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confessedlyfannish · 7 months

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DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

#I watched Epilogue from JLU right before this #can you tell #I'm in my feelings so hard rn #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #my writing #batman #danny phantom

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conelluwrites · 24 days

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the red means i love you

Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)

posted on my AO3

word count: 2.6k

title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking

You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.

“Mmm…” The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?” His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings. His hair is just barely out of place. Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.

“W-Wha-!” The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist. One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone. Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room. His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.

“Shhh, shhh… There’s no reason for you to be afraid.” He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck. “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…” His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries. It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked. “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want. No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear. Sounds pretty nice, hm?” His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.

“But I gotta protect my neighbors. My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.” She says, her voice trembling. Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.

“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.” The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head. He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist. His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape. There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human. “But how many times have they let you down? Surely they have failed you before. People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone. I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”

Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors. “How do I know you won’t hurt me?” The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have. He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp. If he wanted to maim her, he would have already. “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling! I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.” The doppelgänger earnestly insists. His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her. “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours… And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.” He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers. The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt. “C’mon… please trust me.”

“But I-” her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.

“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?” He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans. His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself. “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”

She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face. “My apartment is on the first floor. We… We can go there together. We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”

Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.” He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room. The walk to the apartment is short. As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space. “Nice place. So cozy…”

“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”

Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement. After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone. Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object. “You’re so brave, you know. C’mere.”

She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there. The doppelgänger is taller than her. Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing. He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch. He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings. He drawings circles on his back with his free hand. He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck. Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck. Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt. Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away. The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.

The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch. If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion. His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly. “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”

“...” She considers his words carefully. Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can. But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to. She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck. She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t. “ I promise.”

“Good girl.” He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck. Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her. His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair. The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her. “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”

“Oh? Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.

Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck. “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.” With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening. They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds. With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool. “Just relax, enjoy this moment.” She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating. “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly. There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her. Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound. He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.

“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.

“Only for me to look at later.” He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh. The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away. Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers. “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”

“I don’t know much about them, to be honest. They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.” She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.

“You should know more than that.” He growls. “We could use your help some day.”

“We? You want me to help the doppelgängers?”

“Of course. Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out… You could be helpful in our cause.”

“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing. “Though…”

“Though? You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family. Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”

“Mm.” She weighs his words carefully. In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet. “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them. Does that make us mates?”

“Indeed.” Silence stretches between them for a moment. “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.” He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.

“Ah, like marriages for humans then? Do you want to consummate our bond?”

The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing. “Yes. But we must proceed cautiously.”

“Why’s that, my love? Is your genitalia that different?” She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly. The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.

“Hm… No, not quite.” There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities. “Our release is also quite different, I believe. Is that okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes. I want to be your mate, so please… mate with me the way doppelgängers do.” Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph. The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise. The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform. Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense. His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips. His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum. He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.

“Lie back.” He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger. She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently. There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head. She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties. His gaze is full of pride. “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”

“You’re perfect.” She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly. Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth. She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex. The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size. She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.

He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly. “You’re tight.” He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep. The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.

“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected. So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance. “I was scared about the bars, but shit… your cock is so perfect for me.” The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.

“That’s it! Take everything I got!” He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips. “Answer me, would you want children?” He gasps urgently. Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.

“I-I-! Yes! I want to swell with your young.” She says lovingly, moaning.

He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips. The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership. “Perfect.” He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him. “Ride me until we’re done.”

She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt. “Fuck, baby…” She breathes out, her hands on his chest. Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.

“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.” He orders hoarsely. He hisses as her cunt adjusts. The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her. His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.

She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster. “I-I-...” Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence. She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him. Instead, she leans down to kiss him. Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.

“Say it. Tell me how much we mean to each other.” He demands huskily. His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second. It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.

“I love you, fuck, I love you!” She moans loudly. Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock. “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.” She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him. Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt. His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him. Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him. Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen. She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.

He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock. He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest. It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake. “Our bond is sealed.” He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #tnmn milkman #tnmn #doppelganger #doppelganger francis mosses #banner by cafekitsune

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chaedomi · 8 months

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JEWEL OF OBELIA

SUMMARY . to them you were a jewel, precious and highly valuable. they, in turn, will express their strong emotions toward you, even if it means resorting to... more hostile methods.

CHARACTERS . ATHANASIA / CLAUDE DE ALGER OBELIA

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, suicide, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.7k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . why have all the readers in my manhwa fics originally died so far... anyway, can you tell where i started losing motivation?

IN THE novel, Lovely Princess, the story went like this. True to its title, the book contained Lovely Princesses. There was The First Princess, akin to the moon, who held a gloomy and foggy disposition. Then came The Second Princess, resembling the sun, bright and cheery. And finally, The Third Princess, similar to the stars, was reserved but gentle and a source of comfort.

You were… The First Princess’s younger half-sister. Although your mother was unknown (you were found inside a basket in the gardens crying) those jeweled eyes and your uncanny appearance close to The Emperor were solid proof that you were in fact of royal blood. It was… certainly strange to learn that the book entailed you as an 'unimportant' character. While The Second Princess was adored by the whole continent, the love the people harbored for you, The Third Princess, could put The Second Princess to shame. They treated you as though you were some supreme gift bestowed from the heavens, to be treasured and pampered. And among those who glorified you… was your father, The Cold-Hearted Emperor. You were like The Protagonist more than The Second Princess could ever be.

You were also… the best sister anyone could ask for to The First Princess. Because The First Princess was deprived of affection in her life, she mostly relied on you to fill the gaps in her heart. And you endearingly did so, trying your best to shine a light inside her darkness. It soon became that you both were inseparable, attached by the hip.

…So, obviously, you will spiral down into despair over The First Princess's death. You knew The First Princess was innocent of The Second Princess's poisoning. She was simply too sweet to commit a vile act, especially when she too took a liking to The Second Princess. But, alas, your reasoning went through one ear and out the other, and without proper evidence, your father executed The First Princess.

However, just as The Emperor's wrath was not to be underestimated, so was the extent of your grief as you promptly took away your life hours after The First Princess's execution. And that was the sad ending of your story, The Third Princess.

HOW WAS THAT ANY FAIR??? The confusion of the roles and the cheesy plotline were already bad enough on their own, but your unnecessary death pretty much destroyed the chances of her leaving a positive review. Was it done to reestablish the fact you were an unimportant character, or to remind everyone that The Second Princess is the original best girl in the story…? No amount of copious explanations can ever make ATHANASIA understand the validation for your death.

What she can come to understand however is that you, out of all people, did NOT deserve to die. You had all the rights to receive a happy ending just like The Second Princess… and that is what she aspired to make a reality as she was tossed into the fantasy world of the novel. It was obvious that it all went to hell when The First Princess was executed at the hands of The Emperor. So, in order to avoid your death, she will have to avoid hers first.

A genius plan, she dubbed it, stealing various riches from the Ruby Palace to live the rest of her life on as she escapes. She also thought of the brilliant idea of taking you along with her, after all, being inside the palace is kind of… the reason for your death, was it not!? Why not avoid the source altogether!? Or… that is what was supposed to happen before she accidentally stumbled across The Emperor four years early. Now, she will have to scrap that genius plan. Damn…

On a bright note, as time passed, using an alternative plan, Athanasia eventually evaded all chances of earning death at the hands of her father. This means that you too won’t have a pitiful ending as you originally did! Yay!

You truly didn’t deserve to die, and Athanasia will keep on saying it as much as needed. The years she spent beside you as your sister, further strengthened her motivation to keep you alive. She also understood why The First Princess had a strong attachment toward you. Innocent, Pure, Patient, Merciful, and Kind… who wouldn’t swoon over a person with such admirable traits? What struck her heart the way it did, was your affection. In her previous life, Athanasia… didn’t have people around her to provide her with love.

So, it surprised her a lot when it happened. Sure, she had love from her Nanny and the rest of the maids, but yours had her heart pumping, energy rushing through her veins. It was warm… a feeling she wanted to cling to for an eternity. Was it silly that she felt envious of a fictional character? To think that The First Princess was subjected to this kind of treatment from you… How did it feel to live her dream? Not that it matters anymore. Now, she can have you to all herself! You wouldn’t mind if she got a little… greedy, right? Of course, you won’t! After all, if you learned of her tremendous effort to keep you safe, why wouldn’t you reward her with more of your presence? What she does is in your favor. So, don’t get too upset if what she does seems a bit extreme, alright? It’s all for your benefit.

Betrayal can hurt. But, betrayal stings when it comes from the person you trusted and loved the most. You didn’t understand why it had upset her more than it upsetted you. More so, if she was so against the idea, why hadn’t she said so first? She was supportive about it too, choosing to help pick out a perfect disguise for your outing in the town. So why was it that on the day you were about to leave, lo and behold, there was your father by your doorway, inclusive of his knight… and your sister beside him, smiling triumphantly? Maybe if you had paid attention to how the shine left your sister’s eyes as you told her of your plan, you could have avoided such a dreadful punishment.

What bugged you the most was how Athanasia carried out her day normally, and acted sweetly to you, as if she didn’t partially contribute to the punishment of breaking your legs. Today was no different, as she sat on the chair beside your bed rambling on about her day. “You know, that’s the most I’ve seen Daddy upset.” She laughed, tracing her finger down your legs. “Usually, he would never dream of even hurting a strand of your hair. What you’ve done was really bad…”

She smiled at you, her jeweled eyes looking all the more terrifying under the dark lighting in your room. “I don’t understand. I should feel despaired seeing my sister in so much pain. Why does it bring me so much relief?” She sighed, holding one of your hands in hers. “...You scared me terribly with what you told me earlier. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the many possibilities that would arise with you out there. Even worse, what if they learned of your true identity, and an enemy nearby attacks you?”

“I agreed with your plan, solely to avoid trouble. If I said no, you would have avoided me, right? I… don’t ever want to see you in danger, or place you in it, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Not like anything like that will happen anytime soon!” She gently poked your injured legs. “I will help ensure that too.” You didn’t realize that the tears building in your eyes began to fall, your sister’s fingers quickly working to wipe them away.

In the novel, CLAUDE naturally favored you more than The First Princess. Upon your first encounter during the festival on The First Princess’s ninth birthday, with an outstretched hand, he escorted you back to the party, leaving your older sister in the dust. You lived a rather lavish life after that, him spoiling you with exquisite goods. So, it’s not like you had to form some extreme plan like Athanasia to protect yourself from the dangers that lurked inside the palace. Everyone here adored you…

Yet, not only did Athanasia’s interference with the plotline create many changes for her, but it also resulted in triggering unsettling events for you. Now that The Cold-Hearted Emperor has learned to display affection for the firstborn he originally detested, where would that place you, the daughter he always loved?

…His methods were very much frightening, even traumatizing, you may add. The numerous times you witnessed something gruesome to the eye, for the littlest offenses toward you. He would imprison, he would murder, he would execute, all in your name. His presence too, was very much suffocating, more than Athanasia, and that spoke volumes.

You hated how they both attached themselves to you, but, if you had to choose, you would pick Athanasia in a heartbeat. For the cold jeweled eyes that scrutinized every movement you made were too much for your poor heart to endure. It was as though he was waiting, waiting for your slip-up, to gain a perfect reason to permanently confine you behind the walls of your bedroom. And you fear… that the day you kissed your freedom goodbye was approaching quicker than you initially anticipated.

“What will it take for you to treat me as normally as the rest?” the (h.c) haired girl wept, clutching on tightly her father’s robes. “Shall I become like my sister, Athanasia? If I do… will I become like a free bird, and be granted more privileges?” grief-stricken jeweled eyes peered up at her father. “Will you finally release me from the shackles you trapped me in?”

“Do what you want,” her father smirked. but, as quickly as her hope came so was it shattered. the piercing concept. his voice in her ears was the cruelest of them all. “Such a thing won’t happen till the day I perish.” what a terrible vow. she knew he would do anything in his power to maintain his promise. and so, the deepest of despair like never before flooded her eyes. what have you done to receive this…?

you were very precious. nothing, not even the rarest pieces in the world could be compared to you; you were the highest value among them all. for all, it was a high requirement to treat you with the utmost importance and respect. yes, to them, to everyone, you were, the jewel of obelia.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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mrwavellswaps · 20 days

Text

Born In The Wrong World

Megan had grown tired of her life. There were many reasons she could give for it but if she did we’d be here all day. The short of it was… she was unsatisfied. Despite being a witch with all her magical capabilities, she found herself yearning for something more than this life she had. The life of a young woman living a world that didn’t value her. And a lot of the time she couldn’t help but think that was simply because of the fact that she was a woman and that if she’d been born a man that maybe things would be different somehow. She might’ve been talented with magic but she was never recognised as much as the men in her world were for their magical talents.

