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slut4thebroken · 2 months

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Needs

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary | Tommy’s been so busy with work that he’s been neglecting your needs… So you come up with a plan to finally get some attention.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, rough sex, spanking, creampie, degradation, humiliation, praise, brat taming, gunplay, established relationship.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | I feel like I still don’t really have his characterization down tbh :/ oh well😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Smut prompts 4. "what would they think if they saw you right now?" 36. “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” 48. “no panties. you need me that bad?” 50. “i bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home” 52. “you keep acting like a brat and i’ll take you over my knee right here. i don’t care how many people are watching” 75. "You wanted this. You can take it."

This definitely was not your proudest moment… but you’re pent up and Tommy has been too busy to take care of you for almost two weeks now. You’re desperately craving some rough, hard fucking. And you know exactly how to get it.

Placing your hand on the man’s bicep, you laughed along with his “joke” and glanced at Tommy from across the room. He still hadn’t noticed you yet and you prayed he would soon because you’ve never met a man more bland and boring than the one in front of you. He’s also either completely stupid, or just doesn’t know that you’re with Tommy since he’s openly flirting with you.

“You know, you truly are very beautiful.” He said, the joking tone now completely gone.

“Oh- thank you..” You smiled, trying not to cringe.

“May I dance with you?” You glanced at Tommy again— still nothing.

“Sure.” He led you over to the center of the room and grabbed your hand, placing his other hand on your back, far too low. He started up another conversation and all you could do was nod or hum in agreement, too focused on looking at Tommy every chance you had.

When you finally, finally met his gaze.. you immediately recognized his expression. You forced your eyes back on the man in front of you and smiled, trusting that Tommy would be over here any second now.

“Hello, darling.” You stopped and tried not to smirk as you turned around. Tommy was looking between you and the man who quickly let go of you and stepped back.

“Mr. Shelby.” He greeted, giving an awkward smile. He looked between the two of you and seemed to suddenly understand the situation. His smile slowly dropped as he took another step back. “I- I’m going to..”

“Yeah, you do that.” Tommy sneered, waiting until the man scurried away before turning to you. He didn’t bother asking before grabbing your hand and pulling you into him by your lower back.

“I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you…” He murmured, making you smile a little. “We’ll see how cute you look later when we’re home.”

“We were just dancing.” You said, in a tone that implied that you weren’t just dancing.

“Right.” He scoffed.

“There’s no need to get insecure, Tommy.” You said innocently, watching as his cheeks tensed when he clenched his jaw. His piercing blue eyes practically stared through you and if it were anyone else, they would’ve backed down immediately.

“You keep acting like a brat and I'll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.” He spoke in a low, menacing voice, making your stomach flutter.

“Really? You’re not too busy for that?” You snarked and his expression shifted into one of realization, then amusement.

“Is that what this is about? My girl is a bit needy so she turns into a whore?” As soon as he started teasing, you knew you had to do more for this plan to actually work.

“Screw you.” You spat, pushing him back by his chest. His eyes darkened and without paying any attention to the people who were now watching this encounter, he grabbed your wrist and started dragging you somewhere. “Let go!” You tried yanking yourself free, but his grip wouldn’t budge. He pulled you through a few hallways until you reached the kitchen, then shoved you into the room and slammed the door shut.

“Quit it. I won’t tell you again.” He warned.

“I didn’t even do anything! You’re the one who made a scene and dragged me away from the party.”

“Oh, I made a scene?” He chuckled and you clenched your jaw, letting out a heavy breath through your nose. “Does no cock for less than two weeks really turn you into a complete brat?” He was still so fucking amused, so you shoved his chest again. He suddenly gripped your neck and pushed you back a few steps until you hit the counter. “I said quit it.” He growled, tightening his grip on your neck.

“Fucking make me, Thomas.” You spat, purposefully using his full name.

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter right now… Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh, are you? Do you even have time for that?” You don’t think you’ve ever sounded more bratty before in your life.

“Fine. You want to be fucked?” He quickly spun you around and pushed your chest down onto the counter, then bunched your dress up, letting it rest on your back. “Really, no panties? You need it that bad?” He snickered, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You don’t regret your decision to go without them though.

The sound of clothes rustling as he opened his pants had you squeezing your thighs together, eager for what was to come. Without any warning he fully sheathed himself inside you, making you cry out and scramble for purchase on the counter.

“Fuck! Tommy— what the hell?” He didn’t even give you a second to adjust before starting a brutal pace. Grabbing your hips tight enough to bruise, he bucked into you wildly with little care for your own pleasure. But for some pathetic reason that only made all of this hotter. “God- Tommy, slow down.” You whined, trying to squirm away.

“You wanted this. You can take it." He gruffed, letting out quiet grunts now. Honestly, you’ve been a little horny since the moment you decided not to wear any underwear, but it’s been longer than usual since he’s been inside you and he didn’t do anything else to prep you, so the stretch burned a little. It was quickly turning into overwhelming pleasure though. When you reached a hand down to rub your clit, he twisted your arm behind your back almost painfully.

“Brats don’t get to touch. You’ll be lucky if I decide to let you come at all.” You cursed under your breath and closed your eyes, only getting more worked up by his words and the way he said them.

“Fine. When we’re done, we’ll go back out there and I’ll tell everyone about how Tommy Shelby can’t make a girl come.” You snarked. He pulled out with a low growl, making you smirk a little. You watched him walk across the kitchen, opening and closing drawers quickly. When he picked up a wooden spoon and started walking back over, you smirk dropped and you lifted yourself off the counter. “Tommy… Not here.” You warned, stepping away from him when he approached.

“Get the fuck over the counter or I’ll make you.” When you didn’t move, he unholstered his gun and pointed it at you lazily. “Now.” Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly, glancing between the weapon, the spoon, and his face. Even though you knew he’d never actually shoot you, the fear was still there. So you tentatively walked back over and leaned on the counter again. He lifted your dress, then immediately resumed fucking you, dragging the spoon over your ass to make you tense up.

“I have responsibilities other than satisfying your needs.” He started, placing a firm smack on your ass with the spoon, making you curse loudly. “I run a business,” another smack, this one even harder, “I have a family…” The third hit brought tears to your eyes. “You are not my only priority, you understand?” You whimpered at the fourth smack, but even through all of this, he never stopped fucking you.

“Answer me.” He growled, and this hit forced a choked sob out of you.

“Yes! I- I understand.” You cried, clinging to the counter to ground yourself a little.

“Your libido is inconsequential,” He continued, landing another hit on your already burning ass, “and I will not tolerate my woman acting like a whore because of it.”

“Tommy..” You whimpered pathetically.

“Do you have anything you want to say for yourself?” He spanked you twice in quick succession and you let your head fall onto the counter as a tear finally escaped your waterline.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed out, only crying harder when he hit you again.

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” You whimpered.

“Last fucking chance.” He spat, spanking you again.

