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#monster/alien/human society
jooba · 14 days
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wolfman x reader
"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."
TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation
wordcount: 2,388
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Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).
One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too. 
In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.
“This is serious? You’re serious?” 
“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”
“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing. 
“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.
“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.
“So what?” 
“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.
“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.” 
“What?” 
“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details. 
“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest? 
“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded. 
“Of course.”
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You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text. 
landing now
You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair. 
Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.
“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.
“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter. 
“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?
The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made. 
“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.
“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe. 
The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter. 
right in front of you. so dense.
You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.
“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!” 
Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are. 
“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…
One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.
“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare. 
“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.
“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.
“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.
“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.
“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.
“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.
“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased. 
“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. 
.
.
.
Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity. 
“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.
“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?
Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing. 
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch. 
“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head. 
“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.
“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.
“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.” 
Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed. 
“Oh, okay,” you mumble. 
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buttercupart · 2 years
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introducing: freak of the earth
#hartwin's home realm is not discussed much and thats on purpose bc it Isn't as plot relevant#as the home realms and customs of the vices are#WHICH - tangent - you can think of them as a cross between DR's darkners and gems from SU#they're an extradimensional alien society that once had abundant contact w/ humankind#hence why so many of them resemble earth animals even if they're very obviously Off#anyways anyways they took on human 'charges' like the concept of guardian angels and made a magical 'covenant' w/ said human#that if the human they're making a deal with fulfill's the Vices half of the covenant... the vice will reward them#by ridding them of their most undesirable qualities and vices. so they were given the name of Vice based off of what they could rid you of#but if you FAILED the vice that acted a guardian to you then it could possess you and make you its host and you'd become a monster embodying#the very trait you wanted the vice to remove/ help you learn to grow past. if that makes sense#but underworld demons? those guys are Just little assholes. like they're such pricks for fun#w/ the 'plot twist' that vices are meant to be good influences and that the actions of some of them are NOT NORMAL its supposed to raise the#question on if -hartwin- finding joy in soaking human people in milk and hurling them at the wall w/ a big THUD is normal or not#and the answer is Yes. yes it is. they're All like that regardless of ranking. well those guys just are not nice#Xenith here is no exception. xenith is undyne from under tale if she was an evil villain for ever#my art#oc stuff#references
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kaialone · 1 year
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Krillin is a Human-type Earthling, in contrast to Animal-type Earthlings (like Oolong), and Monster-type Earthlings (like Pilaf)
These are all considered "humans" from planet Earth
Nothing to be confused about :^)
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literallyaflame · 6 months
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okay. listen. if you ever find yourself falling into a new ideological circle, pay attention. if you notice that you’re among people who define themselves as part of an “in-group” with a pre-prepared human “enemy” to constantly rail against—if everyone fantasizes about the mental state of these loathsome monsters, if they participate in witch hunts or (perhaps worse) poke bears and court harassment on purpose to comfort each other over—get the fuck out. you haven’t been enlightened to some grand conspiracy, there are no evil “enemies” or “degenerates” trying to rip apart the fabric of society, and you do not have the moral duty to “enlighten” anyone to whatever you think the “truth” is. it’s neither safe nor normal to spend hours of your day fighting with strangers on the internet
a lot of people wear this shit like a badge of honor, but it’s also not normal to hide your “in-group” status as a form of martyrdom, relishing when the “enemy” slips up around you. it’s comforting in the moment, but in the long run, you’re alienating yourself from the world outside of your bubble. the more you alienate yourself, the more vulnerable and lonely you become, and the harder it is to reject the comfort of belonging to the “in-group”
i’m writing this from the perspective of someone who grew up in a cesspool of awful, cult-like rural churches—which is its own situation—but i see similar shit happening in online communities all the time, both within and 800 miles outside of my own ideological principles. yes, every toxicass radfem i block seems to be trapped in a version of this vicious cycle, but i also see it happening in random queer circles and niche fandom communities. no one is immune, not even me. i’ve watched people fall into this shit and never make it out. be careful
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Do the ethnostates inherent in major fantasy ever feel real weird to you? You’ve got elftopia (full of elves, where everyone speaks elf and worships the elf gods), orc-hold (full of orcs and maybe their slaves, where everyone speaks orc and worships the orc gods), and dwarfton (made by the dwarves! for the dwarves!).
You might have some cosmopolitan areas, usually human-dominant, but those are usually rare enough in-setting that they need to be pointed out separately. Is this just based on a misunderstanding of the medieval era, and the assumption that countries were all racially homogenous?
This has been bouncing around my brain the last little while. Do you have any thoughts on that? Is it just in my head?
I think what you've noticed is a quirk of derivative fantasy writing, which like a lot of hangups with the genre originates in people trying to crib Tolkien's work without really understanding what he was going for:
Though it contains a lot of detail, Tolkien's world is not grounded. It functions according a narrative logic that changes depending on what work in particular you're focusing on at the time (The Hobbit is a fairytale full of tricks and riddles, Lord of the Rings is a heroic epic, The Silmirilion is a legendary history).
One of the reasons the races are separate is to instill the feeling of wonder in the hobbits as POV characters for the reader, other folk live in far off places and are supposed to feel more legendary than our comparatively mundane friends from the shire. The Movies captured this well where going east in middle earth was like going back in time to a more and more mythologized past.
In real life, people don't stay static for thousands of years, no matter how long their people live. They meet, mingle, war and trade. Empires rise and fall creating shrapnel as they go, cultures adapt to a changing environment. This means that any geographic cross section you make is going to be a collage of different influences where uniformity is a glaring aberration.
What the bad Tolkien knockoffs did was take his image of a mythical world and tried to make it run in a realistic setting. Tolkien can say the subterranean dwarven kingdom of Erebor lasted for a thousand years without having to worry about birthrates or demographic shifts or the logistics of farming in a cave because he's writing the sort of story where those things don't matter. D&D and other properties like it however INSIST that their worlds are grounded and realistic but have to bend over backwards to keep things static and hegemonic.
Likewise contributing to the "ethnostate" feeling is early d&d (backbone of the fantasy genre that it is) being created by a bunch of White Midwestern Americans who were not only coming from a background of fantasy wargaming but were working during the depths of the coldwar. Hard borders and incompatible ideologies, cultural hegemony and intellectual isolation, a conception of the world that focused around antagonism between US and THEM. These were people born in the era of segregation for whom the idea of cultural and racial osmosis was alien, to the point where mingling between different fantasy races produced the "mongrelman" monster, natural pickpockets who combined the worst aspects of all their component parts, unwelcome in good society who were most often found as slaves.