So that’s when she made her decision. If you can’t beat them, join them.

At first she considered simply switching her gender but without an incredibly powerful reality bending spell to go with it, everyone would know she used to be a woman. So her next though was stealing the body of a man. Unfortunately the only body swapping spell she had the ability to cast was one that could only be performed between those who had close DNA connections. Aka family. But she didn’t want to do that. The thought of stealing her father or brothers body was… odd to say the least.

It took a lot of time and research but eventually she came up with a solution. It took her months of practice but eventually she was able to cast a spell that opened a portal to another dimension. One almost completely identical to Megan’s world in every way except everyone’s genders were reversed! Anyone born a woman in her dimension was born a man in this one and vice versa. So what was her solution? To find her male counterpart in this universe of course!

It didn’t take long to track him down. His name was Mark and the similarities between him and Megan were uncanny. Sort of like twins born with different genders. In a sense they kinda were twins. However instead of having Megan’s long flowing hair and delicate skin, Mark was completely bald and had a thick full beard coating his face. He was taller than her and had all the things you’d expect to see on a man like body hair and strong masculine features. He was surprisingly muscular as well though to Megan’s delight with a very strong build. Most notably his thick and powerful looking arms. Megan couldn’t help feeling envious knowing this is what she could’ve had.

Megan did her best to spy on Mark for a while without being noticed. She’d already confirmed he was a magic user like her, further proving what she already knew. But pretty soon she couldn’t stop herself anymore. She needed that body!

She wasn’t entirely sure that body swapping spell she had would work but she had to try. Or else this would’ve all been for nothing! And so Megan managed to ambush Mark as he was coming home, using some sleeping dust and blowing it in his face to knock him out.

When Mark awoke, he found himself naked and bound by enchanted cuffs to his own bed with his nude female self standing over him. He shouted and pleaded with her, wanting to know who she was and what she was doing. But Maise wouldn’t answer. Instead she simply began to ritual for the swapping spell.

A look of worry and fear crossed Mark’s face as Megan began reciting incantations out loud. He had no idea what she was trying to do but it couldn’t be good. He begged her to stop but Megan refused to listen and soon enough a magical aura began swirling around the pair.

Immediately the spell began to kick in and Mark’s eyes bulged as he watched his chest begin to swell. The hair on it swiftly fading away as two womanly breasts grew in place of his pecs. Meanwhile the opposite happened to Megan. Her breasts shrinking away completely as her nipples diminished before chest hair started to sprout. Immediately Mark figured out what was happening but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Megan moaned with delight as she felt everything Mark had being transferred to her. The feminine shape of her body started to fade as it was replaced by a much more masculine form. Her legs swelling up with thick muscle as her feet grew multiple sizes. Her ass transforming into much more of a male muscle butt that she would’ve thirsted over before. But by far one of the best changes had to be with her arms. Feeling her biceps and triceps swell with such immense size and strength that she couldn't help feeling a sense of pride flowing through her as she flexed them. All while her hands grew into bigger meatier man hands.

Just like with her chest, newfound body hair spread up and down her body. Most notably spreading across her legs and stomach but she couldn’t ignore the small bushes sprouting from her armpits either. She’d always loved a good bit of hair on a man.

Meanwhile Mark had undergone the reverse of Megan’s transformation with his body from the neck down becoming almost completely that of a woman. Their heads however were still mismatched. But that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. After having been forced to witness his muscle and size being stolen, Mark continued to beg Megan to stop. But why the hell would she do that when she was already loving this so much!

And just like that, right as Mark was about to protest again he was swiftly cut off by the feeling of hair growing fast from his once bald head while his beard started to vanish.

For Megan though, her own long flowing hair started to recede quickly. Getting shorter and shorter by the second. And as it did she felt an itching on her face. She scratched her chin and cheeks a little, initially confused as to why it was still so smooth despite the itching. That is until a large thick beard suddenly sprouted all at once! Filling her meaty hands with hair. And as it did, the hair on her head finally finished receding, having disappeared completely and leaving her with a bald scalp.

From there Megan’s features began to alter. Her head changed shape slightly as her eyebrows grew thicker and her eyes became more deeply set. Her nose naturally became a bit broader while her lips thinned ever so slightly to appear less feminine. Beneath the mass of hair covering her face, Megan could tell that her jaw was reshaping itself as well. Becoming more angular and masculine. And with a few more tweaks on top of that, Megan’s face now looked identical to how Mark’s once had!

Mark screamed in a high pitched feminine voice, struggling against his restraints. Seeing this woman steal everything from him right before his very eyes and forcefully transfer her female body to him was downright terrifying! Though as Mark struggled, he noticed something. Despite his now feminine body and bouncing boobs, he could still feel his cock flopping between his legs. He was about to let out an internal sigh of relief… until suddenly his dick started to twitch and tingle. Then without warning, his balls sucked back up inside his body.

Megan grinned, knowing it was finally time. The final phase. The spell book even mentioned this part would happen last due to these last parts being such sensitive organs. Though that didn’t stop her from letting out a manly groan as she could feel her ovaries starting to descend inside of her, transforming into testicles on their way down. A dumb grin spreading across her bearded face as a growing ball sack pushed its way out of her slit. She could already feel those fattening balls beginning to produce testosterone to pump through her new body. But the most exciting part was still to come as she watched a small cock head poke its way out of her swiftly closing slit. It was only tiny at first but as it pushed further and further out, it fattened. Twitching and throbbing uncontrollably as it grew longer and girthier. Not stopping until Megan had a massive juicy cock swinging between her legs at last.

A shiver ran up Megan’s spine as she touched her new member for the first time. It was so sensitive yet she still couldn’t believe it. It almost seemed like a dream that her plan was actually a success but as she ran her hands up and down her new male body, she could only confirm that this was in fact real! She was fucking man!

As for Mark, he was a complete and total mess. The last of his manhood had been stripped away from him. Stolen by his once female alternate self. That didn’t stop him from pleading with her though. But Megan simply ignored him as she was far too fascinated by the look and feeling of her new masculine body. Groping her muscles. Playing with her body hair. Touching her beard and bald head. And of course gently pumping her new cock, much to her own delight.

She wasn’t able to get too into it though with Mark whining on the bed about wanting his body back. So Megan sighed and paused her exploration of her new body, instead walking over to the pile of discarded clothes she’d taken off Mark earlier on and slipping them on herself. A pair of gray shorts, a white tank top, white athletic socks and black shoes. All of which would’ve been too big for her before but of course now fit her manly body perfectly.

With that she left Mark to struggle in the restraints for a while, deciding to go out and see the world with the eyes of a man for the very first time. She already had plans for when she returned. First she was going to perform a forbidden ritual on Mark to seal his own magic and prevent him from telling anyone about what happened and as soon as that was done she planned on reactivating the inter-dimensional portal spell that got her here. Luckily it was much easier to perform the second time when returning back to your own dimension. Sort of like having a return ticket to go home. Only she wasn’t planning on going through herself. If she went back to her world like this, there would be far too many questions. So the best solution was to stay here and send Mark back as her old self.

Megan, or rather the new Mark, found a bench for himself to sit at a nearby park outside his new apartment. He sat and allowed himself to bask in the glow of the sun. A feeling of triumphant victory washing over him. Finally he could have a new life in this alternate world. A new life as a man. And a hot as fuck man at that. No longer having to worry about the challenges of being a woman and getting to reap the benefits of swinging a cock between his legs instead. Speaking of, as soon as his alternate self had been sent back to his old reality, he planned on spending the next day worshiping his body and jerking off so much that his balls were completely drained. He couldn’t fucking wait because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was the reality he was supposed to have been born into.

Hope you all enjoyed this Shorter story from me. I’ve been busy as of late and am working on something longer right now but I thought I’d upload this in the meantime!

Also you’re welcome @bodyswappingandshit @bodyswappingandshit-1

#female to male tf #female to male #male transformation #male body swap #male body theft #permanent #magic #identity theft #hairy #jock #muscle theft #male muscle growth #musclegrowth #male to female #male to female tf

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lovebugism · 4 months

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blurbcember!!!

omg how about the prompt 14. the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me with steve because neighbor!au has a special place in my heart 🤭😔

i'm definitely late for this request but i couldn't stop thinking about it! hope you like it angel! — your pretty next door neighbor keeps you company when the power in your building goes out, along with a couple of his friends (neighbors to lovers, fluff, 1.6k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“I think I have cabin fever.”

“Eddie, shut up— it’s been five minutes,” Steve scolds from the darkened kitchen, where he’s trying to save the newly purchased beer from the warming fridge. He stacks the bottles neatly in a small, square cooler. It won’t keep them cold for long, but hopefully until the power comes back on.

“Soon we’ll have to decide which one of us to eat,” the wild-haired boy continues, still lazing on the couch with a beer in his hand. It stains a damp circle on the thigh of his jeans. He’s not at all fazed by the sudden outage.

“Remind me not to get stranded on an island with you.”

Aglow with orange candlelight, Robin shrugs from the adjacent sofa. She tilts her head on the arm of it to see Eddie more clearly. “The right answer is obviously Steve.”

“Obviously,” Eddie concurs.

“It’s ‘cause he’s so muscly.”

“And he eats, like, super healthy—”

Steve huffs and lugs the chunky cooler back into the living room, cradling the weighty thing with both arms. “Can both of you shut up about pretend cannibalism and help me with the door?”

The conversation stops. They turn to blink at him across the dim room, their faces swirled in a similar look of confusion. “Wait— Where are you going?”

“Next door,” Steve answers, fumbling with the cooler until he can shift it in his hold. The entrance squeaks — a louder sound in the uncanny quiet — when Robin swings it open. “I wanna check on my neighbor.”

You were the first thing that crossed his mind when the lights flickered. Swallowed in darkness, Steve lit a few candles and knew immediately that he’d go to you. He knows you’re alone over there — that you’re alone, and you hate the dark, and that the combination of the two makes you uneasy.

So he’s gonna stay with you until the lights come back on, and hope his friends don’t make him look like a total idiot while he’s doing it.

The emergency lights glow faintly and eerily yellow. Robin and Eddie follow him like lost puppies the short distance down the hall. The latter, blissfully unaware of personal space, leans against Steve’s shoulder like he’s about to tell him a secret. “The pretty neighbor?” the boy croons.

Steve sighs and stops in front of your door. The slightly chipped paint and the crooked numbers on the entryway match his own. He knocks as gently as he can with the toe of his sneaker. “Yes, Eddie. The pretty one,” he answers in a monotone.

“The pretty neighbor you couldn’t shut up about when you were drunk on my couch the other night?” Eddie continues to tease, directly into Steve’s ear, until he’s elbowed half-heartedly away.

The door swings open then. And, truth be told, you were somewhat expecting to see Steve standing there. Lying alone in your bed, trying not to make monsters out of the clothes in the corner, you were girlishly hoping he’d swoop in and save you.

Your heart starts to swell at the sight of him, glowing faintly amber beneath overhead auxiliary lights. Then it gets caught in your throat when you see the two strangers standing just behind him. A pretty girl with a freckled face and a boy with long hair and leftover eyeliner under his eyes.

“There she is,” the one with the wild hair lilts, dropping his head to his shoulder to smile at you.

“Hi,” you greet softly, because it’s muscle memory. Then, when the stranger’s greeting dawns on you— “…What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him,” Steve answers. “Can we come in? I brought booze.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” you joke with a shy smile. To you, you would’ve said if you were braver. How can I say no to you?

“This is Robin and Eddie, by the way,” he says as he walks into your dimly lit apartment. It’s exactly like his but decorated much more intently — with plants and posters and mood lighting that’d be on under different circumstances. It glows with so many little candles instead, smelling faintly of sage and vanilla.

His two friends follow in behind him — Robin first, with an awkward smile and accompanying wave, and then Eddie, who’s visibly more confident.

Steve laughs. “Sorry. I was kinda in the middle of babysitting before I came over.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Eddie says with a wide grin, holding out his hand to shake yours. He wears chunky, silver rings on all his fingers. “And I mean, a lot.”

You stick a hesitant hand in his warmer one. “Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“All good things. Don’t worry… Great things, actually.”

“That’s… good,” you waver with a forced laugh. Eddie hasn’t yet let go of your hand.

“I’ll be honest— when Steve said you were pretty, I was not expecting you to be this pretty.”

Your mouth falls open and then closes again. Sorta like a fish. You try to come up with something to say but can’t think of exactly what. You thought you were the only one telling all of your friends about the pretty neighbor next door.

“Eddie!” Steve scolds from across the room. He idles in the spot where the living room ends and the kitchen begins. He tries to duck away into the latter, but he wants you to come with him — so he can even be halfway alone with you. “Stop flirting and leave her alone.”