“I’m sorry for… acting like a whore.” You choked out and he landed one more hit on each cheek before dropping the spoon onto the counter.

“There you go.” He cooed, rapidly snapping his hips into you, adding more pain to your already burning ass. “What would they think if they saw you right now?" He asked amusedly and you whined as your cheeks heated up. “Bent over some random rich asshole’s kitchen counter, getting spanked and fucked stupid…”

“Tommy…” You whimpered, voice barely audible. Your hips were digging into the edge of the counter painfully and your legs were trembling from the intensity of the pain and pleasure. With each thrust, his balls were smacking your clit, teasing you with the slightest amount of touch where you really needed it.

“From now on, when this cunt is needy, you come to me before whoring yourself around, got it?” You nodded desperately, feeling so close to pleasure that was just out of reach.

“Yes— yes.” You choked out. “Please, Tommy, I can’t take this.” Your voice was a weak whimper and you hoped it’d be enough to get him to cave.

“Do you need to come, darling?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown a little.

“Yes! Please make me come,”

“You can come. But you’re not using your hands.” He said cruelly.

“Tommy, please..” You whined, needing more. You knew he wouldn’t give it to you though.

“Better hurry too cause I’m getting close.” He chuckled quietly, obviously enjoying your suffering.

“I can’t! Please!” You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve been able to come from penetration alone.

“Do you need help, my love?” He asked softly, voice contrasting his actions as he fisted your hair and yanked your body up until your back was against his chest. The cold barrel of his gun dragged down your cheek, making you stiffen and close your eyes with a strangled whimper. “Is this better?” You let out a choked sob even though, yes, it was helping you get closer to the edge. “You’re trembling… Like a little lamb.” He murmured against your ear, sounding uncharacteristically endeared.

“Tommy..” You whispered, unconsciously flinching away from the gun.

“Are you scared?” He whispered back and you just barely nodded in response. “Good girl. I like you like this.” He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and you mewled, feeling your orgasm barreling toward you. He never stopped thrusting, but based on his breathing and the quiet sounds he was making, you knew he was close. Which meant that if you wanted to come, you had to do it now. His lips moved down to your neck and began kissing and licking the sensitive skin, occasionally sucking it into his mouth to leave a mark.

“Come on, love. Drench my fucking cock, I know you can do it.” The gun brushed over your trembling lips teasingly. “This cunt isn't useful to me if it can’t come.” The degrading words forced a strangled moan out of you. When he cocked the gun, your body immediately went completely rigid. “If it’s not useful, then I don’t need it...” He said coyly and you whimpered in response, feeling so incredibly close to release.

“So be a good toy and let that cunt show me why I should keep you around.” That was all you needed to finally fall over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and your whole body tensed up, then started almost shaking as all of the tension was finally released. This was your first orgasm in almost two weeks and it had you struggling to breathe properly and keep yourself up with the way your legs were beginning to feel like jelly.

“Good girl.. I got you.” He cooed, holding you in his arms but never faltering in the movements of his hips. “Let it all out, darling.”

“Tommy.” You whimpered through all of the moaning.

“I know. I know, love.” He whispered, holding you tightly. “Ready for my come?” His words made another strong wave of pleasure roll through you and you were mumbling out incoherent pleas before you could stop yourself. You probably missed the feeling of him coming inside you the most out of everything.

Without another word, his hips stuttered, then he bottomed out, pushing you almost painfully into the edge of the counter with a low groan. You whined at the faint feeling of his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with his come. He was grunting quietly, his breathing growing ragged and fanning your neck, getting you worked up again. But he was done far too soon.

Panting quietly, he set his gun down on the counter, then kissed the crook of your neck, filling your stomach with butterflies. You loved his soft moments like this, especially after how rough and mean he was being.

“Good girl…” He whispered. “So good for me.” Your cheeks heated up at the praise.

“Don’t let me go, I’ll fall.” You warned quietly and he released of soft chuckle in response.

“Lean over the counter, darling.” He murmured, giving one last kiss on your neck before letting you lean back down, resting most of your weight on it. He dragged out slowly, making both of you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck… I missed seeing this.” He groaned, enjoying the sight of your walls wrapped around his length.

You whimpered in pain when he grabbed your sore ass and pulled you open to get a better view of your fluttering holes and his come leaking out. At the first sight of it though, he kicked your legs together, making it drip down your thighs instead.

“Tommy...” You whined and he gave a teasing slap to your ass as he let out a half hearted chuckle, then pulled your dress back down.

“Try not to leak all over the floor, love. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to explain that.”

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#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

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angelbarelywrites · 21 days

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♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed (part two)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; heavily suggestive content, implied smut, unhealthy power dynamics, references to stalking and kidnapping, violence

♡ notes; still kind of figuring out characterization for Jason and Danny tbh

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> mama always taught him that sharing a bed with someone was wrong

> it could so easily lead to sinning! and the woods tended to be humid anyway, so it’d get sticky and sweaty

> but Jason likes keeping you close, very close

> the only time he’s not by your side is when he’s “working”

> and even then he’ll check up on you throughout the evening

> one day you get worried, though

> he’s usually back by the time you’re about to go to sleep- he drinks tea with you and usually cuddles for a bit even though he’s convinced staying would be bad

> on this night, the tea is getting cold, and you’re getting grumpy, so you step outside to call for him

> it’s just a moment- a split second that you feel a hand on your shoulder- too small to be Jason

> then there’s a sickening squelch, a scream, and a couple more wet thumps and groans before silence

> you don’t need to turn to know what happened, instead letting Jason come to you (he doesn’t like seeing you sad from his messes- and you don’t like seeing them period)

> he’s got the blood of the man who touched you splattered all over you but you just frown softly “…it’s bedtime.”

> he wordlessly nods and scoops you up quickly, seeming scared that you were somehow hurt

> you quietly reassure him but he gets you the tea and pets your hair until he’s satisfied you’re okay

> you relish in the affection and get an idea

> “Jason baby? can you sleep in my bed? just tonight?”

> you can tell he mulls it over a long while before he nods

> he looks comically large in your bed, holding your teddy bear for you while you change into pajamas

> you let him be the little spoon, wrapping around him happily

> surely something this comfy can’t be wrong, he decides and falls asleep peacefully

> but when he wakes up, holding your soft, barely clothed form tight against him…he realizes he doesn’t care what’s wrong and right when it comes to you

> because you make him want to do all of the things mama said not to - and he just loves making you happy

Bo Sinclair

> you like your personal space- that’s something you made clear when you started living there

> back then you were still a victim, but the point stands

> so once they trusted you you got your own little room and let you decorate

> and you like your arrangement. you have your bed, your boyfriend has his, and you don’t ever sleep in the other’s on purpose

> why would you want to sleep next to Bo anyways? he snores, he’s always splayed out in weird positions and he sweats like a motherfucker

> maybe it had to do with the way you can always hear him screaming when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

> or how it stings whenever he leaves after you fuck, even though you never really ask him to stay

> okay, fuck it. you love the idiot and you want to sleep next to him.