This inability to appreciate cultural exchange is likewise why the central d&d pantheon has a ton of human gods with specific carveouts for other races (eventually supplemented with a bunch of race specific minor gods who are various riffs on the same thing). Rather than being universal ideals, the gods were seen as entities just as tribalistic as their followers.
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theresattrpgforthat · 4 months
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Protect The Child - Playtest 1.0
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Humans have always been protective of their young, sometimes overly so. Humans have also always feared that which might make their young strange or different, and so insist that only humans can raise their own young. Monsters cannot raise human young. This is known.
You have a human baby. You cannot find its parents. What is even worse, is that this child has powers, powers that others covet, and so everyone wants it. If you want to prove that you’re not the heartless monster that everyone says you are, that means you’ll have to raise it, at least until you find someone who is better suited to it than you. 
You are creatures of fur, scales and fangs. You have claws that can rend flesh, faces that can crack mirrors, howls that can cause ears to bleed. 
And your charge wants a blankie.
Protect the Child is a Forged in the Dark game about monsters caring for a young human, a human who contains strange and mystical powers that make them a valuable asset in any monster crew. The setting and factions present in this game are flexible: you might be aliens in a far-flung future galaxy, fantasy monsters from rival kingdoms, or even everyday wild animals that fear human society. 
This is currently in alpha playtest, so it is as of yet barely played. I'm releasing it for free for folks to pick up and fiddle around with - there is no current setting, but there are tools to guide you into making your own!
I'm excited to talk more about this game as I develop it, and if this looks like a game that you'd be interested in, I'd love to hear others' thoughts on it!
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starstruck-if · 1 month
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You weren't supposed to be here. Why were you here? You know full and damn well that you setting foot on this planet could spell catastrophe for any unfortunate form of life that lived there if you were ever to be found.
But it's not as though you had a choice. Where else would you go? So, you did what any other terrified being did. You fled. That fate-sealing choice was what brought you here.
What brought you to her.
You had fallen from the sky and into some poor, unsuspecting woman's territory. She had been holding a glowing box-shaped object in her hand, staring at you with those mesmerizing scarlet red eyes of hers. She didn't seem bothered at all, albeit a little shocked.
Crouching down to your trembling form, she tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear, quirking a brow at you. A strange, playful grin stretched across her pretty face.
"Who the hell are you?"
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ST☆RSTRUCK is a (probably) upcoming 18+ dark fiction interactive novel where you play as a runaway alien from a different galaxy, find refuge on a planet called Earth, and befriend a worldwide famous girl while also trying to fit into society and avoid getting caught by the cosmic gods.
DEMO: TBA
Play as an otherwordly being! Choose between male, female, and anything in between. You'll be able to change pronouns whenever you see fit.
Romance from a choice of characters. I see characters as having their own identity as a human would, so some RO's are gender-specific.
Try to blend into human society! You'll be able to shape the Star's (MC) personality through choices.
Customize your Star's alien appearance and human form!
Choose a special ability: telekinesis, empath, mind reading, super strength, teleportation, mind control, necromancy, light manipulation, and more!
Make allies if you choose to tell others about being an eldtrich monster! Watch your back, though. It would be wise to not be too trusting.
Uncover dark secrets about characters, the universe, and yourself as you go. Some things aren't as they seem.
Decide whether or not you belong on Earth, or if your place is within the universe.
Save humanity! Or destroy it. You do you.
...Fight a space kitten?
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ROMANCE OPTIONS
Embry Harrison (F) || The Popst☆r
The young human that found you — probably because you literally crashed into her backyard. She's the only person who knows what you are. Embry is fun, not to mention she's drop-dead gorgeous. Playful, free spirited, mischevious, she's also your best friend who happens to be a worldwide famous popstar, actress, and model. She's just the person you need when it comes to knowing how to hide yourself under a facade...or perhaps she's the worst if you'd like to keep a low profile, due to her constantly being stalked and bombarded with crazed fans.
Could she be hiding something beneath that smile?
"Ah, I keep forgetting you're from a different planet or whatever. Okay, check it out! This is what we mortals call a phone..."
Special: Poly Option with Shade or Love Triangle
Trope: Best Friends to Lovers or Unrequited Love/Idolization
Shade "Prince" James (M) || The Prince
A childhood close friend of Embry's. He's the eldest son of a billionare CEO and the heir to the company. He also seems to hate your guts, for some reason. You've never been able to work out why. Standing at 6 foot 3 with an attractive face and more money than he knows to do with, Shade could get anything he wanted and any woman he asked for. However, that sour attitude and introverted nature drew everyone away, much to his appreciation. The only people he seems to truly care about are his siblings and the very few true friends that he has.
"What do you want?"
Gender-Locked: Female/Male MC's
Special: Poly Option with Embry or Love Triangle
Trope: Enemies/Frenemies to Lovers
Axel James (M) || The Eclipse
Axel was used to being ignored, it was expected. His older brother was made to take over in their father's place eventually; he was just a backup. Always coming second, desperately wanting his parent's attention. He never held it against Shade, though. He loved his brother. He was used to finding out his friends weren't actually his friends, or his crushes were merely there to get closer to Shade. He felt pathetic, being in the spotlight but having no one you could truly rely on. Did anyone truly care? If he just disappeared, would anyone bother to look for him? Those thoughts plagued his mind for years and years, and every passing moment, he started to believe they were true.
...Well. Until he met you.
"...Hey. Uh, I'm — shit, okay — sorry. Thanks for...well, being here, I guess."
Trope: Friends to Lovers or Unrequited Love
Epiphany "Pip" James (F) || The Sun
Could she even be counted as a true 'James'? She was the result of an affair an unfaithful Mr. James had. Once Mrs. James had found out of this, she forbid her from speaking to her half-brothers.
Did she let that stop her? Hell no.
In secret, the trio of siblings texted and called and met up. They were close, all three of them. It was amazing, really; how someone who had been shunned by society and harassed daily managed to stay so positive, bringing energy wherever she went. She was the personification of sunshine and rainbows.
Or so you think.
"Oh, hey! Listen, listen! I found this SUPER cute café yesterday and - huh? Oh, it's okay. I don't care what everyone else thinks as long as you like me."
Gender-Locked: Female/NB MC's
Trope: Friends to Lovers
Astro (Selectable Gender) || The Supern☆va
You remember this person vaguely. They have the same name, the same voice, the same mannerisms as someone you knew long ago.
But that couldn't be possible.
They were dead.
"I missed you."
Trope: ??? to Lovers
"Khaos" (M) || ???
No...no. He couldn't have found you. You hid so well. You're just imagining things. Yeah, that's it. There's no way you just saw [REDACTED]'s haunting gaze boring into your mind — you were overthinking this; playing tricks on yourself because you were stressed.
...That had to be it. He's not here.
