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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

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DD pt 3 , part 1 of 2

Fem reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

This art was commissioned for this chapter by the AMAZING artist @/ ejpuki on Instagram. Please go and support the original artist!! (Link takes you to the same artwork as the one above, just the original post)

TW: Minors DNI, suggestive content, alcohol , age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

Synopsis- fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...

This is a longer one so I broke it into two posts. Enjoy!

🖤

Pt 1 , P2 , Pt 3 2, Part 4 , Part 5

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You stood in front of your standing mirror in your room, phone speakers scratching as it played your getting ready tunes. You were overstimulated and stressed out trying to choose an outfit for your first date with your hot Uber driver. You could feel yourself starting to sweat, the pins from the hot rollers in your hair digging into your scalp. You stopped to take a deep breath and fan yourself frantically with your hand, the last thing you needed was your makeup running also. You gave yourself 3 hours to get ready specifically because it was a 50/50 chance your eyelashes would actually stick this time, or the outfits would outfit the way you envisioned. Tonight was a good eyelash night luckily, so far...

You finally settled on a short, satin, ruched wrap navy dress with spaghetti straps with a small slit that ran up your right thigh. Once you took out the rollers and had your outfit ready to go, you did a 360 in the mirror, trying to make sure your ass looked good. You sprayed some Daisy Love by Marc Jacobs on your neck and chest. You made sure you got your purse with everything you might need: chapstick, gum, lip gloss, extra lash glue, wallet, key... you froze for a moment. It was only the first date, nothing too crazy is probably going to happen...you grabbed the Daisy Love perfume and gave a spray to your ankles for good measure.

-------Alchemax, Hudson Valley, NY--------

Miguel smiled triumphantly as he ripped off the Uber sticker from his windshield. He loosened his tie and set his briefcase in the backseat. He had a breakthrough at work today. He finally got promoted from his junior position as an associate geneticist to senior geneticist and head of a new project by his boss. It included a massive pay bump which meant no more need to supplement his income with Uber trips to make sure Gabi had everything she needed. He was finally going to be making the salary he suffered through 8 years of school for.

And to top it off, he had a promising date tonight with you: the beautiful tipsy passenger of his who he couldn't stop thinking about. He took a deep sigh and started the commute south towards Brooklyn. It was a 2 hour drive. He hoped he wouldn't keep you waiting outside too long.

-----

You stood in front of your apartment building, the wind chill causing your bare legs to break out in goosebumps. Your purple peacoat wasn't much help. Your teeth began to chatter and you tried to distract yourself by scrolling on Instagram. Reading the same 5 posts over and over, the cause of your distraction half being the nippy November air, the other half being your wracked nerves to see Miguel in person once again.

There was so much tension between you two, you wondered how you would possibly be able to handle it tonight and not be the awkwardest person alive. And to add to the nerves, this time you didn't have liquid courage to help you be more interesting and outgoing. You just hoped that he'd like you as much as you liked him.

You watched your breath come out in short little puffs as you waited, a sort of weird game you invented to distract from the agonizing temperature. Finally, Miguel's black Audi pulled up in front of you. Miguel got out of the driver's seat, car still running to get your door. The mere sight of him made you realize you might need a clean pair of panties. There he was: 6'9, those dreamy brown eyes, and his toe-curling deep ass voice as he said your name with his stupidly handsome smile. He was wearing fitted dark grey slacks, black dress shoes, with a navy button up with the sleeves rolled up halfway on his forearms. A mahogany colored belt accentuated his lean waist that you couldn't help but want to be wrapped around.

You felt your intestines do another back handspring when he put his hand gently on your waist to help you to the passenger side. You wobbled a bit like a newborn deer in your heels, suddenly being forced to move after being frozen in place waiting outside for him.

"I'm so sorry, I hope you weren't waiting long." Miguel said. He made sure you were in, then closed the door and jogged back to the driver's side. He pulled ahead to a stop sign and looked at you.

"You look beautiful tonight."

Thankful the car was dim, hiding your flushed expression, you smiled,

"Thank you, you look handsome too. And we're matching, see?"

You opened your peacoat, revealing your navy dress to match his shirt. Miguel looked over and good FUCK your thighs looked amazing. The way the dress hugged you in all the right places had him immediately envisioning what lay underneath. If your thighs and hips looked this good from the front then God knows how amazing the view of your ass must be.

We could just scrap this dinner reservation and head back to my place right now. Gabi's with her abuela and tio Gabe tonight so we could christen the surface of my new coffee table and I'll make you scream as loud as I need you to. I'll make you whatever pasta you want afterwards. It won't be as good as the Italian place we skipped out on tonight to go fuck instead, but it will be worth watching you eat it wearing one of my oversized shirts knowing I fucked you silly all night long.

Miguel played it cool. "Great minds think alike. How was your day?"

"It was okay, could have been better. Work killed me." you sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel said. "what do you do for work, if you don't mind my asking."

"I'm a secretary at a physician's office," you answer. "It's okay, I guess. I work with a bunch of older women and most of them are nice and we have each other's backs when it comes to some of the doctors who can be a pain to work with. But the patients can be something else. Don't get me wrong though, most of the time people are nice, especially the kids that come in and are super adorable."

Miguel smiles at this. "I can imagine people would be hard to deal with at a job like that. You like kids?"

You think for a moment. "I do, I mean, I'm not a parent or anything and have a hard time seeing myself as a parent, at least for a while though. But I do have a niece and a nephew that live in Toronto. My niece is 7 and my nephew is 3. They're so fun. I like being the fun aunt that can return them back to their parents after a bit."

Miguel chuckles. "I can understand that."

You notice his work parking pass hanging from his rear view mirror. "What's Al-chem-ix?"

"Al-chem-axe?" Miguel corrects. "It's my work."

"Oh, so you don't do just Uber?"

"No," he answers. I got promoted to a senior geneticist position finally, today actually. I was doing Uber as a side hustle because the pay alone in my old position wasn't enough to support Gabi and I. It was kind of a joke after going to school for so long, but I'm glad they're finally giving me a chance to prove myself."

A look of disbelief crosses over your face. "Umm that's kind of a big piece of information to leave out about yourself! So you're actually like a genius level scientist?"

"Genius? No. But I'm flattered by that," he laughs in his rich voice. God, that was so attractive. This man has the audacity to be tall, dark, handsome, smart and rich?!

You two pull up to a nice Italian restaurant called Michael's. As Miguel helps you out of the car he walks two paces behind on purpose. Yep, your ass looked amazing in that dress. Miguel inhaled sharply, trying to suppress his dirty thoughts.

The restaurant was busy, yet calm as the diners enjoyed hushed conversations with the sounds of cutlery clinking against porcelain dishes. It smelled amazing, like brick stone ovens and freshly baked bread. The restaurant was old-timey elegance and dimly lit as a Tony Bennett song played gently over the speakers. A tall man with a large belly and greased black hair with a gold chain and grey suit was the loudest in the room as he walked table to table, shaking hands with the patrons, clearly the owner. Yep, you knew the food was going to be good.

Miguel pulls out your chair like a gentleman. You two share some Focaccia and you giggle as you try to help Miguel clean off some olive oil that ran down his chin. You tell him some more about your older brother who lives in Toronto with his wife and two kids and your younger sister who lives in New Jersey with your mom. You tell him about your childhood and how you struggled to make friends and were often alone and how that's affected you today. You talk to him about your interests and movies you like and your ideal vacation.

He listens, smiling when you smile, and takes a sip of his ice water, not taking his eyes off yours and pausing to squeeze a lemon wedge into his glass, stirring it while nodding his head. You were even better than he thought. Your personality even when you're intoxicated is charming, but who you truly are which you're showing him tonight is someone he can see himself with. Someone who's humble and maybe a little shy, yet kind and passionate about the things they love and makes him laugh. He loves how your walls seem to come down for him when he can get you talking about something that interests you. You ordered the cacio e pepe and he ordered Chicken Carciofi. You try to resist the urge to let your eyeballs roll back in your head when you take a bite of the silky, creamy pasta. It was sublime.

"Tell me about yourself, Miguel." You smile, taking a sip of wine. Now, the wine was starting to make you a tad more talkative than before, but you were determined to not be shit faced or tipsy like last time.

The side of his mouth raises a little. He hesitated. He wasn't a fan of talking about himself. And he didn't like feeling vulnerable or opening up to people. But he felt he owed it to you since you were being so open with him tonight.

"Well..." He says softly. He sits up and leans a little closer to you across the table, resting his elbows on the wooden armrests of the chair. "I was born here, in New York. My mother's name is Conchata and my father's name is George. I have a younger brother named Gabriel who's 29 and lives in Manhattan with my mother. My parents separated a couple years ago."

"I'm sorry..." You say softly, your face softening as he tells his story.

"It's okay. When I was 26, I started dating a girl named Xina who I knew since we were kids. We...went through a lot together and I made a lot of mistakes. I was unfaithful. I'm not proud of it. But we had Gabi together. She moved upstate and found happiness with someone new. She sees Gabi a few times a month. The distance is rough but we do our best to make it work. "

You felt your heart sink when he mentioned his unfaithfulness, but tried to just listen to him without judging him too much. You couldn't help but be worried if he'd do something like that to you too.

Sensing your discomfort, he lays his hand on top of yours. Your heart skips a beat at his touch, and you notice how warm his hand is. His eyes bore into yours, searching you earnestly as though he's trying to figure out what caused the shift in your demeanor at recounting his past. "Is something I said making you uncomfortable?" His thumb begins to trace circles on the back of your hand.

"Mmm, well sort of,"you hesitate.

"Tell me, " he says calmly. "I want to give you any reassurance that I can "

"Well, you said you were unfaithful in the past with your ex? Was it...did it happen more than once and was it before or after Gabi was born?" You start cautiously.

Miguel nods. "I can understand why you're feeling that way. It happened once. And it happened before Gabi was born. We got back together when I found out she was pregnant."

He looks at you for your reaction. You nod, listening intently, but your stomach still feels in knots at the mention of other women and you can't help but feel the insecurities and green eyed monster rear its ugly head. "I guess I'm just scared of getting hurt." You admit quietly.

Miguel's eyes have an eager look in them as he takes both of your hands in his. "I know it sounds cliche, and I don't expect you to believe me right away or maybe even don't want to continue seeing me after this but, I really am not that person I once was. I learned a valuable lesson. My ex is an amazing woman and I hurt her badly. I learned that you need to communicate if you need more from your partner and not seek validation somewhere else like I did."

" Even though it didn't work out with us, I respect who she is and appreciate that she gave me Gabi. And I'm happy she's dating someone new. And anyone I'm with at this point, I wouldn't be with unless I see something in them. With you, I just felt close to you when you mentioned you had troubles with your dad when I was driving you home and...I just find you relatable and adorable. I think you're beautiful and I truly like you a lot and want to spend more time with you."

Your heart is jumping all over the place at his confession. His dark brown eyes, pools of the Earth drawing you in. This absolute Greek God of a man said he likes you and thinks you're beautiful. Who wouldn't fold at that? Fuck, this man is gonna ruin my life...

"I.. really like you too, Miguel." You're feeling a little bit more comforted at his words and appreciate the fact he's talking positively about his ex and acknowledges his part in their relationship dissolving. "I appreciate you being honest with me about the situation. Nobody's perfect and, that stuff happened a long time ago. If you learned from it and won't repeat it then..then I'd like to give this a shot. But I swear to God if you do, I'll cut your hair in your sleep," you jab light-heartedly, but are low-key serious.

Miguel's heart leaps in his stomach as well and breaks into a smile at your last sentence. He brings a hand to your face and cups it. "Understood. Thank you...you don't know how much I appreciate that." He stares into your eyes, then ever so subtly, they flicker down to your lips.

Oh God...