> that shouldn’t be too hard to say

> except it is, because your stubbornness is almost as legendary as Bo’s

> you’re still actively putting it off when you manage to sprain your ankle in the house

> after thanking Vincent for patching you up, you spend the afternoon in the living room, sulking as you wait for Bo

> you know it’s not his fault you slipped, but you’re irrationally mad at him and getting worse the later that he is

> you can tell Vincent got to him first because he’s already frowning when he walks in to the living room close to midnight

> “what happened to you, little darlin?”

> your anger immediately melts away and you give a pathetic little pout as he hugs you tight, cursing for not checking in

> he babies you throughly and eventually takes you to your room

> he’s giving you a goodnight kiss when you grab his sleeve

> “…stay?”

> he can’t hide his smug smile

> “…you want me to?”

> you grumble but he’s happy to strip to his boxers, whistling

> “what’re you so smug for?”

> “you finally asked me to stay.”

> “…well duh.”

> he falls asleep with your whole body laid on top of him, hand lazily stroking your hair

> for once he doesn’t have any night terrors, and he’s grateful

> so grateful in fact, he’d like to repay you..

Billy Lenz

> you don’t love the idea of billy spending the night

> it’s not that you don’t love him, or being around him. he’s your boyfriend, of course you like his company

> it’s just that the sorority girls don’t have the greatest track record of giving you privacy

> they don’t cross boundaries, or enter without knocking- you lock the door anyways

> but they like you enough that usually they’re knocking on your door by eight, inviting you on a shopping trip or to breakfast or even asking for help studying

> it can be stifling, but it’s sweet, and it’s not like they’ll know you have a guest. they’d be more courteous if you could tell them

> and there’s the second reason, the one you can’t tell Billy

> you know the walls are paper thin, and you know just as well he’d take that as a challenge

> but it’s spring break, and only a couple of students are still about

> so you quite casually ask him if he’d like to stay the night

> you’ve never seen this man smile wider in your entire time with him

> and he’s surprisingly PG as you make plans

> he’s excited to eat popcorn and get his nails done and cuddle - you paint his hails black and get the snacks ready

> you rent a horror movie for the occasion, and he’s giggling the whole way through it

> he thinks it’s just adorable that you get so scared, hiding your face against him

> “Billy’s pretty baby is so silly- maybe he should distract his baby….-“

> luckily, you’re able to turn being as quiet as possible into a game when you mention how sound carries through the house

> and he’s ecstatic when he gets to stay next to you, tangled in the sheets and clinging to you for dear life

Danny Johnson

> you’ve never been to his place

> he started as a stalker, so it seemed natural he’d just keep going over to your apartment

> and since he’s always busy with the paper, and continuing his current murder spree…

> well most nights you just let him go, and when you don’t you wake up alone

> but on a particularly boring evening you decide to reverse the roles just a bit

> you figured out his address some time ago- and you picked up a thing or two about picking locks from dating Danny

> so it’s not a problem getting into his penthouse and making yourself comfortable

> you make sure to send a vague text that you knew he’d be able to figure out

> after all actually being sneaky around Danny was probably dangerous- you’re about the only person he wouldn’t stab on site

> you can’t help your huge grin when he stalks into his bedroom

> he’s acting pissy but you see the way his eyes survey your nearly bare body

> “You little brat…”

> he’s the fun kind of angry

> after a through lesson in asking permission you shower and collapse into bed together

> you cuddle close and fall asleep in his arms as he traces all your new bite marks and bruises

> he seems to get the message about staying - when you wake up it’s to him kissing your neck and purring your name

> apparently he didn’t finish last night’s ‘lesson’…and he’s eager to continue

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s eager for you to spend the night, in all honesty

> he likes being in control, utterly and completely

> if he had it his way, you’d move in within the month

> but even though you’ve brought a bag, and are all pj-ed up, he’s distracted

> maybe the one thing that can distract him from you is work- he’s a perfectionist

> and he doesn’t have to prove himself to you like he does clientele and state boards, and practically everyone else

> “y’know you said ten minutes ten minutes ago.”

> “yes my darling- i’ll be there shortly, just- go lay down-“

> you roll your eyes and instead stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and beginning to kiss his neck

> he tries his damndest to keep focused

> “…if you don’t come soon, i won’t be awake enough to help you…unwind,”

> that gets him up- you 1, work 0

> you’re surprised when after you’ve both gotten nice and relaxed, he pulls you flush

> usually you have to ask for affection

> but he spoons you, face buried in your hair as he dozes off

371 notes · View notes

ratrrriot · 11 months

Note

How do you feel when people call Amy a stalker?

People can call her what they want, however…

Do i think it's fair to call Amy a stalker?

In some of the games? Yes, and even in some of the ones she wasn't a stalker per-se, she still showed possessive and obsessive tendencies. So i get where it comes from...

Generally? No. Her character originally wasn't supposed to be a harasser and she sure isn't one in the present. the franchise has been clearly trying to do better for her these past few years.

I think Amy's changing characterization is an interesting topic of discussion, so even though i technically already answered your question i'll take this chance and proceed to talk about my fave for way longer than i need to :).

Note: This is just my take on Amy and the way i understand her ENGLISH PORTRAYAL. I won't be talking about her japanese one which would deserve its own analysis.

Sorry for any writing mistakes in advance (english is hard) and feel free to correct me if i'm factually wrong about something (i wrote this thing mostly from memory so i imagine i must be.)

Amy has changed A LOT troughout the games and has been in the hands of many different writers across Sonic media ,so when talking about her is important to be specific about what game,series or comic we are talking about (and language),and while i know that some of you might not agree and i respect that, i think that -looking at the subtleties- Amy has had at least 6 different portrayals through the course of the games. That being said,i believe the idea that she is a stalker comes especifically from the characterization they started giving her around 2003

Originally,Amy was envisioned as a sweet 12-year-old kid who had a huge unreciprocated crush on her idol and a passion for fortune-reading ,but who wasn't exactly much of a heroine herself. In the classic era,her place in the narrative was just to serve as a damsel in distress and a cute,funny detail. Ofc,in comics and animated shorts for games like Origins, we have gotten more content of classic Amy being fully independent and capable of defending herself (even more with the upcoming playable mode for her in Origins Plus), but i think we can all see how such aspects of her character weren’t included at the time she was created (only exception being Sonic Fighters)

Especifically in the adventure era (AKA the birth of modern Amy) they gave Amy her iconic strong,compassionate,romantic personality and an interest/love for adventure (and her sassy attitude ofc). She's outspoken,stubborn,brave and honest. I also want to point out that in this first portrayal ,her love for Sonic feels more like innocent childish idolization than an obsession and that her character doesn't revolve exclusively around it (she will stand in his way if she doesn't think what he does is right). Tbh i think she's incredibly funny,cool and lovable,

They slowly started planting the seeds for her character to stop being a "damsel in distress" by making her playable and defeat ZERO all on her own at the end of SA1,then also being playable in Sonic advance and helping Sonic get out of prison in SA2 (and tagging along for the rest of the adventure). In all these games,her character revolves around empathy,optimism and kindness. The way she protects the flicky since the moment she finds it,how she defends Gamma from Sonic and the iconic moment in SA2 where she convinces Shadow to help save earth are all great examples.