He'snotherehe'snotherehe'snotherehe'snotherehe'snot—
"Found you."
Trope: ??? to Lovers
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aro-geo-turtle · 1 month
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One thing I really appreciate about malevolent is how well established the character motivations are.
Like, there’s a pretty sudden shift from season 1 Arthur-is-the-murder-happy-one to season 2 John-is-the-murder-happy-one but the shift makes sense! In season 1, the supernatural creatures are alien invaders into Arthur’s familiar world and he’s still freaking out that they exist in the first place, so he reacts to them with fear and violence. Meanwhile John is just as much an unwanted invader as they are and has no idea who he is except for a creeping suspicion that he might be one of them, so he’s sensitive about Arthur’s violence towards them
But then in season 2, Arthur’s no longer in his own world, he can’t rely on the familiar rules of human society so in that insecurity he reaches out to try and find allies. Plus he’s grown accustomed to the supernatural and has learned though John that even the KiY, the worst thing he’s ever encountered, can become a friend. On the other hand John is now in his own world, where he is the one who knows the rules and he’s needs to impress upon Arthur how dangerous it is, keep him safe. He knows who he is now, and while it’s bad, he still knows now that he isn’t one of the ordinary monsters they face and perhaps that lessens the empathy he can have for them
Then the switch to season 3 means it’s back to Arthur’s turn for murder-happiness but that’s just because he’s having a mental breakdown
Arthur and John also just have different priorities. Arthur’s a detective at heart, he always wants to know, to get all the answers and truth. Also, although his moments of truly being suicidal are rare (part 26 👀), he’s certainly not very precious about his own life or that worried about dying. Meanwhile, the very first seed that went into the John we know was being FUCKING TERRIFIED OF THE DARK WORLD. It is unfortunately one of the cornerstones of his new identity, that he knows exactly what happens when he dies and will do anything to avoid going back there (/not stay there, part 40 👀). His objective is to keep the two of them alive no matter what and the clash of that against Arthur’s desire for knowledge is the cause of most of their fights
It’s just such good characterization work
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lonelystarrs · 7 months
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𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝑨 𝑫𝒐𝒈 𝑨 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆
𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇! 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒆𝒊 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
Description: Blue Lock had a secret and a serum but it wasn’t enough this time, fortunately there was something that could help Shouei —you, and nothing was stopping him get there.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI seriously. Kinktober + extremely descriptive + monsterfucking + werewolf Barou + knots + collar /marking/ breeding/ size kinks + fluff at the end I couldn’t help myself sorry <3 I love the ending tho 🥹 +
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The smash of glass was unmistakable as it echoed through your apartment, the recent phone conversation still rattling around your mind.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
You understood but none the less the information was a shock, a difficult thing to comprehend in a short space of time, monsters were real… it wasn’t just myth.
Aliens were easy to believe, it was never gonna be a shock when society admits they know of their existence… but werewolves?
Seriously?
That was something you really thought out of fiction… like those corny Halloween horrors of real weird looking wolf men made on a budget.
You stood in your living room, the phone in your hand that had ended the call not even five minutes ago, still debating on perhaps this was some kind of joke.
It all became very real when the heavy footsteps cracked over the glass, the low growl that could be heard made your throat dry, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as the hot breath behind it skimmed over your skin.
The low growl, the light clacking of teeth meeting, the hot pants against your neck.
“He will come to you and you won’t be able to run, this is no joke.”
It was too late to even think of running, Barou had already found you.
The growl this time was loud before a long snout appeared over your right shoulder, lips peeled back revealing perfect white teeth that were anything but human, long white canines dominated the rest, drool starting to dribble down onto your shoulder.
He sniffed, turning his head to you to nuzzle his nose into your hair and that’s what made you spin around, phone flying from your hand skidding under the table.
Red eyes were glowing in the darkness of your apartment, the low light from the TV causing a shadow to dance over his features and the only way you recognised this was Barou was from that cross on the side of his head, the fur not covering it like his hair when he was human.
He stood taller, a good 2-3ft taller and he looked ridiculous in your apartment, his shear size was five times his usual. His coat was black, long hair covering him but your could still see the muscle under it. Long claws flexed at his side which led you to look at a semi hard cock leaking, flexing as his gaze fixed on you.
The tip curved up at the bottom, appearing from a fur sheath, it was a deep red and glistening in pre, dripping from the tip which kept throbbing.
He hadn’t just grown in height and form, everything about him was physically different, physically enlarged. Human form he was big enough to take just about, still a struggle if you’d not seen him for awhile…. But this looked impossible now, length easily measuring your forearm but the sheer girth of it made it more intimidating.
“B-Barou?”
A low growl was your only response, paired with him stepping one clawed foot forward, cock flexing again as he sniffed, glowing red eyes locked onto you.
“H-Hey B? C’mon you can hear me right? You understand?”
His lips curled upward into a snarl and you reacted out of pure instinct, turning to run but only managing to get half way around before he lunged and tackled you to the floor, thrusting his hips forward his inhuman cock pressing into your ass. You muffled a yelp, face smushed into the carpet below you as he began to rut against you, panting next to your ear and using his entire, enormous form to pin you down forcefully.
“Five years ago during the introduction to Blue Lock certain members were infected with a werewolf virus, to improve the players on the field. We created a serum before infecting them to stop the more… animalistic changes and traits to develop. However, there has been some reluctance to the serum during certain…triggers.”
You cried out under him, mixing with a moan when he changed his angle and lifted your hips to press his girthy cock against your covered core and you clenched around nothing. The feeling of panic and this being wrong was quickly leaving you from the pulses sent to your cunt, replacing with a fucked up curiosity for him to fuck you like a feral animal.
“He’s still Barou, he’s one of the few that keep good control over himself and he takes his medications religiously… They all take a serum to prevent them going into ruts so it’s why you’d never experienced it before. They also try to stay away from potential mates around their ruts as it does test the limit of the medication. The serum also stops them transforming on full moons, he’s had two doses but it’s had no affect and he’s even broke the restraints.. has anything happened recently that’s been odd? That might have caused his instinct to override the serum?”
Your silk night shorts riding up, his desperate rutting easing the material aside and you felt him rub up against you bare, a moan leaving you as his tip caught your clit, a deep rumble formed in his chest. His hips stuttered as he clumsily tried to angle his cock against you, the silk shorts too twisted and tight for him to work out in the state and angle he was in. Instead he slotted between your thighs and began rutting again, heavy balls bouncing against the back of your thighs and his curved tip grazing your clit harshly.
Your voice begging his name again made him suddenly pull away flinching, stepping backwards with an almost whine and backing up against a wall, you turned over onto your back, silk night top twisted leaving a strap off your shoulder and twisted shorts. Panting you watched him stumble through the living room into the darkness of the hallway knocking things over, snarls and whines coming from him like he was in pain.