You feel as though an invisible magnetic force is pulling your heads together as Miguel's eyes are still locked on your lips and you can't help but stare at his too. Those kissable, full lips of his..

Then, the waiter breaks it.

"Can I get yous two anything else tonight? Dessert?"

Miguel is pulled out of the trance and gives your hand a squeeze. "Do you want something for dessert?"

"Oh umm..." You try to shake your head modestly. Miguel tilts his head.

"You sure? C'mon, I know you'd love dessert."

"The tiramisu did look really good.."

"We'll take an order of the tiramisu please." Miguel tells the waiter who gives a curt nod and speeds off to the kitchen.

You enjoy the scrumptious tiramisu and convince Miguel to take a bite as well, you burst into laughter when you see his eyes grow wide with disbelief after taking his first bite. "Damn, that's not bad at all..." He murmurs, the marscapone and cocoa powder adorning the corners of his mouth. You smile adoringly at him.

As you two leave the restaurant he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest as you walk. You wrap an arm around his waist in response and look up at him. He towers over you and you feel yourself melting into him when he flashes a dazzling smile down at you. It just feels right being here with him. Already he makes you feel so safe and secure.

As you arrive back at your apartment he gets out and walks you to your door. You two share the longest embrace outside your door. Your arms wrapped around his waist and his wrapped around your shoulders with one hand cradling the back of your head as he rests his cheek on the top of your head.

"I should go..." He slowly starts to break the embrace.

"No, no please. Just a little longer." You tighten your arms around him. His hugs are amazing and his scent nearly knocks you off your feet. Is it sandalwood, vanilla, woodsy? Whatever it is, it's fucking delicious and you need a candle made out of it so you don't ever forget how divine this man smells. You also don't understand how a human can be so warm. Even at the end of November, this man is impenetrable to the cold.

Miguel chuckles and plants a kiss into your hair and keeps holding you as you wish. "you're so adorable, you know." He can't believe how trusting of him you are but knows that he has a lot at stake right now. He doesn't want to do anything to make you nervous or uncomfortable or violate your trust. Most women would never give him a chance like this given his past and current situation.

Finally, you two part. You feel your stomach drop in disappointment when he doesn't kiss your lips but rise up and nearly bubble past the surface when he presses his lips to your forehead. You go inside your apartment and screech into your pillow, kicking your feet.

Miguel takes the drive to Manhattan to pick up Gabi. He's gonna need another cold shower to get your mouth and hips off his mind again. But he couldn't help but give himself a pat on the back. He had you right where he wanted you and he couldn't help but feel giddy about where this could go with you. He's falling hard already and doesn't want to stop.

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Pt 3 2

@mysteris-things

#Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter I : I dreamt that time had ended

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.

-OR-

Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Mentions of suicidal ideations, unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal fingering, breeding kink kinda, Emotionally Constipated Joel Miller ™️

A/N: Hello, this is my first foray into posting my writing publicly. To be honest, it feels fucking weird and scary, but alas, here I am, pretending to be brave. Art is Botanica No. 23 by Gail Potocki.

Word Count: 6.2K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER I: I dreamt that time had ended

I'm most dangerous when I’m hungry. I’m most hungry

when I’m hurting. Seems like I’m always hurting. Nothing

but teeth. Nothing but the same words calling out to me

in my sleep. Grief asking its ghosts not to leave. Please.

It’s not up to me when I get to stop crying. Or hurting.

Or holding memories in my mouth, gentle as bees

I promised not to eat, but oh, the hurt is so sweet.

- Saeed Jones, from “Date Night,” Alive at the End of the World

Loneliness and being alone were two things you’d always thought to be one and the same — a pair sitting side by side on the spectrum of human suffering. Now, at the end of the world, you knew differently. You’d gotten in bed with both. A kind of intimacy that made your bones ache.

After Beth, your sister, you’d been alone – out beyond the protection of the community you now called your own in Jackson – where you’d carved a little place for yourself. Then, you’d been so entrenched in your grief and shock, that you’d not been lucid enough to really feel loneliness at all. You were alone, but were too far gone to feel the specific melancholy of loneliness. It was all a vicious, almost unthinking, clawing for survival. That creature out beyond the walls was you, and sometimes you liked to pretend and tell yourself you left her out there, but in moments of stark honesty, when you let go of the lies you comforted yourself with, you don’t feel very sure.

Looking back, it’s almost a surprise that it never occurred to you, in those delirious days, in the aftermath of watching Beth get ripped to pieces by infected, to ever think to follow her in death. You think you’d just been too numb and shocked at the time to even consider the tidy solution a bullet to the head would’ve provided you. You can’t even tell if you regret the lack of foresight at that time or not. You suppose now, looking around yourself, at the somewhat full life you’ve settled yourself into, you’re grateful.

But in Jackson, in Jackson you’d found loneliness. Despite being surrounded by a community that wanted to help you from the first moment, to care for you. Most especially because, in the light of this new life, you remembered everything about the aftermath of your sister’s death – with vivid clarity. The details were glaringly bright in your mind, and the peace and fullness of this new life you’d been afforded made those memories hurt all the worse.

Your father had been a physician, a surgeon, before the outbreak, and early on he’d decided it was essential to pass on what he could. That he needed a protege. You fit the necessity nicely. You’d had a mind that absorbed knowledge at a rate that wasn’t necessarily useful in a world like the one you’d now found yourselves in, but he’d made good use of it, made a tool of you in the manner of an extension of himself. He’d started early trying to train you as best he could, given the circumstances. You’d had a fairly peaceful childhood up until you were eighteen living in the San Francisco QZ, given his position, and at around twelve years old he’d started a demanding study regimen. He was determined to make you into the closest semblance of a doctor he could through his own personal means of teaching. You’d always been well suited to a life of taking orders, doing what you were told, being who you were told to be. At the end of the world it was easier, you’d found, to do and be what you were told to – it came easily to you, and after all, your father knew best. You liked the security of being able to follow a set of directions without the anxiety of conjecture or uncertainty. A clearly laid out path was a safe path, and you found comfort in that. So you’d learned what he’d told you to learn. He said it was necessary, and so it became a necessity to you. Practiced what he’d told you to practice. And eventually, become what he wanted you to become. After your mother and father were killed in a raid shortly after your eighteenth birthday, it was just you and Beth, and you’d taken on your studies and training yourself. It wasn’t as efficient, especially after the QZ had fallen and you were forced to leave, could have been more thorough, but you felt well versed in the knowledge you’d gained thus far. Secure in the fact that you had the ability to help people as best you could with what you knew. It gave you purpose and allowed you to follow that path that’d been laid out for you. Provided some sort of comforting reminder of your father, your childhood, as well. The two of you had wandered for several years up until the time of her death.

When you found Jackson after Beth, after days and days of wandering, of savage fear and a desperate clawing to just stay alive, just make it a little further, it was like coming upon paradise. An Eden safer and more cherished than anything before in all history. Connie, their resident doctor, who they were so lucky and grateful to have, had taken you under his wing. Connie and his nurturing comfort. Doing everything he could to build on the knowledge your father had instilled in you over the years. All the knowledge and practice he was so desperate to pass on to you. To build on your foundation. Doctors were few and far between, hard to find and even harder to keep, and Connie was old. Now well into his seventies, he was tired. His mind and body, nowhere near as agile as they’d once been. Your arrival in the community had been seen as a benediction, once he’d found out what your father had started in you. It was difficult to build a comprehensive curriculum, to find the right means of practical training in a world like this, but the two of you had managed fairly well. A deal had been struck with the leaders of the community to provide donated cadavers when they became available, if the families so allowed, if they had families. This allowed the two of you to practice hands on general surgical techniques he felt were essential for you to know. He’d tried, so far, to build a curriculum that was generally comprehensive – general surgery, obstetrics and gynecology, and internal medicine. In your spare time you read everything he’d ever found on botany and herbology. Everything else you supplemented with a collection of texts and scientific literature he’d been collecting since the outbreak, and had guarded and cared for fiercely . He saw his collection of medical texts as the key to the preservation and furthering of knowledge, and you agreed with him. After losing your father you couldn’t have asked for a more caring or dedicated mentor.

But not only was his caring practical, for he’d brought you back to life with his patience. He’d lead you out of that hazy numbness you’d lost yourself in after Beth. Something you’d have stayed lost in the rest of your life if not for his guidance, the loss of her so devastating it was something molecular. The feeling left you so tired, almost emaciated in your grief – the only instinct was survival, no thought for perpetuation or preservation. And then, of course there was Ellie and Dina, Tommy and Maria. All who’d done their best to welcome you into the embrace of their friendship. You were grateful for them in ways you couldn’t ever put into words.

And yet, and yet, despite all this good; a caring community, a giving teacher, loyal friendships, things you now knew you’d die to keep and protect, you were lonely. An aching kind of desperate loneliness, it’d blanketed you with a film of numbness that you hadn’t even really noticed, until one night you’d gotten home to the lovely warm house that’d been assigned to you, a place you’d been able to make a home, to realize, you had no one that was only yours. No one waiting for you. No more sister, no parents, no blood. No one to give yourself to. No one you’d always belong to, no matter what.

You’d felt a level of desperation in that moment worse than many of your worst moments in this horrible thing the world you knew had come to be.

But then there was him.

Joel.

Joel who was cold and stern and who had, at first, seemed so wholly disinterested in your existence you’d never thought there was any way he’d ever even think of looking at you as more than the girl he went to for stitches every now and then. As anything more than the person who patched up his never ending litany of scrapes and bruises. But who, at first sight, you’d seemed to take in and then never again look away from. Who you’d felt you’d known, recognized, at first glance. It was everything about him, really. His countenance – the air about him, slightly threatening, but in a way that told you you’d always be protected, safe,cared for if held in the circle of his embrace. And then his physicality – his face, his body, his smell . The feel of his skin beneath yours when you were closing or covering his wounds. The broad, thick planes of him, his long legs and tall frame that towered over your own. The man could overtake you if he chose to. You’d look at him and couldn’t help but think how hard he’d fuck. And you thought about that often. What it’d be like to cradle the heavy weight of him between your thighs, inside of you. What his skin would feel, taste like beneath your tongue. How you’d map the smattering of sun freckles on his chest and shoulders. And his eyes, deep and dark, and you knew they saw everything. That they were ever aware of what was going on around him. Wondered at what they’d feel like roving the hills and swells of your naked body – just for him. That he could probably see the yearning coming off of you like heat waves off the hot pavement.

Joel who seemed to care fiercely about Ellie, who he saw as his daughter from the little you’d been able to garner from her and others about their connection, and not much else. He’d come to you on more than one occasion after Ellie’d been into the clinic for attention demanding an update on her condition, asking if there was something wrong. Ensuring she was alright, that she’d remain alright. And being completely taken aback and offended when you’d refused to disclose patient information. There was a rift between them, so it seemed, not that anyone had been brave enough to talk about it aloud. The unspoken elephant in Jackson was the current ongoing estrangement between the two. Something that, without knowing him beyond being his doctor, you could see hurt him worse than anything you could’ve ever treated him for. And there was Tommy, his brother, and his wife Maria – who it was also obvious he appreciated and cared for.

He was cordial and helpful and always willing to be a good neighbor to those in the community. But he was set apart. A man estranged in a way you could see was self imposed. You could recognize it for what it was, the same shroud of loneliness that blanketed you. And what was it they said about the experience of loneliness? It creates a vicious cycle that only further perpetuates itself the more alone you become. You start to reek of it the longer you enshroud yourself in it. Contagion spreads. But then one day, you’d seemed to distract him from maintaining that self imposed exile long enough to entice him into looking at you, even if for a second, really looking at you.