THEN, in Heroes , they decided to try something new with her taking her confidence and sassy attitude to a whole other level. Giving her the chance to be a fully-fleshed hero who didn't need rescuing anymore. She became independent and the leader of her own team of friends who she wanted to help. I love this Amy cause she feels really strong,determined and empowered without losing her peppiness,silliness,positivity and kindness. Her flaws are also especially endearing to me: How much of a wild kid she is,How even if she means well, she relies way too much in brute force, How she has trouble getting out of her own head, etc. She really feels just as confident and energic as Sonic,but just like him,you can tell she has a huge heart.

HOWEVER, as much as i love how they made her strength and bravery shine in this game, Heroes was the game that gave birth to the idea that Amy is willing to chase and even fight Sonic just to insist that they should marry (in SA2 she did follow him to the prison but it was only to help him and tag along in the adventure).

Ofc this was supposed to be comedic and to be seen as childish,harmless behavior- I say this because the rest of the characters,including Sonic himself,don't seem to take it seriously- but what was supposed to be seen as an endearing flaw at the time, would rapidly mute into what's probably Amy's worst portrayal ,as the writers turned it into harassment for the next mainline games (Ignoring Shadow the hedgehog where she is the same as in heroes and only has a brief appearance.)

Before i go into Battle,i just want to say that the definition of stalker according to google is “a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention.” A definition that definitely did not apply to her before Heroes,but that i can't deny that does apply to Amy for the next few games:

In Battle, Amy is suddenly written as aggresive and self-centered. All her compassion and empathy from the adventure era is gone, intimidating people (even Cream) and demanding information from them from the get-go. Of course she does a few good things throughout the game too,like take care of Emerl and such,but she still mainly uses him for her benefit (calories counter and emerald radar). Right off the bat,at the start of her storyline she insists on searching for Sonic even when she herself assumes he is hiding from her -which implies she knows what she's doing is worth hiding for- and tries to justify her behavior by saying that Sonic actually loves her and that he is being “ just shy “ or that “ he got cold feet”- while others characters react in a way that implies that's obviously not the case and that her behavior is worrysome..

I think it's important to mention that before Battle, we hadn’t gotten a single line of dialogue that implied that Amy tought that her behavior could be hurtful for Sonic, nor did she ever threaten anyone at all unless it was self defense. She knew he didn’t reciprocate her feelings and was actively trying to make him fall for her anyways,sure, but we gotta remember that while the canon ages might have been scrapped recently, at the time Modern Amy was created they were still very much canon and you can tell they had them in mind when writing these characters. Amy was supposed to be 12 ,so it makes sense that she didn't understand why Sonic wouldn’t accept her affection. She idolized him and misinterpreted the fact that he always was protecting her as possible romantic interest,but never actually imposed anything on him. The worst thing she ever did to him was wanting to hug him without consent,and again, the games implied that she clearly didn't realize such a thing wasn't ok. Sonic also didn't seem to want to hurt her feelings so while he did run away and expressed being annoyed by her he never explicitly told her to stop. I actually think that if he had sat her down and made it clear to her that what she was doing was truly bothering him, The Amy from the adventure era would have stopped, but i doubt he cared enough to do that honestly (after all ,in his recap screens it is implied that what truly bothers him about Amy being near him is not her crush,but that he thinks shes exposed to danger.)

BUT in Battle and for the next three games,Amy doesn’t seem to be written as a 12-year-old who mistakes admiration for love anymore. This is where the writers started to portray her as someone who is clearly still young and definitely childish but not innocent. Her whole character revolves around harassing Sonic and using her strength to intimidate others, and don't get me wrong,I like that Amy gets angry easily!! i like that she isn't afraid of a fight,that she complains a lot, and that she isn't peaceful. After all,those are important parts of who she is. But Battle!Amy is on a whole other level: she gets mad at her friends just because they don't agree with everything she does or says. It's not about having a strong personality anymore,she's just generally aggressive. For the next few games she and Sonic can't have one normal conversation that isn't Amy imposing her own wishes over him and him trying to get away from her, so it's hard to believe she wouldn't realize that what's she's doing is wrong nor accidental as we were supposed to before. This time It just feels like she is deciding to ignore the signs.

This continued in advance 3 ,where she literally threatens him with her hammer just cause he shows signs of not being interested in spending time with her when they meet, Then in rush she becomes possesive and jealous the second he mentions Blaze and also seems to treathen him with the hammer in the credits scene because he is running from her hug.

They changed the direction of her characterization again after Rush. The best way i can describe the Amy that is present in Riders,06,etc is one that has two very polarized sides to her personality. On one side,she is a peppy,sweet,over enthusiastic and romantic girl, on the other she is a pretty intimidating one with an obsession with Sonic and very fiery temper. However,contrary to her last portrayal,she is more polite and actually asks Sonic if she can come with him various times,doesn't harass him and doesn't threaten people simply cause they don't agree with her anymore, but she still doesn't seem to have any sense of boundaries,still follows Sonic without permission sometimes and still clearly has no consideration for his personal space. Another thing about this Amy is how her flirting is really intense, and even if she isn't as aggressive as the Amy from Battle,if someone messes a bit with her she doesn't hesitate to resort to intimidation or take her hammer out.

She still gets violent towards Sonic sometimes,but what's different from her last characterization is that instead of doing so merely because he doesn't show romantic interest in her ,its mostly because he doesn't follow on his promises (end of Black Knight) or shows up to save her “properly” (Referring to 1- that scene in Riders where he blows eggman -who had caught Amy- away with wind and she chases him with her hammer because “how could he not think that would hit her too “ and 2- the one in Zero Gravity where he arrives late to save her and she playfully throws him a few fists saying that “it took him long enough!”). I don't think she's necesarily right to do that but i don't consider it to be problematic either, since by that point the games had strongly implied that there was a non-spoken agreement between the two that he'll always show up to save her and the whole thing feels more playful than anything else. Mostly because Sonic seems to be fine with her being around again, as he never really denies her acussations or runs away when she gets mad,and even tries to explain himself to her.

So yeah,this Amy is one of the more famous -and infamous- ones,as her negative and positive qualities are more balanced than the one from Battle. However,i personally don't like her much as there's almost no focus on the empathetic/compassionate side of her character that was so prominent in the adventure era and ,even if i wouldn’t call this version of her a Stalker , she's still is way too obsessive and possesive for my liking. The writing for her character is still pretty much completely based on being attracted to Sonic, to the point that In 06 she tells Silver that, if she had to, she'd “choose Sonic over the world".