Eddie’s face swirls into an insincere pout. He drops your hand to walk further into the room.

“Oh, please, I was just being nice— don’t get your panties in a wad, Harrington.” He bends down at your coffee table, rifling through the bowl of Starbursts there until he finds a yellow one. It isn’t until he pops it into his mouth that he thinks to ask, “These are for everyone, right?”

You giggle again, much more sincere this time. “Sure.”

“Ooh,” Robin squeals under her breath from where she sits on your couch. She’s grabbing a handful of the pink kind before you can blink.

“Wanna help me with these while those idiots act like vultures?” Steve offers with a soft smile.

You know he doesn’t need help. Or, at the very least, that he could ask Robin and Eddie for it. But he’s asking you now, and you think you know a little bit as to why. At least, you hope you do. You nod at him, anyway. “Sure.”

“Sorry about them,” Steve apologizes when you’re both hidden inside the dark kitchen. He drops the cooler onto the counter, then stretches his aching arms while you light a candle.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile and shake out the match. “They seem really nice.”

“They’re idiots, but they mean well.”

“A little like someone I know.”

Steve meets your quiet smile with a squint. “Stop flirting with me.”

He reaches into the container to grab you a beer from inside it. The entire time, you’re finding the courage to say the words bubbling up in your throat. The five seconds it takes feels like eons and milliseconds at the same time.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder as he passes you a bottle, the amber glass of it already breaking a sweat.

“Uh-huh.”

Steve uses the hem of his shirt to unscrew the top of his. You idle with yours, letting the cold bottle sting your delicate palm. “Why did you come over?” you ask, and then, when you realize how unkind that sounds, “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here! I’m always happy to see you! I was hoping you’d come over, actually. I’m just— I’m just curious.”

Steve doesn’t seem to take offense to your words. Instead, the rambling of them makes him smile. “‘Cause I know you don’t like the dark,” he answers with a shrug. “And I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

Again, he only shrugs.

The beer hisses faintly when you unscrew the cap of it. “So you would’ve done it for anyone, then?” you ask him, feigning nonchalance as you take a quick sip from the bottle.

“Hell no,” Steve scoffs.

You swallow and lick your alcohol-slicked lips with wide eyes. “No?”

“If those schmucks in there asked me to bring them free booze ‘cause their power went out, I would laugh in their faces,” Steve confesses, already chuckling at the thought — a golden sound that rivals the orange candlelight.

“I feel special now,” you giggle, hiding it behind the neck of your beer.

“That’s because you are.”

Your face burns hot, like so many orange embers blotching the apples of your cheek. You take a heftier swig of beer. Both to cool your blazing skin and to slow your racing heart.

“And I don’t think I’d be here if it were anybody else,” Steve tells you, raising the lip of his bottle to his mouth. “I like doing nice things for you ‘cause it’s you, you know?”

Your nose scrunches until the edges of your eyes crinkle. “Stop flirting with me,” you tease, parroting his words from earlier.

Steve squints. “Is it that obvious?”

“Drinking booze? In the candlelight? While you tell me pretty things? It couldn’t be more obvious, Steve Harrington.”

“You caught me,” he shrugs and props his elbow on the countertop. He tilts his cheek to his shoulder and flashes you a rosy, lopsided smile. Bathed by candlelight, his eyes glow a more honied shade. “I cut the power to half the city just so I could get you all to myself.”

His tongue swipes along his plush bottom lip. His eyelids get distinctly heavier.

“To yourself and your two best friends?”

You bring him back to reality with seven words. His face twists in offense to them. “Eddie is not my best friend, okay?” he chuckles. “He’s not even in my top ten list of best friends.”

“Don’t be mean,” you giggle, a pretty sound that makes him smile wider.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie calls from the living room. “I have ears, you know? And feelings.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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shiraishi-kanade · 26 days

Text

An Shiraishi is always trying to be someone else: a short and messy analysis on how Vivid Street (unintentionally) messed her up

You know, I kind of have my own issues with the "Wishing to the Blue Sky for Your Happiness!" event, but a lot of my criticism of it boiled down to "huh, it's kind of weird how they gave An this insecurity out of nowhere, she didn't struggle with being herself before. Seems to be a reach just so Shizuku could have a role."

But that was before the Vivid Old Tale, and boy I'll admit I was very wrong.

The relationship between An and Nagi are... Very interesting, to say the least.

But there's no doubt that An absolutely idolizes Nagi. Sure, there's been this line about An always wanting to he a musical like her father, but we also know that for the most part, it was Nagi who taught her to sing, as well as Nagi who acted as An's mentor figure in a more emotional way.

In a way, An won the lottery. She was born into a family that loves her, into a community thay loves her, and just so happened to be talented and passionate about something that community values most. However, that talent has left her little to no space to actually... See herself as someone outside of it.

Now, none of this is actually necessarily negative by default. Having high expectations to one's children isn't necessarily bad either; with the right approach, it can make them grow and want to grow. We've also seen this happen with Touya in his childhood, which us another neat parallel.

But, unlike Touya, An has been very comfortable in her role, precisely because of her talent and being able to reach the very high bar raised for her. That comfort just... never made her reach out to something other than the place and the future she was already familiar with, because she never needed to. She was Ken's daughter and she was talented and everyone in town loved her and she promised to be the better than her dad and everyone took her seriously. What else could she possibly need?

In a way, An had her dole cut out to her before she was even born.

And then there's Nagi.

Yes, Nagi is An's role model. But there's more to that than just An looking up to her.

More than just being taught by her, An actually picks up Nagi's mannerisms, forms or speech, and even moral values (pretty much the entire point of Vivid Old Tale).

An saw, too, how much Nagi meant for the people of Vivid Street. She wanted to mean as much for them, too; rather, she already did mean as much, but she needed to be someone to justify being loved. It's not necessarily a conscious thought process but more of a subtle one: if you notice your community loves some traits of you more than the others, or values some aspects of you more, you start to lean more and more into them in order to fit in and be accepted.

For An, those particular traits were being talented, being Ken's daughter, but also... Being very similar to Nagi.

Them acting "like sisters" has been highlighted over

and over

and over again, even by people unfamiliar with Nagi, well into An's teenage years.

And it's not exactly... A complete coincidence on everyone's part. At one point, Nagi openly states she wants An to be like her, to be able to see things from the same perspective. At least to some extent, some of the actions Nagi takes to make that happen are completely deliberate.

So An tries to be like Nagi. This is both a conscious effort on her part and something that just... Is sort of a hidden force that shapes her into who she is. If you watch Nagi and compare even the way she talks with people of the town to the more mature, somewhat-grown up but not quite there yet An we have today... There's so many similarities it's uncanny. An is still much more hot-headed and impulsive, but that caring, considerate side of her shines through even more than before.

An doesn't try to deny or hide that, too. In fact, she's actually pretty proud of it.

(Whether Ken lied to her to make her feel better or if that expression was just a reaction to being reminded of Nagi passing away & the masquerade that followed after that, we'll never know.)

But here's the kicker: there's so much of Nagi in An it's hard to pinpoint where Nagi-san's traits end and An's own personality begins, if it even does. Because of how early has everyone decided on An's future, and because An never did anything to even hint at wanting to do something different (which she didn't! Sometimes people want to continue their family's legacy and that's completely normal and fine - again, she just got really lucky, both with her talent and supportive surroundings), An subconsciously kind of accepted that being like Nagi is... Just who she is.

That comes with taking on Nagi's part in the community, too. In the same way Nagi took care of everyone in town by helping them out at events, so too, does An - just to a much lesser extent, by going out of her way to keep in touch with everyone, going to events, and helping at a cafe, too.

But An doesn't purposely mold or change her personality to be like her role model, too. This is important: An doesn't wear a mask because she doesn't need to. In her mind, she already is like Nagi, or at least, she's on track to be, without doing particularly anything different. Because they're just so similar they're so close and practically behave like sisters, and because An grew up singing in the town exactly like Nagi did, and because she loves the town just like Nagi did - what else could An possibly need to do except get better at singing and get more grown up?

You know, to reach that mature and down-to-earth side of Nagi that we often see in the past?

That side?

Yeah.

Now the Shizuan event's conflict isn't so out of place, is it?

But anyway, back to the point.

Because of Nagi wording things the way she does and because of people on Vivid Street making such a point of their similarities, An naturally assumed she would eventually become like Nagi. This is why, even aside from Kohane's improvement, aside An's abandonment issues, Kick It Up a Notch is a giant slap to the face for An, as well as her wake-up call.

Kohane taking on Nagi's mantle before An was able to, or potentially ever could, isn't just about singing - it's an attempt at An's entire sense of self, just as well as her place in the world, and on the smaller sense, her hometown, too.

Because if An is not Nagi, she doesn't belong.

Because An never knew how to do anything but sing. Because becoming like her family, like Nagi, was the only option she ever imagined for herself ever since she was a child.

And if An is not Nagi, then who the hell is she?

[this post was very much inspired by @the-one-that-weeps 's An analysis post, who kind of put this much more eloquently than I could! Go check them out.

All translated lines that aren't taken from the wiki transcripts are by lozybug on YouTube!]

#jay rambles.txt #jay's character analysis #project sekai #prsk #an shiraishi #vivid bad squad #i spent like a solid 3 hours writing this

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serpenlupus · 2 months

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About Wyll and his horns

Let's say I was writing a part of my Tav's story with Wyll directly connected to the dialogue he has during the tiefling party, and while struggling with this bit, I've realized there's quite a few misconceptions floating around. I felt compelled to add information to the table that might clear them, so here we go.

First, what exactly happens to Wyll when he disobeys Mizora in act one? Well, he doesn't get turned into a devil, he certainly doesn't get turned into a tiefling, he's not a half fiend, not a demon, none of that. Wyll stays human, but he has horns and red eyes (and other features we can't see on his model as of now).

(Everyone has their race listed, Wyll's remains "Human")

This is because when a warlock fails to uphold some part of their contract they can suffer a certain number of consequences, Wylls is “The character grows horns, a tail, or some other devilish features that can't be removed by any means short of divine intervention. As long as these marks persist the character detects as a fiend when subjected to Detect Evil and Good spells or similar magic.” ( from Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus, page 214)

And I’ve come across some people that think it wasn’t so bad of a punishment, that he was being racist towards the tieflings, or just not being justified in being upset after having his body forcibly changed against his will. I think they are missunderstanding just how insidious Mizora’s actions were, and here I just want to give some context to maybe bring a better understanding to the situation. Your conclusions are up to you.

Gonna start by using a not exact analogy, but I think it’s going to make the explanation easier. Stick with me for a minute.

Remember Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean? He had a branded “P” on his arm that marked him as a pirate. A murderer, robber, criminal, etc. in the eyes of the society he was a part of. What did Jack do to earn the branding? (if you don’t know this I suggest you look up the “people aren’t cargo mate” scene) He refused to transport slaves and later freed them, and Beckett had him marked as punishment.

Then, in the first movie, he saves Elizabeth, a woman he didn’t know, from drowning. Right after however, when Norrington sees he has a branded “P”, he’s like “alright, off to jail with you, and then hanging”, no other option crosses his mind. Again, Jack doesn’t know Elizabeth, isn’t indicated to think he is going to be rewarded for helping her, he just sees a drowning person, sees that no one else is going to help, and chooses to save them. That is a pretty selfless/good aligned thing to do, for no other reason that he was the one able to do it, yet the branding in his arm overrides any good action he could ever do, marking him as a criminal for execution and no further thought.

In a way, that’s what Mizora did to Wyll; she forever visibly branded him as someone that has made deals with devils, and that in the world of DnD is a VERY BAD THING. Personally I really like the mod that gives him more devilish features, but at the same time I think there was something clever about choosing to leave him looking more human. He can’t be confused with a tiefling, he doesn’t have the ears, the claws, the tail, all those features that characterize them. He looks kind of uncanny, and that would be like a red flag for anyone in that world. (Beyond the already existing hate for tieflings that I’m not gonna tackle on here because it’s a complicated thing that deserves its own post). And Wyll wants to do good, he wants to help people, to be a positive force in the world so, so badly. This dude got abducted by a nautiloid, got tadpole’d, and the first thing he did right after that was come across the Tiefling refugees and be like “Oh you need help? No worries let me teach you self defense. Oh you being attacked by goblins? Let me blast them real quick”. His way of saying fuck you to all the awful things that have happened to him is being aggressively good and kind. Mizora knows this very well, wants to see him suffer for her amusement, wants to remind him he can't escape her claws, so her choice of punishment was to forever taint his future interactions with mistrust and suspicion. Some people can go real fast from “oh thank God they saved me” to “oh no, are they gonna rob me, are they trying to trick me, are they in cahoots with the ones that attacked me first?” just because of outward appearances. Especially in DnD world. And that deserves its own conversation, but we're focusing on Wyll here.