It was like this: he’d never looked at you. Until he did. And then it was like fire, like a natural disaster or disease, like cordyceps . Uncontrollable, and as hard as you both tried, or didn’t try, it could not be put away once it had been set upon. You’d circled and circled each other – blood in the water – him in reluctant silence, you almost desperately, until you’d come together in a clash of limbs and tongues and teeth, and then he was shoving you onto your desk in the small space of your examining room and then shoving, hard and savage into your cunt, and that was it. You’d given him as much as he was willing to take, and if he’d wanted to take more, you’d have given it willingly and gladly. It was not a question of how much you were willing to do, or how much of yourself you could part with. If in that instant he’d asked you to open your vein to him and let him drink you think you might have invited him to gorge himself. The way he’d moved in your cunt that day, hand wrapped around the column of your throat as he drew a thin helpless sound out of you – like he owned it already, like he’d always owned it, and it’d just taken him a second to come and claim what’d always rightfully been his. The way he’d brought his fist down, hard, on the desk beside you as he emptied himself inside your pulsing walls, growling the start of your name between clenched teeth before it turned into a guttural wordless snarl. You knew there was a part of him angry at you in that instant. Furious at how fucking good it felt to take him inside you, to finally give in, to ravage and take and fuck the way both of you had wanted to for so long.

You’d wanted him with a kind of anguish that frightened you for the fervor of it. Something you’d never experienced. There’d been others before, well, one other, but that now seemed laughably pale and tepid compared to this. A blight of inconsequential nothingness in your past, that had in no way prepared you for what you’d come to experience with Joel. This was something to cause terror if examined too closely. But he’d peered at you one afternoon, opened his arms to you and invited you in, and how were you ever supposed to resist sinking your teeth into his flesh? Ripping out a piece of him all for yourself.

He’d promised that’d be the only time. That it could only ever happen that once. You’d both taken the lie for what it was. You knew this couldn’t be stopped once it had been started.

You’d always been a girl willing, glad, to do as you were told. To abide by the space allocated to you, to take what you’d been given with gratitude and accept your limitations. But loneliness makes monsters of even the best of us sometimes. And in a world now filled with monsters, it was easy to assimilate into one if given the opportunity, to let greed render you into what it may.

Joel watches your wonder at the sight of the little bird through the window, and he considers his own monstrousness. Your naked form is draped over his bed, tangled in his sheets, the loveliest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The soft afternoon sunlight swirling along the planes of your skin, warm and buttery, and he accepts that he’s been deformed by his own brutality and violence. That he’s done a lot of truly heinous things in this life, but taking a little bird like you for himself, is perhaps the worst. The sparrow flits away and your eyes follow it– up, up, up. There’s a soft gleam in them, and his heart and gut twist at the sight of you moved by the sparrow. It’s been months of this, of the two of you tangled together. He hopes he never sees an end in sight, but at the same time, feels it pull at him. A vicious self sabotaging need to bring his fist down on this tenuous house of cards you’ve built together. Watch it smash into pieces.

There’d been times where he’d look at an infected, right before killing it, and felt an understanding so poignant.

That is what I have become.

He never needed to have been bitten to lose himself. To have been overtaken by something beyond his control. The viciousness of life had done it for him. Infected him all the same.

He was better now. He could acknowledge that. Ellie, and all that came with her, had served as a balm to his ragged edges. Jackson and its people. Having Tommy back, and the family he’d built with Maria. But he wasn’t naive. He’d known his day would be up eventually. His reckoning with Ellie would come, and it had. Nothing stayed buried forever, and eventually she’d discovered what he’d done. To keep her alive, to keep her for himself.

Perhaps his greatest sin was always trying to keep the women he loved. Always a failure.

Sarah, Ellie. You.

And now here he found himself again, on that same field in the middle of the night, surrounded by the end of the world, and clutching his whole life in the circle of his arms. Failing. Losing again and again.

Ellie had always been his reflection. A more hopeful, innocent mirror to all his cynicism and violence. But the same, nonetheless.

But you. You were his opposite in every big way that mattered.

Good and soft and honest. Strong.

And yet, there could be violence within you, when you so desired it. You’d let him have a peek of it on occasion.

Like the sun that burned his eyes from their sockets.

Violent, but necessary for survival.

You’d dedicated yourself to saving lives and healing, for Christ’s sake. All Joel’d ever done was destroy and kill. Even what he and Ellie had was on the precipice of death now.

And despite all of this. Despite everything he’d done to push you away. To hurt Ellie, no matter his intentions, he wanted. Savagely.

He wanted Ellie to understand why he’d done what he’d done. To forgive him. And even if she couldn't agree, then to just accept it. To set it away and let things be between them. To let it go .

What a selfish fucking thought, Joel Miller.

But he couldn’t help it; the goddamn world was over. Couldn't they just accept the bad things they’d done, or not done, and put it all away. And yet, at the same time, he could not hold it against her. Not even fault her. Because he knew her– he’d always known that the road would always inevitably lead them here. And still, he’d made the choices he’d made. In a way, he knew he deserved her ire. And so he bore it. Accepted it. Waited. But then– something new. You had come.

And he wanted you.

With a violence he’d never felt in a life filled with little other than violence. He could sanctify you with the fervor of his wanting. If he wondered at your own desires, he’d ask if there wasn't ever something you’d wanted so bad it pushed you into the depths of selfishness. A selfishness that bordered on cruelty to the outside world, but you just could not help yourself. You just had to reach out and take. He wanted to be that thing for you, that thing that turned you cruel and selfish.

And maybe that’s what this was, him taking you for himself; cruelty– like taking Ellie’s choices from her. But he couldn’t have helped it. He’d tried. God, he’d railed against this vicious want. But after the first time he’d touched you, tasted you, hell, the first time he’d fucking looked at you; all sense of choice had been taken from him.

All that was left after that was what would happen. What was inevitable. The thread that connected them was deep and dark and red. Not to be ignored.

The two circumstances were one in the same. And he couldn’t help but compare the present destruction of him and Ellie to what would become an inevitability between the two of you if he tried to be with you in any real way. Things always ended in one place for him.

And he’d ripped out so much of himself to cure the pain of Sarah’s loss, he now felt he had nothing left to offer, and what little he did, had gone to Ellie. The feeling of inadequacy was suffocating. Of missing some essential part of himself. He didn’t know if he was capable anymore, of that, of giving himself to someone new.

But he was afraid.

“C’mere, Birdie.” You crawl into his lap.

“Birdie?” A sweet, shy laugh. There was something about you, so akin to that sparrow. So small and fragile, but with the enviable ability to fly away if necessary. Within yourself, within your heart. There was a space within you he found unreachable to him. And he hated it and envied it all at the same time. Raged at himself for even wanting it in the first place. Knew that it only existed as a form of self preservation, of protection, against him. And the sound of your voice – lilting like the song of that sparrow – it fucking haunted him, it haunted him, it haunted him. Maybe he was a little like that bird, as well. Hollow.

Sometimes he just wanted you to hate him. To yell and scream and gnash your teeth and fucking demand something from him. Demand he let go of his cowardice and hesitations and fear. But he knew that very well of self preservation also allowed you to intellectualize his actions, parse together his motives and follow the thread to his root. Understand him in a way he shied away from.

He existed in different spectrums of himself. Different shades of a past that all coalesced into this man he was now trying to be and remain. Which was, perhaps, the hardest part of it all. To maintain that semblance of a good man he was fighting his hardest to be. A good father. A good brother. Helpful to his community and neighbors. Open to the world. It was fucking hard. Falling into old habits, letting the past crest up like a wave and drown him, that was the easy route. Staying on the straight path was the true test. And he knew– he knew how much he had to hold on to now, and all the responsibility that came with that. To cultivate and maintain his relationships, his friendships. He was appreciated, respected in this place he’d made a home. He’d lived a long time without respect from anyone, the world – or himself. He wanted to hold on to that.

But he was also aware that there was something missing. Something he still wanted, and before he’d met you, he’d been unsure of what that was. But the feel of a woman beneath him, around him– someone to know him as a man, and not a father or a brother or a friend– yes, that was definitely missed. And then, not just any woman, but you, you, you. Your appearance in his world had changed things for him. A burst of blinding light, an inferno creeping in his veins, without preamble or warning – the intensity of it almost unendurable for its sudden unexpectedness. It was empirically impossible for one to turn away from a change of that magnitude.

He thought of Tess sometimes. Her easy companionship. Her friendship. It was simple being with someone who never expected anything from you except to not get yourself killed. To stick to what was expected of you and not fuck up too badly you couldn’t keep your end of the bargain. But then… that wasn’t necessarily the truth of what they’d had either. Something still difficult for him to confess, even after all these years. And anyways, he was too old for that now. Shied away from getting into something like that again. A small curl of self consciousness making the appeal of it unsavory now. And this, between the two of you, he couldn’t codify it. Didn’t know what to make of it. Knew what he wanted of himself, of you. Knew what he would like to be able to give you and to take from you as well. Saying it out loud, confessing that, following through on it, was harder though.

Birdie, Birdie, Birdie

You reach up to scratch gently through the underside of his chin. The soft, thick bristles catching beneath your nails. Just one more inevitable thing in a world full of inevitabilities.

Sarah. Cordyceps. Ellie. Taking you for himself. His unwillingness to accept a thing, never made it any less true. Stubborn ass that he was, still after all this time, he could not kick the bad habit.

You settle your plush bottom into his lap and weave your arms around his neck, his hands coming up to curve around the bend of your elbows, pull you in tighter, as if he could stitch you to his very skin with the intensity of his wanting.

“You’re like a little bird,” he nuzzles the soft space behind your ear, sucks on the edge of your jaw, breathes you in. “My Birdie.” The soft sound you make goes straight to his hard cock and you spread your legs wider across his lap, grind yourself down onto him.

You bask in his attention, mind hazy and floating. You’re drunk on his touch, his scent, the sound of his voice, and you feel like you need to give him something. Give him some more tangible piece of yourself. Something you wish he could put in his pocket, tuck in his memory, carry with him always like a small, smooth stone, the weight of it knocking gently against his thigh as he moved about the world. You slink down the bed, settle yourself between his strong legs.

His middle is soft and thick, and you press a kiss to the swell beneath his belly button, further down to nuzzle into the soft thatch of hair around his cock. You breathe in the heady musk of him, and he’s restless, verging on aggressive beneath you — his control held on by the grace of a snapping thread. You take him in hand, show him you’re merciful, and give the hard thick length of him a slow tug. His size is obscene, held in your small hand, you can barely get your fingers around his girth; it makes you cunt clench and weep jealously. You gaze up at him, and the look in his eyes is feral, teeth bared in a gleaming snarl at you. You often think that he unmoors you, but in this moment, you have the power to unmake him.

You press small kisses to his thigh, the jut of his hip bone, nuzzle your nose at the soft skin there. And then finally, you offer him your tongue, tap the broad, dark red head of him once, twice, and then soft little kitten licks, across the crown, down his shaft. Not yet ready to give him the reprieve of your hot suctioning mouth. You lift yourself up on your arms to hang your head over his erection then, letting salvia pool on your tongue you let it dribble down in a long obscene thread onto his waiting cock, slide down. “ Fuck – fuck, fuck,” he growls then, savage: “Fucking swallow it or come up here, and give me that cunt. No more teasing, Birdie.”

You bend back down to tongue the slit and he hisses, snaps his teeth together; he’s harder than a fucking rock. You start to jack him slow and tight in long pulls, from the very base, up, up to twist your fist around the weeping head, pressing soft kisses to the tops of his thighs. And then finally, finally you wrap your puckered mouth around him and start to suck, hollowing your cheeks and laving your tongue all around the thick girth. It’s sloppy and so wet, your saliva dribbling down to slide over his balls and into his hair. Messy little girl . He grips the back of your head, fingers fisting in your hair. You look up at him in permission, and he starts to fuck your mouth in earnest. The muscles in your throat tightening around his head with every thrust. “Shit, shit, that’s good.” He lets his head fall back, and you take in the strong column of his throat. You can feel your pussy leaking onto the sheets beneath you at the sight of him and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He’s so fucking hot. And you want him so badly, always.

