that your chest should be light and you thought your heart should be skipping beats, adoring and enthralled, lost in the moment of finally meeting him… but all you could muster was a sense of dread. This man had never cared for you before—not to meet you, not to get to know you, not even to give into your childish desire to play the tugging game with him. In his eyes, you had probably forced his hand by coming here, even if it hadn’t been your intention.
“What game are you playing?” he asked, voice cold and unfriendly, but you were barely paying attention to him now, gaze wandering as other pairs began to make their way to the floor at the sight of you and Dottore, the necessary signal they needed to know it was now acceptable to dance. “Dance with me.”
“I am,” you replied, your surroundings blurring again as you focused back on him. “I’m not playing games.”
You were sure that the smile on his lips would not have met his eyes were they visible. “Yet you are here,” Dottore replied, the ensemble getting louder and the chatter across the floor masking your conversation from unwanted ears. “Somehow managing to track me down so you can force me into acknowledging you.”
You couldn’t bite back the scoff that rose to your chest. “How self important,” you said coolly. “Do you really think I have any interest in meeting you after all the years you spent ignoring me?”
You did, you corrected yourself silently, but he didn’t have to know that. It was humiliating enough to admit to yourself that even after all of the blatant neglect and lack of interest, you still had longed for meeting him, no matter how far down you might’ve pushed that desire. 
His lip twitched—the only physical reaction you managed to draw from him thus far but even then, you couldn’t tell if he was irritated or surprised. “Then why are you here?” he asked and for a moment, you regretted your quick tongue. You should have gone along with the lovesick soulmate act so that you would have an excuse as to why you had come to Snezhnaya but you were more focused on your pride than your mission. 
Now, you fumbled—a damning mistake—as you said: “None of your business.”
“Ah, but alas it is my business,” Dottore did not fumble like you did, an empty smile painted on his lips as he watched you from beneath the mask. You felt uncomfortable, you didn’t like not being able to see people’s eyes when you spoke to them. “You see, I was sent to figure out why you are here and if your answer is not to my liking, I am meant to… dispose of you. Now, if you would like me to help you, I suggest you answer my question.”
You took in a sharp breath—one that you couldn’t quite hide from him as you realized that you had been wrong. You had hoped that the eyes you had felt on you earlier were just him, that he had been the one to recognize you, but this confirmed that was not the case. The other Harbingers knew who you were and suddenly, the room felt all the more suffocating. 
Dottore leaned down, lips brushing your ear and breath warm against your skin. “Don’t you feel their eyes on you?” he murmured. “They’re waiting for my decision, I do implore you to start speaking.”
He leaned back just a bit but now you couldn’t keep your eyes trained on his face, too aware of all of the gazes set on you. You could feel Artem’s eyes heavy on you from the other side of the room, they hadn’t left your body once since Dottore had led you to the dancefloor, following the two of you as you spun across the floor in step with the other partners, but he wasn’t the only one. 
Your eyes flickered behind Dottore to where the dark haired girl dressed in white was sitting at the piano, fingers flying across the keys as she played an eerie tune that didn’t quite match the tempo or energy of the Snezhnayan Waltz—the lace over her eyes blocked them from sight but her head was turned in the direction of the two of you. A taller woman with silvery hair leaned on the instrument next to her, blatantly watching the two of you. 
There were too many eyes on you—even who you could assume were newly promoted Fatui captains were glancing your way, the other pairs on the dancefloor kept sparing looks in your direction, giving you a wide berth. You thought you were used to the feeling of being watched, after all in Fontaine, you couldn’t even step outside your quarters without the eyes of justice bearing down on you.
Dottore suddenly cleared his throat, forcing your attention back to him. “Is it not common courtesy to give your dancing partner your full attention?” he drawled. 
“Clearly you’re undeserving of my attention considering you can’t even hold it,” your tongue lashed before you could think. Instead of regretting your words, you doubled down. “It appears you’re not fond of being ignored, how fascinating.” 
How hypocritical, you didn’t have to speak what you meant for him to understand. Dottore let out a huff of amusement but you knew very well that he was not amused if the way his hand tensed on the small of your back had anything to say about it. 
“How ungrateful,” Dottore said quietly, the empty smile on his lips not faltering for even a second, “even when I’m going out of my way to try to make sure you stay alive.”
“We both know that you only want me alive for your own sake,” you countered, taking a small leap in speculation. You knew he didn’t care for you but the consequences of losing a soulmate could range from dire to lethal, if you knew anything about him, you knew that was not something he would want to risk. 
“Clearly I did not ignore you well enough.” 
The smile finally fell—he didn’t like that you could read him the way that you were, although you would argue that you weren’t reading him at all, just placing together the few puzzle pieces he had left for you to complete a small section, the majority of the puzzle was still empty. 
“You-” you began, but you were forced to cut yourself off, eyes darting down as you realized that Dottore had purposefully taken a wrong step in the waltz—subtle enough so that others wouldn’t notice his fault, but just enough so that if you took the correct step, you would twist your ankle over his foot. 
He’s trying to make a fool out of you, fury flooded you at the realization, shifting your foot just to the right so that you could avoid his. The next step of the dance, a half-spin of a turn, was jerky and sharp because of it, veering off track and into the path of a nearby woman and her partner, who were forced to scramble out of your way or risk drawing the Doctor’s ire.
Dottore’s lip twitched up when he realized that you hadn’t fallen for his trick and the waltz continued smoothly, returning to the graceful spins and turns and steps that the two of you had been dancing in tune with before his attempt at making you humiliate yourself. 
“I’ve been patient enough,” he said. “It’s time for you to answer my question.”
Your lip curled in annoyance, searching for an answer to give him before your silence became prolonged and suspicious.
“I’m looking for something,” you said simply. This time, you didn’t have to look down to know he had taken another false step—instead of having to shift at the last second and fall into another jarring turn, you altered the direction of the turn, spinning out just a bit further than was expected of the dance and forcing him to follow. 
“For what?” Dottore didn’t give you a second to recuperate or think and you forced yourself not to bite the inside of your cheek, irritated at the game he was playing no matter how much he might deny playing one should you ask. He was forcing you to focus more on the dance with his purposefully wrong steps so you couldn’t concentrate on coming up with coherent lies. 
For what? That was the question. What should you tell him? The truth? What would he do with it? Could you trust him? You doubted it, but you could trust in his self-preservation at least—you didn’t think he would do anything to damn you because that would mean damning himself. But would he get in your way? Maybe, if only to see you stumble. 
Finally, you spoke, and the words felt weighted on your tongue, mouth dry: “The Fatui killed my father.”
“And you’ve come for evidence. How noble,” Dottore mocked you—if he hated how you could deduce that he didn’t care for your survival beyond for his own sake, you hated even more that he had put together your whole reason for being in Snezhnaya just from the one sentence. “The Hydro Archon is so arrogant that she fails to see foreign threats within her own walls, forcing you to venture into a den of wolves to acquire the proof yourself. What a magnificent god.”
Again, you found sharp words leaving your lips in defense of your nation and Archon: “Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats,” you noted off-handedly at the hypocrisy, dancing around another targeted step and forcing another pair of dancers to dodge the two of you—the Hydro Archon might be blind the Snezhnayan spy that was your stepfather, but at least there wasn’t an entire organization working beneath her nose and in her court. 
“What exactly does that mean?” Dottore asked—was that confirmation that the Harbingers were unaware of the masked group that had approached you and the aristocrats? Or was it just Dottore trying to figure out how much you knew? Or maybe it was both. 
“Take it as you will,” you answered, eyes narrowing as instead of continuing the dance, he came to a stop in the middle of the floor.
His hand was still pressed to your lower back, holding your body close to his even as you tried to step away. You hated how you had to turn your head up to look at him and you hated the smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at you. Distantly, you noticed that the music had come to an end as the ensemble prepared for another dance. 
“You’re not what I expected,” he said after a moment of silence, releasing your hand only to bring his to your face when you looked away. He used two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head up in his direction, forcing you to look at him. “I’ll find you again.”
A promise or a threat? You couldn’t tell, throat thick and swollen as he stood straight again, stepping away from you and looking behind you. You looked over your shoulder, eyes falling upon Artem as he walked up to the two of you. 
“Your second dance?” he asked quietly, holding his hand out toward you. You took the escape gratefully and yet somehow, a part of you felt empty as soon as you stepped away from Dottore, a primal and fundamental part of you knew you were meant to be with him and was unhappy with your decision.
You wondered if he felt it too. 
“Are you okay?” Artem questioned as soon as your hand was in his and you stood in position for the next dance—an acceptable distance, unlike how close Dottore had drawn you in. 
You glanced back to look at him as you murmured out a ‘yes’ to Artem, but he was already gone.
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His hands were tingling. 
This wasn't right, he wanted to spit out in protest of the way his body was reacting to you—itching to walk back over and rip you away from the Snezhnayan aristocrat who had the audacity to lay hands on what was his. 
His. The word echoed through his head, condemning—he was already beginning thinking like them, like a mortal, an irrational beast that cared for naught but personal pleasure, latching onto someone with the barest interaction. But no matter how much he tried to deny the attachment, his body was betraying him, begging him to turn back for another dance so he could feel your skin against his again.
He thought it might be different, he had abandoned his original body for an artificial one. He thought it could lessen the effects of the bond but he should’ve known better—having an artificial body did not change the fact that his mark had appeared on him, it didn’t change the fact that there was a thread connecting him to you. 
He should’ve known this would only make it worse. 
Dottore didn’t dare look back, no matter how much his body ached for one last look, he needed to retain some semblance of control over himself and he knew that if he looked back now, he would not like what he saw. His teeth ground together at the thought, scraping against his tongue. He imagined the aristocrat’s hand inching down your back, his fingers intertwined with yours. He imagined your body pressed close to his—a slower song was playing, a more intimate one, one that he should be dancing with you to.
As soon as the final thought crossed his mind, he nearly rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he made his way toward the other Harbingers.
“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” one said, voice cold and mocking, Dottore’s eyes lifted to Arlecchino.