In Sonic Chronicles , Amy gets a lot of dialogue. She gets jealous in a scene but its not as bad as in Rush and she tries to make Sonic jealous by inventing a fake boyfriend (terrible trope) but her levels of aggressiveness are up to the player's treatment of her. I am ,however , mentioning this game because of a scene in specific near the final section in which Amy is scared they might die and aks Sonic if she can have a moment with him. She then tries to have a serious conversation and politely asks if he cares about her or if he likes her at all. if the player chooses to make Sonic say he does care for her she is legitimately surprised and thankful. Idk what happens If he rejects her cause i haven't been able to find any recordings of that and i never owned this game,but i'll assume that her reaction won't be too bad considering she is asking in the first place(?) feel free to tell me if you know…

This portrayal of Amy is still present in Unleashed (2008) ,in which Amy is there to cheer/support Sonic on throughout the game and to serve as an important indicator that Sonic is quite self conscious of his looks when he's a werehog. She is generally very sweet towards him in this game (especially when she shows no rejection towards his werehog form,which is a detail i adore), even if she does get annoyed when he doesn't pay as much attention to her as he does to Chip or reciprocate her feelings.

A good example is how, before the last temple ,she asks him if he'd like to go on a date with her after everything is over. If you choose the positive dialogue option she is ,again, positively surprised and thankful. If you make him say no she complains about how he's being mean, but doesn't insist on it and just accepts it.

In Free Riders (2010) ,Amy just generally acts extremely out out of character (like,she doesn't even fit into Battle's portrayal). It really feels like someone who didn't know anything about the character wrote her, so for the sake of the pink hedgie let's ignore it and go back to talking about portrayal 4.

I already mentioned her brief apparition in Black Night and there's nothing worth mentioning about her in Generations so i'll skip them.

This portrayal ended in Lost World (2013),In which they toned down Amy as a character in general,leaving out all of her flaws and iconic traits out. She feels plain and her strong personality,confidence,sass,energy,etc all seem to be completely gone. She's just sweet and that's it . For some reason there's a scene where she literally tries to confess to Sonic and is cut off before she can finish,which is very funny considering it had never been treated as a secret before??? it really goes to show how hard they were trying to pull some kind of reboot on her. Fortunately,this characterization was only a two-game-thing (She is just as plain in Forces (2015)) so i'll put it in the same bag as the Free riders one and we'll leave it at that.

After Lost world came Boom (2014) ,and then we got the most recent change of Amy's personality,which we all know has had a mixed reception from the fandom. Originally people thought that this Amy would stay just in the Boom universe ,but this personality has been showing up in the mainline games for a while now,like in Team Sonic Racing (2019) and Frontiers (2021).

This Amy feels older than any of the ones that came before her. She kept the sass,the love for romanticism,the positive attitude,the confidence and the strenght but her bad temper and over enthusiasm are gone,as she is generally more calm,less energetic and not childish at all. Most importantly,this Amy is extremely emotionally intelligent,as the rest of characters seem to look for her help and advice constantly ( to the point that she has been given the "therapist friend" title by the fandom and is even referred as "the nice one" by Eggman himself ). Another interesting thing about this Amy is that she doesn't flirt with Sonic anymore,In fact, she barely expresses her liking for him (She does so a bit more in Japanese chz the characterization varies) and Sonic seems completely comfortable with this version of her around.

A lot of people say that this version of her is out of character and I completely understand where that comes from, but i must disagree because this characterization of Amy is the first one since the adventure era that focuses on her compassion/empathy rather than on her crush on Sonic, which combined with her intelligence,makes her not out of character,just the most emotionally mature Amy to date instead. I actually think that if the og modern Amy had grown up,this is the kind of personality she would’ve developed while becoming an adult (although she isn't supposed to be one). A good argument to defend this point would be that one Egg-memo you can buy through the fishing minigame in Frontiers where Eggman talks about how Amy has "come a long way" and how it took her some time "to find herself" and get out of Sonic's shadow.

Only problem i have with this Amy is that i wish she was more flawed and bubbly,mostly cause she can come off as very plain from time to time and way too mature. She is a bit too perfect for my taste. I'd like her to mess up more,to not always be so smart,to be more impulsive,a little bit more clumsy,fiery and wild,just so she could have some more of the charm of the original,y'know?

Before i talk about her more recent Videogame portrayal (TMoSTH) i want talk about IDW Amy:

in IDW, all of Amy's flaws and positive traits from past games are balanced pretty well: she is flawed and relatable and can mess up a bit sometimes because of her impulsivity,but she's emotionally and strategically inteligent, optimistic and incredibly kind. She is a great fighter and leader,but also a wonderful friend who offers emotional support. She has a strong personality, lots of sass and can be very aggressive and intimidating towards her enemies, but not any less of an empathetic and compassionate person because of that. Her strength and confidence are pillars for her character instead of nonsensical anger,but she still shows self doubt and fear from time to time. She is energic, idealistic and still a romantic,but not obsessive nor possesive. peppy but emotionally intelligent. She still loves Sonic, but her feelings for him feel authentic rather than childish idealization,and given that she now respects his space,she's written to be happy just with fighting by his side and jokingly flirt from time to time. (their bond also seems stronger,but that's a topic for another day.)

I believe this portrayal of her is one of the best we've gotten in the sense that she represents a good mix of most things that has made her positively memorable since the beginning and lacks every problematic aspect of her character that was added post her creation. And because of this good mix of characteristics, IDW Amy is constantly praised by the fandom. But something i hear a lot is people saying how they love IDW Amy and despise "Main Amy" -by which i'll assume they refer to videogame Amy just in general- and that way of summarizing all of Amy's game portrayals feels very odd to me, especially because IDW Amy is a culmination of every single good aspect that has been added to this character combined with most of what she was meant to be at the start. In other words,IDW Amy couldn't exist if it wasn't for all the game Amys before her.

It's true that in IDW we haven't seen her character be as impulsive and outspoken as in the Adventure era or Heroes, and i miss that as much as every other Amy fan. But I do think that ,because so much assertiveness wouldn’t coexist very well with things like careful thought, the reason for that change must be that IDW is writing an more mature version of the character and It’s hard for them to keep such aspects of her personality intact without her being seen as childish by the audience now that they are paired up with big responsabilities (ex: the restoration) Especially since that super impulsive nature of hers probably came naturally at the time because she was supposed to be a 12-year old and wether we like it or not, it was implied by the narrative that it was one of the main reasons she got caught by eggman both in SA1 and SA2. Aka,IDW Amy isn't allowed to make as many mistakes as the og.

After all ,Amy used to be written to be mostly seen as a comedic character and as an "extra addition" to the main team rather than as an important,needed member of it. ( even in Heroes,where she had formed her own team,she was still trying to catch up to Sonic and his team because she had been excluded of it.) If she made a mistake and got caught by eggman because of her stubborness,the writers would just make Sonix fix things. In IDW she doesn't just feel older,but she has also gotten to have important roles in the fight against Eggman and people rely on her with their lives,so it doesn't surprise me that the writers try to make her be more conscious and careful when it comes to her actions now that she has more responsibilities and can't allow herself to make as many mistakes as she did back when she was written to be more immature and impulsive because of that extreme assertiveness.