(Mizora, when I catch you Mizora)

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have made a deal in the first plac- - “ He was seventeen, alone, preyed upon by Mizora and put in an impossible situation. Please PAY ATTENTION to the story you’re witnesing.

Anyway.

About the tieflings. I know it’s easy to think his words can be derisive towards them, but it’s less about the horns and more about his body being changed against his will. Imagine instead that he got half his face burned, or something that disfigured him. I think his feelings at the moment were closer to that, and yeah they are pretty insensitive words to say to someone with a similar condition (horns or disfiguration), but when feelings are fresh and raw like that it’s easy to say insensitive things. Not saying it was ok for him to say those things, but ther was no malice in his words. I’ve also seen some people share that they think Mizora wanted to change him more to make him unrecognizable to his original self, the Wyll Ravenguard kid, and I think there is some truth to that too. She wants to make sure that Wyll remembers that he belongs to her, there's no question to that.

(MIZORA, WHEN I CATCH YOU MIZORA)

Whether the Tieflings refugees would feel unsettled by Wyll or not? Yes. In a way, they would. From reasons aside from the ones I explained above, remember that these specific tieflings come from Elturel. If you didn’t pass the History check or don’t remember, Elturel is a city that was literally ripped from the land and dragged to Avernus, First layer of hell (it left a hole on the ground and everything) because their mayor made a deal with the Archdevil Zariel some decades back in the timeline. He sold the souls of all its citizens and the city itself.

This was probably one of the worst times of their lives. Some even got captured and forced to participate in the blood War, like Dammon as a mechanic. And after Elturel got returned to the surface, the tieflings lost their homes because they reminded the other citizens of the literal Hell they’d just gone through, and they kicked them out. And remember, they met and saw Wyll as a human, and then saw him with horns. It’s not unreasonable to think that by looking at him they would be reminded of all the events that led them to the awful situation they’re in. Because of someone that was making deals with devils, just like Wyll. Even if his situation is completely different. And Wyll knows that, that’s why he tells you the tieflings are unsettled by him and chooses to stay away during the party.

It was never just about the horns.

And I know Wyll calls himself a devil but I think it’s because it’s the closest thing he looks as; devils are a whole different race with their own intricacies, although humans can be turned into devils ONCE their souls go to Avernus and they start climbing the power hierarchy there (Mizora and Raphael are cambions/ half-devils btw, which is a different thing, there are plenty of videos exploring those details more in depth).

Do I think Larian should have made some of this information clearer/easier to access? Maybe? but to be fair, it's a game focused and dedicated to a crowd that was already somewhat familiar with the source material, that blew up waay out of what they originally expected to reach. Hopefully they’ll add some clarifications like they did to other quests.

Anyway these are my two cents to the conversation, have a nice day, and don't hesitate to add your two cents if you feel like it!

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estapa-edwards · 19 days

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HIDDEN FEELINGS - M. ESTAPA

paring: Mark Estapa x fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

requested? yes - mark falling for ethan’s twin sister, and never doing anything out of respect but ethan notices his heart eyes and tells him to go for it

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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The rink is where I feel most alive. The smooth glide of my skates over the ice, the echo of the puck against the boards, the camaraderie of my teammates—hockey is more than a game to me, it’s a way of life. Playing for the University of Michigan has always been a dream, and now, here I am, living it.

I'm the twin sister of Ethan Edwards. Yes, that Ethan Edwards who's a standout player on the University of Michigan hockey team, right alongside Mark Estapa. Growing up, Ethan and I were inseparable. Hockey was our mutual love, and even though we both made it to the university level, we ended up on different teams. Ethan plays as a defenseman, known for his strength and reliability, while I'm a forward, valued for my speed and strategy.

Mark Estapa, on the other hand, is a force to be reckoned with on the ice. As a forward like me, he's got an uncanny ability to read the game, find the gaps in the defense, and score those crucial goals. He’s a great player, and over the seasons, I’ve come to respect and admire his skills.

Our growing friendship, however, didn’t happen overnight. Our two teams would occasionally practice together, and it was during these joint sessions that I began to notice Mark's friendly and approachable nature. We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks.

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One afternoon, after a particularly intense drill, Mark and I found ourselves catching our breaths on the bench.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” Mark said, flashing me a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” I replied, matching his smile.

From there, our conversations became longer and more meaningful. One day, as we were stretching before practice, Mark turned to me with a curious expression.

“So, Y/N, what made you choose Michigan?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“I guess it was a combination of things,” I answered, thinking back to my decision. “The coaching staff here is amazing, and the program has a great reputation. Plus, Ethan being here didn’t hurt,” I added with a playful grin.

Mark chuckled. “I can see how having family around could be a bonus. I chose Michigan for similar reasons. The team has a great dynamic, and the opportunities for growth both as a player and a student are unparalleled.”

Our conversations didn’t just revolve around hockey; we talked about our classes, our hobbies, and our future goals. It was during one of these post-practice chats that Mark opened up about his passion for photography.

“I’ve always loved taking pictures,” he said, showing me some of his recent shots on his phone. “It’s a way for me to capture moments and emotions that words can’t express.”

I was impressed by his talent and passion. “These are amazing, Mark. You have a real eye for it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s something I hope to pursue more seriously someday,” he said, looking slightly vulnerable.

As the weeks went by, our conversations continued to deepen. We shared stories about our families, our dreams, and even our fears. I found myself looking forward to our practice sessions not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with Mark.

We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks. Our teammates began to notice our growing camaraderie, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to tease us about our lengthy conversations.

“You two should just start your own podcast,” Ethan joked one day as he walked past us, a smirk on his face.

Despite the teasing, Mark and I cherished our newfound friendship. Our long conversations became the highlight of my day, and I found myself feeling more and more connected to him with each passing practice.

But lately, it's not just his skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

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Growing up as a twin, you learn the importance of boundaries and loyalty early on. Ethan and I shared everything—our toys, our secrets, our dreams. So, when I first joined the University of Michigan's hockey team and met Mark Estapa, I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. His tall stature, his athletic build, and that charming smile were hard to ignore. But I also knew he was Ethan’s teammate, and I would never do anything to jeopardize their friendship or our family bond.

During those early practices, I would steal glances at Mark, admiring his skill and athleticism on the ice. His dedication and passion for the game were evident, and it only added to his appeal. But each time I felt a flutter in my stomach or caught myself daydreaming about him, I would quickly push those feelings aside, reminding myself of the unspoken rule: teammates were off-limits.

As our teams began to practice together more frequently, Mark and I started to interact more. Our conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable chemistry brewing. I found myself drawn to him not just because of his looks but also because of his personality. He was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in getting to know me.

Despite these growing feelings, I was determined to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want to create any awkwardness or tension within the team, especially given Ethan’s close friendship with Mark.

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MARKS POV

The first time Y/n Edwards and I really talked was during one of those joint practices. I remember it well— we were both catching our breath on the bench after a tough drill. I looked over at Y/N, and for the first time, I saw her not just as Ethan's twin sister but as Y/N Edwards, an incredible player in her own right.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” I said, trying to initiate a conversation.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” she replied, matching my smile.

In that moment, something shifted. Her smile, her wit, the way she talked about hockey—it all captivated me. She was more than just a talented player; she was someone I wanted to get to know on a deeper level.

As we continued to chat, our conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything from our reasons for choosing Michigan to our hobbies and interests outside of hockey. I was genuinely intrigued by her, and I found myself wanting to learn more about the person behind the player.

But as much as I was drawn to Y/N, I knew I had to tread carefully. She was Ethan's sister, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries or make things awkward within the team. So, I tried to keep our interactions friendly and professional, all while secretly hoping for more.

The more I got to know Y/N, the harder it became to ignore my growing feelings for her. Her intelligence, her passion for the game, and her kind-hearted nature made her irresistibly attractive to me. But I also knew that acting on my feelings could complicate things, and I didn't want to risk our friendship or create any tension within the team.

Despite these internal struggles, I couldn’t deny the connection I felt with Y/N. Each conversation, each laugh, each shared moment only deepened my admiration and affection for her. I found myself looking forward to our joint practices not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with her.

But lately, it's not just her skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

During one of our joint practices, we were waiting for our turn to jump onto the ice for the next drill. Y/N was leaning against the boards, lacing up her skates, completely engrossed in her task. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on her face and highlighting the golden undertones in her hair.

I couldn’t help but stare.

She looked up, catching my gaze, and flashed me a quick smile before returning her attention to her skates. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed my lingering gaze.

As we took to the ice for the next drill, I found myself distracted, my thoughts consumed by the simple beauty of that moment. Y/N's natural grace and poise, even in something as mundane as lacing up her skates, left me in awe.

I knew I was treading dangerous waters, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but be captivated by her beauty. She was more than just a talented hockey player; she was a vision of grace and elegance that I found myself drawn to, unable to look away.

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Y/N POV

I found myself watching Mark as he talked with some of our teammates. He was animated, gesturing with his hands and laughing at something someone had said. I was captivated by his energy and charisma, and for a moment, I lost myself in the way the sunlight caught the highlights in his hair and how his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Ethan approaching until he spoke, "You okay, Y/N? You seem a little distracted."

Startled, I quickly looked away from Mark, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

Ethan gave me a knowing smile but didn’t press further. "Alright, just making sure," he said, patting me gently on the shoulder before heading back to the group.

Relieved that Ethan hadn’t called me out on my obvious distraction, I took a deep breath and refocused on the practice. But even as I skated back onto the ice, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was becoming more than just a teammate to me.

One evening, I found myself at Ethan's apartment, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch a movie. Ethan had invited some of his teammates over, including Mark, to hang out and relax after a grueling week of practice and games.

As I settled into the comfortable cushions, Mark walked into the living room, a casual smile on his face. He greeted everyone warmly before taking a seat on the armchair opposite the couch. Our eyes met briefly, and a subtle spark passed between us, but we both quickly looked away, maintaining a friendly distance in front of Ethan and the others.

As the movie started to play, Ethan and Mark began discussing a recent game, dissecting plays and strategies with the kind of intensity only true hockey enthusiasts possess. I found myself drawn into the conversation, sharing my own insights and opinions, and soon, Mark and I were engaged in our own little world of hockey talk, much to Ethan's amusement.

Throughout the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mark, admiring his easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in our conversation. His laughter was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him, feeling a connection that went beyond our shared love for hockey.

Despite the casual setting and the presence of Ethan and the others, I couldn’t ignore the growing tension between Mark and me. It was as if we were dancing around the undeniable chemistry that had been building between us, both of us aware of the line we were toeing but unwilling to cross it in front of Ethan and our teammates.

As the evening wore on and the movie came to an end, I realized that my feelings for Mark were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just a teammate or Ethan’s friend; he was someone I genuinely cared about, and I found myself looking forward to the next opportunity to spend time with him, both on and off the ice.

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ETHANS POV

As the evening unfolded in my apartment, I couldn't help but notice the subtle undercurrents between Mark and Y/N. From my vantage point on the couch, I could see the way they exchanged glances when they thought no one was looking, the way their laughter seemed to echo in sync, and the way they both seemed completely engrossed in their own world, despite the presence of our teammates.

At first, I brushed it off as mere camaraderie—after all, they were both passionate about hockey and had been spending a lot of time together at practices. But as the evening wore on, I began to sense something more—a genuine connection that went beyond friendship.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something Mark had said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Then I looked at Mark, who was smiling back at her, his eyes softening in a way I had never seen before. It was clear that there was something special between them, something that went beyond the confines of the rink and our hockey team.

As Y/N and Mark continued to talk and laugh together, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity. Mark was my teammate and one of my closest friends, and Y/N was my twin sister. The thought of them being more than just friends was unexpected, but the more I observed their interactions, the more it made sense.

Despite my initial reservations, I couldn’t deny the connection between them. They seemed to complement each other in a way that was both surprising and endearing. And as much as it caught me off guard, I found myself rooting for them, hoping that they would find happiness together, both on and off the ice.

As the evening came to an end and everyone started to say their goodbyes, I pulled Mark aside for a moment.

"Hey, man, are you and Y/N...you know, getting close?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Mark looked slightly taken aback but then smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yeah, I think we are," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Well, as long as you're both happy, that's all that matters," I replied,

"Are you serious? I was so scared to tell you that I think I'm falling for her." Mark said.

I looked at Mark, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. His eyes were sincere, and I could see the genuine concern in them.

"Mark, I had no idea you felt that way," I said, feeling a pang of guilt for not noticing his hesitation earlier. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that."