“Thoroughly,” Dottore replied, dry and sarcastic to mask the fact that yes, he had enjoyed his dance with you.
You were not what he expected. Your tongue was sharp and violent whereas he had thought you to be a docile noble girl, sheltered in the palace of Fontaine City. He could still see that part of you, thinly veiled behind the anger in your eyes; the part of you that longed for the sanctity of the bond between a fated pair, the part of you that still had hope things could work out. He wondered if that was the part of you that you showed to everyone else, the gentleness and the kindness. He thought so, if the way you looked at Artem Melnyk had anything to say about it. 
Then, he wondered if your violence was reserved only for him—for some reason, the thought left him pleased, smothering the way the corner of his lips twitched up. 
“Well?” Sandrone said sharply, garnering the attention of the Harbingers in the area. To Dottore’s absolute displeasure, he noticed that both the Balladeer and the Friar had come closer to listen in, two wolves drawn in by the scent of blood. 
You could keep up with him too, every attempt he had made to make you stumble, you caught and readjusted. He had never met anyone that could keep up with him the way you were able to—most didn’t even dare to try, backing down at the mere sight of him, and those that did tended to not be able to hold their bravado for long—even if it was just boldness because you knew that as your soulmate, it’d be unlikely he would do anything to put you at risk.
“A fawn,” Dottore told her coolly, “just as I said. You wasted my time, and my patience. You can explain to the Jester why I decided to leave the event early.”
Dottore thought you were closer to a wolf pup than a fawn, bearing your teeth against greater predators instead of fleeing because you thought yourself more dangerous than you really were—he wasn’t going to tell them that though.
Sandrone did not look convinced at his words. “Perhaps I should go talk to her,” she said doubtfully. 
Unamused, Dottore turned his full attention onto her. “You doubt me?” he asked, an edge to his tone that he dared her to push further. Sandrone looked at him but didn’t respond, he continued: “All she cared for was her first dance with her fiancé being interrupted. Air-headed and dimwitted—whatever you think that girl is, she is not.”
Dottore studied Sandrone from beneath his mask, wondering if she would push even further, but she only shook her head and walked away in the direction of the Captain, clearly unhappy but dropping it, for now at least. 
Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats, your words ran through his head again as Sandrone pushed past him. What did you mean? It was a dig at the Tsaritsa, that much was certain but what threat was the Fatui missing that was within their own walls? Could it be the aristocrats? If so, you were a fool to think that they weren’t addressing the more hostile families already… but somehow, Dottore knew that you were talking about something else, something far more worrisome. 
… and that begged the question of how you even knew of it when they, clearly, did not.  
Finally, Dottore’s gaze drew back to the dance floor where you were dancing slowly with the dark-haired aristocrat, arms draped around his shoulders as you swayed to the slow music. You were talking quietly to him, hushed, heads leaned into each other so no one could overhear the two of you. You looked far more at ease with him than you had been with Dottore, your shoulders lax instead of tense, your body loose instead of stiff. That feeling from before—ugly and green—resurfaced. 
“Sandrone,” Dottore finally said, stopping the lower-ranked Harbinger in her tracks, “if you’re so suspicious of her, then why don’t we keep her in the palace for a few days under observation? That way, we can figure out whether or not Fontaine is declaring war or not and handle it duly.”
A risk, Dottore noted, they’re going to wonder why he cares so much, but he thought it was a worthy one. He could knock two birds with one stone: separate his soulmate from her apparent fiancé and try to figure out what the cryptic comment meant. He couldn’t help but notice the long look exchanged by Arlecchino and Brighella, as if they knew something that he did not.
Sandrone hesitated, eyes narrowing for a moment before she nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.”
“And who, exactly, is going to care for this girl?” Brighella, voice high and reedy, interjected himself into the conversation. “Heh… if you’d like-”
“I’ll do it,” another voice interrupted as fury knotted Dottore’s insides so intensely that he thought he might lash out at the vulture. Pantalone was the one to step forward, eyes turned upward and a thin smile pulled tight across his lips, “I’d like to pick at her brains for her thoughts on the aristocrats anyway. I’m sure she’ll have some sort of insight.”
Dottore watched Pantalone carefully, trying to figure out what sort of game he was playing. He made sure that she wasn’t killed on the spot before—not that Dottore would have let that happen, but he would’ve been forced to reveal who exactly you were to him and he didn’t want to open up that weakness. He wanted something and from the way his smile fell and his violet eyes went cold, looking at Dottore as the Harbingers began talking amongst each other, he knew it was nothing good. 
Irritated, Dottore cast a cold look in your direction—one way or another, he was constantly being backed into a corner because of you. But looking at you was a mistake, evidently, because the annoyance swelled as he watched the aristocrat smile at you as you swooped under his arm in a dramatic spin.
Dottore shook his head as he looked away, rolling his eyes beneath his mask as he stifled the vile emotions rearing their head at the sight. As he turned his attention back to the discussion at hand, listening to them talk about the approaching missions, Dottore wondered if he should try to make his exit now, leave Pantalone to deal with her now that he had kindly offered to—the less interaction with her, the better, he thought, even though his body shrieked in protest—and he wanted to get back to the lab anyway. The Theta segment was down there alone and quite frankly, he didn’t trust him around his stuff. 
Alas, he did not get the chance to slip away. As he moved to turn, he noticed that Pantalone was nodding for him to follow.
Dottore bit back a sigh—you, Pantalone, the other Harbingers—this was all going to cut into his research, he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get anything done for quite a bit. 
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“What was that all about?” Artem asked you quietly as the music began to pick up again, masking your voices—it was a slower dance, one that was far less demanding than the waltz with the Doctor, who had you struggling to keep up mentally and physically. 
You were lucky that Miss Elyna had been so strict with your dancing lessons, not only did she prepare you by teaching you all of the popular dances amongst aristocrats across the seven nations but she also forced you to know how to dance with an incompetent partner so that the you were not made to look like a fool in public. 
Dottore was not an incompetent partner by any means, but he surely was a malicious one. 
“They’re suspicious of me,” you said softly, watching his expression twist into one that bordered between shocked and horrified, confirming what you already knew—you were not in a good place. 
But he didn’t know that you weren’t in the worst place, you couldn’t tell him about your relationship to Dottore. You didn’t know how he would react and you needed him on your side for the duration of this event. You figured that Dottore wouldn’t let them kill you, at least for his own sake, but there were fates worse than death and the thought of that made your skin crawl.
“After this song, we’ll head over to my father, I’ll ask him what to do,” Artem said, nodding to himself. “They can’t do anything, not without risking our support and our support is the only support they have amongst all of the Snezhnayan nobles. So unless they want every single aristocratic family against them…”
Your eyes drew across the room briefly, at the captains and the elite members of the Fatui lingering around the floor and dancing with their partners, at the Harbingers still lurking on the outskirts of the room, some still looking in your direction. There were so many of them and you didn’t have to face them in combat to know that they were all strong, the Harbingers alone reeked of power.
“... if you tell your father, he’ll be upset,” you finally said, voice low—you hadn’t phrased it as a question but you supposed it was one.
“He’ll be livid,” Artem confirmed, jaw tightening. “They… they all think that I’m going to propose to you soon—they were upset that I hadn’t introduced you sooner but they’ve been waiting for me to get married for three years now. If the Fatui try to do something to you…”
Maybe you shouldn’t say anything then, you wanted to say, but the words were stuck in your mouth. The Fatui were strong, you thought again. Artem had claimed that they host these events as a show of power, to force the aristocrats to understand just who they were dealing with, and even from this glimpse you knew that the threat the Fatui posed was beyond anything that the elites of the Fontaine court and the Hydro Archon imagined. 
You wondered, then, why did they not take control of Snezhnaya through sheer force alone? They could do it, surely, the Harbingers themselves could probably handle it on their own. You figured that the aristocrats held a lot of sway amongst the common people—if it was anything like the structure of the Fontaine countryside where each town was centered around one of the aristocrats' estates—and from there, you could assume that the Fatui did not want to rule their own people through fear. 
But you feared that if push came to shove, the Fatui would have no issue slamming their iron fist down upon the people of Snezhnaya and if that was the case, you didn’t want that blood on your hands because Artem had rushed to the defense of a girl he barely knows… especially because you thought if he knew who exactly your soulmate was, he wouldn’t be so quick to help you. 
“Don’t tell them,” you finally said, mouth dry, glancing away as you continued, “whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. Don’t risk pissing the Fatui off even more.”
Artem’s brows knit together. “What?” he asked, voice hushed. “You have no idea what they’re capable of, what they’ll do to you and if the Doctor of all Harbingers is interested in you then-”
“I’m not a helpless girl, Artem,” you said sharply, careful to keep your voice low. “I will do what I must to survive, you need to focus on…”
Your family, the other nobles, this organization that’s pulling all of the strings. Let me deal with this, it’s my mission.
Artem didn’t look happy, shaking his head again. “I didn’t say you were helpless,” he said, lowering his voice even more as he leaned his head down to you. To all others, you thought it probably looked romantic, but you could feel his arms tense around you, “but you can’t do this alone. They’ll find you out and-and you don’t want to know what they’ll do when they do.”
There was a haunted expression on his face, as if he had personal experience with the Fatui and what they would do to the people that actively worked against them. There was a pit in your stomach as you looked away—guilt, anxiety, maybe something else or a combination of both, knowing who your soulmate was and how even though Artem was terrified of him, he still was trying to defend you against him. 
“I need to use the restroom to freshen up,” you said, changing the subject abruptly—you didn’t want to talk about this anymore, if the Fatui were already onto you, you were running out of time to do what you needed to do. 
You didn’t want to rely on Dottore, not if you didn’t have to. 
Artem stared at you for a long moment before sighing, arm slipping around your waist as he guided you back to the front of the room toward the wide double doors that led to the entrance hall, “There’s only two ways in and out of here, the only other way…”
You glanced backward to another door on the opposite side of the room—the only way to get to it would be to walk past several Harbingers and that was simply not going to happen, not when a few of them were clearly suspicious of you already. You could only hope that they missed you slipping out of the hall but somehow, you doubted they would. 