Now,I personally believe that Amy in TMoSTH is the same as in IDW, just that she feels more like her OG self in TMOSTH because ,for the most part ,Bday Girl is on that train literally to just have fun and do as she pleases. She doesn't have any weight on her shoulders nor expectations,she is free of responsabilities all the way until the climax of the game and the game itself is very comedy-centric for the most part, so the writers pobably felt like they could set that impulsive,assertive side of her loose again, and i loved it!

In this game her character doesn't revolve around Sonic and she messes up a lot (The way she was so ashamed of how she broke her hammer when she tried to escape the closet with brute force that she lied, how she didn't realize Sonic was actually hurt because she was too excited about the game, how she was overconfident and impulsively tried to solve the case and completely failed ,how she and vector started beating a wall violently after realizing the train was alive,etc),but her positive qualities shine throughout the game as well ( How she took the time to organize a party that she'd think everyone would have fun at,How she is so thankful that everyone showed up and doesn't mind that Shad and Sonic didn't bring gifts, how she makes sweets remarks about others and cute jokes in distressing situations,how she has faith in Shadow's goodwill, The way she delivers the final blow at the end and says that despite everything,she loved the party because it was an adventure,etc ). Throughout the game,Sonic and the rest treat her in a way that really goes to show what a good friend and a lovely person she is ,and she expresses great appreciation for everyone's presence in her life.

It's honestly an amazing coincidence that this game takes place on her bday considering that it's the one that made this portrayal of her "game canon". As a fan of her, i celebrate it and hope we get more of it in the near future.

So yeah, i didn't talk about Sonic X Amy,Archie Amy nor all the comics,series and games that came out between the big videogame titles. There is much more about how Amy has been written that could be said, but i think i did a pretty decent summary of the most important changes her character has gone through the years mainline game-wise,at least good enough to defend my point that she wasn't a stalker originally and she definitely isn't one now. As i mentioned before,i agree that she was portrayed as possesive and obsessive for a long period of time and as an actual harasser for a shorter one , and that we should definitely recognize it and be critical of such things being portrayed as “quirky” and “funny” aspects when they are in reality, hurtful. BUT summarizing her whole character by calling her a stalker and an obsessive fangirl is defining her based on the worst examples of her characterization and ignoring her good ones completely.

Feel free to disagree with my character analysis,my opinions and the way i categorize her portrayals,but i strongly believe that Amy rose isn't meant to be a harasser,an obsessive fangirl or personal space invader.

My girl deserves better.

#also don't get me wrong i love battle #is just that Amy is really hard to like in that game #props to her for carrying weights for half of it tho we stan a strong pink rat #if you actually read this whole thing props to you #also thanks anon for giving me an excuse to talk about amy #amy rose #sonic spoilers #character analysis

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wufflesvetinari · 2 months

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ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - themortal. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

#wyllstarion #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #bloodpact #leading you gently by the hand through wyllstarion nation #fic rec

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asimplearchivist · 9 months

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‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once). ⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.

He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.

Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)

Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.

Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?

It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.

His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..

Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.

A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.

It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”

Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.

“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”

“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”

Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”

You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”

Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”

Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”

“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.

He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”

“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.

Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”

“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.

“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.

“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”

“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.

Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”

“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”

“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”

“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.

“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”

Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”

“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”

“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”

“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”

“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”

“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”

Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!

“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”

“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”

“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.

“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”

“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”

“Certainly.”

Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?

“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”

“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”

Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.

“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”

Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”

Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.

“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.

“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”

“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”

“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”

“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?

“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”

It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”

You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.

“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”

“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”

And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.

He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.

You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”

“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”

“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”

And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.

“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”

You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”

Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.

Read the rest of the chapter here! :)

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant #reader insert #steven grant/reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction

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tare-anime · 10 months

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SxF Mission 84

(Beware of spoilers)

Oh woooooowwwwwwwwww!!!

Wheeler is really one capable spy!!!

Totally love him, Endo!!!

He can easily defeat 3 WISE agents!

Turning the table when it seems like he was already arrested

Using a small knife to nullified gun threats

And not falling for Twilight's tricks, even beat him down!!

Whoah....

Yea I know Twilight is already injured. But Wheeler really is a league of his own

With that kind of stamina, agility, skills, and adaptable analysis accuracy, are we sure he is not triple agent? That he's actually part of Garden?? Because I don't think SSS can have an agent of this caliber 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (sorry SSS).

Anyway, the chapter end with unhinged Fiona.

After unhinged Melinda back then, now we have unhinged Fiona. Endo sure loves his female characters, eh?? (And I love Endo for that 🥰)

Now the questions are, what is the reason for Fiona's rage? Is it:

1. A simple fangirl getting angry because her idol is hurt? Which is, tbh, rather meh. I really hope Endo use this narrative to develop Fiona's character. Which make possible reason no.2 is more interesting. That is...

2. Fiona's ideal or perfect Twilight (in her fantasy) is being broken to dust. She has to accept a bitter truth that at the end, Twilight is just another human and that's he is not invincible. So she better stop putting him on pedestal, and worship him. It is about time she surpass her mentor.

"Ambitious Fiona" is still a far more interesting characterization rather than "crazy fangirl with crazy dreams Fiona".

3. Fiona that has realized that Twilight is just mere human, now change her target to Wheeler. She has to kill this man (but Wheeler survive) and thus begin the cat and mouse game between the two. (What? Fiona and Wheeler? Don't you guys see it in that panel? How Wheeler flirt with Fiona by mocking her incapability? Fiona-Wheeler--> Feeler? 🤣🤣🤣 lol, I'm joking. Or maybe not 👀)

4. Fiona and Yuri first meet! She is upset cause Yuri is getting beaten down! (Ok, this is just my YuriIona impossible wish 🤣)

Ahem, what? Twilight is destinied to be with Yor. So let's make harem for Fiona instead.

Ok ok.

Angsty thought now.

What will happen when Yor heard the news that both of her boys has now been hurt and hospitalized? They might tell her that both got in a "totally happen in different place" car accident. But Yor herself is not a stranger to martial arts. She would definitelly recognize the wounds on Loid's and Yuri's body as a result from fighting. She will be devastated for sure. But her reaction can be:

1. She blame herself, and then start to do her night job harder. Kill harder. Clean the place harder.

2. She connects the dots and realized that Loid and Yuri has fight the other. She might be very upset at both of them. Yor herself might be not thinking about the boy's secret identity, but this will lead Yuri to realize who Loid really is.

Either way, this arc is getting more and more interesting!!!