Mark chuckled softly, his smile returning but with a slightly nervous edge. "It's okay, Ethan. I guess I've just been overthinking things. I really care about Y/N, and I didn't want to mess things up, especially since we're teammates and she's your sister."

I clapped Mark on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Look, as surprising as it is, I'm actually really happy for you two. Y/N deserves someone who genuinely cares about her, and I can see that you do. Just promise me you'll treat her right, okay?"

Mark nodded earnestly, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise, Ethan. She means a lot to me, and I want to do right by her."

Feeling reassured, I smiled at Mark, grateful for his honesty and commitment to Y/N. "Alright then, I trust you. Just remember, if you ever hurt her, you'll have to answer to me," I added with a playful smirk.

Mark laughed, his tension finally breaking. "Understood, Captain."

As we rejoined the others to say our final goodbyes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. Despite the unexpected turn of events, I was genuinely happy for Y/N and Mark. They had found something special in each other, and as their friend and brother, I couldn't wait to see where their relationship would lead.

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Y/N POV

As we approached my apartment building, the atmosphere between Mark and me had shifted subtly. There was a sense of anticipation, a tangible connection that seemed to be growing stronger with each step we took. When we reached the entrance, Mark stopped and turned to face me, his blue eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice slightly shaky but sincere. "Earlier, when Ethan asked me if we were getting close, I told him that I think I'm falling for you."

I felt my heart leap in my chest, a rush of emotions surging through me. His confession was unexpected but also exhilarating, confirming the feelings I had been trying to suppress.

"Mark," I started, searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... I think I'm falling for you too."

The moment the words left my lips, a wide smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes lighting up with joy and relief.

"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

I nodded, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "Yes, really. I've been trying to ignore my feelings, but the truth is, I've been falling for you too, Mark."

A look of pure happiness washed over Mark's face, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, cupping my face gently with his hands. "Y/N, I'm so glad to hear that," he whispered, his eyes locked onto mine.

Feeling emboldened by our mutual confession, I leaned in, closing the distance between us, and our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a simple yet powerful affirmation of the connection we had both been feeling but had been too afraid to acknowledge until now.

As we pulled apart, our faces flushed and smiles wide, Mark looked into my eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked, my voice soft and inviting, the words coming out almost on their own accord, as if guided by the newfound courage and excitement that bubbled within me.

Mark's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but he hesitated for a moment, wanting to be respectful of the situation and our budding relationship.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and caution.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, I'm sure," I replied, feeling a surge of boldness.

A broad smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "I'd love to," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

Taking my hand in his, Mark followed me into the building, our fingers intertwined as we headed up to my apartment.

#mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa x reader #umich wolverines #umich hockey #umich boys

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linomilkers · 11 months

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Hiiiii! This is Minho/Reader/Felix Everyone is touching everyone! Hope you like it!

Minho reflects on how he found these two often.

Sometimes, it feels as though they just appeared one day; Y/N and Felix both, bare faced and precious sitting on his step waiting for him to open the door. Like two oddly domesticated stray cats, they were patient and sweet, looking for food and a warm place to stay for the night. A bonded pair that couldn't be separated -- two that you would have to adopt together or it would just be cruel.

The reality of it is that Minho needed roommates and Chan told him he knew two people whose lease was almost up at their apartment. He got their information, he contacted them, they decided to meet up for coffee in a public area more for their comfort than his own (Chan not only knew them but spoke highly of them, so he felt comfortable with seeing them face to face). The only warning he was given is that these two were a pair, through-and-through, if he didn't like one of them then it wouldn't work and he would have to find two different people to split the cost of his rent. He had figured as much but the warning had made complete and total sense only when he speaks to them.

Minho wasn't going into this blindly, he did do a fair amount of stalking through their socials to see what he was getting into before he sent them the message. They were all over each other's pages, he could tell they were very close with one another and they had been for a long while. Their aesthetics were similar, what they liked correlated with what the other liked, both of them had bright smiles, and allegedly (claimed by Chan) contagious laughs. They seemed exactly like two people Chan would like and potentially two people that Minho himself might feel put off by; extroverted, loud, too forward and possibly clingy. Maybe not though - he's willing to give it a chance - to see.

He's the one with the upper-hand in this so it makes him feel more confident in introducing himself. The first thing he notices, besides that they were both in sweats and zip-up hoodies that may not have anything underneath, is that their hands were soft. Both of them must use the same scrub, he'd reasoned, because that's the only way either of them could have these baby soft hands. That's not the only thing they share either -- they have the same big eyes that follow every word his lips form to make, and the same giggle when he makes a joke, and the same twist of their head when they were curious. Honestly, it's almost uncanny; it would be enough to make him wonder had they been built in a lab to mirror each other if their personalities weren't in such stark contrast with one another.

Where Felix was more reserved, Y/N was open. She would ask questions it looked like Felix wanted to but couldn't find the wording for -- he only came to this conclusion by the way he nods eagerly when she phrases them. Almost as if she were siphoning the question right from his brain. It's really solidified when they bring out the wrong drink. While Felix was content with choking down whatever dark coffee they'd handed him, Y/N pouted her mouth and slid it from him, "You hate this," she told him, almost like she was reminding him, before excusing herself from the table and going up to the register.

In that time alone, Felix regarded him meekly, "It's one of her charms," he opened up to tell him, "If you're worried about asking for something, she'll handle it, so like -- y'know, if you're ever in an argument with the landlord, she'll go at it too. She's good at getting what she wants."

"Good to know," Minho muses, his eyes followed her, he watched closely as she interacted with the staff and strained his ears, catching words like sorry, but this isn't, and yes, with the sweet cream, thank you so much.

By the end of it, Minho had pretty much made up his mind. They were kind, they weren't too obnoxious, and he thinks he could get along with both of them well enough. All of the ground rules that he had set, they agreed to without hesitation or question (things that made him feel like an old man, like keeping the noise down after 9PM, taking turns with chores, not leaving shoes in front of the door for him to trip over and break a hip or something). He asks them when their lease ends and when they could move in, and both of them seem ecstatic, all big smiles and gleaming eyes that for sure don't make his heart race, not even a little bit.

"It was nice to meet you," Y/N grinned gently, twiddling her fingers in a wave, "Kind of wish it was mentioned that you were so cute, I would have dressed better."

"Y/N," Felix gave an exasperated sigh, swatting her shoulder, "Chan said no flirting."

"I'm not flirting! It was a compliment."

Minho's ears betray him, burning bright red as he tilted his face down, shy. Chan had given him a warning about that too, just a brief one, that being flirtatious was their default setting. He said he could handle it because honestly, that was Jisung's default setting too and he managed him just fine. But his heart thuds hard in his chest and he feels a pleasant tickle beneath his skin. He brushes it away, tells them that it was great to meet them and he'd be contacting them soon with his address so they could come see it in person before signing any contracts.

That was all a few months ago. They moved in shortly after, Chan and Minho themselves did most of the heavy lifting because Y/N and Felix were struggling with even the smaller boxes. But they moved quickly, and their first night they had most of the furniture in their room packed and their walls decorated. Felix was more minimalistic in his approach, with art pieces and wall sculptures that he strategically placed along his walls. Y/N's taste was far more eclectic and very filling -- he could tell right away that she liked to have things on her walls, plugging the empty space. He didn't know them well at this point, but he did know that their bedrooms suited them.

Before Chan left that night, he squeezed his shoulder with a big dopey grin, "Good luck with them," he patted him, "They'll probably try to sleep with you, so do with that as you will. See you later."

He leaves without a word more, and Minho is left to chew over that for the rest of the night.

And he would love to say he wasn't sure how their roommate situation had warped into what it was, but if he really looks back on it, it's clear. Chan warned him, right off the bat he told him, and Minho had brushed it off as him teasing him. The first few weeks they were getting their footing, finding their place in his home and with him. He knew he could be hard to read and typically maintained a more aloof look to him, but they seemed unperturbed by it. Either they were really good at reading people or they were just really good at reading him, and the longer they stayed the more they had him figured out. When to poke and tease him, when to leave him be, how to make him laugh, how to piss him off.

Felix made pudding for him after Minho mentioned liking it once and it left him feeling special and full. It was creamy and smooth and he is certain he ate the most of it out of the three of them. Every time he complimented the taste, Felix bristled with delight and smiled like he'd been handed a star. It was endearing -- it made his heart twitch, but, as he did with most things, Minho ignored it. He makes him a lot of things to eat, sweets mostly, and Minho swears he's getting softer around his hips because of it.

Y/N shows her care in different ways. It's almost randomized, weird things that Minho made offhanded comments about needing or wanting and a few days later it was in the apartment. She never mentioned that it was her who purchased it -- he would find a new meat tenderizer in the kitchen, ask where it came from and Felix would let him know Y/N picked one up.His laundry will be neatly folded and set on his bed if he forgets it in the dryer. When he tore a hole in the pocket of his favorite jacket, two days later it was repaired, seamlessly stitched up. The only reason he knew it was Y/N's doing was the pin cushion and threads he saw on her dresser, when he brought a package to her room for her.

They both were touchy, with each other and with him. Minho can't think of a time that they were all three watching a movie together where the two of them weren't a twist tangled limbs. Y/N was either stretched out over Felix's lap or Felix had his head against her chest, or maybe one of them was just stretched out on top of the other. Sometimes (only sometimes, definitely not all the time) he wondered what it would be like to swap places with one of them. To be the side Y/N snuggled into, or the stomach Felix burrowed his face in, or better yet - be sandwiched in between them both - but he never voices it. They were affectionate with him in small doses, doing a little more each time, like they were seeing how much he would tolerate. Y/N will invade his spot on the couch and throw her legs over his lap if she's feeling particularly brave. Felix will hug him before they part ways for the night, squeezing around his upper half tightly.

Honestly, their relationship kind of confuses him. He doesn't know if they were together or not and he doesn't ask because it isn't his business. . .but he would like to know. Because if they were, was he supposed to tell Y/N that Felix had a habit of playing footsie with him under the dinner table if they eat together? Running his feet carefully along the side of his calf, continuing the conversation like nothing was amiss, only smiling at Minho when he locks eyes with him. Was he supposed to tell Felix that Y/N's gaze was lingering on him, eyes wandering over his body after he comes home from working out, maybe taking too long to avert her gaze if she sees him walk from his bedroom the the laundry closet in a towel.

Chan is absolutely no help. He laughed at him, said something along the lines of, "Yeah, they're kind of just like that." And leaves it there. When he's forced to do more digging, he asks Seungmin's thoughts on the pair.

Before he answered, he sighed like the mere thought of responding was tiring to him, "They are and they aren't," he replied plainly, and probably would have stopped there had Minho not glared at him, "It's complicated, you should know that by now. Sometimes they have sex with the same people -- I've only seen them date separately a few times." He pulled the drink in front of him to his mouth, taking a sip from his straw and wincing at the bitter taste (Minho's unsure why he continues to get coffee with how much he hates it), "More often than not, they're going for people as a pair though; they've slept with Chan, did you know that?"

No, Minho didn't know that, but after the revelation he struggles not to think about it. How they may have propositioned Chan; Felix soft and quiet, snuggling into his side, batting his big eyes at him. Y/N more forward, pressing into him, straddling his lap and nuzzling at his throat. Both needy and cute, pawing at him, his cock -- he wonders who kissed him first. Was it Y/N, smearing her lips over him warm and sweet? Did she lure him with sweet words how she coaxes Minho to cook a new dish she's worried she'll mess up herself? Or did Felix find comfort in Chan's familiarity and press his mouth against him, firm but tender? Was he gentle? His hand pressed to his cheek, his chest to his chest?

He could see them both, on their knees, their pretty mouths open and lulling over his cock --

But he has to stop himself before he gets too far into it. These were his friends, he shouldn't be thinking about them like that, even if the thought made him harder than he's ever been in his life. Plus, he has trouble not replacing Chan with himself and that causes a whole slew of thoughts to disrupt his mind. Like morning woods that wouldn't go down even when he thinks about giving speeches in front of full auditoriums, or meeting the president (or something like that). Ones that he had to press his hips into the mattress because of, chase after an orgasm that his sleepy weighted mind begged for, before one of them wandered into his room.

Minho never thought that they would go for him. They'd never made the move to and he thinks they had plenty of chances, so he figured maybe he just wasn't their type. Or maybe they knew that doing something like that when all three of them live together would lead to trouble. Whatever their reasoning, Minho thinks it is for the best, and tries to ignore the distant twist in his chest that might suggest he's hurt by it.