Reaching the doors, you raised your eyebrows when neither of the Fatui subordinates moved out of your way. Artem stepped forward, slightly in front of you.
“Is there an issue?” Artem asked coldly, motioning to the door. “Are the hinges not working properly? They seemed just fine before. My lady needs to freshen up.”
The two men exchanged a long look with one another before shifting out of the way, albeit a bit reluctantly. You looked back at Artem, squeezing his arm, “I’ll be right back.”
And if I’m not, don’t come looking. 
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“They’re a lovely couple, hm?” Pantalone smiled as the two of them walked the length of the ballroom. Dottore’s jaw clenched, irritation skyrocketing when he continued, “They look very happy together, don’t they?”
“Very,” Dottore agreed dryly, not letting the man get a rise out of him like he wanted, but unlike Pantalone, he did not look in your direction. 
Instead, he kept his gaze trained forward, mind-racing as he tried to figure out what Pantalone might want from him. If he had to guess, it was going to be something with the residue research and creating a stronger delusion for him but the man was as unpredictable as the wind—there was no telling what demands would spew from his mouth. 
“Do you think that’s why she was ignoring you?” Pantalone asked, trying to gossip like a pair of old wives as if they weren’t talking about his soulmate. “She finally found someone better and doesn’t want anything to do with you?” 
Dottore didn’t think that was the case. He finally looked back over to where you were dancing with the aristocrat. You looked comfortable with him, but not happy, and you looked safe with him, but not hopeful—not the way you had been with him, at least. You had been tense and stressed but there was no denying that lingering hope that swam behind your eyes, as much as you tried to hide it with your sharp tongue and harsh jabs. 
Dottore had never been able to read people well—he compensated with intimidation—but it came naturally when looking at you, probably because of the bond. He didn’t know whether or not to be appreciative of it or to resent it because you could clearly read him as well as he could read you and the thought of that left him uncomfortable.
“No,” Dottore finally said after a few moments of silence. “I think she was ignoring me to be petty.”
It appears you’re not fond of being ignored. How fascinating. 
He had recognized the underlying message, calling him a hypocrite—he wouldn’t put it past you to have spent the past two weeks ignoring him after he finally reached out to you just to be spiteful.
“Not quite the air-headed and dimwitted fawn you described to the others then,” Pantalone drawled, smile widening as he finally looked at Dottore. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t say anything… but there’s no way the others will fall for the facade once they realize who she is to you. Anyone fated to you is bound to be closer to monster than man.”
That was unacceptable. His chest tightened at his words, a foul feeling swirling his insides. It was not about the implied insult to him, nor was it about the subtle threat of the other Harbingers finding out who you were to him—it was the insult to you, the mocking comment Pantalone made calling you closer to monster than man. That was not acceptable.
And then he realized what he was doing, getting defensive over you for no reason at all. Careful, he told himself, this was what he hadn’t wanted. 
He pushed it away, again, focusing on the issue at hand. 
“Was she everything you hoped?” Pantalone pressed, a sardonic smile twisting his lips as he watched you.
More, Dottore answered silently. You were beyond anything he had imagined, but he kept his answer to himself, “What do you want, Regrator?”
“Fair exchange,” Pantalone spoke of the policy he had lived by since the day Dottore met him and Dottore knew that he wasn’t going to like this. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of it, that thin thread of control waning as it always did when he got the upperhand on someone. “I am owed. Our previous exchange has been fulfilled—you brought me into the Fatui and helped me obtain my position, I gave you better funding and support in meetings. This is the start of a new exchange. Twice now, I’ve protected her and now, I’ve brought her in so that you weren’t exposed. I am owed.”
“What do you want?” Dottore repeated again, unperturbed by Pantalone’s demeanor, wanting to get this conversation over with. “The residue research? One of my segments to help with your missions?”
“The prototype for the new delusion,” Pantalone said. Dottore raised his eyebrows—it’s a prototype for a reason, on his lips but he decided against it. If the Regrator wanted to use the prototype, all the better for Dottore: he would be able to study how he reacts to it, and how it reacts to him. “And a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine City.”
Dottore tilted his head, “How exactly do you expect me to help with that? Just take one of the segments and tell them what to do.”
Pantalone smiled again but this time, it was colder—the same smile he directed at the other Harbingers when they pissed him off. His head turned in the direction of where you were dancing with the aristocrat and then he asked, voice amused: “You didn’t think I was helping her for your sake, did you?”
There it is. 
Dottore stared at Pantalone emptily from beneath his mask. He had expected this from the moment he had initially offered his help in finding you, he knew there would be a catch but he did not think it would have to do with you. 
A branch of the Northland Bank set up in Fontaine City. What would that entail from you? Information on the court that only the upper echelon of aristocrats would know? Weaknesses and holes in their defenses? Either way, it would entail betraying your nation and he had a feeling you wouldn’t do that… which meant he would somehow have to get the information from you to pass it on to Pantalone, which meant he would have to betray you. For some reason, the thought left him feeling uneasy. 
“Very well,” he agreed. “Consider it done.”
Pleased, Pantalone looked back out to the ballroom floor.
“Oh?” he noted. “She’s on the move.”
Dottore’s head snapped to the side, eyes searching the floor until they landed on where the aristocrat was leading you through the hall and to the entrance of the room.
What were you doing? He had a bad feeling, exhaling as he waited. Were you really going to go out and try to find the evidence you wanted now? Right after he had told you that the Harbingers have their eye on you? You couldn’t be that stupid… unless you were trying to rush to do it before he could get involved but that would be ridiculous.
Dottore’s eyes followed you until the doors of the ballroom shut behind you and you were gone from sight. He didn’t bother explaining to Pantalone where he was going, turning on his heel and made his way to the door on the opposite side of the room, closer to where he and Pantalone were standing.
The Fatui subordinates scattered at his approach, allowing an easy exit for him. Pantalone followed, much to his distaste, but he supposed this way it didn’t look as suspicious. As soon as he pushed the door open, a rush of cold air met him—a welcome escape from the stuffiness of the ballroom and the endless chatter of the aristocrats and the music and all of the overwhelming noise.
The hall was dimly lit by candles mounted on the walls, there was no one in the hall besides them—Dottore assumed that you had turned down the hall on the right instead, heading to the washroom. 
Was that what you were doing? Faking going to the washroom so you could slip away and search? Why weren’t their subordinates lining the halls to make sure people couldn’t do that? 
“Are you going after her?” Pantalone asked, amused, slinking up beside him. Dottore gave him a cold look from the corner of his eye. “Relax, I won’t interfere.”
Dottore wasn’t sure how much he believed that but he didn’t have time to call him out for it. He wanted to get to you before you did something stupid. He gave Pantalone one last look before making his way down the hall in the direction of the washroom, turning left down two different halls until he was on the opposite side of the ballroom—just as he came to a stop outside of the door, it opened.
“There you are.”
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REBLOGS APPRECIATED
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✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯
jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au
summary:
It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—
“Did you hear what happened?”
“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”
“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”
“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”
“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”
“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”
“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”
“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”
But Regulus had heard enough.
He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.
Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.
The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.
He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.
So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?
Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.
Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.
“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.
Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”
Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”
“Wasn’t a compliment,”
Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”
“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”
“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.
Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”
“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”
“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.
Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”
Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Barty smirks at him, “You will,”
There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.
Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.
“Looking good, Potter!”
“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.
Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.
Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?
Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.
“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.
“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”
James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”
“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.
When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.
There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.
James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.
“So, Regulus,” he starts.
“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.
He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.
A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.
“My eyes are up here, love.”
His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.
James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.
“You’re blushing,” he notices.
Regulus' face is practically red at this point.
“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.
“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.
It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.
“What do you want?”
“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”
“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.
“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”
Regulus frowns. “Right now?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”
James smirks, “I think I will manage,”
This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”
James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.
Regulus does, of course he does.
Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.
Together.
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magentasdoodles · 1 month
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So in @novalizinpeace’s poppy playtime au, specifically in the cartoon portion, the critters have these magic pendants that give them certain abilities. This isn’t limited to the gang, and all sorts of different pendants exist for different characters, but there’s a catch.
In this post, they talk about how if the magic in the pendant overwhelms a critter, it can transform them into a myth, a magical, monstrous being with incredible power, but can sometimes be incredibly dangerous to the people around them.
So I decided to take the 8 main critters and turn them into horrible little beasties for my amusement, and now I wish to show you guys the fruits of my labor.
tw for mild body horror and psychological horror under the cut
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Dogday - Sol
This is the only ‘canon’ myth critter that exists in the au. Every time Dogday is pushed past his limit and gets too angry with something he transforms into sol, who is a mindless flaming warrior with no logic or regard for their surroundings. This leads to them being pretty dangerous to be around, but Sol isn’t evil, they just want to protect their user from any harm, and if left to their own devices, would probably self-isolate to protect themselves (and others) from harm.
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2. Hoppy Hopscotch - Notus
The first of my original designs. Notus is the transformed version of Hoppy, and has the same weather manipulation powers, just to a much larger degree. Although she mostly uses it to make her storms larger. Notus’s mental state is much more stable than Sol (relatively), specifically in that she can remember her past life, but not specific people, so friends and even family are hardly whispers in her mind, if even that. She is quite competitive, viewing her storms as a contest to see how big she can make them, and will never back down from a challenge, doing everything in her power to win, but she is also a graceful loser, and hates cheaters. Her name comes from the Greek god of south winds, who is associated with wetness and the coming of rains.
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3. Bubba bubbaphant - Ganesha
This guy’s name comes from the Hindu deity of new beginnings and the patron of the sciences and arts, who is also represented by a man with an elephant’s head and four arms. His mental state is similar to that of Notus, in that he can remember specific events from his past, but not people. He has become incredibly intelligent, being able to solve complex equations and understand lots of different subjects, but his already prevalent neuroticism has been turned up to eleven, with even the slightest infraction driving him to a rage, which can make him incredibly dangerous to deal with, but also rewarding, as his intellect allows him to answer many questions. He can also spin webs, because spider.