You followed carefully stepping over the shattered glass, eying the claw marks that dragged down the walls knocking the collection of photos you gathered over the years with him.
You reached out when he herded himself into the bedroom where the large window was smashed in from his entrance earlier. The full moon glowed a beam into the room and on his form, panting heavily trying to leave back through the window. Your fingers brushed his fur only for him to swat at you and snarl again, baring his teeth and red eyes flashing, almost illuminating in the dark of your apartment,
Yet you didn’t feel threatened by him.
“It’s going to hurt him, as said Barou is more aware, there are only two others who can manage like he can. But he will be pain fighting himself. Unfortunately there’s nothing we can do if he gets to you, he’ll fight to the death if he sees you as a mate and if he’s during a rut like this we stand no chance, he’s the third most aggressive in the pack. He’s too valuable for us to risk injuring, so I’m afraid we are going to have to let you deal with it, it’s the only way he’s going to calm down.
Be aware that if this information gets out, we will deal with you ourselves, do you understand? Someone will be by tomorrow to drop off an antidote to prevent him infecting you —take it within 12 hours and once a day until he is out of rut. There will be a care pack for you, it will be by the door. I can assure you miss, you will be needing the pain relief, take one tablet a day.”
“Fuck off.”
His voice echoed with something behind it, something else mixing in with the voice you knew so well. He was drooling, silver spit watering through his teeth and sticking to his coat, he was panting hard through his nose like he was fighting for self control.
You released a shaky sigh, trying to relax yourself and your heart slamming against your ribs, you were sure he could sense it but smiled at him regardless, stepping back with the moonlight still glowing on your form.
Your hands rising to pull down the straps of your top, thumb hooking into the band of your shorts and you shimmied them off your body leaving you bare before him never breaking eyes with him.
His widened staring at you frozen, half looking over his shoulder from the frame of the broken window, seemingly calming for a few seconds as if he had registered what you were getting at but not fully believing it.
His foot on the ledge retracted back into the room and he turned around to face you, red eyes on your body like he was in some kind of trance, letting you step forward into his space.
“It’s okay, Barou.” You stepped forwards and he didn’t move back this time, watching your every move with glowing red eyes. You reached forward tracing it around the small formed knot that throbbed before running a finger up to the curved tip then pressing to the slit spreading the ridiculous amount of pre he had leaking from it.
“-fuck me, that’s what you need right? It’s what you want?”
His lips curled back, teeth bared and his ears flattened and you could almost hear him warning you not to fucking tease him. Wrapping your hand around his cock, fingers not managing to touch from his girth you stroke him to try to encourage him, his hips jolting forward as his cock flexed in your hand.
The deep grunt that left him made you laugh lightly at him, running your other hand up his chest noticing something hidden —a snapped chain resting in this thick fur. You wrapped your hand around it and pulled it forward causing him to lower slightly, you watched it trail up his chest and link to a thick collar as you pulled it from his coat.
It made you groan out in a pleased manner, pussy pulsing causing your thighs to rub together.
“I’ll take it, I’ll take you B. How about if I tug on this if you’re going too far? You can stop yourself, I know you can, you’re such a good boy..”
The smile you gave him was enough, your shitty humour showing even though he could hear your heart racing behind your ribs.
You walked backwards until the bed hit the back of your knees, pulling the chain forward encouraging him to follow you —and he did.
He was stiff and cautious, wary about his movements in fear of losing control of himself, not helped with you encouraging him like you were.
Made worse when you sat onto the bed, released the chain, leaned back onto your elbows and spread your legs for him.
The pink dusted across your cheeks, his glowing eyes focused on your cunt glistening for him and the smell of your arousal.
The worry in him flew out the shattered window.
Barou surged forward, large clawed hands gripped under your thighs, cupping your ass and lifting your hips from the bed until you only had contact with the bed on your shoulders. Throwing your legs over his shoulder and opening his jaws, his bite was so large you fit perfectly between them. Silver teeth glistening as they rested gently on your stomach, others pressing into your ass and lower back, his large tongue shooting out and licking a long, thick stripe up your cunt and he growled at the taste.
Your hands shot forward to bury into his fur, gripping just behind his ears. Mouth agape as you stared at him in shock, something flashed across his eyes and it was the last moment of mercy he gave you.
Inhuman tongue started to lap at you, over and over greedily and sloppily —you could hear his tongue against you. Messily swirling around your entire cunt, leaving nothing untouched. Your legs shaking already as he held you up to his chest. Heavy drool spilled down your ass and back, bucking your hips into him as he hit everything.
“F-Fuck, Barou S’so good, baby m’gonna cum if you ke-hah~! There, there -fuck M’cumming! You’re making me- fuck!”
Your eyes rolled back, no noise managing to leave you at the sheer explosion through your body from cumming so fast, practically convulsing against him as you came hard and he wasn’t stopping.
You babbled at him, trying to pull away from his rough tongue but he refused, claws digging into your skin as a warning, jaws clamping down on you keeping your body slotted between them.
The noise that left you was unholy, shoving his entire tongue into your pussy filling you, the feeling was foreign and it made you squirm under him as he practically cleaned you out of cum, his thick salvia coating your insides and covering you entirely.
He was panting hard as he pulled back, tongue lolled out to the side as he lowered you to his cock, legs over his forearms, large clawed hands holding your hips and weight easily as he glided himself along your pussy, using it to rut against and slick himself up, his red eyes fixed watching himself rut against you.
His now inhuman cock bigger than usual, slit leaking pre like it was drooling for you, his knot starting to get bigger.
Your shakey hand reached out to grab the chain again and he looked up at you, eyes locking with your own and he stopped thinking you’d changed your mind, cock flexing against you in protest.
Instead he seen no reluctance just you looking at him with needy, glassy eyes.
You nodded at him through heavy breathing, body still shaking from cumming so hard and your legs were still quivering, cunt clenching around nothing.
“G-Go for it, trust you B.”
His ears flattened like it was a show on uncertainty, pulling his hips back and sliding along you again until his curved tip caught your drooling hole. Easing himself in he stuttered above you, his sensitivity through the roof as he felt you start to stretch to take him and you were tight. He growled, a deep rumble from his throat as he bared his teeth again watching himself sink into you, frothy ring of white forming as his pre met with slick and spit.
You hissed at the burn, chewing the inside of your cheek and throwing your head back, one arm following to grip the sheets behind you with one hand. The others grip tightened on the chain leading up to Barou’s collar and you pulled him forward, unintentionally pushing him deeper swallowing his dick.
His thrust forward was impatient and rough, filling you instantly and stilling in you for a few seconds to regain his self control, cock flexing uncontrollably inside you and you huffed, the air knocked from your lungs feeling so full, looking down to see your stomach bulging from him being so big.