I can't wait to read more, Endo! 🥰🥰

#spy x family #loid forger #fiona frost #winston wheeler #chp 84 #chapter review #sxf manga spoiler #sxf manga spoilers #spoiler #spoilers #sxf speculation

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jacksprostate · 29 days

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male fight club au:

(might be a little unpopular but i thought it would be interesting okay)

-i feel like it'd be a lot more overtly death culty. men love to be sent to die

-look a proper inverse would still have the narrator be homosexual and Tyler be his idealized, attractive, forbidden ideal; there's two ways you could go, make him super masculine or make him a really feminine guy. I think maybe blend it, guys will follow any man as long as he walks the right walk. He can have slutty outfits. Male Tyler would definitely be a slut, I'll die on this hill. It hits both that power ideal as instructed by society as well as that like, forbidden quality that leads the narrator to sublimate all his desires into a hallucination

-the narrator would be more annoying as a man but tbh I still have some sort of sympathy for him... I think male fight club would really need to nestle itself in the insane hierarchies society encourages in men, and also that lemming death instinct

-I'm not sure on my thoughts for how female Marlon (Marla? Martina?) would factor into the story. I mean, gotta keep the narrator's resentment, but I feel like the social dynamic is a lot more different. Not to mention, the characterization of Marlon as a gay prostitute doesn't really work as a direct inversion. Maybe instead of fucking others, female Marlon and male Tyler has some weird thing going on and it serves as part of the power that the narrator wishes he could have. kinda dark

-Marge goes from a single mom to a divorcee dad. I'm so sorry sweetie you're a casualty of the au

idk i'm still thinking on it!!

please share any ideas yall have, i know i've seen some cool male fight club art every now and then so even if it's niche someone out there has to care about this, right

#fight club #april fools :)#im going to bed now but ill be up in the morning to discuss any theories :)

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stellamancer · 10 months

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pairing: fem!reader x merman!satoru gojo

contents: more varying levels of anxiety from the reader, mentions of food and eating, satoru gojo is an absolute menace

notes: part ii! um, got a little delayed because i wanted to write a kiss scene... and also because i was fretting over characterization, over reader’s characteriztion, over gojo’s... he’s really hard to write i think. nuances, you know? hoping i did a good job. also somehow this chapter is?? longer?? than the last?? i’m surprised tbh. anyway, please enjoy.

word count: 5.5k (who the hell am i???)

previous chapter || masterlist

You think you might have made a really, really big mistake.

Last night, it didn't seem like a mistake, rather, it seemed like the right thing to do. Who knows who could have found him? What they would have with him? To him? It was better to have brought the merman home than to leave him to an uncertain and possibly cruel fate. You did the right thing; you were certain of it.

At least, you were until you woke up, greeted by the merman's smooth voice and his blue, blue eyes. Ever since then, it’s just been one thing after another with him.

Don't you know that merfolk need the water to be at a specific temperature?

Don't you know that the water needs to be at a certain salinity level?

Don't you know that thing you're keeping him in is far too small?

It's only been for a couple of hours, but you're already completely exhausted trying to keep up and accommodate his needs. To be honest, it's actually kind of overwhelming and you can't help but wonder if this is what it's like for people who adopt animals just because they think they're cute or something.

Not that you would call the merman cute.

Especially not after he’s spent all morning basically mocking you for not knowing anything about merfolk. You didn’t even know they were real until last night, so how could you possibly know the optimal ambient water temperature for a merperson? But you're trying, and hopefully that counts for something. Which is why you're standing in the doorway of your bathroom, holding a platter with a single, whole, raw mackerel on it, its dead eyes boring into your very soul.

Originally, you were going to grill the mackerel in question and have it for breakfast, but you’ve been so caught up in doing this and that for the merman that you haven’t had the time to eat, much less cook. It’s fine. You and Minori planned to meet up at that cafe off the beach that she likes, so you can just eat there even if you think their food sacrifices flavor for the sake of looking disgustingly photogenic.

Speaking of that, you should probably start getting ready soon. You’re supposed to meet up in a little over an hour, and you feel a little gross, still in the clothes you wore last night, plus you have no doubt that you absolutely need a shower, but before you can do any of that, you need to feed the merman.

His gaze zeroes in on the platter in your hands, realizing you heard him earlier (as if you couldn't— he's so very loud). He seems to perk up at the prospect of eating, but it doesn't last long as a frown settles across his features. You gulp. It feels like you're in for yet another merfolk lesson.

Finally, he asks, "Is that supposed to be… food?"

You nod slowly.

"For me?"

You nod again.

"I can't eat that."

"Wh-why not? What's wrong with it?" You almost demand. In hindsight, you should have asked, especially since Mr. Merman's seemed eager to point out every misstep you've made so far. You were so sure that the mackerel would have been acceptable that you didn't even bother. It makes sense for a merman to eat fish right? What else would he eat? Seaweed? Is he maybe vegan?

"It's dead," he tells you and though his tone is plain, you can see the amusement dancing in those beautiful blue eyes of his. "Fish are best live— squirming as you bite into them, their blood squirting—"

"Okay!" You squeak, interrupting his rather grotesque description. It’s way too early for any kind of gory stuff. "Okay! Got it!"

Well, that settles that; he’s definitely not vegan.

He grins, clearly finding enjoyment in your discomfort, and you try to tell yourself, again, that you did the right thing. You're trying your best, but the fact that it doesn't seem to be amounting to anything is frustrating. The merman's constant jabs and jeers at you and your efforts certainly aren't helping.

Neither is the distinct feeling of intense hanger that's starting to claw at you.

Maybe you should have a snack before you meet up with Minori.

The merman tilts his head, and you think maybe he's trying to look innocent, his eyes big and wet, his lips barely puckered. But the mischievous look in his eyes betrays him, making it clear that his aim is just to continue messing with you. "Oh, but—"

"Unfortunately," you interject again, exasperation seeping into your tone. You can feel your hanger about to violently consume you as you hiss. "I'm rather uneducated when it comes to merfolk food culture."

He just stares at you and it feels strange that he has no quip to counter you with.

Shit. Was that a bit much? You regret your words as soon as they're out of your mouth. Despite the merman's behavior, he doesn't entirely deserve to be on the receiving end of your ire. You really should have asked about his diet. And maybe gotten yourself a bite to eat while you were getting him that fish. It's not as if you didn't know you were hungry.

You take a deep, deep breath, hoping that fresh oxygen in your lungs can keep you sane for just a little bit longer. "Sorry. Just… is there— is it really completely inedible like this? If you really want it warm or something, I can cook it for you really quick."

He seems to consider your words, and you hope his response will be favorable. "...No, it's fine like this, I guess."

Relief saturates you as you exhale. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath. "I promise I'll get you something better later, it's just I… kind of don't have the time right now."

The merman hums and holds his hand out expectantly. You're not sure if you should just give him the whole platter or just the fish itself; you opt for the former as you cross the length of the bathroom to give him his meal. Then you look away. He's either going to swallow the fish whole or bite into it, and frankly, you don't know if you can stomach the sight of either.