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4. Bobby Bearhug - Callisto
Callisto is a little different from the other myths. She can remember her name, and her past, and the people around her, but only sometimes. You see, her pendant’s natural power is to absorb the excess emotion around her, and it still does that, but if she absorbs to much, then it leads to her transformation into a massive bear like monster with one goal, to make the excess stop by any means necessary. This has led to her voluntary exile in order to stop herself from hurting the people around her, which causes Bobby a great deal of pain, but it’s better than letting herself hurt the people she cares about the most. Her name comes from a nymph who was transformed into (what else) a bear by a furious Hera.
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5. Pickypiggy - Limos
Unlike most of the others, Limos can hardly remember who she once was, much less the people in her life or what they mean to her. Instead she is driven by her one deepest instinct: to care and provide for the people around her. She works tirelessly to cook and prepare extravagant meals for anyone who might need it, leading to her neglecting her own health and her living environment. She also has to deal with a ravenous hunger that pains her every moment, and often leads her to devouring her dishes as soon as she finished, causing even further distress. Her name comes from the Greek goddess of starvation, which i don’t think is a very good comparison, but I can’t think of anything better, so eh.
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6. KickinChicken - The Roc
Kickin’s transformed state is probably the least actively dangerous to be around. He’s a large, powerful bird capable of flying incredibly fast, as well as being incredibly loud and aggressive, but never actively harmful. His mental state is kind of the opposite of Notus and Ganesha, in that he can remember specific people and places, but not his past nor his name, and goes out of his way to try and help others. The key word being ‘try’, as his loud and aggressive demeanor often end up causing more damage than assistance. His name comes from an Arabian creature that is described as a bird of prey large enough to carry an elephant, which I thought was a good choice, and I couldn’t find any mythological chickens that really fit him.
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7. Craftycorn - Apophis
Her name comes from an Egyptian monster that is said to be the embodiment of chaos and disorder, although Crafty is significantly less malevolent than her mythological counterpart. The main effect of her presence is the chaotic shifting of her environment, colors swapping and shapes changing into maelstrom of chaos around her, with the effect getting stronger the closer you get towards her, and any critter who does so has the very real risk of being torn apart. Apophis herself isn’t doing much better, with her entire body constantly melting into multicolored goop that has a consistency similar to that of candle wax. Not much is known about her mental state, as no one is brave enough to get close to her for risk of being killed, but there has to be something left of her as her maelstrom very much has the capacity to expand over the entire world and destroy it, the only reason it hasn’t is because Crafty appears to be holding it back through sheer force of willpower.
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8. Catnap - Ouranos
Ouranos is probably the one who’s the most ‘in there’, besides Callisto in her non murder mode. He can remember his past life quite clearly and the people in them. In fact the only difference between him and normal Catnap is that Ouranos is slightly more apathetic towards outside events. He’s floated off into space and now observes to world from the heavens, watching as everything drifts by, because he can’t exactly leave. He can, however, see his friends suffering, and wishes he had the capability to help them in any way he could.
Once again thanks to @novalizinpeace for the au and all concepts belong to her.
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beskarandblasters · 7 months
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Mothman Fever
Mothman!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist
Author’s note: Shout out to @nostalxgic for making this killer graphic for me!! Also the kick ass banners and !!Mothman!! dividers are by @saradika!! This was my first time writing any sort of monster fucking so let me know how I did!!
Summary: You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.
Word count: 5.6k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no outbreak, drinking, semi public sex, use of pet names (luna lol), oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, sex pollen, dub con, monsterfucking, no use of y/n
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“Don’t you think Mothman is kinda hot?”
You glance at your friend Tara in the rear view mirror and raise your eyebrow. 
“How can a moth be hot?”
“Oh, come on! You know he’s not a normal moth… he’s got like… muscular legs,” Janelle, your other friend, chimes in from the passenger's seat. 
“You don’t wanna fuck Mothman?” Tara asks. 
“... No? And you do?”
“How can you be a Mothmanner and not wanna fuck him?” she continues.
“Mothmanner?” you snort.
“Mothman enthusiast, whatever you wanna call it.”
“Not really. I’m more interested in him for scientific purposes.”
“That just leaves more of him for us, Tara,” Janelle says.
“Yeah, after you examine him for research we’ll tag team him.”
“You guys are gross,” you say, rolling your eyes. 
Janelle grabs your phone connected to your car through the aux and opens Spotify, searching for a song.
“Whatcha playin’?” you ask.
“Just a silly little diddy. Perfect driving song.”
The sound of a creaking door and a bubbling sound comes through your car speakers. You know exactly what she chose. As the drums kick in you ask, “Really? The Monster Mash?”
“It’s festive,” she shrugs.
“Oh yeah, turn that shit up,” Tara adds.
You roll your eyes and turn up the volume. You take the Point Pleasant exit off the highway and the anticipation brews in your stomach. You’re into all sorts of cryptids but there’s something different and intriguing about Mothman specifically that you can’t put your finger on. You’ve been picturing this moment for a long time but… not with Monster Mash playing in the background. 
Janelle turns down the music and says, “Look what I found on Facebook! There’s a group Mothman stakeout tomorrow night at the McClintic Wildlife Area. We should go!”
She hands Tara her phone and lets her look at the event details. 
“Sounds like fun. You down?” Tara asks, handing the phone back to Janelle.
“I mean, why not?” you say, entering the residential streets of Point Pleasant. 
To say the city of Point Pleasant is enthusiastic about the Mothman Festival would be an understatement. The city is decked out in decorations and the streets are littered with people in costumes. As you get closer to 4th Street, where the Mothman Museum and the famed Mothman Statue are located, it gets even busier. A black banner hung between two telephone poles reads “Welcome to the 20th Annual Mothman Festival” in white block letters. You drive down the street slowly, careful not to hit any festival goers on your way to your hotel, passing the Mothman Statue before turning onto the street your hotel is on. 
You park your car and hastily grab your bags before heading into the lobby to check in. A hotel like this in Point Pleasant, West Virginia wouldn’t normally cost a lot but it’s Mothman Festival weekend and hotels across the area have jacked up their prices. 
You get your room keys from the desk and head to the room to change quickly before hitting the town. It’s still quite early in the day, only around two in the afternoon and there’s plenty of festivities to be had. You change into a black t-shirt that says “Mothman ate my entire ass at a Denny’s”, a pair of ripped jeans and a pair of converse before heading out with your friends. 
You walk down the street and head to your first stop; the Mothman Statue who is unreasonably buff, complete with a six pack and a tight ass. Each of you take pictures slapping his ass before taking a “normal” group photo standing beside it. 
The next stop is Village Pizza where they have a pizza with toppings arranged to look like Mothman. On the way there you stop and take pictures with other festival goers who are dressed as Mothman, just having a grand ole time. 
You arrive at the pizzeria and get a booth, waiting for a server to come take your order. And that’s when you see him. No, not Mothman but an attractive human man sitting at another booth across the restaurant. You make contact and look away out of shyness. But something about you tells you to look at him again. And when you do you find he’s looking at you still, mouth curving into a smirk when you lock eyes again. This time you notice his features; graying hair, deep brown eyes, and a strong nose. He’s wearing a flannel and leaning forward on the table, resting his elbows on it. He gives you a small wave and you wave back without thinking, prompting Tara to ask, “Who are you waving at?”
“No one,” you say quickly, looking away from the man. 
“Nah, you’re lying. I’m gonna look,” Tara says, starting to turn around. 
“Don’t-” you start but it’s too late. She turns around and spots the man, who also shoots her a wave. 
“Him?” she says, turning back to face you. Janelle turns around, too. And just like with Tara, the man waves to her. 
“And what about it?” you ask. 
“Oh, he’s hot. Go over there and talk to him,” Janelle says. 
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Tara asks. 
“I’m… not that forward.”
“It’s the Mothman Festival, go fucking wild,” Janelle shrugs. 
“Agreed,” Tara nods. 
“Okay, fine. Fine! I’ll go,” you say, sliding out of the boot, legs already feeling like jelly. 
You walk over to him and watch his smirk turn into a full smile. You stand by his table and feel stupid. What kind of person makes eye contact with someone in a restaurant and just decides to boldly introduce themself? What if he’s here with another girl?
“Hi, um, I’m here with my friends and I saw you across the restaurant and I, uh, thought I’d say hello,” you say nervously, feeling even stupider by the end of your pathetic introduction. 
“Hey there. I’m Joel. Would you like to join me?”
“Are you here with anyone?”
“No, just me. My brother was supposed to come but he bailed on me to go to New Jersey.”
You sit down across from him, continuing the conversation.
“Ah so you’re not from around here?”
“No, just here for the festival, like I’m assuming you are,” he says, gesturing to your shirt. 
And now you feel self conscious of what you’re wearing but stupid shirts like this are literally all you fucking packed. 
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s funny.”
“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
“You doing anything tonight?”
“Nothing in particular tonight. But tomorrow night my friends and I are going to that group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area.”
“Oh nice. I’m going to that, too.”
“It sounds like fun!”
“Well if you’re not doing anything tonight maybe I can take you out to the bars tonight. I think some alcohol would loosen you up and make you less shy, Luna.”
“S-sure that sounds like fun. What time?” you ask, heart fluttering at the nickname. 
“Around eight. You staying in the area? I can meet you at your hotel.”
“Sounds good!” 
You tell him the name of your hotel and get up to go back to your friends. 
“And by the way,” he says, stopping you, “I’m Joel.”
You tell him your name but he still chooses to say, “See you tonight, Luna.”
You walk back to your friends and sit in the booth, finding that they already ordered the Mothman pizza and were waiting for you before they started eating. But they didn’t mind. 
“So who is he? What’s his deal?” Tara asks. 
“Uh, his name is Joel and he’s here for the festival.”
“Alone?” Janelle asks. 
“His brother bailed on him to go to Jersey.”