You moaned as he drew his hips back, dragging against your walls leaving no inch of you untouched inside, cock covered in slick and drool he used to make it easier for you to take him.
Claws planting either side of you he set a rough pace, a sloppy, wet plap plap plap echoing in the room. His hips slamming into you watching the bulge in your stomach move with each thrust, his panting becoming heavier as his knot started forming at the base, only just slightly thicker than he was. A link of slick forming and breaking each time it hit your clit, eyes so focused on fucking himself fucking you like this.
Instinct kicked in and he pulled out flipping you over onto your stomach with one clawed hand gripping yours, moving it down to hold against your lower stomach, he rutted against you clumsily sliding between your ass and thighs until he found your hole again. Crying out as he filled, you both feeling the bulge form in your stomach from his hand above yours.
“Feel… it?”
His voice was deeper, gruffer and sounded like two voices mixed together, you nodded dumbly against the mattress, your ass in the air as he mounted you from behind burying himself balls deep.
Switching to shallow thrusts, not using his length this time and you figured out why when you felt yourself started to stretch again, his knot was forming inside of you, Barou was keeping himself in so he could plug you.
The claw near your head dug into the sheets, piercing the mattress as he fucked you in short hard thrusts, panting against your neck, his tongue lolled out drooling on you.
“Mine, Mine..”
He was between growling and grunting, using his body weight to keep you pinned down as he fucked you into the bed.
Your eyes were crossing, unable to form words just pathetic little noises. Only grounded by the feel of him fucking his cock into your hand through the bulge was making your cunt clench around him. Swallowing his knot as it swelled in you, when it started rubbing against that spot your breath hitched in your throat.
“B-B m’gonna squirt if you-“
He was ignoring you, using you as he rutted against you like a desperate animal, unable to move from his entire weight over you, you could only lay there and take it. Your knees were starting to buckle and even when you fell to the bed he didn’t stop.
Your legs straightened between his and he only leaned forward more to press himself to stay in you, fucking you in prone bone instead of doggy. He slid his hand out from on top of yours between the bed, leaving you to feel the bulge, gripping your ass cheek he pulled it apart to watch himself spread you open.
“Fuckin’ cum-“
Barou rotated his hips, watching his knot prevent him from pulling out, the squelch of slick mixed with pre was lewd. He started to thrust again, those short hard punches watched by his glowing eyes and he growled when your hips perched up, crying out as you came, squirt releasing from your cunt over his fur as he kept pounding into you.
You were practically screaming under him into the mattress, convulsing under him as he fucked you into seeing stars.
Unable to pull from you, your walls clenching around him painfully brought him with you, a stuttered thrust and he spilled into you. He watched his knot pulsing as he emptied everything he had, growling when you came again around him begging him with babbling words.
“Keep it’ in,”
“M’full, Barou I can’t take anymore, I’m full —s’too much.”
“Said could, so take..”
He thrust forward to make his point, claws digging into your ass keeping it open so he could watch your pussy pulsing around his throbbing knot.
“Fuck - fuck it’s too much.”
Barou felt your body trying to push him out, cock drench in cum that he’d unloaded into you, when his knot deflated he pulled from you with a lewd pop watching as it all poured from your swollen hole. Your skin red from his vicious slapping, small cuts from his claws as he dug them into you.
His ears flattened again, looking up your body seeing it shaking lightly, breathing uneven as you tried to calm down, leaning over you he nuzzled into your neck as if trying to give some kind of comfort.
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Waking up alone didn’t feel right, the bed empty of Barou felt different to when he was away for soccer. The dull ache between you legs was weirdly pleasant, but your whole body was aching more painfully, neck difficult to turn and your hips hurting.
Your eye caught a small white bag on your beside table, sitting up onto your elbows you noticed a glass of water and a large red pill with a white line through the middle sat there.
Along with a note that was in Barou’s ridiculously neat, pretty writing.
𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 -𝑩
You recalled the phone conversation, about them sending you something to prevent getting infected and pain relief but you’d never seen a pill like this before.
You swung your achy legs out of bed, grabbing the glass of water and pill to swallow.
You noticed the sheets changed and clean, you were also in one of Barou’s hoodies that drowned you being so big but you didn’t remember any of that…
Had you passed out or something?
It was comforting that he was obviously feeling himself, being the neat clean freak that he was.
The door shutting caught your attention and you stood, walking towards the kitchen, the claw marks still down the wall but the glass and broken pictures had been cleaned up.
You arrived in the kitchen the same time as Barou, who was carrying a bag of groceries, also drinks from your favourite coffee place with a small food bag, however the only thing you focused on was his expression and it was stormy.
He wasn’t happy.
At all.
“Hey B-“
“Shut up-“
You frowned, pouting and looking else where as he turned to look at you, striding over to you in no time and his hand curled around the hoody at the front, pulling you up close.
“Are you fucking stupid? The fuck do you think you’re doin’ pulling that shit last night? You realise I could have—“
He paused his words, just staring at you unable to find it in himself to actually finish the sentence and it made you look back at him.
Barou Shouei never cried, he claimed he never had when he was born and you doubt he ever would, but the closest you’d ever get to seeing that was now, his red eyes glazed ever so slightly and his jaw clenched. It was a mere second but you caught it, your hand lifted to his face tucking the stray strand that had fallen from his messy half man bun.
“You’d never hurt me in any way, it doesn’t matter what you are it’s still you, I guess I felt that. Plus you needed help and you came where you should for it, besides…” you prodded his cheek, before patting your chest and puffing it out “-I’d say I was very brave! The loyal ol’vagina never fails you does she?”
“Tch,”
He released you, shoving his hands into his pockets and glaring off down the hallway over your shoulder. Wisely not reacting to your shitty humour, as he calls it. You noticed how tired he looked, unusual bangs under his eyes just noticeable.
“I thought you hated the half man bun look anyway?”
He rolled his eyes and turned back to the kitchen, grumbling something he didn’t think you’d hear under his breath.
“You like it, spoilt brat.”
You cackled before running up to him and jumping on his back, despite his grumpiness his hands wrapped around your thighs as he gave you a lift to the kitchen, sitting you down on the island next to the groceries.
He went to walk forward and grab your coffee, but your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his back against you and kissing the cross on the side of his head.
“You still have this when you’re… y’know,”
He managed to turn in your grip, planting his hands either side of your hips, his eyes skimming over the bruises on your thighs from his hoodie riding up.
“-you uh, you still got that collar Barou?”
Surprisingly it didn’t take much convincing to get it around his neck again, your hand wrapped around the chain as he buried himself balls deep into you. Pulling him forwards he rested elbows either side of your head against the bed to hold himself up, hips rolling into you beautifully as he sent a steady pace, his human self looking far for familiar than what fucked you last night.