He feels your desperate squirming between his thighs, “Play with that little cunt, baby. I know it hurts.” You moan in response, suck him deeper, swallow around him as you slide your hand under your belly, down between your thighs and play with the wet mess there. You cup yourself and start to rock your hips, you know he’s watching your movements, the rise of your ass, letting the heel of your hand grind against your throbbing clit and then slide down to your entrance, dip your middle finger in to penetrate you there, gentle and shallow. You pick up the pace of your grinding, everything is so slick and wet, and your mouth opens on a shallow gasp, his throbbing length slipping out of your mouth and falling wet and heavy onto his belly. The two of you watch each other as you fuck your hand slowly, and then he’s rolling you over with the strength of his thighs, quick as a viper, as he manhandles you to his liking. He’s sliding on top of you, and then he’s got you on all fours, face pressed down into the pillows and ass up, up in the air, pulling on your hips and spreading you wide for his eyes to feast on. You feel his big hands grip your ass cheeks and pull you apart, your pussy wet and aching, you’re sure he can see your hole clench desperately. He bends to give your flesh a sharp, painful nip and you keen in response, his tongue soothing over it after.

“Please, Joel – please.”

“What do you need, baby? Hmm?” he croons. “You need my cock to fuck this little pussy?”

“Please–” you cry, a mess of tears and spit covering your face.

He runs a gentle knuckle over your soaked, puffy lips. “So red… so needy… Say it, wanna hear it.” He gives you his thumb, catching just over the edge of your opening, your mewl is high and whining.

“ Please, please, please–”

“ Tell me, Birdie.”

Hitching breath, he pulls out his thumb, swipes over your clit, just barely. “Please, fuck my pussy.”

And then his hand is gone and he’s giving you the whole unrelenting length of him in one quick thrust, and he’s fucking huge and harder than stone. Pressing up against your cervix until it hurts and holding there, and you want more, more, more. It feels so fucking good and you’re so wet – dripping down your thighs, you can feel it pooling in the crevices behind your knees, mingling with the collected sweat there. It’s lewd. Your walls clamp down on him, tight as a fist, and he lets out a snarl: “Don’t move.” A shudder wracks through him and you can feel him throbbing inside you, holding him heavy and hard in the deepest part of your cunt. You mewl, high and desperate, “Don’t move, don’t make a sound—” You can’t help the whimpers, he pulls them out of you forcibly.

“ Fuck–” and then he’s ramming into you relentlessly, over and over, kissing your womb on each thrust, and you see stars behind your eyes. His hands hold you open to watch where he impales you. “Prettiest little pussy, fuckin’ perfect and tight, Birdie” he says through gritted teeth. He pulls out suddenly, bends to swipe a long wet lick from your clit to your asshole. Oh, he’s filthy. You can only moan in response, flushing red and hot from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Your breasts are heavy and aching, the tips furled into tight points. And then he’s fucking back into you. “Gonna fuck it full of my come, baby. You want that? Want me to stuff you full, pretty girl?”

“Yes– please, please. I need it–” His hand slides up the length of your back to curve over your shoulder, pulling you back onto his impaling cock harder. His balls slap sharp and wet against your clit, and then you’re coming around him, something so deep and sensitive inside being rutted against unrelentingly. Your cunt pulls tight, almost painful, a hot little furl around him, milking his own orgasm out of him. He groans deep in his chest, torso folding over your back pressing you deeper into the mattress, and you can feel the heavy throb and jerk of his cock spitting inside of you. The fist in your hair jerks your head to the side and he swallows your pleas, tongue licking deep into your mouth. “Good– good girl,” kisses the tip of your nose, your brow.

“Little bird… s’soft” he whispers later. “ Who’s gunna look after these fragile wings that dream so big and want to fly so high?” The tips of his fingers ghost up and down the length of your spine, over the fine wings of your shoulder blades. His skin is rough, his trigger finger thickly calloused, and each pass makes you shiver.

“Can’t you?”

“Don’t think so,” he mouths at the tender nook behind your ear, along your hairline, “Ain’t got it in me. Not gentle enough, don’t think.” But how could that be true when no one in all your life, in all the world, had ever touched you as softly as he was now?

“My Birdie,” he murmurs, and he’s still semi hard inside of your sore, stretched out cunt. Leaking out of you. Messy. The both of you had stopped being careful a while ago. Stopped caring, really. And you know it’s an unspoken point of resentment in him, the fact that he can’t control himself. That he feels an instinct to fill you and mark you. To make you his in the most primal way he can. The fact that he can’t pull away from you, in this most precarious of moments, despite all the other ways he can, it chafes . The both of you look away from it, like so many other things between you – turn your faces away. Unwilling to stop, and do the right thing. Unwilling to consider the possible consequences.

Sometimes you wonder if the thought of those consequences appeal to him. Appeal as a form of subjugation. If that were to happen then he’d be forced to stop forcing himself to push you away. He’d be able to keep you the way you know he really wants to.

It is a delirious and precarious situation, the business of believing in something that’s constantly denied to you.

You wrap your hand around his thick wrist and bring it to your nose, breathe him in deep, press a kiss to the tender skin over the blue hued spidering of his veins. His heady scent of soap and sweat and musk, all mingled with your own scent on his skin. It makes you clench tight around him and he groans deep and wanton in his chest, grinds his hips further into you from behind.

“You know what I think you’re missing?” he murmurs into the sensitive shell of your ear– your messy hair moved by his breath. “Besides more of my cum–” He laughs – and oh, he thinks he’s so damn funny– another thrust, sharper now. Regaining strength. He grasps the inside of your thigh and pulls you open, hooks your leg back and over his hip. Moaning low, you say, “What’s that?” You wind your hand up and back to clutch his hair while he starts to fuck you slow and deep. You want all your conversations for the rest of time to be just like this, whispered into each other’s ears always.

His other hand slides down your belly, to slot his fingers over the place where he fits inside you, feeling the tight stretch of it. He cups you there and anchors you to roll your hips more deeply on to his hardening erection, the mound of his palm grinding into your oversensitized clit. This sort of stamina’s not normal for an old man, you want to tease. But then he says: “Some selfishness,” a little bit like a question. A little bit like an admonishment too. And you pause, he’s serious and it makes you afraid that it’s also posed like a warning, just for a second. “Be selfish, Birdie. Be selfish for me, just a little bit.” For me, he says, and it appeases you, comforts you. You think you may agree.

“Who says I’m not already?”

Chapter II

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #FOG fic

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ardienothesieno · 1 month

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SPECULATING ABOUT THE WATCHER

Wanted to make my own analysis post, as I've seen some comments on other sites pointing out things but nothing here so far... AND I AM TOO DEEP IN THE BRAINROT TO NOT ANALYZE THIS EVEN JUST A LITTLE BIT. SO.

I would like to mention that I have not played any modded regions! So if there are certain details that I make note of in the screenshots that have explanation in their original mods, please feel free to correct me!!

STARTING OFF WITH THE TRAILER:

youtube

Rot tendrils. Rot tendrils on the ceiling... just casually... that's totally not concerning...

The blue lizard only has two toes on each foot!

The background of this first shot looks like it might be on an iterator structure? There are some support beams but other then that it's just clouds.

The spears that the scavenger is carrying are kind of weird... for one, they're white. And one of them has a large, almost pinecone-shaped tip.

Also they have a crack in their face/mask.

what the pole plant doin

The Watcher doesn't seem to have a nose? That's probably just an art style thing, but I thought I'd mention it. Also their eyes are glowing.

Even the title font has implications. whoa.

For one, more rot. The rot has now made a double appearance and that probably guarantees its significance here...

And plants... Leaves and some vines.

The way that the black screen transitions to a white one is very rot-esce to me. Rot triple appearance...

There seems to be some graffiti on the right side of the final shot? It's obstructed by the visual effects in the foreground, however.

Once again Watcher is depicted without a nose BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT BECAUSE THIS SCREEN HAS IMPLICATIONS

Watcher is floating. Normally I'd mark this off as "cool title screen choice" but they're also surrounded by ECHO PARTICLES.

And the warping around the Watcher and the title? THE OUTMOST RIPPLES HAVE GOLD VEINS RUNNING THROUGH THEM. THE VOID IMPLICATIONS...

And this might be a stretch but the palette of this final image is black and gold... void colors...

OKAY THATS MOST OF THE TRAILER

ONTO THE STEAM DESCRIPTION:

Rain World: The Watcher is a DLC expansion of Rain World. Journey beyond to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed. When the world beneath your feet cracks and crumbles, will you hold on to all you once knew? Or dive into the unknown? The wilds that await will be unlike all that's come before. Unknown creatures stalk and climb and dive and hunt. New breeds rip and pluck and burrow and hide. Predator and prey redefined. And through the middle of it all, a lonely lost slugcat trying their best to outlast the ravages of a warped world.

Do... do I even have to say anything?

THE VOID IMPLICATIONS!! HOLY MOTHER OF SCUGS THE *VOID IMPLICATIONS!!!!*

"Journey beyond to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed. When the world beneath your feet cracks and crumbles, will you hold on to all you once knew? Or dive into the unknown?" YOU READ THIS AND TELL ME THIS DOESN'T HAVE VOID SEA VIBES. Journey BEYOND to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed... it feels very void-y to me. And the talk about the world beneath you crumbling-- holding on to what you once knew or diving into the unknown?? If this somehow ISN'T related to ascension I would be shocked

"And through the middle of it all, a lonely lost slugcat trying their best to outlast the ravages of a warped world." This line about the world being warped, as well... I'm thinking this DLC might either have to do with Rubicon, or have to do with the encroach of the void sea consuming the world from below.

Other then the void implications, it sounds like we'll be seeing some new creatures that could completely redefine the game. I'm excited to see where that goes.

OKAY. SCREENSHOTS. LETS GO.

I know these are from pre-existing mods, but I'm completely unfamiliar with said mods and don't know if any of this means anything. Just wild speculation, pretty much.

Gonna start with these two because they're kinda visually similar. On the left we have desert!!!! Cacti!! Cactuses!!!!! I've seen lots of people calling the image on the right snow, but that doesnt feel right to me. We saw snow in Saint and I do not remember it looking like... that. The first thing that comes to mind for me is Kingdom's Edge from Hollow Knight, and the drifts of ash that pile up there? If this is the case then it confirms several of my lore theories and I would so love that to be the case. There's also a collapsed structure in the back of the "snowy" image, which looks to me a bit like a train car?

Also I've now seen several people calling these milk... and I can't unsee it now...

I've been told by several sources that these screens are from preexisting mods! I think these are from Stormy Coast, Coral Caves, and Aether Ridge? At least that's what I've picked up from searching through other discussions. I don't have too much to comment on here! I think these rooms are cool, and I really like the fans in the Aether Ridge room!

...oh no... acid region..? I don't know why, but this room gives me Shoreline vibes. Also I do not think bubble fruit are supposed to grow that perfectly--

And finally... what I think has the possibility of either being a huge lore thing, or a complete false alarm. Well for starters it's purple

But there are no iterator cans in the background. We're above the clouds here; in every above-the-clouds show from the base game and Downpour, you can see iterators and communication towers off in the distance. There's nothing here. And I don't think this takes place near or after Saint, because there's no confirmed snow. And I think a lot of these structures would be far worse for wear if this were so far in the future that the planet has warmed again. So. Uh. That's pretty odd.

Again, these all might be from mods that I am unfamiliar with, so please correct me if I'm misinterpreting anything!!