“Who bails on the Mothman Festival to go to New Jersey of all places?” Janelle says. 
“Not sure about that but he asked me to go out tonight.”
“You said yes, right?” Tara questions. 
“I did… Was I not supposed to?”
“No! No, you need to go. Right, Janelle?”
“Agreed.”
“Thanks, guys… He’s also going to McClintic tomorrow night, too.”
“Oooh,” they both say in unison. 
“It’ll be fun,” you say, “But let’s eat and get the other stuff on our list done. I feel bad I’m leaving you guys tonight.”
“Don’t feel bad. He’s hot,” Tara says, taking a bite of her slice of pizza.
“And older,” Janelle says.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’ll see if it even works out.”
“You sell yourself short. You went over and made the first move. And then he asked you out. He’s gotta be interested,” Janelle continues.
“I guess you’re right.”
“I always am,” she laughs.
You finish your pizza and head to the next stop on your list; a local coffee shop called The Coffee Grinder, where they have Mothman shaped cookies complete with red eyes. You eat your cookies and finish up at the coffee shop before heading back to the hotel, weaving in and out of the festival crowds. You get to your room and go to change, looking to wear something less embarrassing but… that’s not possible with the clothes you packed. You decide to put on a shirt that’s a little bit better; one that reads “I kissed Mothman in the lamp section of Home Depot” and opting for a skirt with the same pair of converse. 
Tara and Janelle wish you good luck on your date before you leave. You go down to the lobby a little bit before eight and wait for Joel, anxiously pacing back and forth. You feel a hand on your shoulder, startling you. You turn around to find Joel, greeting you with a smile. 
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“Just me. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”
“No worries. Where are we going?”
“Just one of the local spots downtown. There’s a band playing there tonight.”
“Sounds like fun!” 
And with that you’re walking side by side to the bar. The streets are even more lively than they were earlier in the day. You try not to notice the way he puts a protective hand on the small of your back whenever you walk through a crowd.
He leads you off the crowded street and into a bar that’s also just as busy. Luckily, he spots some empty stools at the bar and leads you over there. It’s pretty loud so getting to know him here might not be in the cards for tonight but at least you’ll have the alcohol to loosen you up a bit like Joel said. Joel orders a beer and you order a special blood orange margarita, complete with a gummy butterfly on top– how festive.
“You must be pretty into Mothman, huh? I guess ya gotta be if you’re coming here,” he says, half shouting over the loud music. 
“Haha, yeah! My friends think he’s hot.”
“Really?” he says, eyes widening as he takes a sip of his drink. 
“Yeah, I don’t really get it! I just think he’s interesting but if he were real they’d probably try to fuck him or something.”
“You wouldn’t, Luna?” he asks, a playful grin spreading across his face. There it is, that nickname again.  
“You would?” you counter. 
“Maybe if he bought me dinner first,” he laughs. 
After a few more laughs and another round of drinks, you feel yourself loosening up a bit and enjoying the night more. From what you can tell, Joel seems like a nice, southern guy who’s a fellow cryptid enthusiast, no red flags so far. 
“I have to ask, Luna… Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks after the third round of drinks. He’s definitely a little tipsy by now. 
“No, sir,” you say, immediately regretting the sir that slipped out. 
He inches a little closer to you, eyes looking you up and down, and says, “What do ya say we get out of here?” 
Is it a stupid idea to leave a bar and go somewhere with a man you just met earlier that day? Probably. But do you care? Not really, especially in your slightly inebriated state. 
You nod and he flags down the bartender to pay the tab, before grabbing your hand and walking you out of the bar. 
“Where are we going?” you ask when you step back out onto the street. 
“Wherever,” he says nonchalantly, “But tell me Luna, are you a dirty girl?” his large hand grabbing your waist as you walk, pulling you closer into him. 
You can’t deny you want him. And you’re feeling a bit more confident than usual. 
“For you? Sure am.”
“Dirty enough to do it in an alley?”
“Oh fuck yeah,” you drunkenly say, excitement building up between your legs. 
He turns a corner, leading you down a small, dimly lit alleyway. You ignore all of the red flags practically screaming at you. Between your undeniable attraction to Joel and the alcohol, your judgment is heavily impaired to say the least.
He walks you to the end of the alley, to a spot where you hopefully won’t get caught. With a brick wall pressed up against your back, he starts placing wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck, hands greedily pawing your breasts over your shirt. A small gasp escapes your lips when he nips at the soft skin on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark that your friends are definitely going to question later. 
His hand slips under your skirt, toying with the fabric of your underwear; your damp underwear. He pulls it to the side, running his fingers along your entrance, collecting whatever wetness is there and bringing his hand in front of your face to show you. 
“This,” he says, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle finger, pulling them apart and watching your wetness stretch with it, “is all the evidence I needed,” he finishes. 
The deranged and devious look in his eyes as he looks at the physical evidence of how bad you want him makes your knees weak. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting your juices and sucking them clean, closing his eyes at the taste. He replaces fingers back on your cunt, stroking it lightly and nipping your neck again. 
“You taste so fucking good, Luna. So sweet,” he says, coming out as a low growl. 
Without warning, he pushes two fingers in, not letting you warm up with a single one first. He curls them against your walls and you’re so drunk you forget you’re in public, letting out a moan that’s just a bit too loud. 
“Shh,” he whispers against your neck and you try your best to keep quiet…
Until you hear a stern “HEY!” causing you to gasp. 
He pulls his fingers from you quickly and you both look to your right to see a police officer with a flashlight, pointed directly at you. The officer’s eyes trail down to your skirt and then back up to your neck; to the marks on your neck. He sighs. 
“Really guys? Trying to fuck in an alley like a couple of teenagers?”
You stand up straight and smooth your skirt down, unsure of what to do next. 
He sighs again and says, “Get outta here before I arrest you for public indecency! Damn festival goers…”
You blink a few times, in disbelief that he’s letting you go. But Joel grabs your hand and leads you out of the alley, with you holding your breath the whole time. The cop mutters something about how he thought he caught a drug deal as you walk past him. When you hit the sidewalk you exhale, letting the tension leave you. As for Joel he starts hysterically laughing, a stark contrast to the embarrassment you’re feeling. 
He notices the look on your face and asks, “What? You didn’t think that was funny?” while trying to hold back more laughter. 
“Not really!” you say, lightly slapping him on the arm. 
“Aw come on, Luna. He just blamed it on the festival and let us off with a warning. It could’ve been a lot worse but it wasn’t!” he reassures you. 
“I guess you’re right,” you sigh. 
Your phone vibrates in your bag so you pull it out. Your friends are texting you, asking you when you’ll be back. The time on the screen says two in the morning but how is that even possible? Joel met you at eight and you only went to one bar, only had three rounds of drinks and you didn’t go all the way in the alley just now. Chalking it up to being drunk and losing track of time, you put your phone back in your bag and say to Joel, “I think I should get back to my friends.”
“Of course,” he says, “I’ll take you back now.”
The walk back to your hotel is somewhat quiet. The festival goers on the streets are mostly cleared up by now. You assume the quietness is due to the embarrassment from earlier and you wonder if Joel is mad at you for getting worked up. You shake your head and try to put that thought out of your mind, still trying to salvage what you have with him, if anything at all. 
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you start just as you turn onto the block your hotel is located on, “And I’m excited to see you tomorrow at the Mothman stakeout.”
“Me, too, Luna,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Trust me, we’ll have lots of fun tomorrow night.” 
You stop at the entrance to your hotel and begin to part ways. He pulls you in for a kiss and wishes you goodnight. But before he leaves he exchanges phone numbers with you, just in case it’s hard to find each other at the stakeout tomorrow night. You type your name into his phone followed by a butterfly emoji. He chuckles when he sees it, saying, “See you tomorrow, Luna.” And with that, he turns and walks down the street, disappearing into the night. 
Heading back up to the room, you replay the night’s events, trying to get a read on Joel and determine your feelings for him. You decide that you’re definitely interested in him… but you need to know more. Upon entering the door, Tara and Janelle are standing within just a few feet of the entrance, side by side and arms folded. 
“What?” you ask, reading the expression on their faces. 
“An update would’ve been nice,” Tara says. 
“I lost track of time!” you reply. 
“I get that but you were with some mystery man you just met today. You don’t know his intentions!” Janelle adds. 
“You’re right,” you sigh, “Nothing crazy happened. I just forgot to look at my phone.”
“We’re just glad that you’re okay! …And that we can finally go to bed now,” Tara says, yawning and moving over to the bed. 
“Sorry to keep you guys up! But thanks for being concerned for me. I’m just gonna be in the bathroom,” you say. 
They nod and get into bed, while you go to the bathroom to inspect the marks on your neck under better lighting. And sure enough, there’s several marks and there they are but there’s also… a gold film? Perhaps sheen is the right word? Whatever is it there’s flecks of gold peppered along the hickeys. Maybe it’s something from the bar? That’s the most logical explanation you can think of. You complete your nighttime routine and head off to bed, head filled with dreams of Joel, filling in the gaps of information about him. 
-
The next day is a blur, a myriad of events strewn together haphazardly. Your friends can tell you’re in a sort of daze; you can tell by the way they look at you, but they choose to say nothing. First, you went back to The Coffee Grinder because after your late night, you desperately need caffeine. After that, you hit up the Mothman Museum, taking advantage of some special exhibits and talks for the festival. And finally, it’s time to get ready for what you’re most excited for; the group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area. But you haven’t heard from Joel at all throughout the day. And you’re starting to worry. Maybe he doesn’t actually like you, maybe he decided that after you guys got caught in the alley you weren’t worth his time. But he did say he was going tonight and you hope he keeps his word. 
You head to the hotel to change, opting for another one of your stupid fucking t-shirts, leggings and a pair of sneakers. This time your t-shirt reads; “Mothman is real and he sells me weed in the Waffle House parking lot” because why wouldn’t it? 
You pack up your camping supplies; a sleeping bag, a backpack, some snacks along with a bear canister to store them in, a canteen full of water, and a lighter. 