They were out for drinks when it happened. Minho doesn't go out a lot but when he does, it was because Y/N and Felix had some how goaded him into it. So after a fair amount of whining and pleading, he let them pick out his outfit (they loved him in double denim, for whatever reason, and Felix is throwing the top at him from his closet while Y/N was pulling the pants from his drawer, and he should really get on them for rummaging through his things but for some reason he doesn't), they left the flat, and they went out. It wasn't just the three of them, of course, Chan was there, Jisung too, and Changbin -- frat guys through and through they were always game for drinks.

Y/N and Felix work the room as they usually do, fluttering out into the crowded space, chatting people up that they knew, that they didn't know -- Minho watches from the side. Chan teases him over it, "Are you their bodyguard?" He inquired, like he had any room to poke fun at someone for seeming protective.

"You'll need a bodyguard if you question me again."

Chan laughs because of course he does, and wiggles up to Minho, worming his arms around him and squeezing his limp but pliant frame, "I'm glad the three of you are getting along. I knew you'd like them."

Did you think I'd like them as much as you did? He wants to ask, Did you think I'd have fucked them by now?

He held his tongue, "Yeah," he replied instead, "It's going well."

At some point throughout the night, Minho had caught sight of Y/N talking to some guy near the bar. She was doing that thing she does, with her eyes, where she's treating him like he might be the only person in the world. Her gaze flickers from his eyes to his mouth, she leans in close, laughs like he's the funniest person in the room (Minho hardly believes that's the case), and he feels something in his gut twist unpleasantly. Now that he thinks about it, he's never seen them actively pursue someone -- not Y/N, nor Felix. He doesn't like it, but it's none of his business, so he drags his gaze away and to the drink he nurses in his hand (he hadn't taken a sip of it for thirty minutes at this point). He would probably head home -- Chan would make sure that they pair returned safely, that is, if one of them (or both of them) didn't end up in someone else's be--

"We'll go home, y'know," Felix startled Minho from his left side, where he'd quietly slid into the booth next to him, his voice deep, low and syrupy, "If you want to, all you'd have to do is text her. It doesn't matter who she's talking to."

Minho turned to look at Felix -- he blinks a few times, rapidly, as if he were readjusting his eyes going inside after being out in the sun for hours. Felix was in a mesh top that didn't hide much of anything, chest out, nipples pebbled from rubbing against the fabric and the cold air in the spot they were in. His sleeves ballooned out, prince-like in structure, to match his prince-like face. His lips look soft and bitten, like he'd been nibbling at them all night -- he has such a bad habit of that. . .not that Minho is staring at his lips, or anything.

"Why would I want to do that?" Minho inquired, forcing himself to sound impassive, but his heart was thundering in his chest.

Felix shrugged, "I was just telling you," he replied, before reaching for Minho's phone on the table, "She'll do anything you want. She's whipped."

Felix is normally much more shy than he was being now; more quiet, and reserved. Lines like that were saved for Y/N when she was feeling bratty and whiny because Felix let Minho pick which sweet he was baking that day, "You're just whipped for him," she'd accuse theatrically, "You'd do anything he wants, even if it was to push me off a cliff!"

Minho lets him take his phone, and watches as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, finding Y/N's contact and typing a message out.

Ready to leave

"Doesn't she want to go home with him?" Minho asks, brows knitted when Felix sent the message, "Why would she leave just because I wanted to?"

"She doesn't want to go home with him, she's just trying to make us jealous."

Make us jealous.

"Oh."

"He's not her type." Felix replied.

"What is her type?" Minho presses, but he shouldn't -- he should really stop talking.

"You," Felix answered easily, "Me."

"Chan too?" He should just shut up.

Felix stops at that, but he doesn't seem caught off guard, or even worried that Minho knew. Instead he smiles gently, leaning further into Minho's body, snuggled close, pressing his face into his bicep, "Watch her, Hyung," he murmured, directing his gaze from where Felix clings to him back across the bar. Y/N's reaching into her bag, holding out a finger to the guy she was speaking to. Her eyes glance over her screen, her lips curl into a smile, and Minho watches in a daze as she says something to the guy, waves, and pivots on her heel. She's facing him and Felix and looks so excited, like they didn't just tell her the night was over. She was wearing something similar to Felix, the top half in mesh but a bralette beneath it to hide her breasts. They always kind of match, when they go out, but still appear unique, within their own styles.

Y/N holds her hands out to both of them, wiggling her fingers, "Let's go home," she sighs, almost dreamy, like she'd been waiting for him to say it.

The walk to the car, Minho's heart still thunders -- he's got them on either side of him, hanging off his arm. Felix has his elbow hooked around Minhos left, while Y/N holds onto the forearm of his right with both hands. They giggle about something he doesn't know, and he's pressing them both into the car (he'd only had one drink, and the pleasant, fuzzy feeling he'd gotten from it had wither away just as quickly as it'd come).

"Do you wanna hang out with us in the living room?" Y/N asks, sitting forward from where she was seat belted in, her hands on either seat in front of her, "Minnie? I wanna keep hanging out."

"Sure." Has he ever been able to say no to them? He doesn't think so.

They're all over the place; Minho sat on the couch, Y/N was beside him but she was stretched out, her head in his lap, cheek resting on his thigh. The skirt of her dress had rucked up, showing more of her thighs than he thinks she probably meant to. Felix moved around, from the floor, to the recliner, sat on the coffee table, then finally settled by straddling Y/N's hips. Y/N groaned from the additional weight but accommodated him, twisting her hips so he rested more comfortably.

"Kiss me," Felix whined, pouting his mouth, and Y/N puckered up easily. She always does -- they share sweet little kisses like this all the time, that wasn't new. Small pecks, because Felix is needy and clingy and Y/N is pliant to his wants.

What's different is that they are never kissing in his lap, this close to his cock. What's different is that instead of just a peck, Felix is nibbling at her mouth, he's licking over her lips with his tongue until she parts them and he's slinking into her mouth. It's wet, Felix groans and Y/N mewls into it, his hands are placed -- one on her hip and one on Minho's thigh, digging the pads of his fingers into him. Minho can't pull his eyes away, even when he knows he should -- even when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he's struggling not to make a noise. He's barely letting out a breath, like if he even moves a little bit they'll remember he's here and stop.

And he wants it -- god he wants it. To be apart of them, in between them, on top of them, beneath them; he'd never realized how much he wanted it until right now. His fingers curl up at his sides, watching them closely, and when Felix finally pulls away to breath there's a thin string of spit connecting their lips. Minho so badly wants to lick it away.

Felix's mouth is all spit slicked and shiny, red, starting to swell. His face is flushed and he paws at her shoulders, but he's looking at Minho. He leans close, but he's slow about it, measured, like he's giving Minho an out but he isn't moving. Minho stays still, and he waits, until Felix is just a breath away and then he's smearing his mouth over his lips.

It's good -- Felix's lips are soft, and gentle. He isn't as eager to slide his tongue into Minho's mouth as he had been with Y/N, but he still pours himself into it. Minho can't think straight, not when he thinks he stopped breathing altogether, and not when Felix finally does lick at his mouth, slide his tongue between his lips, taste the fruity cocktail that Minho had drank. He let Felix set the pace, guide him, and he thinks they probably would have kept going until one of them passed out from both breathing if not for Y/N whining.

It was a muffled sound, and Minho didn't realize why it was muffled until they did part. He looked down where Y/N was staring at him, wide eyes, her mouth stuffed with two of Felix's fingers. Felix giggles, fucking his fingers into her mouth for three shallow thrusts before slipping them out. He pinches at her bottom lip, "She wants kisses too," Felix murmured, "When we fuck and I bring up you kissing her, she always squeezes tighter around me."

"Shut up," she complained, turning to look back at Minho, tilting her head, "Lix always cums harder when I fuck him with my fingers and bring you up."

Felix is already flushed but doesn't seem ashamed, he only hums and presses his fingers back into her mouth, pressing on her tongue, "Don't be a brat," he tells her, "We should be good for him, right? Don't you want to kiss him?" Y/N nodded, "Do you want to kiss her Minnie?"

Minho nods, "I do," he replied."

So they rearrange, and Y/N crawls into Minho's lap and she's on him quick. It's different than Felix, she yields to him easier, lets him guide the kiss more. Minho's head is spinning, Y/N tastes sweet, eager, lulls her tongue around his and rocks against him. Minho grabs her hips, and Felix presses back against Minho's side, snuggling against him. Minho is the one that has to pull back to breathe, sucking in lung fulls of Y/N's air, trying to ground himself in the squeeze of Y/N's hips, "Minnie," Y/N murmurs the nickname, sweet and soft, biting over his bottom lip, "Do you want us?"

"If you don't that's okay," Felix assures him, stroking up and down his arm, "We can forget about this and just cuddle."

Minho doesn't have to think for even a second.

"Yes," he tells them, "Yes, I want you both."

#stray kids smut #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix x y/n

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bubblybloob · 4 months

Text

Whoop I finished my reverse Damsel idea. I briefly discussed her in two other posts but I’m going to go further into her here with a better grasp on what she’s about

Pretty long ramble below, so watch out.

Basically, instead of warning her/resisting the Narrator in chapter 1, you, thinking you can’t overpower him, attempt to slay yourself. The Princesses stares at you in horror as you cut into your own neck (this is the route where you don’t initially bring the knife so she’s the more sympathetic version).

She attempts to wrench the blade from you because she has no idea why you’re doing this and doesn’t want you to die. Whether or not she gets the knife though doesn’t matter, because it’s too late and you die.

(Still am stuck on what sort of voice I want. Had a lot of suggestions on stuff like a Martyr sort of voice or one similar to the old Meek voice but the problem mostly stems from characterizing them in a different way to the other voices, which is something I can’t figure out given the situation).

Chapter 2 is titled “The Fae”.

The main room is primarily made of stone, with many unidentifiable chiseled metals and rock, but you don’t stay here for long, nor get given the option of taking the blade, as choosing to approach the blade or the basement will activate a trapdoor that will send you falling to your death. Just as you’re about to meet your demise, something grabs your palm. Looking up, you see the princess, swinging from the ceiling with you in hand.

The Fae is strange, originally she was going to be similarly shallow in nature like the Damsel, but I would compare her uncanniness more to the Razor, with a constant smile, eerie stare, and maybe an off putting voice.

She’s pretty blunt on what she wants, the satisfaction of saving you from this awful cabin and leaving together! Despite her more than ginger attitude towards you (she acts like you are made of glass), she’s actually quite egotistical, with her occasionally praising herself and puffing up whenever she receives applause from you.

She makes unintentional jabs at your incompetency and reminds you “it’s not your fault you’re not cut out for this, really! I’ll get us out of here my handsome corvid!” and sort of talks down to you and always acts like she’s the smartest in the room (and she probably is depending on what voice I make up for the route). She’s also weirdly fixated on your safety and goes above and beyond to protect you from even the smallest splinter, she’d act like you were dying if you got so much as a scratch.

(All of her traits are exacerbated to a worse degree in chapter 3).

Edit: I forgot to mention all of her behavior is inspired by the fae. I forgot that some people aren’t as well versed in fae lore. Fae are, from what I have heard, pretty selfish, manipulative, and possessive all while being downright ethereal, so I gave her a dose of all of those traits and toned it down a smidge.

Her appearance is also meant to be slightly unnerving. She has long elf like ears and eyes that are surrounded by shadow, with large black pits in the center of her eye that are impossible to tell if they are part of her pupil or not. She also gives off a very faint, white light, it’s almost imperceptible but it’s there.

Her dress is more of a skirt than anything with a sash that has long ribbon like ends that are every length all at once at any given time. They easily wrap themselves around objects even if it shouldn’t be physically possible, and she uses them to swing from the ceiling (spider princesses). Her “crown” is made up of a few translucent butterflies that seem attracted to her like magnets, occasionally they flutter about but usually they sit on her head.

I like to think that there are hints to the fact her butterflies aren’t real, just extensions of herself. They might flicker in and out of existence if she’s upset with you or stressed about something.

Another thing of note, like with some other princesses like Nightmare or Thorn or something, she has no chain. (Maybe there’s some creepy dialogue option where she reveals she broke it with her teeth or something more crazy).

Anyway, the princesses states that everything is fine and that this time around she’s going to be the one to rescue you. She fully intends for both of you to escape, and for you to just follow her lead, because she’s going to make sure you’re alright and that nothing will hurt you.

If you follow along she will save you from the dangers ahead, the basement of the cabin has been increased in size and there are rooms with rolling boulders, pits of spikes, etc. These sections aren’t too long, there’s probably like five explore options along with two or three choices you can make per room and there’s only like three of said rooms.

At the end she literally carries you out of the cabin and swings you around all like “We did it! I’m out and you’re safe! Not even a scratch on you, didn’t I do a good job?” Before mentioning how cold it is and getting taken to Ohio by the Shifting Mound.

There is another way this can end however. There are two potential ways to get to this I think.