AND THAT CONCLUDES MY ANALYSIS FOR NOW!

tl,dr-- This DLC is gonna be crazy. Also void

#rain world #rw nightcat #rw watcher #rw the watcher #rw nightwatcher #rain world the watcher #rw slugcat #rain world theory #I'm sure I missed a ton of stuff so feel free to add on!!#might make a separate post theorizing on some of this...#ramblings #brain rot #oc

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wrathofrats · 4 months

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@divine-misfortune finally made a post about the Quints and our beloved delta, so I thought I’d make a longer post detailing the lore we’ve been discussing. (Pls go support his art I am shaking it violently)

There’s something wrong with the water element, as a whole. There’s been so many water ghouls, and the only two ghouls to ever transition elements have been water ghouls.

There’s something about the element that is fundamentally more unstable, more prone to making the ghouls go feral and eventually being locked away to die alone or be killed before they can harm anyone or themselves.

Its a pattern that delta can’t shake.

He’s been told by omega what happened to those before him, and it terrified him. Stories of a terrible fate he can never overcome. Every weird thought and craving for blood is suddenly a sign he must be losing himself.

Delta obsesses over it.

He quickly starts looking over the old quintessence books in the library, wondering if there’s anything that could possibly save him. Spells and old tales of forcing different elements into a ghoul quickly catch his eye, he didn’t know it was an option to simply change his element.

He sneaks off with a couple books on quintessence. He spends weeks studying and coming up with a way to force the quintessence into his body in a way that will rid himself of his water element. It’s painful and tedious, ripping himself apart to force something unnatural inside of him. It works, just for a bit. Able to cast small spells and wield his magic as if he was a young quintessence ghoul.

The euphoria doesn’t last for long.

After the transition there’s no light left in his eyes, It's the first sign something is wrong

Alpha and mist are genuinely surprised to see him alive after he transitions. Checks him over thoroughly to see if there's anything amiss, when the only tell is his eyes are darker, they chalk it up to a miracle, that everything must have gone right and there's no reason to worry.

But delta feels wrong. He knows something else is going on. But he doesn't know how to communicate it, and he trusts alpha. So he ignores it, claiming Quints don't have glowing eyes, it's normal and expected

The quintessence hurts, feels wrong, like he swallowed a foreign object and can’t quite rid himself of the feeling of a heavy painful weight in his stomach and heart. The magic is powerful and not supposed to be there.

It rejects him.

his body decays and eats away at him.

Mentally and physically

The threads of the universe slowly ripping at his body and making him lose his mind. A much more painful and terrifying fate than if he had just accepted his water ghoul nature.

Deltas body slowly turns to little wispy shadow bits, showing his bone and muscle underneath.

He keeps trying to use the quintessence to heal himself, pull the skin over the "wounds", but it never fits quite right, the skin is too taught, it's not the right texture, it's wrong and he doesn't know how to fix it and he can't do it fast enough. Can't remember the spells day to day to save himself

#DELTA TIME FUCKERS #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #delta ghoul #wrath’s ghost lore

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chuuyascumsock · 9 months

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Hot Cocket || Minors DNI

I just realized I never posted my Dazai fucking a hot pocket fic on here. If the Ao3 babes had to suffer, y’all do too LMAO.

Summary: Ah, yes, welcome to the bullshit that I call “art”. Today’s episode: Dazai fucks a Hot Pocket. Don’t ask me what gave me this idea, my friend came up with it so thank him for this utter monstrosity. I suppose I’ll take the smallest bit of credit for wanting to write a crackfic of Dazai sticking his dick in something he shouldn’t— because it’s called having a sense of humor.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Hot Pocket, I talk about how dazai would definitely be a ham and cheese hot pocket kind of a guy, I make kind of weird metaphorical jokes, If Asagiri gets to blow children up then I can throw them into traffic, descriptions of fucking a hot pocket, descriptions of burning the dick (because he’s fucking a HOT pocket), um… creampie in a hot pocket..?, oh— and then Fyodor eats the hot cum pocket lol.

Dazai had been feeling particularly lonely on a Saturday night.

Without any women around to woo with his unhinged rizz, Dazai sought after a cheap comfort food he often turned to in his crippling depressive times. The freezer flings open with a creak to reveal the godly image of a box of hot pockets. As expected— nothing else resided in the freezer other than said hot pockets because Dazai was as broke as a medical college student in debt.

Dazai reaches a bandaged hand inside before grasping the box and pulling it close to his chest. He could already feel saliva pooling in his mouth as he re-lived his previous encounters and tastes of his hot pockets. But this one was different. This one was pepperoni. Normally, Dazai was a ham and cheese kind of guy, but they had been barren of any ham and cheese hot pockets. It made him sad to think about, but it also brought rejoice as he could finally try another flavor of hot pocket.

Dazai is quick to tear the box’s top off and reach a hand inside to grab the frozen snack pocket out. Even in a plastic wrapping, he could still smell the permeating waft of garlic and herbs. He fumbled around the kitchen as he ripped the plastic off and put the snack into the small cardboard pocket, basically throwing the hot pocket into the microwave like you would throw a small child into oncoming traffic.

Not really giving a fuck, Dazai punches the microwave which some how starts a two minute timer and the hot pocket starts spinning in small, grueling long circles. His eyes stare into the microwave’s glass window, taking in the way the hot pocket slowly warms up.

Deep down, Dazai wished to be a hot pocket. Because he, too, wished to be cooked in a microwave. What a way to go out.

It feels like eternity until the microwave beeps loudly to signify that the slutty— I mean tasty treat is done cooking. His eyes light up and Dazai takes the hot pocket out of the microwave. “It’s… It’s beautiful…” He whispers tearfully as the hot pocket steams from the packet. Realizing how hot it was the next few seconds after, he tosses it between his hands and onto the counter gently, “Ow— hot, hot— ahhhh.”

Staring at the hot pocket, Dazai begins to drool excessively— oh, and he was hard. Dude got a raging boner from looking at this hot pocket too long. Just like me fr.

“Aw man, now I’m super horny…” He whines as he looks down at his tightened slacks. He thinks for a moment before he looks back to the hot pocket and gets an idea.

The hot pocket steamed in need of his ACHING COCK (I can see you cringing behind that screen, Guac <3). Or at least that’s how Dazai took it because of how horny he was. “You want me, don’t you?” He grins at the hot pocket with desire— only getting a soft puff of steam in return and a whiff of garlic that made him twice as hard.

Eager to get off now, Dazai unzips his slacks and pushes them down enough to have access to the hot pocket. His accurate sized dick of three inches— I mean— his monster cock slapped against his stomach as he wasn’t wearing underwear because it’s canon that he goes commando. Dazai then took the hot pocket and brought it to his lips before taking a slow bite. And in typical Dazai fashion— he moaned loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear and got several noise complaints which all went to Kunikida’s answering machine.

“My god, you’re such a slutty tease,” Dazai groans, swallowing the cold ass bite that’s always at the end of the hot pocket. Pushing at the sides with his fingers, the hot pocket opens to reveal its gooey melted cheese and sloppy pizza sauce insides with the occasional chunks of pepperoni. Dazai stroked his cock until he had spread enough precum along his length, though it’s questionable as to why he would as he’s fucking a hot pocket pussy and not actual pussy because he gets none.

Wasting no more time, Dazai slid his dick into the scalding hot pocket and screamed from the pain of literal lava burning the skin of his dick. But he kept trekking through the feeling, because he’ll be damned having his dick blistered by some hot pizza sauce and melting mozzarella chunks ruin him from being horny enough to fuck a microwaveable snack. “Yeah, you like that you dirty, saucy whore?” He grunted, uncaring of the melted cheese and pizza sauce sticking to his now blistering cock.

As this poor hot pocket was being violated like no one’s business, Kunikida was sobbing himself to sleep after getting multiple detailed complaints about how loud Dazai was being while he was aggressively fucking a hot pocket like I did to your mom last night.

“I’m gonna turn you into a toaster strudel, baby,” Dazai moaned loudly, thrusting harder into the hot pocket before filling it to the brim with his cum. “That’s it, take my seed you cheesy whore…” He panted, pulling his dick out of the cum stuffed hot pocket. It took a few moments until he realized the damage that the hot pocket had done to his dick as he looked down to see the various red burn spots and blistering skin covered in pizza sauce, cheese, and pepperoni. “Now I’m going to need bandages for my dick…” He sighed, tossing the hot pocket aside like they didn’t have a special bond. “Well, I’m not hungry anymore, my dick hurts… Time to stick it in some ice cream~” Dazai trailed off to get Kunikida’s credit card to go buy and defile yet another item of food.

As the hot pocket sat on the ground oozing with cum, a rat squeaked and scampered by before sniffing the hot pocket. Deemed worthy enough to take it back to its master, the rat dragged the hot pocket into a mouse hole and scrambled through the walls of the apartments until it made its way outside and into a manhole. Making its way through the sewers, the rat finally arrives at its master.

“What is this?” A Russian accent echoes through the sewers. Slender hands pick up the rat and the hot pocket, Fyodor looking at both with a questionable gaze. The rat squeaks to communicate with the Russian joker and squirms out of his grasp to scatter off to its family.

“A toaster strudel, you say? I’ve never seen such a thing, incredible…” Fyodor doesn’t even bother to take a good look at the hot pocket to see the fluids dripping out of it before he takes a large bite and chews. His face scrunches up— but he keeps eating because man is anemic and refuses to eat anymore of his belly button lint to survive.

“What a strange tasting toaster strudel…”

#dazai smut #bsd smut #dazai x hot pocket #dazai fucks a hot pocket lol #mmmm crackfic #no apologies it was fucking hilarious #ive only had a hot pocket twice in my life

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onboardsorasora · 6 months

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Another 'idk what this is' post lmao. But my attempt at girl!Dan

Daniel entered the event, ducking her head a little to let her curls— that were more defined and perfect looking— cover her face a little. She was a little uncomfortable, but Blake and the stylist from their new main sponsor said she looked good.

This wasn’t the sort of outfit she normally went for, the flared pants were different to her usual (ripped) skinny jeans, but they cupped her ass and thighs in a very flattering way. The top was definitely nothing she had in her closet, it was slinky and metallic and exposed her entire back— which was a work of art thanks to her years of work and effort.

Christian, the man of the hour, was the first to see her and his eyes widened in surprise was enough to tell her that this deviation from her usual outfits was ‘radical’ indeed.

“Daniel. Wow.” Daniel smiled in embarrassment. She didn't surprise Christian often, in fact she last time she surprised him was in 2014 when she beat Seb. And maybe in 2018 when she signed for Renault. But that was different.

“Happy Birthday Boss!” Daniel grinned, clinging to Geri when she came over to hug her as well. Geri’s hand on her bare back felt odd but not as weird as she anticipated.

“Is this Hugo?” Geri asked, figuring the tiny eyelets that made up her top. Daniel nodded, she was head to toe in the former Alpha Tauri’s new sponsor. All her jewelry to her shoes. Even her underwear– including the nipple pasties.

“Yeah, Kelly the stylist came prepared.” Daniel joked. She knew Yuki was wandering around somewhere, he'd been marginally easier to dress and Daniel had many moments tonight where she wished she hadn't grown out her hair.

“Have you seen Max?” Christian asked, his voice was odd, maybe.

“No, I just walked in actually. Haven't even had a drink yet.”

“Of course, of course.” Christian nodded before encouraging her to chat with the executives around, all the important people invited to Christian’s 50th in Vegas. The race was in a few days, Daniel hoped she could stay the minimum amount of time and go.

She'd spent a little time talking to some new Alpha Tauri– Hugo Boss executives before she wandered to the bar. She leaned forward on her elbows, swiping her loose curls over one shoulder.

“hi, can I get you a drink?” A familiar voice sounded from her right and Daniel tucked her head on her palm and smiled over at her friend and former teammate.