The sun is just starting to set now and it’s about time to go. Before you leave the hotel you decide to text Joel: 
Hey, will I see you tonight?
You wait with bated breath for a response. And to your surprise it comes rather quickly. 
Of course, Luna. Wouldn’t miss it for the world🦋
You exhale, feeling a little bit better about things between you two and head out with your friends. You drive to the McClintic Wildlife Area and park your car in the parking lot, which is decently full. But that was to be expected. What’s the point of coming to the Mothman Festival if you’re not going to try and catch a glimpse of the real thing?
You grab your stuff from the trunk of your car and set off into the forest, following the other Mothman enthusiasts until you reach a clearing where others have already set out their sleeping bags. In the middle of the ring of sleeping bags there’s a fire going, surrounded by people already drinking and socializing. Tara and Janelle spot two guys sitting by the fire and decide to head over to them. You can’t blame them, you did leave them all night last night. So you set up your sleeping bag where there’s a free spot, sit down, and wait for Joel. 
And… nothing. The sun sets and you haven’t heard from him. Tara and Janelle make eye contact with you periodically, shooting you looks that are supposed to ask, “Are you okay?” and you nod back to them, not wanting to ruin their fun. You lay down and look at the stars above you, just about to accept the fact that Joel stood you up when all of a sudden you feel your phone vibrate next to you. 
You hold up your phone in front of your face and to your surprise it’s a text from Joel reading:
Hey, I just found the most convincing piece of Mothman evidence ever. Come look. 
You sit up and look around, confusion on your face. He’s nowhere to be found. 
You type out: 
I don’t see you. Where are you?
He replies: 
Look behind you.
You turn around and look at the line of trees behind you and yet again… nowhere to be found. 
You go to type a response back but he beats you to it, saying:
I can see you. I don’t want to leave the evidence behind… Just come to the trees, Luna.
You sigh and get up, making sure to take your phone with you. Tara makes eye contact with you so you pretend you’re taking a phone call, pointing to your phone and putting it by your ear. She nods and you turn to walk towards the tree line, a nervous pit forming in your stomach. This is such a bad idea. It’s such a typical stupid girl in a horror movie trope and yet here you are, walking into a dark forest to meet a man you just met yesterday. 
You reach the trees and take a deep breath before walking into the woods, turning on your phone’s flashlight. You call out Joel’s name and don’t hear anything. Rolling your eyes, you call him on your phone, getting a little fed up now. He doesn’t pick up but you hear a ringtone in the distance. You groan and follow the sound, because if you can hear Joel’s phone but not Joel… who’s to say that Mothman is actually real and he got Joel? 
You find his phone resting on a fallen tree, the screen lit up with Incoming Call followed by your name. You pick up the phone and look around, shining the flashlight out in front of you. 
You smell something in the air… something fruity… almost like apple cider… with a hint of citrus? A golden mist hangs in the air, permeating the area around you and filling your senses. Whatever’s around you smells good and inviting. Without thinking, you take a deep breath, letting the smell and the mist calm you down. A warmth brews between your legs and your skin feels hot, at first it’s comforting… But soon enough it becomes unbearable. Sweat beads up on your forehead and the warmth between your legs grows stronger. A presence behind you is apparent; it’s daunting. Something tells you to turn around and when you do, you can’t believe your eyes. 
Towering above you is Mothman himself. You’re met with glowing red eyes, a muscular stature, large wings fanning out behind him, and threatening claws. He’s tall, anywhere from seven to eight feet tall, his monstrous eyes practically burning a hole into you. You should be terrified right now, running for your life back to your friends. Or at the very least taking some pictures. Instead you’re frozen, not in fear… but in desire. The warmth that was brewing between your legs is unignorable. 
“Joel?” you call out in a small voice. 
The creature takes a step towards you almost as if it can understand. Your skin feels like it’s burning, like if someone were to touch you the heat of your skin would also burn them. It’s like torture, one of the most agonizing sensations you’ve ever felt. Without even thinking you drop your phone and his, pulling off your shirt over your head, and instantly feeling some relief, but it’s not enough. You kick off your shoes, sliding your pants down your legs, followed by your underwear. The cool forest air hits your skin, perking up your nipples and providing you with seconds of relief, but it’s still not enough. The creature’s eyes scan your features, training up and down your naked form.
The air moves around you, and so does the gold mist. Right before your eyes the creature shapeshifts, losing its wings and claws, returning to a normal human height, turning… into Joel? And yet even still he keeps the unmistakable glowing red eyes. He looks at you with a devilish grin, stepping closer towards you. He’s completely naked, body shimmering under the pale moonlight and the flashlight on the forest floor beneath him. 
“So once again, Luna, are you a dirty girl?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter out, your body practically calling out for him. 
He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying against a flat rock behind you. The coolness of the rock is a stark contrast against the heat radiating off of your body. Joel spreads your legs apart forcefully, marveling at your cunt and how it’s already dripping for him. His red eyes flash back up at you, taking note of the desperate look in your eye before feasting on your cunt. He licks your cunt in a way that can only be described as animalistic, flicking his tongue across your clit and lapping at your entrance. You writhe against the rock and Joel has to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you steady; to keep your cunt directly on his mouth. The tension in your core builds as he continues to eat you out, tongue swirling around your sex as he drinks in your juices. With one last flick of his tongue you cum against him, one of the wettest and longest orgasms you’ve ever had. The movement of your hips slows down as you come down from your high but alas… barely any relief. 
Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you let out a soft whimper. His glowing eyes meet yours and he asks, “Still not enough, huh Luna?”
“No. No, it’s not. Please, Joel, I need more.”
He lets out a dark chuckle, bringing his fingers to your cunt and stroking it lightly, gathering your wetness on his large hand and rubbing it between his fingers. He pushes two fingers inside you, knowing you’re well past needing to warm up with one first. He curls them against your walls, letting his fingers get absolutely soaked. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it while his fingers inside you push against your g-spot. In no time you’re coming again, your cunt fluttering around his fingers rhythmically. Your release soaks his hand all the way down to his wrist and he leaves his fingers inside you, just feeling your cunt clench and relax around him. Your body feels euphoric, tingling sensations coursing through your limbs but still… it’s not enough. 
“How you feelin’, Luna?”
“I still… I still need more,” you whine. 
“Beg,” he says, hovering over you, red eyes staring directly into yours. 
“Joel, please. I need it,” you beg.
“How bad?”
“So fucking bad,” you whine, sounding completely delirious. 
“I suppose,” he teases, spreading your wetness onto his already hard cock, whose size is intimidating…
He pushes into you in one swift motion, hooking his muscular arms around your thighs and leaning forward, folding you in half. You’re face to face with him now, his non-human eyes locked onto yours. His cock stretches your walls, hitting the deepest angles inside you as he fucks you relentlessly; completely feral. You look up at him with the tree covered moon above him, completely in awe of what’s happening to you. You swear his face flashes from his human form to his Mothman form, but only for a split second. He brings his mouth to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin even harder than the night before, surely enough to leave darker marks and more gold film. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming on his cock, your cunt convulsing erratically. He fucks you through it, making it last even longer. Your own release pulls his own from him, and it’s powerful. You feel his warm cum spilling inside you, strong and like it’s never ending. You’re silently grateful you’re on birth control even though you don’t know what the effects Mothman cum will have on you. Eventually your orgasm ebbs and flows as it winds down and Joel slowly comes to a halt. He stays inside you for a moment, keeping his eyes locked on you. 
“I bet now you’re good. Completely spent, ain’t that right, Luna?”
“Mhm,” you say, still a little breathless. 
Eventually he goes soft and his eyes shift back into their usual warm brown shade. He pulls out and lies down next to you. You roll over and rest against him, his own body burning up just like yours. You’re too exhausted to even question what just happened, letting sleep quickly overtake you. 
-
You wake up the next morning alone, the sunlight peeking through the tree cover. You sit up and rub your eyes, looking around you for any sign of Joel. But he’s gone. 
You try to remember last night but it’s all foggy, like it’s a distant memory already. You vaguely remember the fruity scent and the gold mist in the air. You look down at your skin and there’s still traces of it there but not much. You pull on your clothes and grab your phone, looking at the time before rushing to get back to Tara and Janelle. They must be worried sick about you. You power walk back to the group, just trying to get there quickly but also not so panicked that they’ll think something is wrong. From what you can tell, you’re fine. Just a little dazed with a soreness in your core and a stickiness running down your legs. 
You’re back in the clearing and coming up on the collection of sleeping bags. Tara and Janelle spot you and wave, completely cheery with wide smiles. Not the response you were expecting. 
“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be gone that long,” you say, stopping in front of their sleeping bags. 
“Don’t be! Looks like you got lucky, too,” Tara says with a wink, looking at your disheveled state. 
“Did you guys-”
“Mhm,” Janelle says, “With those guys you saw us talking with. Did you end up finding Joel?”
“You bet I did. But didn’t spot any signs of Mothman?” you ask.  
They both shake their heads no and you sigh. 
“Guess there’s always next year,” you say, bending down to pack up your stuff; stuff that you didn’t even end up using. 
You walk back to your car after you’re all packed, feeling your phone vibrate in your bag. 
You pull it out to find a text from Joel reading:
Until next time, Luna🦋
Looks like the Mothman Festival will be an annual tradition. 
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Part two
End note: Hope y'all liked that!!
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scekrex · 1 month
Note
Hey I was wondering if you could do Adam x reader where reader is a sinner who literally just spawned in the middle of an extermination so not only are they panicked about one somehow being alive, two the fact that they're body is basically completely different, and three that weird winged people are killing others. Adam sees reader and after a second or two of thinking and deciding that yeah they're cute makes up his mind and helps them. I hope you have an amazing day/night!
Thanks for request hun! I swear it was great writing it bc it was tricky to keep Adam as character accurate while also making him sympathize with reader. Here ya go, hope you like it xoxo/p
I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, mentions of death, low-key canon typical violence
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
First it had all been black for a moment, a silent void that your soul seemed to travel through. Then there was light, at first it had seemed reddish, then it turned gold, the golden light transitioned to white and then you found yourself standing on solid ground.