“You wanna breed me, good boy?”
He sneered at you, looking a little pissed off but his cock flexing inside of you said otherwise. You tugged on the collar as he choked out noise before glaring at you.
“You keep doin’ that I’m gonna cum, fuckin’ stop it.”
Rolling your hips up into him he let out an airy moan, meeting yours with his own response, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing.
“Thats the point-hah- fuck feel s’good-“
Your head rolled back into the mattress, Barou dove forward locking his mouth around a nipple as you arched up into him, his knees spread keeping your legs over his hips, your thighs over his and your hips elevated. His more human cock stretching you out as he rutted down into you, the squelching and slapping of his wet balls against your ass.
“Keep makin’ that noise-“ he looked up at you, thrusting harder again and angling himself, the same beggy noise leaving you “-yeah, that. I found it huh? Gonna give it up, or I gotta keep fuckin you dumb like this?”
“N-No m’gonna c-cum, don’t stop, don’t stop-“
You pulled again and tightened the collar unintentionally as your vision went white, you came around him so hard he couldn’t pull his cock back, he moaned against your skin, hips jolting as he suddenly released, the tension on the collar almost choking him out and he was drooling.
“Ah, fuck-“
Barou held himself over you, cock flexing as he shot out hot cum into your swollen cunt, his stomach twitching and hips jolting as he kept unloading himself into you.
“M’still damn cummin’ shit..”
You clenched down on him, rolling your hips to encourage him to move and he planted his hand at your hips to stop you, a choked noise leaving him before he glared at you, his cock too sensitive to handle it.
“You sure you ain’t the one ruttin’? Acting like such a needy brat. You took the medicine right?”
You nodded dumbly, falling slack to the bed and waved him off as he pulled from you, wet cock slapping against his thighs watching as cum drooled from you, replacing with his fingers abruptly making you wince and jump up.
“S-Shit Barou w-“
“Stop pushin’ it out, I just cleaned the damn sheets! Get your ass in the shower!”
“Have some damn modesty Barou! It’s not my fault you’re cumming so much!”
“Quit whining and move! Shower.now.”
“I ain’t a puppet ‘Sho you can’t have your hand there and expect me to walk!”
Grumbling under his breath he wrapped his other arm around your waist, swinging you around with him until he sat under you, standing he threw you over his shoulder keeping your ass up as he walked to the bathroom.
“Such a fine ass, Barou Shouei. Look at it go! Such pride.”
The slap you gave it rang through the apartment, followed by a scream as he turned the water on cold.
Watching you panic under the stream, slapping at nothing in hopes of hitting him and you ranting out unfavourable names, he smirked at you.
His heart racing in his chest, the weight lifted from him knowing you’d accepted this side of him —his disappearing around full moons and ruts would be no longer, he’d stay with you.
The last thing he just had to do was put that damn ring on your finger that had been sat in his locker for the last five months.
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©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.
Footnotes: “he’s the third most aggressive in the pack.”
So that was my twist on him being the third best fighter in Blue Lock, after Shidou first and Kunigami Second (this is actual canon btw!)
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johannestevans · 6 months
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Big deep dive into themes of sexual violence and rape culture as portrayed in Alien (1979, dir. Ridley Scott)! About 13k.
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Here is a horror film about rape — and not just rape, but forced impregnation and reproductive coercion — that doesn’t use the word rape, doesn’t use words like sexual violence. Although the reproductive threat remains the same and the alien herself is phallic in appearance, the xenomorph’s assault is a degree removed from “actual” on-screen sex, so those words are never needed. The xenomorph penetrates her prey via her facehuggers, and through this process, impregnates them against their will, sometimes without even their awareness. It is a direct parallel to sexual violence amongst human predators and their victims but is not in itself sexual when presented on screen.
Because it doesn’t use those words, we strip off the assumptions people have about the gendered aspect of this sort of violence. In the sci-fi setting, using a unisex cast and also introducing androids as well as human beings, we also strip off the forced binary of male and female.
In Alien (1979), it’s not just cisgender women who are at risk of being forcibly impregnated with a dangerous parasite that could kill them as it grows inside them, as with human pregnancy as assumed by cis society — it’s everybody. And because the monster is an alien — a big, clawed alien that’s very penis-like in its design — there is not the same ability for the filmmakers to in some way romanticise or downplay the violence of the assault.
There’s no need to humanise the rapist or explain that he’s a lonely man who just wants female companionship, really, and shouldn’t society provide for a man like him? Isn’t the real cause of his violence against women that no woman provided for him, to cater to his needs as a man?
There’s no need to humanise the xenomorph or her facehuggers — they are alien creatures who seek only to breed and survive. They have no voice, only violent action.
But here comes the real horror of the film and what ramps up the terror inherent in it: yes, the xenomorph and her children are acting only on instinct, but Earth’s society is thinking about the value of it. The xenomorph’s offspring might be worth money. They might be converted into weapons and fire power, and scientific advancement.
In real life, the damage is losing the rapists who work at the company, or dealing with the media fall-out that might occur if rape victims spoke up about toxic work environments, or the legal fees that might be incurred — and thus, victims are silenced, let go, the working culture makes certain to defend and further enfranchise abusers while silencing and disenfranchising victims.
In Alien, The Company does what any company does in our society. It measures the damage caused by not just the assaults and the coerced impregnation and the death that will be caused in the result, against the potential profit of the xenomorph’s DNA, no matter how scary or violent or traumatising the xenomorph and its behaviours are.
Alien (1979) then becomes a perfect metaphor and parallel for sexual violence in our society — and especially as a male victim of sexual violence myself, but also as a transgender man, it really cuts to the core of the horror of it for me.
Yes, it’s terrifying to be raped, but it’s not terrifying because men are strong, and they all want to rape women, who are always so pure and innocent — women rape other women or men or nonbinary people; men rape other men and the same; corporations and other for-profit enterprises might work towards invasions and corruptions of individual bodily autonomy because it benefits them monetarily or societally; other political and governing bodies might work toward the same.
The terror of rape is in the invasion of your body against your will, your powerlessness to stop it or defend yourself, whether by force or coercion. It’s in the collapse of your desires for your body and its purpose as you see it to that of another person’s, or a third party’s.
And when that rape can come with the threat of pregnancy, there is a further terror — can you access emergency contraceptive and/or abortion services? Will they be delivered to you without prejudice and without delay? Will you be forced to submit to further invasions of your body, having a rape kit done, being tested for STIs, and having to describe your assault to police or to other violent authority figures, who as you describe it, will demean and undermine you, and do anything to discredit your testimony? Will you have to flee your state or country to get medical services to end a pregnancy? Will you be blocked off from these and forced by the state to carry a pregnancy to term, on top of having already been raped by an individual?