“It's an open bar mate. Does that actually work on women?” She grinned at Max who took a moment to piece her voice with the person he was looking at. If she thought Christian’s surprise was impressive, Max's was almost a religious experience.

“Daniel? Wow– I didn't recognize you.” Max gushed, eyes wide. He was blushing, and Daniel fought hers to continue to tease him.

“So about this open bar, I'd love a tequila.” Daniel grinned at him, she could feel the gloss on her lips when she smiled widely. She hoped her eyes weren't completely hidden by her new lashes.

Max looked... Well she'd never seen him look [at her] like this before. He kept looking her up and down; like he was seeing her for the first time, like he didn't recognize her.

A bartender came over at Max's wave as if they knew that he specifically wasn't to be left waiting. Daniel wondered if her own picture was taped up at the back of the bar but they didn't recognize her with her new look. It didn't matter because Max ordered exactly what she wanted, down to the brand of tequila she preferred and how she liked her glass prepared. She didn't realize he paid this close attention.

Max handed her the drink, his fingers lingering on hers for a beat longer than normal. Daniel smiled at him in thanks, determined not to think too deep into it. It was Max– nothing was happening.

Max smiled his crinkley eyed smile at her as if she'd said something funny– she hadn't. Then led her away from the bar with a hand to the small of her back.

It felt…different than when Geri did it. Geri's fingers mainly did the touching, Max's palm was pressed into her skin, branding her like a tattoo. It's apt because her back was the only place she hadn't yet covered in ink.

Max was talking to her, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. Hyper aware of his skin against hers. It wasn't like it was the first time he's led her around with a proprietary hand, in fact it was pretty normal. But she'd never… she'd never noticed it until now. Not until it was skin against skin. It was harder to hide when there were no clothes to hide behind.

“Daniel, are you paying attention?” Max's voice broke her thoughts and she sipped her drink for something to do.

“Sorry Maxy, got a bit distracted there.” She bit her lip, letting it go quickly at the taste of lipgloss. She truly wasn't used to it. She looked at Max through her new lashes– his gaze was on her lips.

“I, of course, understand.” He murmured, it sounded as if he didn't even realize he was talking. “Daniel I–”

“Ricciardo Daniel, as I live and breathe. Is that you?” George interrupted and Daniel had never before now wished George could disappear so she could hear what Max had been going to say. He had shaken his head as if to clear his thoughts and taken a sip of his gin tonic.

Daniel smiled at George, wildly wondering if she imagined the twitch of Max's hand on her back.

“Russel George! it is I, I am me!” She chuckled and glanced over at Max to see he'd adopted his resting ‘go away’ face. Daniel was starting to feel lightheaded.

Part 2

#very meandering. no clue where i was going with this honestly. i could have stopped it a few paragraphs earlier maybe #maxiel #girl!daniel #max/daniel #rule 63

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drhenryblack · 6 months

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Finally got some fucking motivation

So, finally, I'm explaining the "Human AU" cause I'm happy my post got attention. And, please, I don't wanna sound cringe or anything but seriously, thank you for the amount of attention I've gotten over my posts, I really appreciate it. Now, time to get going! This story follows our soppy wet cat, dear darling Pomni, who's on a hunt for a part-time job because her job at C&A is not getting her enough money and she can't live on ramen and tap water forever. So, she gets a job at "The Amazing Digital Circus", a circus that uses modern-day technology like holograms and sound effects in its weekly shows. She joins and meets her now co-workers. There's Gangle, your classic introverted theater kid. Zooble, the puzzle master who despite her "I am done with your shit" behavior, is surprisingly good at entertaining kids. Kinger is a magician but also helps in the accounts. Ragatha, the human pincushion, and finally, Jax and Kaufmo, the brother comedians. She, at first, joins as a temporary employee, just ment to help before performance and all that, until she meets...him. Caine, the ringmaster. But what's worse, is that she's seen him, the REAL him. That look haunts her. Those unusually perfect teeth, that cracked skin that haunting feeling of seeing his jaw open abnormally wide. But what's worse is that somehow, he wants to promote her to be a permanent employee, mostly ever since he heard that she worked for C&A...weird... But shit gets a lot worse when one day, she has to stay after hours and sees some shit she dosen't want to. There he was, Caine, surrounded by nearly 50 men, guns, armor, what not. But it didn't last long. She covered her mouth, breath hitching in her throat as he ripped of his skin. 'one...two...three' He grabbed them, and slowly, it all went down... blood...scream...yell...help...muscle...intestine...stomach...teeth...sharp...gun...monster...tears...help...help...help She couldn't move, not one bit. Her body frozen as if ice. Each one of them, each one of them...each one those men...ripped, killed, shredded, broken, yelling. Yes, her life was gonna go to shit. Now she's wondering how the hell she's ever gonna face her boss, who apparently is an AI experiment who escaped C&A, the very place she currently worked for. No wonder he wanted to make her a permanent employee! I mean she knew her jokes were so bad that people laughed at them, but not that much! She doesn't know what to do, but then it hit her... When he got to know she was a C&A employe, why didn't he fire her at that moment? ... ... shit... she's in love with her boss... her life really was going to shit... So know were left with a traumatized Human-AI who's pretending he's not a fucking monster and another traumatized little wet cat wondering how the hell she even fell for him in the first place. And that's as far as I've fucking gotten. Working on a fic and a lot of art. Just waiting to get back home so I can post them. See ya'll, and the next time you'll see me, is with food.

#caine x pomni #tadc caine #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus #pomni #pomni tadc #showtime #showtime ship #showtime tadc #tadc fandom #tadc Caine #Caine #caine tadc #jax #kaufmo #gangle #zooble #the amazing digital circus caine #pomni x caine

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comfortfoodcontent · 2 months

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2024 X-Men #35 cover by Pepe Larraz

2019-2024 - RIP Krakoa Era X-Men

I love this cover. The art is amazing. It marks the end of the Krakoa era X-Men. It's been on my mind a lot lately and I had to get some thoughts out on it. If you know me, if you ever followed me or my comics site or whatever, you know I was a very loud, very big fan of the Krakoa era at the start, basically up until X of Swords and Hickman's decision to leave. It's finally ending.

2019-2024 - RIP Krakoa Era X-Men

But truthfully it may as well be 2019-2019 -RIP Krakoa Era X-Men. It pretty much failed from the start. I loved HoxPox when it dropped. It was, embarrassing to say now, life changing for me. I thought Hickman was a genius and had found a way to reinvigorate the line and render death as a cheap storytelling gimmick useless. A bunch of my faves were being used and ressurected. I was happier than a pig in shit. I joined Twitter and all the insane X-Fans on there. I started a website and a podcast dedicated to comics. Soon the Covid pandemic started. I was terminally online, my brain rot started and grew worse by the day. It was an insane wild ride that started high and died soon thereafter.

It's hard for me to separate my pretentious Comfort Food Comic media brand time with the pretentious Krakoan Era. Both started out so happily, so full of potential and optimism. To run a site or a podcast in these hellish times you must also play the social media game. Constantly be on there, constantly push your product. Being on Twitter during that time and being part of the X-Community, you start to see how much being on social media fucks you up. You constantly feel like you need to have an opinion on everything, and that it actually matters. You need to be a critic to every piece of media, every decision, every little thing someone says or posts. You lose your grasp on reality, the real world, how to function and interact like a normal human being not stuck hidden behind a screen with your dual public twitter profile and private locked one (something I'm glad to say I never stooped to). It brings you attention. It brings you friends. It pushes your product or brand. It gives you validation and the dopamine rush. It's an addicting, disgusting, fake as hell experience. I was fully caught up in it. It didn't help that I was quarantining and barely leaving my house for a few years. It got me through the pandemic but it also left me so much worse than when I started. Much like how the Krakoan Era treated the X-Men franchise.

Why am I talking about social media so much when I started with X-Men? Well, it felt like this era of publishing went hand in hand with what was being put into the comics. Every creator was constantly on Twitter interacting with fans, always seeing what they had to say. Even Hickman was on there. Dude just wanted to post photos from movies and talk about like what Gen X members he liked. He eventually left because insane X-Men fans wanted him to talk about George Floyd and compare real world race issues with some superhero comics and weigh in, OH GOD WHY ISNT HE WEIGHING IN PUBLICALLY??. It was really weird how fans dealt with that one. Vita Ayala, Tini Howard, Leah Williams - constantly interacting with fans, friends with many of them. A pretty cool thing really, but that shit started influencing their comics throwing in characters or scenes specifically to make some X-Men fan they know on Twitter squee real loud. Shatterstar is not your favorite AEW wrestler. We do not need a book of human X-Men fans who pretend to be mutants influenced by dorky X-Men fans online. We do not need longtime villain Apocalypse to become our "Blue Dad". Jordan White should be editing or at the very least reading any old X-Men comics instead of being on Twitter. We don't need to know what the X-Writers do on their Slack, or worse, what X-fans do on their own incestuous Slack. Gerry Duggan, a writer I loved and thought could do no wrong, joined this group and upped his Twitter usage and the brain rot commenced and his work was so influenced by it. I'll never forget when white people started using fuck around and find out on Twitter and then it was in like 3 of his books the next month. My point in this ramble is the books were being influenced by and written for the loudest X-Men fans on Twitter. The art was dead. The books were a product made in that echo chamber for that echo chamber. They got bad real fast because of our society's addiction to social media these days.

Now that the honeymoon phase is over and I've revisited a lot of these books I do still feel HoXPoX was a wonderful series, one of the best X-Men series, masterfully executed and a perfect jumping off point with so much to explore. I also see the usual Hickman faults. The my series starts some time later, not really addressing anything prior to it that all his books share, the insanely detailed long term plans that he nor the comics business machine will actually follow through on after a year or so, and the shadowy superior group of power that exists in all of his comics. The Moira retcon, while brilliant, quickly falls apart when they never develop her further, or deal with the fact Xavier and Magneto went on to have an entire publishing history knowing what amounts to their entire future until the Krakoa Age must be established. That never really worked and was ignored by the creators and fans alike, including me. So it never really worked from the jump.

Rather than keep the line condensed and maybe just let Hickman write his own story, they expand it out from there involving a bunch of different creators and new ongoings. Plenty of series to explore the ramifications of these retcons, the perceived ethnostate the mutants have established and their abandoning of the coexistent dream the X-Men always fought for, grappling with identity and what it means when death no longer matters, and the conflicts that would arise from having all these villains live with them now. Sadly we instead basically just got Utopia 2.0. Surface level shit where the mutants are on an island surviving that rarely ever went in on all the amazing story ideas we could have explored. But hey certain fans were happy because they could go "Hey Synch is here for a few panels!" or "this horrific out of character gladiator death ceremony is TOTALLY the same thing as my real life transitional phase". Nobody really wanted to question any of this in the comics or in real life. And hey sour grapes aside, we did get some cool stories and some fun character interactions and moments, mostly in the Hickman books. But even from the start, some of it is horrible, more of the same schlock - Fallen Angels a great example, or Hickman's more boring Giant Size issues or his Shi'ar issue, or half of every other title. What should have been being explored or dealt with in the text often went ignored and we got X-Men being superheroes or Otherworld nonsense, which at the time I ate up because I'm such a fan of the old Captain Britain material. Sadly that never really went anywhere either, just making nebulous dimensions that were out there somewhere, don't question it LOOK IT'S JIM JASPERS! ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED! Even things that should have been celebrated like Betsy and Rachel pushing through Gal Pals territory to being together felt largely flat and hollow and forced rather than natural or fun. And that was a common theme as it kept going. Everything felt forced, felt wrong, the writing felt amateurish and simple as it ignored more major issues or reasons to exist. Things just seemed to start happening for no real story reasons. No real further development or exploration. A ton of plots don't make sense as established history and characterization is thrown out the window. Nothing really matters. Rockslide is ruined forever just because. Arrako will never REALLY make sense, Loa and Mercury are psychopathic sex fiends, Pixie of all people is a callous death pervert, Banshee is a Ghost Rider, Warlock's doing something, Colossus joins the Quiet Council and just sits there, Children of the Atom is designated a "red" important book and does nothing of value or import, Moira gets pissy so she turns into a no shades of gray villain robot who skins her soul mate and wears his skin and joins Orchis, mutants are fucking so much and I guess just quickly going to term and they just abandon countless babies in the forest, Anole and a few others are brainless dolts who love the Shadow King, Onslaught is bouncing around, there's an old X-23, Synch is now the best and can recall any power ever magically but never talks to any member of his old team or deals with his death, Inferno as a whole essentially just didn't happen or matter, Sinister isn't Sinister at all he's a clone and there's 3 more of them, Casandra Nova is on a team, Doug knows secrets, Magneto buys a lighthouse, characters are randomly and indiscriminately put into The Pit, Shaw and Selene are maybe the only two villains ever that get examined in a way where maybe they shouldn't be buddy buddy with the X-Men - I need to stop now before I get more angry and depressed but I could go on and on and on. Point is things got bad. Like a ton of this was just bad writing and bad comics. I'm sorry. I get it. I was blinded too. I ignored things. I made my own head canons. I focused on the good stuff.