What?
You reached for your head, your hands roamed over your skull, there was soft hair there, no sticky red blood, so liquid that coated your hair and made it all greasy. There was also no sign of your skull being cracked open even though that was what had just happened before the world had faded and turned black.
Your eyes roamed over your surroundings and panic and anxiety fueled you alongside confusion on why you were still alive.
There were winged people, they were fighting other creatures, in the hair, on the ground, all around you. Your body screamed at you to run away, to go seek shelter somewhere, to not get killed again. Which was weird enough because you had just died so why the fuck were you here and where was here to begin with. But your body didn't move, it felt like you were glued to the spot, as if your feet had melted and were now one with the ground.
A thing you noticed quickly was that all of the winged people wore black and white only, their wings matched those colors. But there was one guy, way taller than the others, he wore a purple robe with white details and golden sleeves, his wings were also golden. You assumed he was their leader.
You wanted to hide, from him especially, because if you were right and he was their leader, you were easy prey for them. You didn't understand what was going on, nor did you know where you were. Your arms reached for your legs, you tried to move, to get out of their view, to make yourself as unnoticeable as physically possible. But your body still wasn't moving. So you stood there, body violently shaking from fear and panic, what would it be like to die a second time? Would it be just as painful? Would you come back yet again and live through it all again?
“Fucking run you stupid bastard,” someone yelled at you as they rushed past your frozen body. All you could do was to look at them. Then your legs gave out and you collapsed.
Curled up into a ball your body was still shaking, vibrating even, and you felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks. That's it, you were going to die again, maybe even more painful than before. But most importantly: this time you were going to die alone, no partner by your side.
In the corner of your eyes you saw a shadow that was casted over you, a gigantic shadow with wings that were spread out, the winged creature was basically shielding your body from the few of the other winged creatures.
You saw how he leaned in, how his face got closer to your body, a dead serious expression was meeting your unsteady one. Fuck, he was going to kill you, wasn't he?
His lange hand grabbed your shoulder roughly and forced you to lay on your back, he eyed your face carefully before greeting you with a relaxed, “Sup?” You were too stunned to speak. You had expected this creature to kill you, to tear you apart until all that's left of you were little shreds. But instead he greeted you with a simple ‘sup’? Your body tried to get away from his touch, everything inside of you screamed to get away from him, that he was bad news. But you stayed, mainly because his grip on you was painfully firm, but you stayed. “Y’know,” he continued as he raised an eyebrow at you, “It’s pretty fucking rude to not answer.”
A weak and quiet, “Hey,” was all you could get out and while clearly not the answer he had wanted - he made sure you knew that by sighing heavily - he picked you up bridal style. His golden wings were still spread, you supposed he held them up in pride, claiming you as his very own personal trophy. “Where are we going?” it was more of an instinct than actual knowledge you wanted, you were pretty sure you did not wanna know where the two of you were heading to. Most likely he was carrying you in your death. “Dunno, away from the fucking battle for now,” was his response as he walked away from said battle. Why was he being nice? Was he being nice or did he just carry you away to brutally murder you? But if that was his intention then why was he leaving the battlefield? Why not kill you then and there? “Why?” you simply asked, it was all that you could get out, you were too caught up in your thoughts to talk in proper sentences. He looked down at you and for a moment there was confusion written all over his face before he understood, a simple shrug was the answer. “You looked fucking lost,” the creature carrying you explained, “Fucking scared and alone.”
Adam sighed as he forced his eyes shut, you had reminded him of himself after Eve had left him. He was alone, scared even. And then he had crossed the pearly gates and the loneliness continued, he was less afraid but still as lonely, still as broken as he had been on earth. And while you had ended up in hell he couldn't just leave you there, not when you had been looking so much like him when he had died. Adam had died alone, no one should die alone. Especially not someone as gloriously holy looking as you. Because for a sinner, you looked too much like an angel. The wings were missing, obviously they were, no sinner would be reborn with angelic wings, but he could picture you with a pair and he hated himself for it. Because hell was forever and for the first time he didn't like the thought of that, because it included you. The first man didn't quite understand where the sympathy towards you came from, maybe it was just that he had seen himself in you, maybe it was because you seemed different than the others. Has God made a mistake? Adam shook his head, no. God makes no mistakes and neither do angels. But yet he questioned why you looked so holy, so angelic while being reborn a sinner.
The inner conflict Adam was fighting against himself was interrupted by two cannibals that were walking right towards you. Adam rolled his eyes, one hand let go of you and his wing came up to hold you up instead as he raised the hand that had been holding you only moments and a golden battle axe guitar appeared out of thin air. He twirled the shiny looking Instrumental weapon, then sliced their heads off smoothly, Adam's wing had covered your eyes so you weren't able to see it, but you heard it. Heard the blade slicing through flesh, heard their heads hitting the ground. And as surprisingly as the weapon had appeared, it was gone again.
One of the black and white dressed creatures flew towards you, seemingly targeting Adam. “Sir,” the female spoke with respect as she landed next to the guy that was carrying you. She eyed you, then looked at the tall man. “No fucking comment about it, Lute,” he warned with a low growl in his voice and the woman straightened her back with a nod, “We are done, we need to leave.” The masked man looked down at you, you looked so beautiful against his golden feathers, so holy, so untouchable. Yet you were a sinner and he couldn't bring a sinner with him to heaven. So he carefully let you down, the tip of his longest feather ghosted over your cheek, it wiped the tears away. “Promise me to stay fucking safe,” he mumbled as he stood in front of you. You looked up at him with curious eyes, “Where will you be going?” And it was just then and there that Adam realized that you knew nothing. Without him you would've died on the battlefield. “Heaven babes, me and those crazy bitches are going home,” he hummed and pointed to the woman next to him. “And we're currently in…?” Adam's face scrunched up and he bitterly spoke, “Hell.”
Oh. Oh.
So he was an angel? What did that make you? A demon? And yet he had protected you, shielded and saved you. Your eyes widened at that and the man in front of you chuckled. “If you ever see my ladies again,” he once again pointed to the woman next to him, “As for Adam, I'll let these cunts know about you babes ‘n’ they'll lead ya ass to me.” You repeated his name softly, deciding immediately that you liked the sound of it. “The one and only, it's not every day that you meet the fucking og dick,” a cocky grin was sent your way and it took you a moment to process his words. “The Adam? Like Adam and Eve?” That caused the first man's expression to sour immediately, Eve was seemingly a sensitive topic, you took a mental note. “Yeah. That one.”
Lute was once again the one to interrupt, “Sir we really need to go. The seraphims will question why we were gone longer than agreed.” Adam once again rolled his eyes and grabbed your shoulders again, more gentle this time, “Stay safe babes, we'll be back in six months.” And while you weren't entirely sure what he meant by that - because back for what? - you nodded.
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thranduel · 8 months
Text
i need people to actually stop and think logically when it comes to fictional characters. more specifically, when it comes to astarion.
it’s frustrating when people only talk about him in a sexual way and reduce him to “the hot sexy flirty vampire” or “the bear guy” (he was used as an EXAMPLE in a livestream, it’s not even canon in his lore) and view him as someone who “loves flirting and sleeping with people” when he does NOT. he canonically has sexual trauma, was forced to use his body to seduce people, got punished whenever he didn’t listen and is STILL suffering from ptsd after years of abuse and torture (already kinda spoke about this here).
it’s also frustrating when people hate on him and reduce him to “horrible evil heartless cruel annoying bastard” and act like you’re a shitty person if you like his character and must automatically agree with everything he’s done when you absolutely don’t?? he’s a FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN A FANTASY GAME, you can enjoy the complexity of his character and appreciate his character development while also acknowledging his flaws and not approve of every single thing he has ever done.
but before i continue, everyone should watch this scene. many people haven’t seen it because you have to pick very specific dialogue choices when astarion’s siblings approach you at camp. it’s brutal and heartbreaking but this is where he talks about what cazador did to him when he punished him for not listening to his orders. and yes, it’s bad. like really bad. this is just the first part, but the rest of it is more intense and it’s in the video:
“once - in the first decade of my slavery - i found a darling boy who i couldn’t bare to bring back to him. so i ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. after cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year”.
i wish people could actually just try to understand him and his backstory before reducing him to something he’s not. he’s not this one-dimensional “chaotic evil villain”. he’s not this “flirty sexy vampire red flag bad boy” he is SO much more than that. he is so complex and well-written and it’s so weird how people ignore it.
instead of constantly focusing on how he acts at the beginning of the game and saying “astarion is so mean and cruel what a horrible guy who doesn’t care about anyone but himself”, why can’t we talk about how he was forced into doing so many horrible things that he never wanted to do and how his master punished him every time he didn’t follow orders to the point where it utterly broke and destroyed him? he lost his freedom and bodily autonomy. he was forced to sleep with people and then lure them to tragic fates. imagine how sick, disgusted, guilty and horrible he felt all at once. it made him numb, empty, angry and scared even when he was far away from cazador, because that type of pain and trauma never leaves you. he was surrounded by cruelty for so many years that he responded with cruelty in many situations. he hated when people tried to be the hero or make false promises to save someone because no one ever saved him. no one even tried. he had no one and nothing. he was used to constant disappointment and loneliness. he was treated like an object rather than a person. of course he’s going to be bitter because of that. how can you seriously expect someone who only knew a world of cruelty to see sunshine and rainbows and be the sweetest person you’ve ever met? he’s upset, he’s angry, he’s hurt, he’s bitter. does that make every action of his okay? is it an excuse? absolutely not. and no one said that it is. his own life was being destroyed and he also destroyed others at the same time. it’s horrible. but everything cazador did to him explains why he became like that.