Unlike many other horror movies about rape, no one gets raped in Alien (1979), and then at the end, does a stirring monologue to sad piano music about how, yes, they were raped and attacked, but they couldn’t possibly kill “an innocent life” by having an abortion, because any female rape victim’s natural instinct is, of course, to want to be a mother to their rapist’s children. Anti-abortion activists aren’t putting facehuggers on their posters and their propaganda.
Read more on Patreon / / Read more on Medium
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writing-with-sophia · 10 months
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Common character archetypes in literature
Character archetypes are universal patterns of behavior, personality traits, and motivations that are commonly found in literature, mythology, and other forms of storytelling. They are often used as a shorthand to help readers quickly understand and relate to a character's role and purpose in the story.
Here are some common character archetypes:
The Hero: The hero is a brave and noble character who goes on a quest or journey to achieve a goal or overcome a challenge. Examples of heroes include Odysseus in Homer's "The Odyssey" and Frodo in J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings."
The Villain: The villain is an evil character who opposes the hero and tries to prevent them from achieving their goal. Examples of villains include Darth Vader in "Star Wars" and Iago in Shakespeare's "Othello."
The Mentor: The mentor is a knowledgeable and seasoned figure who directs and encourages the protagonist throughout their adventure. Examples of mentors include Gandalf in "The Lord of the Rings" and Obi-Wan Kenobi in "Star Wars."
The Trickster: The trickster is a mischievous character who uses their wit and cunning to achieve their goals. Examples of tricksters include Loki in Norse mythology and Hermes in Greek mythology.
The Damsel in Distress: The damsel in distress is a female character who requires saving from a hero. Examples of damsels in distress include Princess Peach in the Mario video game series and Sleeping Beauty in the fairy tale of the same name.
The Wise Old Man/ Woman: The wise old man or woman is commonly portrayed as having immense wisdom and expertise, and often acts as a mentor or guide to the protagonist. Examples of wise old men and women include Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series and the Oracle in Greek mythology. Such archetypes have been frequently employed in literature over time to communicate universal themes and concepts about human existence.
The Innocent: The innocent is a pure and uncorrupted character who often serves as a symbol of hope and goodness. Examples of innocents include Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz" and Boo Radley in "To Kill a Mockingbird."
The Outcast: The outcast is a character who is rejected by society and often feels a sense of alienation or isolation. Examples of outcasts include Frankenstein's monster in Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" and Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter."
The Temptress: The temptress is a seductive female character who lures men into danger or temptation. Examples of temptresses include Circe in Greek mythology and the character of Delilah in the Bible.
The Scapegoat: The scapegoat is a character who is blamed for the problems or issues of others. Examples of scapegoats include Tom Robinson in "To Kill a Mockingbird" and Piggy in "Lord of the Flies."
The Rebel: The rebel is a character who challenges authority and often advocates for change. Examples of rebels include Winston Smith in George Orwell's "1984" and Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye."
The Everyman: The everyman is a relatable character who represents the average person and often serves as the protagonist in a story. Examples of everymen include Bilbo Baggins in "The Hobbit" and Winston Smith in "1984."
The Wise Fool: The wise fool is often portrayed as someone who appears to be simple-minded, foolish, or even insane, but who possesses insights and wisdom that are not immediately apparent to others. Examples of the wise fools include the protagonist in "Diary of a Madman" and Yorick in "Tristram Shandy".
The preceding list outlines the typical character archetypes found in literature. Can you determine which archetype best fits your characters?
If you want to read more about The Wise Fool archetype, click here: The Wise Fool - Who is that?
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the-modern-typewriter · 8 months
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Do you have any advice on writing a truly scary villain?? How do I make them genuinely terrifying but also still realistically human y’know?
The short answer is 'be specific', think about all the ways that humans can be scary, and show how the villain is scary/human by the story stakes/other character's reactions to them.
The longer, more rambling, answer is...
Whenever I think about villains, and a lot of the study that goes into villains/monsters, I think about the idea of either the Self or the Other.
Villain as Self:
The self is the us, in 'us vs them'. It is what we recognise within ourselves when we look at and explore villains.
This often comes with a realistically human motivation. For example, it could be that the villain is motivated by greed, recognition or desire for power or control (flaws that many of us have) or fear, desire to protect ourselves/our loved ones (good qualities that many of us have that become warped) and all these motivations ultimately lead the villain to do awful thing. We don't think we'd do the bad thing ourselves, but there is an uneasy terror in recognising that actually we might.
Alternatively, it is the villain who is well-respected and loved. The person we trust. The person we feel safe with. Except, we're not safe. And we can't tell, because we think they're just like us, and in many ways they are, and that's horrifying.
This kind of villain is always the dark side of our own society, our own assumptions and ideologies and belief systems. They are very popular at the moment.
We as a people are deeply uneasy with our own monstrosity.
Villain as Other
The 'other' is the 'them'. It's the fear that many of us still have with what is different to us, or what we don't understand or know.
This is the villain that is the random stranger, not secretly your best friend. It's, historically speaking looking at literary canon, the cannibal savages in different cultures. It's aliens. It's monsters where the scary thing is that they have no humanity, nothing we can reason with, a morality that is completely different to ours etc.
We as a people are still deeply uneasy about what we don't understand, even if many of us are trying to be better about it.
Some villains are a mixture of the two, but broadly speaking, you're considering the Villain as Self vibe of villain. I mention both because I find it interesting, and because our ideas of otherness are so often tied with our ideas of monstrosity that I can't not!
Scary nowadays often looks very much like someone persecuting what is considered 'other' or 'different'.
What is actually scary?
The first part of writing a genuinely scary villain is tapping into something that is genuinely scary.
While the vague can work, when it comes to villains that are realistically human, specificity is your friend. We understand these people, or at the very least we know and recognise them. And it's not a broad threat of 'end of the world' that tends to scare us most, it's much more personal.
We don't want to get hurt. We don't want to lose someone we love. We are scared when we realise we completely misjudged a person we trusted. We are scared when we see someone do something terrible and have a gut lurching feeling that, in their circumstances, we might do the same thing because we absolutely recognise the feeling and the motivation. We are scared when we see villains who persecute people just like us, because we know there's an uncomfortable sliver of truth to it.
Story stakes
All the above bit is all to do with your character understanding and construction. The internal bit. The premise of your character.
Story stakes is external and how you apply your character in your story. In short - if there is clearly no chance of your villain ever winning, and nothing bad ever happens and you just tell people that they are scary, the reader has no reason to believe you.