If you keep questioning her when shes says something’s wrong at some point you get killed by some random trap while you’re distracted. You get killed and probably end up with the Skeptic.

If you don’t let her do the work and instead try to do too many things yourself you also eventually get killed by a trap and probably end up with Stubborn or Contrarian depending on your actions.

There might be a different third chapter that you can get to from another princess but idk what it would be so I’m sticking with the more direct continuation chapter.

You still don’t get the knife here and fall through another trapdoor. This time she doesn’t catch you and instead has already prepared something beneath where you fall to catch you. It’s probably just a plush room, somewhat reminiscent of the Stranger route’s soft stairs, but less existentially horrifying.

Here the princess thinks that maybe leaving the cabin with her is why you keep dying and so tries to convince you staying is the only option and that something bigger is trying to kill you off when you try to leave with her (she’s not wrong that there’s something bigger at play but she isn’t exactly right either). She’s too selfish to just let you leave without her even if her weird logic states that you’d be fine as long as she doesn’t leave with you, so all protests are shut down and she tries to force you if you complain.

If you got Skeptic there is the option of actually convincing her and that no matter what you’ll listen to her every word and you’ll escape together. She’ll listen and similar events to last time will play out, only this time the traps are deadlier but are made much more traversable due to the fact that she gives no fucks and will destroy every obstacle with ease. This time you actually leave and once again Ohio comes and gets her (I like to imagine The Narrator pulls the locked basement door trick and here she just punches through it and stares expectantly at you to turn handle from the other side with the newly created hole).

If you have Stubborn you can attempt to fight her. It probably won’t work at first because she’s the literal fae. But the Narrator, knowing you’re trying to fight now, will make the blade magically fall from the same trapdoor you fell from. And its iron touch can sizzle faerie skin. She doesn’t necessarily want to fight you, but if she has to rough you up some to get you to see things her way, she’ll do it. If you fuck up you’ll probably break something that you need to move or attack with and lose the fight, and she gets taken. If you don’t fuck up and win, same result except she’s got a knife in her chest when the mound comes and nabs her.

With Contrarian you choose to stay with her because funny boy wants to mess with the Narrator. I think maybe one of the traps somehow ends up infiltrating whatever “safe room” you’re in (probably because you’re thoughts spiraling on the thought of not actually being safe and dying again because that’s all you’ve done so far, so your perception kills you. Not sure what trap would kill you, maybe the rolling boulder crashes through the roof or something idk) and ends up fatally wounding you, making it the third time she couldn’t protect you, she stands over your body because “I had this planned, you should’ve been safe, how could this happen???” Before Ohio comes.

Whatever ending you get, she will make for a courageous heart.

I like to think you can kill her with Contrarian and get stuck with her with Stubborn, it’s just that they’d prefer and encourage you to do the opposite. The Skeptic is the only one where you can actually try to leave with her, again you can do the other options but having him is the only path where you can try to escape in the 3rd chapter.

I do have a 3rd chapter design in mind, but I’ll probably need to work on it some.

#slay the princess #stp the princess #art #my art #The Fae #this was a long one wow #I took well over an hour typing all of that #because I’m insane

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utilitycaster · 1 month

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Speaking of Laura and Marisha having relatively weak chemistry, which CR cast members do you think have the strongest chemistry (romantic or otherwise) across campaigns?

I've tried to limit this because I could literally name a great relationship for basically every cast pairing at this point, but some of my favorites. To keep things balanced, I've done a sort of circle situation with two pairings per cast member. I also haven't included Matt just because I think it would be weird because as DM he has to play off everyone well, and he does.

Travis and Liam always have something bizarrely intense and it's different every single time and it's never quite romantic (other than Bertrand/Lieve'tel) but it is, frequently, homoerotic. Obviously most present for Fjord and Caleb and particularly their conversation in the Xhorhaus, but the "I want to give you an experience" line in late Campaign VM and Chetney and Orym's conversation in the Heartmoor are two examples.

Ashley and Travis are also always good; Pike and Grog are legendary for a reason, Fearne and Chetney have some extremely fun stuff going on but can also take it to more serious places, notably their discussion after Ashton's shard absorption attempt. and Fjord and Yasha didn't interact a ton but their few moments (I'm specifically thinking their shopping trip around episode 108 or 109?) are stellar.

Sam and Ashley have the same quality I think Liam and Travis have, namely, they are on some level playing chicken with each other and neither will back down. We see this with Pikelan; my favorite interaction is Pike being mad at Scanlan after he returns from his Meat Man era. Pike and Tary and the flashcards to remember VM is also a legendary scene for a reason. Veth and Yasha have some unbelievably funny conversations (I killed my whole family, I'll throw you under a bridge) and FCG and Fearne have run the gamut from poignant (post-Otohan Fight) to ridiculous (Fearne riding FCG around and using them as a thermos; honestly, the latest Otohan encounter somehow straddled these two vibes).

Laura and Sam should be a legendary cast pairing. They tend to play in a similar space thematically and they also keep overlapping in some sort of stat or outlook as well, without ever playing characters who knew each other beforehand. It's uncanny. We had Vex and Scanlan as Vox Machina's Charm (highlight being Vex's reaction during Bard's Lament). Vex and Tary becoming best friends and opening a bakery. Jester and Veth's shenanigans and deep friendship (messing around in that temple in Zadash; Jester confiding in her about Fjord kissing her; that one time where they encountered the syphilis bandits and kept running past each other in the dark; Jester taking the flask; and many more). And FCG and Imogen's early campaign closeness, with Imogen insisting on FCG's personhood and the two of them doing mind and dream stuff together.

Taliesin and Laura, unsurprisingly given the appeal of Perc'ahlia, are always great as well. Their willingness as Percy and Vex to be incredibly honest with each other, even about their darker traits, is commendable. Molly and Jester were fascinating because I don't think he respected her much but he did enjoy her company, and she admired him greatly. Team Cleric was also, naturally, a great duo, and I particularly think of them both returning to their respective thematic wells of closed-offness and recognizing it in each other, but going to other places to open up. We didn't get a ton of Kingsley, but he and Jester seem to get along pretty well! And Imogen and Ashton's standout moment was post-shard, but they also had a really good conversation after All-Minds-Burn, and I think they are able to embrace the tension regarding their different idealizations of estranged parents as seen in the latest episode.

Marisha and Taliesin are also really unafraid to explore conflict with each other, and it enhances their character interactions. Percy and Keyleth's friendship is fascinating because it seems that pre-stream they were quite close, but once the Briarwoods arc hit they often found themselves at odds and played off each other brilliantly. I love Molly and Beau's belligerence as well; that is one of my personal big regrets about Molly's death, and Marisha did a fantastic job showing how Beau was affected. Beau and Caduceus were also really interesting, in that they saw each other as the adults of the team for a while, especially early on. Beau and Kingsley have a great conversation in the Nein Reunited. And I've been pretty open about finding Laudna and Ashton's chemistry fascinating; while I enjoyed it romantically earlier, and would have loved to see how that played out, there's just such a great weird tension now, post-shard, that's hard to pin down.

Liam and Marisha have two of I think the most popular relationships in C1 and C2 and with good reason. Vax and Keyleth complement each other incredibly well, and I find Keyleth's feelings about the Raven Queen and how she and Vax approach them very differently to be beautifully done. Empire Siblings are again a favorite - they're so often at odds early on even as Beau has a lot of empathy for Caleb, and they're both the nerds of the party and among the most politically-minded to the point of working closely together years after the campaign. Laudna and Orym are also fascinating because they have these similar and yet wildly different ties to Vox Machina, and Orym feels for her situation, and they have some great conversations during the Issylra arc, but I actually love the growing tension. I love Orym flat out telling Laudna that this mission is important and he is pressuring Imogen because only she is capable of getting this information. I'm excited for the infiltration that's coming up!

But also because I can't limit myself here's some thoughts generally about cases where it's not every campaign but it's worth watching. The short version is "Travis and Ashley have some kind of chemistry with everyone."

I can name at least one relationship, romantic or platonic, between one of Travis's characters and a character from every other cast member, but I specifically want to shout out him and Marisha, who have zero romantic chemistry and bananas platonic chemistry in not just all three campaigns but also EXU Calamity and Candela Obscura Chapter 2. (He and Taliesin tend to have a fun and different thing going on each campaign and have a lot of similarities as players; Scanlan and Grog's clown to clown communication and Fjord and Veth's weirdly charged hostility are great; and hilariously I am obviously a massive fan of Fjord and Jester but I feel like the Baileyhams each campaign are like either we're doing high romance or we're going extremely our separate ways, which kind of makes sense in that they have extremely different approaches to D&D but also a lot of overlap in themes. Like on the rare occasions Grog and Vex, or Chetney and Imogen talk it's very good but they're certainly not the closest of characters)

Ashley also plays well with everyone. She has phenomenal chemistry with both Marisha and Laura. Beauyasha is readily apparent but also what we saw of Pike with both Keyleth and Vex was fantastic, and Imogen and Fearne are great and have some sparks, and Yasha and Jester had some incredible conversations. I also enjoy Ashley and Liam but have never shipped their characters romantically (and I suppose that was only even feasible in C1 given character sexualities); that's on my list of "could be fun" because they do always play off each other well. I will say, Ashton and Fearne have grown on me as a pairing but Ashley and Taliesin have always like...quietly vibed and had some great moments, and I think Molly and Yasha was (platonically) promising and cut short, and I love the conversation where Caduceus encourages Yasha to tell Beau how she feels, but they've never quite blown me away. I would like to see it though. There's potential.

Marisha and Sam seem to operate in very different spaces and so like...Keyleth and Scanlan, or Laudna and FCG, don't really interact much though they do have some mechanical overlap (Keyleth and Scanlan were good in combat together but didn't talk a ton) but specifically as Beau and Veth they were incredible. This is out of game but I very much enjoy their rapport during the Midst roundtables. Would love to see more.

Liam and Sam are also a fascinating case in that they're obviously very close friends irl but it's only as Veth and Caleb, and as the Grimms in Candela Obscura, that they've played characters who were close. They do have great chemistry though, romantic and platonic, and I'd love to see it explored. Liam and Laura are also interesting in that I love the twins and think they're amazing, and I like Orym and Imogen's relationship but particularly with C2 in the rearview, I just do not see much romantic chemistry between them at all. Bonkers good platonic chemistry though.

Taliesin and Sam are also a fun one in that I do like FCG and Ashton's friendship and their post-shard absorption conversation was a standout, as is Percy's outburst at Scanlan during the Bard's Lament and his friendship with Tary (and Tary's crush on him). Veth and Molly had some good moments; Veth and Caduceus did NOT know how to interact with each other.

#answered #pawthorn #cr tag #one of my first ever popular posts was me comparing cast members' c1 and c2 characters and this feels like it's bringing me back #cr spoilers

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billsjum6ie · 6 months

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Tom with a daughter who’s literally his twin in the 2000s. Like this is present day and everyone talks abt how she is his reincarnation of him in the 2000s. he prob had her young if he passed on his old style to her but regardless the similarities are uncanny 😜 Thank uu

(Oh my god, that actually sounds so cute. I hope you like it! )

" She really is a younger you ! "

Dad!Tom

He is really proud, if I'm honest

He's always flexing how much of an inspiration he is for his daughter, especially if he had her in a young age

Probably mentions this with every chance he gets, actually

Jokes aside tho, he'd be so pleased and happy with himself

The band had plenty of free time after their last show, so they decided to go over to Tom's house, drink some beers ( a dirty martini for Bill, please ) and watch some football. Before the match started, they were chatting about all kinds of things and , since Halloween was nearby , the talk switched to costumes pretty fast.

" I really liked your last year's costume, Bill. "

Georg said, taking a sip of his beer. Bill laughed, sitting back on the couch, throwing his one arm over the back.

"The Ariel one? I think so too! It was one of my best. "

He answered, taking a sip of his drink as well. He shrugged his shoulders.

" I don't think I've ever had a bad costume, to be honest. "

He added, making Tom roll his eyes.

" Of course you'd say that. "

Bill turned to look at him, a small smirk on his lips.

" it's not bad to speak the truth once in a while, you know. "

He answered, before turning to the TV again.

" my favorite costume is the one my daughter had when she was 10. "

Tom continued and everyone's attention was on him. It was Bill's turn to roll his eyes.

" of course, what else would it be? "

He commented, laughing a bit.

" I mean, why not? It was the time when she started experimenting with her style and all!"

Tom said before standing up. Gustav groaned.

" Here comes the photo album. "

He said, changing the channel.

" Hey! I was watching that! "

Bill said, annoyed, but Gustav chose to ignore him. Not many minutes had passed when Tom was back, a huge photo album in his hands.