By the time Hickman actually announces he is leaving, things are already falling apart due to him and Marvel deciding to expand and stretch this shit out instead of just letting him do his shit and end it as a complete story or era. He does Inferno which as I said did nothing and didn't matter. It's good but it's a big ball of nothing. From there the books get worse and worse. Duggan's superhero X-Men book is fluff. Nearly every other series declines more and more. Hellions is a fun dark comedy, but sloppy and lacking that depth and exploration. Al Ewing's work tries hard to reach those Hickman highs and I found myself quite enjoying his work on SWORD and later on X-Men Red but mainly because it all ends up divorced from Krakoa as part of his larger Marvel Cosmic work, with great characterization. I really dig that work and it's common theme is really how off to the side not involved it is.

Later writers, including some real Literal Whos? and pretentious "novel authors" further dilute the line with their less talented work(I like Steve Orlando as a person but I desperately wish he'd try harder to write actual stories instead of being a human youtube video that summarizes obscure 90's comic characters for modern day zoomers). Kieron Gillen, bless him, tries to be the new Hickman and he does have some of the best Krakoa era material, but even he starts failing pretty badly. Sins of Sinister was a clusterfuck of boring nonsense for people who want to seem or sound smart, same goes for this current Dominion plot.

Looking at the art now I'm struck by how none of these characters are TRULY changed from this era, let alone had a lasting or defining story. It's crazy to me we went 5 whole years with this and really what has changed, ESPECIALLY with the current Orchis wrap-up story. X-Men fight some nasty humans who don't like them. We're back to that ALREADY. We aren't getting to the end of the Krakoan Era, we've been in it for quite some time. As I look at this art I see only 3 wholly new characters, which they'll be lucky if they are used after this. One of them is Pogg-Ur Pogg, a perfect example of this era. A big Aligator man, not much thought behind it, that fans LOVED. Sadly, he wasn't actually an alligator man. It was all a fakeout. That was some suit a little boring gremlin wore. A little boring gremlin. Nothing unique, nothing fun. Same old shit you've seen in thousands of comics. That's what the Krakoa Era was. Something that seemed SO DAMN COOL, SO DAMN THOUGHT OUT, but really it didn't have much thought behind it. It was a flashy suit of potential hiding the same old gremlin you've always seen. Even after the eternally online creators saw how popular he got, they didn't change any of this, they just thought we've got it. The suit/gremlin thing is good. It wasn't and they tried to bring it back for further stories but it was so lame at this point it was pathetic. Much like the repeated attempts to salvage and course correct after Hickman.

So here we are at the end. I can't believe I'm actually THANKFUL it is ending. That I actually want to regress and return to the X-Men as superheroes fighting their villains again. I've been rereading old X-books and I crave that big, bold excitement of what truly made the X-Men superhero team work. It's such a bummer and such a failure of execution with so many to blame. What DISGUSTS me so much is already seeing fans eulogize this era as perfection that was cut short by Marvel and not a fun experiment that was botched from the start. I'm with you, I was the biggest believer and supporter at the start. I joined Twitter, I examined every panel, made countless threads of discussion, debated and discussed every little thing with fellow fans. I wanted so much for this to be what it could be. Please, examine it honestly and critically. It's a failure. It's time to pull the plug.

It's ironic to me that I deleted my Twitter this year, the Krakoan age having the same amount of life my Twitter fandom life did. It went from such excitement and fun to soul sucking everyday nonsense. It seems fitting and emblematic of what this age was and turned into. This era, just like Twitter which influenced it so much, is/was a stupid, ugly, brain rotted mess dotted with sparing gold with the unrealized potential for so much more. I for one, welcome it.

Peace Out Krakoa Era, you won't be missed.

#krakoa #krakoa era #x-men #mutants #me #my writing #writing #comics #comic books #marvel #marvel comics #pepe larraz

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rollercoasterwords · 2 years

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wlw marauders fics

hello! this has taken quite a while to put together, but for anyone interested -- here is a list of a bunch of wlw marauders fics i have read and enjoyed :) green for a happy ending, blue for an angsty one, pink for something bittersweet <3

(note - on some of the longer fics/wips i have not finished reading the entire thing/all of what's available yet - those ones are marked with a *)

oneshots/single ch fics

seasons in desire, by dykesiriusblack (@dykesiriusblack)

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 12k

description: muggle university au; friends to lovers; mutual pining; get-together fic. one of my absolute faves, laura's writing always makes me want to bite my own fingers off like baby carrots.

let the ghosts sleep tonight, by outlaw_baby

pairing: dorlene

rating: unrated

word count: 7k

description: another one of my absolute faves; canon-compliant wartime look at dorlene's relationship w lots of mutual pining and some of the most beautiful writing i've ever read

Hey Dorcas, by moonymoment (@blurryayse)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 14k

description: friends to lovers, tracing dorcas + marlene's relationship at hogwarts over time. everything jude writes makes me want to rip my hair out and knit it into a blanket and curl up under that blanket and stare at the wall for three hours and this is no exception. happy ending

'81, posted anonymously

pairing: dorlene (kinda)

rating: T

word count: 4.6k

description: AU where marlene survived the first war with voldemort; a story about dealing with grief after the death of dorcas and so many other loved ones.

marlene mckinnon is not a coward, by AllThisAndLoveTooWillRuinUs (@wishingitwerewolfstar)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 6k

description: follows marlene coming to terms with her sexuality during the first war w/ voldemort, coming out, and confessing her feelings to dorcas.

sweet as rot, by vaindumbass

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 7.3k

description: au where marlene + dorcas are the ones to kill peter instead of sirius; they get thrown in azkaban. very much a toxic relationship, hurt/no comfort. gut-wrenchingly poetic writing

As The Light Disperses, by blanketed_in_stars (@blanketed-in-stars)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 4k

description: canon-compliant; follows dorcas + marlene's relationship during the first war up

Oxygen, by Stupidsimp100 (@stupidsimp100)

pairing: marylily

rating: T

word count: 3.7k

description: canon-compliant; unrequited love. james + lily announce their engagement during the first war with voldemort. mary + lily have a conversation about it.

Painting Marlene, by You_must_tell_them_stories

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 3.5k

description: dorcas is an artist; a look at dorcas + marlene's relationship through her art

hackery, by orphan_account

pairing: dorlily (dorcas/lily)

rating: T

word count: 1.8k

description: dorcas + lily get caught in an ambush during the war. honestly reads like a very long and beautiful poem i love it SO much and i am so sad that the work was orphaned bc i want to find whoever wrote it and give them a passionate kiss on the lips

Soft, Strong, Disposable, by doshu (@vdoshu)

pairing: narcissa black/mrs. zabini

rating: T

word count: 1.4k

description: a series of letters tracing the relationship between lavilla zabini and narcissa black

All the truths untold, by SeaDragons

pairing: dorlene

rating: M

word count: 11.3k

description: follows marlene + dorcas in their time with the Order during the first war; marlene thinks dorcas is the spy and is determined to catch her out

By the Book, by Squidgilator (@squidgilator)

pairing: dorlene

rating: G

word count: 6.5k

description: the Hogwarts library is intent on getting Marlene to read a weird old book, for some reason. Dorcas gets involved, shenanigans ensue. super cute and sweet

room 41 (kiss me goodybe every time you leave), by fivecenturiesverse (@fivecenturiesverse)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.6k

description: marlene and dorcas steal away to hotel rooms in the middle of the war

Wildflower About You, by jennandblitz

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.7k

description: modern + muggle au; marlene runs a cafe with sirius + remus, and she's been trying to work up the nerve to ask out her flower supplier

Perennial Tears, by violet_storms

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 1.3k

description: a short + beautifully written story about narcissa + lily's relationship. canon-compliant

Sugar Burn, by Remedial

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: G

word count: 1.4k

description: lily catches narcissa's eye at a bar

set me down in your warm arms, by NoStringsOnMe (@martelldoran)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 2.6k

description: lily and narcissa accidentally get themselves snowed into a cabin

Better By Far You Should Forget by violet_storms

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 1.1k

description: achingly beautiful little oneshot of narcissa reflecting on lily's birthday

it can't be hard to find a present right?? (wrong) by dduucckk (@inthewild-flowers)

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1.9k

description: modern + muggle au; dorcas and marlene are both trying to find last minute xmas presents for each other

if you can't love me honey go on just pretend by basketofnovas (@slashmarks)

pairing: bellatrix black/amelia bones

rating: T

word count: 3k

description: bellatrix decides to flirt with amelia bones for fun; it turns into something more

just hold out for tomorrow, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 1k

description: marlene + dorcas; a conversation during the war

How It Feels When We Fall, by veeagainst (@veeagainsttheday)

pairing: lilylene (marlene/lily)

rating: unrated

word count: 1.7k

description: traces marlene + lily's relationship during the war

will the muses sing our names?, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: dorlene

rating: unrated

word count: 2.2k

description: au where voldemort wins the first war, and the survivors have to find ways to keep on living

this is how it feels (when you fight back), by saiditallbefore (@saiditallbefore)

pairing: lily/alice

rating: T

word count: 3.2k

description: au where james + frank die, but lily + alice live. they end up going into hiding together, which leads them to grow closer + eventually makes plans to seek revenge...

laughing 'til our ribs get tough (but that will never be enough), by sapphfics

pairing: lilylene (lily/marlene)

rating: G

word count: 1.2k

description: a look at lily + marlene's relationship through the years, with an ending that gutted me

Darling, Tell Me Your Name, by shessocold (@hp-shessocold)

pairing: lilylene (lily/marlene)

rating: unrated

word count: 1.3k

description: marlene plays quidditch; lily definitely doesn't have a crush...