Have other characters react in terror to your villain. Have the villain's actions and goals have consequences in the story. They must be a genuine threat within the story world, even if they lose in the end. I hope this helps!
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yandere-daydreams · 11 days
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I read your monster-fucking presentation and my contrary little heart immediately asked, “Why’s the monster gotta be an outcast?  What if I’m the outcast in some sort of alien society or something?”  Then I realized – I’m the monster in that scenario, which was actually quite flattering?  Huge ego boost to be so hot a member of a species that’s not even generally into three-dimensional meat-beings still wants you specifically. Like, cannot be bothered to take a form the human brain can fully comprehend but still dtf.
YOU GET IT ANON!!!!
i generally don't think there's a big enough distinction between a monster and a non-human creature, mostly bc (in my correct opinion) there really does have to be like,,, something that actually makes the character a monster, i think? they don't have to necessarily be dangerous, but enough people have to think they're dangerous enough to treat them like, y'know,,,, a monster. it's the social ostracization that makes the monsters so sexy methinks. and the teeth.
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literary-illuminati · 4 months
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Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis
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I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.
Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).
So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).
Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).
There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.
The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.
I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.
Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.
Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.
Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!
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misscryptidart · 8 months
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No but actually make me a WWDITS (union) writer because the relationship and social aspects of humans VS vampires is so fucking interesting.
Like, I know the meme of the Baron choose drama over violence in his confrontation with Guillermo, but the side conversation between the two, "vampire to vampire", immediately reads as a different level of intimacy and familiarity that the baron had not shown to Guillermo prior. The respect between the two, the frankness the Baron gives Guillermo, they are portrayed as equals. Perhaps not friends, but equals.
The relationship between familiar and vampire is also displayed in a new context. Nadja, as soon as she found out that Guillermo was turned, immediately began to correct Guillermo's behavior and teach him what little she could ("You can't treat your master like that. That connection is sacred. If he gets killed, you get killed. You treat him with respect."). Being a familiar is not only serving your master, but building that connection with your eventual sire. Its the time where the master is supposed to be preparing their familiar for the complex and nuanced life of vampirism, easing the transition for not only the new fledging but also the risk the sire is taking. To have another vampire, one who has not groomed and taken care of the familiar, turn them is a clear violation of the expectations of the master role. Nandor, by the social contracts of vampirism, was the one to "train" and "prepare" Guillermo for his introduction to the un-living. Derik took that connection and ruined it. No wonder he was so fucking pissed.
I think it lends itself well to the reality that vampires and humans are not equals. Humans live short lives and have a limited world experience, but they are dangerous and clever. Vampires have the gift of endless possibilities and power unlike any others, but they are reliant on the humans for food and must navigate a world that actively works against their nature. Of course they see humanity as "the others", ones who can't ever possibly understand what it means to be a vampire. Of course they are going to be incredibly cautious when allowing one into their world. The running gag of familiars never actually being turned makes a lot more sense when you put in the perspective that vampires are incredibly protective of themselves and those of their inner circle. It also explains why they are so willing to disregard or kill their familiars. They can't understand what it means to be a vampire. They will die anyways. Who cares?
The Staten Island Vampires stand out so distinctly because they choose to integrate themselves into human society earnestly, eager to explore and learn about their neighbors. Not in a malicious manner, such as a wolf in sheep's clothing, but as a genuine "Hey, I'm here. I want to experience this. I want to be apart of this."
Very rarely in vampire media, in my opinion, does it show the vampires attempting to live their lives interwoven with humanity like WWDITS does. Even Twilight, the most modern adaptation of a vampiric story, has the Cullen's act alien and disinterested in the world around them. But the Staten Island Vampires are involved! Laszlo hangs out with Sean with no intentions of feeding from him, Nandor goes to the gym and movies and actively seeks new friendships, Nadja connects with her roots and visits Little Antipaxos! They are people living in a world of other people, and the world feels so full because of that.
I love monsters and mythology and folklore and terrible little creatures so goddamn much
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lord-of-the-prompts · 2 years
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A-Z ALTERNATE UNIVERSE IDEAS:
A
afterlife
alien invasion
all female
all human
alpha/beta/omega dynamics
always a different gender/sex
amnesia
ancient era
angels & demons
animal shelter
another world
antique shop
apocalypse
army
arranged marriage
artists
art school
asgard
assassins & hitmen
atlantis
B
babysitters
bakery
ballet
blind date
boarding school
bodyswap
bookstore
bounty hunters
boxers
boy band
british
C
celebrity
character/actor swap
christmas
circus
civil war
coffee shops/cafes
college
cowboys & aliens
covid 19 pandemic
creatures & monsters
crime
criminals
cults
D
dance battle
dark fantasy
detective partners
different first meeting
different powers
dragon age
dungeons & dragons
dystopian
E
elfland
enemies to friends to lovers
everyone lives/nobody dies
F
faerie
fairytale
fake dating
fake relationship
fandom fusion
fans & fandom
fantasy
farm/ranch
firefighters
fix-it
flower shop
foster family
futuristic society
G
gangster
gang world
genderbending
genderswap
genie/djinn
ghost hunters
gladiators
gods & goddesses
gothic
guardian angel
H
harry potter and 1400s witch trials
heaven & hell
hollywood
horse racing
highschool
historical
hogwarts
homless
hospital
hunger games arena
I
ice skating/ice dancers
immortal
J
journalism
K
kings & queens
k-pop
L
laboratory
lawers
lifeguards
law enforcement
M
mafia
magic
magical creatures
medical
medieval fantasy
merepeople
military
mob
model/photographer
modern setting
monster hunters
mortal
muggle
mutants
multiverse
murder mystery
mythology
N
navy
neighbours
never met
ninjas
noir
noir detective
non-famous
non-magical
non-mutant
no powers
not related
no time travel
O
office
olympus
online dating
ordinary people
orphanage
P
paramedics
perspective change
pirate
podcast hosts
pompeii
powerswap
post-apocalyptic
prison ecsape
prom
psycics
Q
quest
quidditch
R
radioshow hosts
reincarnation
renaissance
restaurant
road trip
roaring twenties
robot uprising
rock star
roller derby
role swap/reversal
roommates
royalty
S
scientists
shakespeare
shapeshifter
siblings
shipwreck
single parent
snowed in
soulmates
space
spies & secret agents
spirits
spy
spyfi
steampunk
summer camp
sun flairs
superhero
supernatural
supernatural elements
T
tattoo parlour
theatre
thieves
time loops
time travel
trojan war setting
twins
U
urban fantasy
university
V
valhalla
vampire slayer
vegas
victorian era
video game world
vigilante
vikings
W
wedding planners
werecreatures
werewolf
western
witchcraft
world war i/world war ii
wormhole
Y
youtubers
Z
zombie apocalypse
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