but the moment you actually start to treat him like a person, you can immediately see things start to change. that is literally the only thing he ever wanted. that’s why the scene you get after the drow interaction at moonrise is one of my absolute favourites. i know there’s a different version of that scene (if you don’t talk to the drow) where he instead admits he had a plan to seduce you but then fell for you, but the reason i prefer the drow one is because it feels really meaningful and important for his character in regards to consent and treating him like a person. like it’s just such an important conversation to have with him. obviously the other version is still really sweet when you think about the romantic aspect of your relationship and it’s nice to hear that he’s fallen in love and tells you that you deserve something real, because he’s never had those sort of feelings for anyone. it’s really beautiful. but i love how the drow version of the scene could actually work for both platonic and romantic relationships with him if that makes sense? it’s important to him because you made the decision to actually treat him like a person, defend him and allow him to make his OWN decisions (something he never had with cazador). he appreciated it so much that he decided to come up to you in the middle of the night and thank you, and then he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable and open up to you.
at the start of act 3, you already start to see how much he’s changed. if you give an orphan child some food, he approves. when you first met him, he wouldn’t have. he probably would’ve felt bitter; angry to see someone stop for someone else when no one ever did for him. but because you showed him basic respect and kindness, he started to realise that there is good in this world and people do care. it’s not just evil and coldness and cruelty. he only believed there was because of how long he suffered with cazador. there is literally a scene where he tells you that no one has ever cared about him or been kind to him and that no one else has a heart like you. he starts to find safety and comfort in you. this is why it’s so beautiful to see how much he grows and changes and it also shows that he genuinely loves and cares for you too because he’s trying. he’s really trying. you are able to convince him that he can be better than cazador and he believes you after everything you’ve done to help him. it’s going to take a very long time for him to heal after everything he’s suffered, but the fact he has already started to try and be a better person is such a massive thing. obviously it doesn’t erase what he’s done in the past and it doesn’t automatically “fix” him, but the fact that he’s trying and he wants to be better tells you more than enough about him. i am so proud of his character development and growth and i really hope people start to understand him and appreciate him more.
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nicxl333 · 8 months
Text
NSFW ALPHABET— ITOSHI SAE
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depending on how this does i’ll continue this as a blue lock series :)
this is based on my opinion and also egoist bible facts about sae (hopefully it’s accurate enough)
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A= Aftercare (what they're like after the act)
even though he may not seem like it, sae is very soft when it comes to you. your legs are aching? best believe he'll massage them. his first instinct would be to draw a bath for the both of you, cleaning you up so you don't have to do so much as lifting a finger. after all, it was him who put you in this state. after you're both clean he'd put you to bed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his chest where you both eventually fall asleep.
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
on himself, probably his thighs. they are impressively toned and a perfect spot for you to hold onto when pleasing him so it's only natural that he takes pride in them. on you? ass. (canon) in his opinion, there's no ass that compares to yours and he'll quite literally do anything in his power to see it move. if you wear booty shorts around the house best believe he's grabbing it. he also definitely has a hidden folder on his phone filled with ass pics from you for when he's abroad for football.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
if you guys are doing it in doggy, he'll take the opportunity to cum on your ass. either that or inside you. he likes the risk, even though you're on birth control.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
he got wound up post game one day and took it upon himself to fuck his fist to the thought of you. specifically you last week being fucked by him in a state of overstimulation after he'd already made you cum twice on his fingers alone. that isn't the thing that makes this a secret he'll never share however. once he'd cum sticky ropes into his hand he reached for his phone and snapped a picture to send to you. but, in his post orgasmic state he misclicked and sent the photo to the one person he tended to avoid the most: shidou ryusei
sure, he could've deleted it and avoided the most embarrassing moment of his life, but, with shidou being the most desperate male he's ever seen of course he'd view it immediately, given the fact that sae never contacts him.
long story short shidou sent a surprise of his own and sae in a state of absolute rage made him swear to secrecy if he valued living.
E= Experience (do they know what they're doing)
sae doesn't know anything apart from soccer, so it's safe to say that he was clueless about anything sex related. doesn't mean he didn't learn though. you were also each other's first.
nowadays it's questionable if you were really his first and only lover the way he fucks you with such expertise.
F= Favorite position
anything where he can see your ass clapping with each snap of his hips. doggy style, reverse cowgirl, leap frog, the snake. he's not very particulate on just one.
however, if he's making love to you, it needs to be in missionary. he wants you to know just how much he loves you with each roll of his hips into you. it's also a way for him to feed off your reactions in such an intimate setting.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
this is sae itoshi we're talking about. i can guarantee you whenever you fuck it will be a serious moment. that doesn't mean he won't tease you every once in a while though to stroke his ego. he is a massive egoist after all.
expect lines such as "you're about to cum again? i'm not even halfway through with you and you're already crumbling." or "stop holding back. just let me make you cum, it's not like you can do it on your own anyways. need me to do everything for you.”
H= Hair (grooming habits)
sae is the type of guy to stay well groomed. be it shaved completely or short wisps of hair that re uniformly trimmed.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/ dirty)
he is away a lot, given the fact he's an internationally famous soccer player, so he most likely doesn't have enough time to always ensure the most romantic settings for you, resulting in many heated quickies. when the football season is over however and he has a lot of free time on his hands, expect lots of beautifully expensive dates which almost always end up in passionate sessions of love making.
he may not always show it, but sae really does love you so much, more than you can ever imagine, and the best way of showing it in his eyes is giving you endless pleasure so you can fully feel the effects of his love (mentally and physically if you catch my drift).
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
you have him constantly hard on the regular, whether you're with him or not (not that he'd ever let you know the power you hold over him) and he finds his hand wrapped around his dick more often than not. before practice, during practice games, when you're with him. just the mere thought of you is enough for him to spring a massive boner that has to be dealt with at least once every two days. other days he'll either pray that no one sees or take a cold shower.
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
dumbification. easily top of the board. he likes to see you completely lose yourself on his dick, fucked into total submission, to which he'd respond with a snarky comment.
"have i fucked you stupid? going dumb on my cock huh? i think you can take one more, can you do that for me? yeah?"
dacryphillia (in the good sense). he likes to see tears prick at the corner of your eyes due to how good he is fucking you. he'll reach down and wipe your tears away
"is it too much huh? don't worry baby it's okay i’ve got you"
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
as horny as sae gets he does have some form of rationality. given the fact he's bombarded by paparazzi a lot he wouldn't like to risk the both of you being next day headliners across the globe for something so unsavoury in their eyes.
he would fuck you most likely in the comfort of your shared condo or the safety of your hotel room if you have decided to travel with him.
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/ turn ons)
it's you. you don't have to do a lot to turn this man on, just your sweet voice is enough or your bright smile.
if he had to choose however, probably seeing your ass in a nice pair of shorts. specifically if you’re bent over cleaning or picking something up, to the point where he can see your ass peaking out.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won't do)
threesomes. he is way too possessive (in a good way) and full of love for you that he'd refuse to see anyone other than himself please you. he believes he's more than capable of doing that himself.
bring it up to him one day and he will shut it down immediately, no fucks given.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
definitely giving, although he wouldn't say he doesn't enjoy being on the receiving end every once in a while, particularly after a stressful day.
this guy is the absolute king at eating pussy, sucking on your clit while fingering you with curled fingers to hit your g-spot with each stroke. it's something about seeing you in total ecstasy because of him that really feeds into his ego.
P= Pace (how fast they are)
if you guys are fucking, hard and fast. he knows all the spots that make you scream so he's pretty skilled at bringing you to a quick earth shattering orgasm every time.
if you're making love, slow and deep. he wants you to feel every inch and every vein of him. he particularly enjoys the sweet whines you let out in his ear when he hits it just right.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
like said earlier, he doesn't always have a lot of free time to spend with you so always expect a quickie if he's only there for a day or so. it would be wrong to say he prefers it however because if he did have the time, he would spend it pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
as long as they're reasonable. if he doesn't feel comfortable or confident with it he'll make it known to you. he is open to some suggestions though. particularly degradation if you’re up for it.
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
bffr. for starters he's a literal football player. this man spends almost every day of his career running up and down a massive pitch for a minimum of 90 minutes. best believe his stamina is absolutely god tier.
if he does have the time for it, expect 3-4 rounds of him going absolutely ham on you.
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
funny story. the first time he walked in on you using a vibrator on yourself he demanded the name of where you got it from, then finished you off with the toy, then himself straight after. it was the first time he got you to squirt.
the next time you saw him he had a box full of sex toys for him to test out on you. it was a long, pleasurable night.
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
he does enjoy opportunities given to make you beg for his dick. methods such as pulling out once he feels the signals of your orgasm coming, letting the heat inside you die down before he fucks into you again and repeats the process once more.
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
nah. he's pretty quiet as it is so expect small grunts in your ear, or slight panting from exertion. don’t get him wrong though, he will tease the shit out of you if necessary. you on the other hand, are very loud, which he relishes in. your sweet sounds are a need for him in order to cum.
W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)
as much as he hates threesomes i think he'd want to fuck you in front of shidou. not to the point where he can see your body, but so much so that he knows what's going on.
eg: you're sitting on his lap, wearing a skirt, where his dick can easily access your tight cunt. he'd probably engage in some conversation while he bounces you in his lap so he can show shidou just who you belong to.
X= X-ray (what's down below in dem pants)
easy. he's big in both sectors. he's very girthy, meaning you're stuffed to the brim each time he takes you. equally he's got a decent length, 7.2 inches, slightly curved to the right. the tip is quite an angry shade of pink while the rest of his dick is pinkish light brown. (#ca9f94 for reference) he deffo has a big vein running underneath which you do well to lick at every time you give him head, and his tip is definitely extremely sensitive.
lick the hole of his tip and he's cumming instantaneously.
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
due to extended periods of time away from each other his sexdrive is on an all time high. when he's with you it's gotta be at least once a day y'all go at it.
don't think yours isn't just as high though, he can barely walk through the front door before you're pawing at his clothes in desperation to take them off.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
he's an athlete, it's mandatory that he gets some form of rest. he most likely falls asleep with you or just after you, softly stroking your hair or caressing your waist gently, before giving you a peck to the forehead and drifting off.
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