" look! "

He said while sitting on the couch and opening it on his legs. The other three wanted to seem annoyed, since they've seen these pictures a million times before, but couldn't resist looking. Their smiles gave them away. They were actually so happy with Tom and his family. When he found the right picture, he pointed at it.

" I think it's obvious who was her inspiration for this look. "

He said, making everyone slightly laugh. It was a picture of his daughter, 3 years ago. She had on an oversized t-shirt and some jeans that were huge on her. They were basically touching the ground, while she was wearing some white sneakers. A beanie could be seen under her hat, that was almost covering her eyes entirely. In her hand she was holding a pumpkin bucket that said " Trick or treat! ". She had a small white guitar strapped on her body and from some videos they've seen ( a million times, again ) , they remembered the way she was walking like a penguin. But Tom couldn't help himself but remind them that.

" I remember that night as if it was yesterday. We were talking about her costume and what she wants to be and she just went " I want to look like you ". I didn't really think this through until she showed me a picture that she found in one of my photo albums of me from the early 00s."

He had a sweet smile on his face as he turned to look at the other three.

" of course we immediately went shopping and I got her exactly what she needed ! I remembered pretty well the whole preparation and on Halloween she was just a little me from the 00s walking around, like a penguin! "

He pointed at them.

" you guys liked that too, just admit it! "

He said, laughing, making everyone nodd.

" we actually did. It was so sweet! "

Bill said before they continued looking at the rest of the pictures.

From that one costume till today, his daughter started experimenting regarding her style

Slowly she became a mini 00s Tom overall, from her baggy clothes, to her taste in music and the obsession and love for playing the guitar, that slowly started to appear when she watched videos of her father on stage

Tom was always so supportive and happy with this change, even though it was something he never expected to happen, since times had changed and he thought his daughter would want to be part of every new fashion trend

But he always reminded her to not act the way he did when he was younger

Sometimes these conversations happened when they were joking around

Other times though, they were taken pretty seriously

" you know I love the way you found yourself in this style right? "

He once said while they were sitting on the couch, watching a movie. His daughter turned to him, nodding.

" of course. I remember how happiness was written all over your face when I first mentioned that I wanted to try this! "

She said,making them both laugh.

" yeah, that's one of my favorite moments of my life. It's really important to me, that you're so inspired by me. But you should be careful. "

His daughter immediately grew serious as she stopped the movie and turned to look at Tom.

" what do you mean, dad? "

She asked, and Tom sighed, leaving the bowl of popcorn on the table in front of them.

" I love the way you dress like me, and decided to learn to play the guitar, but never, ever act the way I did. "

He turned to her, his eyes looking right at hers.

" I wanted to live the life of a Rockstar. Smoking and drinking from a young age, having sex like there's no tomorrow, with different girls every time. I'm sure you've heard all of those stories already. "

The girl nodded, sitting back on the couch.

" Always take care of yourself and others. I know this may sound fun to a young person but it doesn't always have good outcomes. So please, be careful. And if anyone ever tries to give you a hard time, always come to me so we can fix things together. Okay? "

He said, but before she could answer.

" and if you ever try any of the things I mentioned, don't be scared to tell me. I won't be mad. Alright? "

His daughter gave him a smile and a nodd.

" I promise you dad, I'll be careful. "

Tom smiled back, hugging his daughter and giving her a slight kiss on the cheek.

" that's my girl. "

Let's just say he's always there for her (just wanted to add this here)

Other than that, the guys always point out how she is his " reincarnation " from the early 00s, just to see him beam with happiness

They always compliment the way he's teaching her stuff and how she grows up the right way with Tom as her father

And of course Tom always tries to act casual but in the end he fails

The boys were once again over at Tom's house. They were talking about the new album and what has to follow on the tour for its promotion, when their talk is interrupted by Tom's daughter who comes out of her room, ready to go for a walk.

" Dad, I'm leaving! "

Tom turned to look at her. As always, she was wearing an oversized white t-shirt and a grey sweatshirt jacket that went down to her knees. Her blue jeans were sagging and covering her white sneakers, while her head was covered by a beanie and a hat. Just like that Halloween costume.

" be careful ! Text me when you arrive at your friend's house okay? "

She turned to him and smiled, putting one earphone on.

" I will. Hope you have fun with the preparations! "

And with that, she was out the door.

" wow. She really is a younger you! "

Bill said, smiling at the door. Tom smiled too, looking back at the guys. His smile giving away how hard he was trying to hold back his bragging. Bill rolled his eyes.

" don't be so cocky! "

Tom just laughed at this, before giving his answer.

" yeah, she is. She even mentioned that she wants to get her hair done as a birthday present. "

Tom said, scribbling down at the piece of paper in front of him.

" which hairstyle did she choose? "

Georg asked, even though they all knew the answer. And Tom's smile gave it away before his lips did.

" dreadlocks. "

#tokio hotel #kaulitz twins #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz tokio hotel #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz fluff

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

Old Dog, New Tricks

Masc!Reader x BG3 Women (Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart)

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - My submission inbox shorted out, so I lost the prompt post! Basically, it was someone anonymous requesting a situation where an older tav didn’t know how to handle the Baldur’s Gate women flirting with him. If you were the one who sent in the post I’m sorry for losing the submission, but I hope you like the end result! <3

Warnings - Fluff

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Karlach ~

“I can’t believe you’ve stayed alive this long, soldier.” Karlach explained, letting out a hearty laugh.

You chuckled alongside her, taking a swig of your canteen.”You and me both.”

The two of you had spent most of the evening up to this point talking and laughing just like this. Comparing battle stories, complaining about old aches and pains from injuries, just generally bonding over spending both of your lives wrapped up in various wars.

It was nice to have someone to relate to like this, even if you were decades more grey than the woman before you. What Karlach lacked in experience, she more than made up for in story-telling. You sat around a campfire with comrades just like this many times before, but no one ever held your attention quite as well as Karlach.

She was vivacious and loud, her tales winding and swelling with intense voices. She made you feel younger again, reminding you of the times when you were that 16 year old young man who slept under the stars and fought his way through the realm.

You two could bond over that, being brought into an adult’s battle and giving up your childhood because of it. Your heart ached a little when you thought how much she had probably missed in the way of being a normal kid. You knew how it had affected you.

Karlach’s voice ripped you from your thoughts and you glanced back at her. Her eyes were alight with excitement and she was holding her arm out, pointing to a jagged scar.

“I got this one doing something similar. Thought the little devil would rip my arm clean off, but they weren’t quite fast enough.” She gave you a wide smile, obviously proud of the mark.

You cleared your throat gruffly, making a show of pulling your sleeve up and over your weathered skin. Just above your elbow sat an angry smattering of scarring, the result of an unfortunate misstep from your encounter with a dragon.

“Oh, love,” You whispered lowly, putting on your own version of a story-teller’s voice. “I’ve looked the devil in the eye. It wasn’t fond enough of me to look back, but it did give me this pretty mark.”

Karlach reached out, gently running her fingers over the textured skin, her eyes wide with an odd sense of awe. You felt your cheeks heat and breath get caught in your throat from the contact. You tried to distract from the feeling with a cough, slightly embarrassed that something so small could have your heart fluttering so rapidly.

“Must have hurt” Karlach murmured.

You shrugged, afraid of opening your mouth and having clumsy attempts at flirty banter spill out. That didn’t stop your jaw from dropping at what she said next.

“I can kiss it better if you’d like.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Lae’zel ~

It had been quite a long day. Long enough where you wanted to sit against this giant oak tree for months just to recover. You ran a hand through your salt and pepper hair, trying to ignore the way dull pain wound its way through your muscles.

You were getting too old for this. Perhaps twenty years earlier, you could have done a journey like this with no issue, but now, you creaked like a door hinge that had never met oil in its life.

You hoped your companions hadn’t caught on to how the constant fighting affected you so.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, Lae’zel looked at you from across the camp. She narrowed her eyes, as if she was sizing up how exhausted you looked. Leave it to her to have the uncanny ability to read your mind without trying.

As she made her way over, she crossed her arms disapprovingly. “Don’t tell me the parasite is starting to dig its claws in you.” She hissed.

“Do mind layer worms even have claws?” You chucked and gave her a charming smile, hoping the joke would get her off your case. Lae’zel meant well, but you were absolutely certain that if you showed any weakness to her questioning, she’d gut you then and there.

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed further, her lips drawn in a tight line. “Chk, answer the question before I rid you of the parasite with more permanent means.”

You sighed, stretching your shoulders. “No, it’s not the parasite, Lae’zel. Just an old goat far too past his prime to be saving the world.”

Lae’zel seemed to ponder your words before letting out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. “Being old is a great feat. “If you were a Githyanki and lived as incredibly long as you have,it would simply mean you’re skilled enough in battle to not be defeated.”

“What do you mean ‘incredibly long’, Lae’zel?” You scoffed, “How old do you think I look?”

You secretly hoped she wouldn’t answer. You knew how your looks had fared over the years, your laugh lines deepening, well earned nicks and scars peppering your skin. You were proud of your age, proud of the way the years hadn’t affected you the way they affected most. But ‘incredibly’ long? Really?

Lae’zel took a moment to look you over once more. You felt heat crawl its way to your chest, feeling exposed under her careful gaze. It’s as if she was taking every single part of you into inventory to come to a decision.

“You do not look old to me.” Lae’zel answered, finally. “In fact, I might even call you dashing.”

You sputtered in surprise, not quite sure how to take the compliment. “You would?”

Lae’zel offered you a rare smile before turning on her heels, calling out over her shoulder as she left, “I said ‘might’ Istik. Do not let my words go to your head.”

You stared blankly in her direction, trying to work out what had just happened in the conversation.

’You know what?’, you thought, standing up and brushing yourself off.

‘Fighting monsters is so much less complicated than that woman.’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~ Shadowheart ~

It was a quiet evening when Shadowheart sat next to you, bottle of wine and two glasses in her hand. She sought out your company often, probably because you weren’t the most talkative person among your companions.

No, most of your ‘bonding’ time with Shadowheart was just sitting under the moonlight and sipping wine, only occasionally having comfortably short conversations.

It was the perfect way to unwind after a stressful day of fighting. Even still, you couldn’t help but notice how the talks had been growing longer as of late, not that you minded. Dusk was filled with hushed tones exchanged back and forth about likes and dislikes, little stories, questions about far away lands you had traveled to.

With Shadowheart’s memories gone, it was almost as if she wanted to explore all of yours instead. She knew so little about herself and was still fascinated to hear about you. It felt a bit alien at first, talking about yourself. But her curios gaze and pleading smile always won out in the end.

“So how old are you really?” Shadowheart asked plainly, still looking up into the night sky.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask such a thing?” You scoffed, looking towards her.

Shadowheart shrugged as if the etiquette of the such a question meant absolutely nothing to her. “Quite old, then. For a human, I suppose.”

That quip earned a chuckle from you, the sound rumbling through your chest, “Old enough. I’ll be 48 or 49 summers this year. Can’t quite remember which.”

Shadowheart smiled gently, her eyes flitting to you. “As am I. Around there, anyways.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, “You’re much too beautiful to be as old as I am.”

You hadn’t meant the words flirtatiously. At least you thought you didn’t. It just seemed so far out of the realm of possibilities for her to have been on the earth as long as you had. You knew half elves aged much slower than humans, but when you looked at Shadowheart, she looked simply radient compared to you.

Shadowheart giggled, her voice clear and melodic. Her smile brought a blush over your face, as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough from your blunt statement.

“Well thank you for that.” Shadowheart teased. Her hand came up to rest against your cheek, her thumb running idly against the snowy white stubble across your jaw.

You froze, not knowing how to handle Shadowheart’s gentle touch nor the the way it made your chest feel as if it were going to explode. Instead, you just continued to look into her eyes, words trapped in your throat.

“I must admit,” She murmured, her voice soft. “You wear your age well.”

As you sat there, lost in her gaze as you tried to take in her words, it felt like the universe was playing some sort of joke on you. How could someone like Shadowheart be holding someone like you so gently? So warmly? So… lovingly?

You knew you weren’t the worst looking man this side of Baldur’s Gate, but you weren’t blind to how time had affected you. How the years deepened your laugh lines and weathered your skin. Shadowheart could have her choice of any lover, but here she sat. Looking at you with those emerald green eyes like you were the only one in the world.

Even if you couldn’t say the things you were thinking to Shadowheart, even if your life depended on it, something in her expression made you think she knew what you were feeling anyways.

As you fell deeper and deeper into her affectionate gaze, selfishly, you wished the moment would never end. That her touch would never leave you.

That the two of you could remain here in the quiet corner of camp, frozen in time forever.

#Karlach #laezel #shadowheart #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #Karlach x reader #Karlach x tav #laezel x reader #laezel x tav #shadowheart x tav

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