Devil's Snare, by elicitillicit

pairing: alice/narcissa

rating: M

word count: 1.4k

description: canon-compliant; friends-to-lovers; traces alice + narcissa's relationship throughout the years

Risking It All, by JackNSallyGal

pairing: marylene

rating: G

word count: 2k

description: during the first war, marlene and mary follow sirius on a mission to rescue lily

i hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old, posted anonymously

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: G

word count: 3k

description: lily + narcissa meet at the start of a zombie apocalypse (!!!!)

darling, don't leave me waiting (one night, i will be your star), by aheartcalledhome

pairing: narcissa/marlene

rating: T

word count: 1.7k

description: after it's all over, narcissa reflects on her relationship with marlene

auburn and ivory, by herrlucifer

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 3.3k

description: sad + sweet oneshot following lily + narcissa's relationship during their hogwarts years

The Captain's Girl, by JackNSallyGal

pairing: mary/emma vanity

rating: T

word count: 4.7k

description: after mary is attacked by mulciber, the slytherin quidditch captain becomes unusually protective of her

green looks good on you, by humanveil (@humanveil)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 5k

description: a prank war between hogwarts houses leads to an unexpected relationship between lily and narcissa

bend towards the sun, by lastwingedthing

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: T

word count: 5.3k

description: narcissa + lily find themselves spending a day together after ending up in the same apothecary for the same reason

Between Prospects, by MiraMira

pairing: rita skeeter/mrs. zabini

rating: M

word count: 6.3k

description: canon-compliant fic tracing the relationship of rita skeeter + thea zabini - listen i would never in a million years expect to enjoy this ship but this story is so good i love it

Blindness and Stars, by featherxquill

pairing: rita skeeter/amelia bones

rating: E (this one is...very sexually explicit lmao so be prepared for that if u decide to read)

word count: 11.3k

description: canon-compliant; follows the developing relationship between rita skeeter + amelia bones as they both deal with politics in the aftermath of the first wizarding war

i would kill for some company (temporarily), by lesbianregulusblack (@lesbiansiriusblack)

pairing: pandalily (pandora/lily)

rating: M

word count: 4.7k

description: pandora is a vampire, lily is a human; three guesses what happens next! (this one is very violent + graphic, even though it has a happy ending it is definitely not for the faint of heart. please read tags + expect gore if u decide to read!)

Deadhorse, by thebloatedfrog (@thebloatedfrog)

pairing: dorlene

rating: E

word count: 11.4k

description: marlene is working at denali national park for the summer, dorcas is camping in her van. geology + road trips + alaska + lesbians!!!

carmine, by moonylove (@lesbiansforjamespotter)

pairing: dorlene

rating: G

word count: 1.2k

description: marlene needs to apologize; essentially 1000 words of poetic + beautiful musings about lesbianism <3

Speak Now, by arakhnee (@arakhnee)

pairing: marylily

rating: T

description: lily is marrying james. mary doesn't want her to.

multi-ch fics

how the flowers rise and open, by gaywitches* (@daphnedumaurigay)

pairing: narlily; lilycissa (lily/narcissa)

rating: M

word count: 40k

description: "Despite the sneaking around and the urgency that serve as constant reminders that this is forbidden, clandestine, there’s no denying the quiet domesticity that creeps in at the edges. That somehow plunges straight through Lily’s chest and grabs her heart with both fists making her want, and want, and want, refusing to let go no matter how hard she tries to dig it out.

But, hey, things could be worse. At least she’s not in love with her.

Things are totally under control, and not at all likely to blow up in her face at any moment."

Lily is a smitten idiot, Narcissa is a complicated mess, and things are about as shambolic and sweet as trying to eat a sticky toffee pudding with no hands.

No Strings Attached, by allthedeadgays*

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar, jegulus, marylily

rating: G

word count: 53k

description: Marlene, Sirius, James, and Regulus have been waiting for the opportunity to compete at the Battle of the Bands for a long, long time; and they are quite sure that this will be an easy win. Until, that is, they find out that a certain band has also signed up— one that they have known and despised for months. Eager to emerge victorious, their fellow classmates Remus, Dorcas, Mary, and Peter are willing to do whatever it takes, but beware, unexpected feelings may arise…

wips

Your Laugh Like Flowers, by andromedas31

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar, jegulus, rosekiller

rating: unrated

word count: 14k

description: Marlene and Dorcas are on opposing teams of the most suspense-filled war for the Quidditch Cup Hogwarts has ever seen. James Potter spreads the word about the teachers' supposed underground betting ring, and more importantly, how Dumbledore bet in favour of Gryffindor's win. Naturally, inter-house chaos ensues. Naturally, in spite of it all, Marlene and Dorcas manage to fall in love.

Invisible String, by a1phab3ts0up*

pairing: dorlene; side marylily, wolfstar, jegulus

rating: M

word count: 38.6k

description: And isn't it just so pretty to think. All along there was some Invisible String, tying Dorcas to Marlene.

pirate AU of the misadventures between two captains forced to work together while avoiding the occasional near death experience and desperately trying (and failing) to not fall in love along the way.

Mutually Assured Destruction, by Aiofhan

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 4.3k

description: Marlene finds herself stuck in an advanced Arithmancy class with Dorcas Meadowes and basically no one else; if she can't find a different class to take, she'll end up stuck sitting next to an uptight Slytherin all year. Oh, the horror.

to all the lions i've loved before, by shslflamingarrow (@shslflamingarrow)

pairing: lilylene (marlene/lily)

rating: T

word count: 16.2k

description: based on "To All the Boys I've Loved Before" - Lily Evans' love letters are her most secret prized possessions. She writes love letters when she has a crush so intense there's nothing else she can do. The four letters in total are Frank Longbottom the head boy from her first year, Remus Lupin her third year study buddy, Marlene McKinnon long-time best friend, and the newest one. James Potter. When her letters somehow get out, after James has settled ona new girlfriend, the only person she can turn to for help is Marlene and her own letter.

i'm a sucker for the wicked, by siriusisaswiftie*

pairing: dorlene; begins with pandora/dorcas, eventual side pandalily

rating: M

word count: 10k

description: Dorcas Meadowes is doing fine, thank you very much. She’s doing well in school, she’s finally found a group of friends that care about and support her, and to top it all off, she has an incredible girlfriend who she loves. Pandora is kind, caring, and everything Dorcas has ever looked for in a partner, and she refuses to let anything, or anyone, get in the way of her perfect relationship. Especially not Marlene McKinnon and her relentless flirting and ‘don’t care’ attitude.

A Darling, A Demon, A Lamb, by brightened

pairing: alice/lily, james/lily; past marlene/lily

rating: E

word count: 10.8k

description: this story follows lily during the first war; with ever-increasing discrimination against muggleborn wizards, her decision to marry james was more about survival than anything else. and besides, after the death of the woman she loved, what else was she meant to do? (heads up this one is incredibly dark!)

Alaska, by anotherbelladonna

pairing: dorlene

rating: T

word count: 2.3k

description: after marlene runs away, she finds herself living with a kind group of strangers and is immediately drawn to her new roommate

strange trails, by lovejoybug

pairing: dorlene (eventually)

rating: T

word count: 14.7k

description: Dorcas Meadowes wasn’t scared of anything – or at least that’s what she’d been telling people for as long as she could talk.

That wasn’t to say there wasn’t anything to be scared about; the Dark Lord was collecting everyone she knew like chocolate frog cards. Eventually she’d have to make her choice – and time was ticking.

in which Dorcas Meadowes, Slytherin’s self-proclaimed bitchiest witch of the generation, faces the trials and tribulations of a (quite literally) cursed love life, a tumultuous residency at the horror that was Nott Manor, and a rather aggressive desire to say to the hell with it all and take matters into her own hands

honey honey, by aeoneskova* (@aeoneskova)

pairing: past dorlene; marlene-centric fic

rating: M

word count: 156k

description: Marlene McKinnion is shunned from the Wizarding World after her insane claims of Sirius Black’s innocence.

Over the next decade, she has made a life for herself in the muggle world, working as a teacher in a Primary School in Surrey.

But when a boy with green eyes and a lightning bolt scar joins her class, she is thrown back into a world she has tried to leave behind, but will do what it takes to make sure he is safe.

canon-divergence au where marlene survives the war

+ bonus! fics abt pre-marauders era wlw

like a flower to the sun, by Krethes (@krethes)

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/poppy pomfrey

rating: M

word count: 2k

description: traces minerva's relationship with poppy over several years

Dark and Fearsome, by chantefable

pairing: walburga black/minerva mcgonagall

rating: G

word count: 3.3k

description: follows walburga + minervas relationship, from walburga's pov. written from first person pov which i personally normally don't vibe with, but the writing is so beautiful on this that i loved it anyway

Dark and Fearsome (The Constant Moon Remix), by The_Wavesinger

pairing: walburga black/minerva mcgonagall

rating: M

word count: 1k

description: a series of moments in walburga + minerva's relationship, caught on the brink of a war

what bitter thing is this?, by the_crownless_queen

pairing: rowena ravenclaw/helga hufflepuff

rating: T

word count: 1.2k

description: rowena can see the future, but nobody ever believes her

Her Fight & Fury, by jadepresley

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/augusta longbottom

rating: T

word count: 6k

description: academic rivals to lovers to exes; so well-written and somehow cute + fun while also being a little heartbreaking

Roots, by acidpop25

pairing: rowen ravenclaw/helga hufflepuff

rating: G

word count: 1.4k

description: short + sweet story about rowena + helga's relationship

Bibliomancy, by redsnake05

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/irma pince (past helga hufflepuff/irma pince)

rating: T

word count: 12.4k

description: irma pince is called into being as the librarian by the four founders of hogwarts. this story traces her life and service to the hogwarts library. so unexpectedly beautiful and one of the most unique fics i've ever read

With Love, The Pixies (WIP), by pumpkin_heist_lattes*

pairing: minerva mcgonagall/poppy pomfrey; side rolanda hooch/pomona sprout

rating: T

word count: 22k (ongoing WIP)

description: Minerva McGonagall is split down the middle. One half of her is the perfect student, the uptight girl who cares more about grades than feelings. The other half strains to run wild, playing pranks and laughing in the way only her closest friends get to see. Neither half has time for a silly crush on the Quidditch team healer.

Poppy Pomfrey only has one goal - make it through Hogwarts and learn enough to become the Healer her family needs. Friends are barely part of that plan, let alone falling for her judgy rival.

Before the Marauders, there were the Pixies. And Minerva, Rolanda, Poppy, and Pomona have their own share of heartache, laughter, mischief, and angst to get through first.

+ here's my own writing, bc why not :)

The Hand That Feeds, by rollercoasterwords

pairing: dorlene; side wolfstar + jily

rating: M

word count: 235k

description: Marlene McKinnon is a mess. She can’t sleep, she’s almost certainly going to fail all her NEWTs, and she’s 99% sure that if they don’t win the Quidditch Cup this year James Potter will throw himself headfirst off the Astronomy Tower. On top of all that, there’s a war on, yet their professors seem determined to pretend that the biggest problem any of them are facing is finding a Ministry internship. Marlene’s final year at Hogwarts has barely started, and she’s already pretty sure it couldn’t get any worse—that is, until she shows up for her first Potions class and hears the assignment.

Dorcas Meadowes is a stone-cold bitch. At least, that’s what everyone says. She doesn’t need well-meaning professors or overeager classmates or teammates or boyfriends or friends. She doesn’t need anything except to be left alone, the way she likes, until the day she finally leaves school. And she certainly doesn’t need Marlene McKinnon, with her sharp tongue and her snorting laugh and her stupid shiny hair, who seems intent on ruining everything that Dorcas has been working towards for the past two years.

canon-compliant fic that follows dorcas + marlene from 1977-1981

Alice, Look At Me by rollercoasterwords

pairing: alice/narcissa

rating: M

word count: 14.6k

description: canon-compliant fic following narcissa's life from 1955-1993; friends to lovers to a never-ending "what if"

Emmeline: Spring 1981 by rollercoasterwords

pairing: dorcas/emmeline

rating: M

word count: 5.2k

description: this a single-chapter oneshot from a series of oneshots written as companion pieces to atyd - sirius's pov; however, it can be read as a stand-alone, so i'm including it here :) a look at dorcas + emmeline's relationship during the first wizarding war

#fic recs #wlw marauders #wlw fics #if anyone has recs to add please feel free!!#also if anyone happens to know the tumblr for any of the untagged writers #please lmk!#txt

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