It sounds like the latter though. You start to step away, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get ready, but that would have to start with a shower and while the shower is completely separate from the tub it is also right there. The thought of giving the merman a show while he eats is absolutely mortifying, especially when you consider how unnaturally handsome he is. Maybe you should leave a little early and swing by the bathhouse to shower there…

“Got plans?” The merman’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Uh, yeah.”

"A hot date?" he probes, sounding like he's snickering.

Your face feels warm and you whirl around to face him, catching a peek of a bit of the mackerel's tail hanging out of his mouth. "No, I'm meeting up with my best friend."

Last night doesn't count. You barely even spoke with one another. Not that you could since she—

"You don't seem all that excited about it," the merman remarks, his eyes watching you curiously, looking impossibly bluer than before.

You open your mouth to refute the claim. To tell him that the reason you don't seem excited isn't because of Minori but because you've spent your entire morning running yourself ragged because of him. But it’s not quite true, so you don’t. Try as you might to ignore it, Minori's recent behavior still weighs on you, awkward and uncomfortable. You hold your tongue and instead say, "That's… not true."

The merman's expression is indecipherable, his icy blue gaze fixed on you. It feels like he’s seeing right through you, silently calling you out on your weak excuse of a lie.

Feeling the conversation is over, you turn back around and take another step to leave, but then the merman speaks again.

“So, you know,” he starts, his tone adopting a flirtatious edge. “I’d be happy to teach you about merfolk culture. I’m pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”

Your entire body goes rigid and you glance back at him, in mild disbelief. “At… teaching?”

He grins at you, as if he’s happy to have your eyes on him again. Is he starved for attention or something? The merman winks as he responds cheerfully, “Yup!”

You gawk at him. “Like how you’ve been ‘teaching’ me all day?”

“That’s right! You’ll be an expert in no time.”

You doubt that. His teaching methods leave a lot to be desired; you’d even go so far as to say he’s actually a garbage teacher. You consider telling him this, but decide not to because he really seems legitimately proud of his skills (or lack thereof). “I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be lots of fun!”

You doubt that even more. “Based on everything you’ve ‘taught’ me so far, I’m honestly not even sure if I can adequately take care of you here…” You pause, then add, slowly more to yourself than the merman. “Maybe when I get back I should call the aquarium…”

It would be better, you think, to return him to the sea where he belongs. If anything, he seems well enough, and he hasn’t made any mention of any injuries that would keep him from going back. You don’t know for sure, but being in the aquarium would probably be better than your parent’s luxurious bathtub.

“An aquarium?” he exclaims and his voice is louder than usual, causing you to jump just a little bit. “You’re not serious, right?”

“Uh, well—”

“They keep a lot of different aquatic creatures there, don’t they?” the merman says before you can say anything.

“Yeah, but that means the facilities are bigger and so you’d—”

“They probably wouldn’t be able to give me the same kind of personalized care that I could get from you.”

“Maybe, but I’m sure they’d—”

“Besides,” he interrupts again, his voice even louder as if he’s trying (and succeeding) to gain dominance over the conversation at hand. “They’d probably keep me there for the rest of my life! They might even experiment on me!”

Wide eyed, you stare at the merman. Your initial thought is that the family that owns the aquarium wouldn’t do that, but you don’t know, someone else who works there might. Merfolk are supposed to be myths, legends, so it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility that if you were to dump him off at the aquarium that he’d become someone’s research project.

"You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" he pleads, staring at you, his baby blue eyes blown wide, wet with what you think, in the back of your mind, are crocodile tears, his lower lip quivering as if he’s a frightened child.

“I…” you start, trying to think of something, anything to say. There’s no doubt in your mind that the merman is guilting you. But you also know that he has a point, there’s no way to ensure that he’ll be treated humanely if you hand him off to someone else. Your stomach churns at the thought of scientists cruelly poking and prodding at him with needles and scalpels as if he were a lab rat. No matter how annoying he’s been, he wouldn’t deserve that.

After all, isn’t that why you brought him home in the first place? To protect him from such a cruel fate? If you were just going to hand him off to someone else, you should have just left him on the beach.

Slowly, you shake your head, “No… I wouldn’t.”

Pleased, the merman beams at you, his expression now the complete opposite of the pitiful look he was sporting just a moment ago. Despite his cheer, you still feel uneasy and you don’t think it’s because you’re hungry.

The reason becomes obvious when the merman speaks, as if your body was giving you a premonition, trying to warn you. “That settles it then! Guess we’re roommates now!”

You stare at him blankly, your thoughts stuttering at his words, struggling to comprehend them as if they were spoken with a foreign tongue. What did he say? What did he say? When your brain finally processes them, translates them into something you can understand, you nearly screech, the words flying out of your mouth before you can even think about filtering them. “Roommates? Who said anything about roommates?”

The merman’s eyes narrow into a smoldering gaze and you distantly wonder if he's just trying to show off the range of emotions that he's capable of. His voice drops an octave, purposefully sultry and seductive as he says, "Well, if you'd like a different kind of arrangement—"

"Shut up!" you finally snap, ignoring the electric feeling running up and down your spine at the mere sound of his voice. You don’t think you’ve snapped at anyone before, much less a stranger, but to hell with that and to him too. All morning he’s been bossing you around and while you’ve been doing you best to acquiesce to him, he keeps messing with you as if you’re his own personal toy. Maybe it really is the hanger, having consumed you, body and mind, by this point, but regardless, you’ve hit your limit with him. “We absolutely cannot be roommates! Don’t you have to return to the ocean, anyway? Won’t you turn into seafoam or something if you don’t?”

He starts to laugh and you glare at him. It probably sounds stupid, but you think you’ve heard something like that before, but then again it’s not like you actually know anything. The merman waves his hand dismissively, his lips curled up in amusement. “I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s nothing like that.”

"Okay, but that doesn't answer my question."

He gives you a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, eventually.”

You wait, because you know there’s got to be more to it than that. Is he just doing these dramatic pauses for the fun of it? He shoots you a mischievous grin, almost confirming it, as he adds, “Should be fine as long as I go back in the next hundred years or so.”

You nearly choke on the air. One hundred years? He can’t be serious. You take a deep, deep breath before speaking. “Sorry, but I don’t have one hundred years to be your roommate— I don’t even know if I’ll live that long. I’m only going to be here for the summer, and then I’m heading back home to Tokyo.”

That should be enough to deter him. At least that’s what you think, but you also think that the merman might like proving you wrong. His smile shifts only just slightly, the glimmering in his eyes reminding you more of the sky than the sea that he calls home. “For the summer then. We can be roommates until you go back to Tokyo.”

You scowl, wracking your mind for some kind of counterpoint, but it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle in trying to argue with him. He takes your silence as a chance to attempt to further convince you. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the only one here, right?”

You don’t say anything so he continues.

“Aren’t you lonely here all on your own?”

His question hangs in the air, unanswered, as you remain silent.

The truth is you’re used to it— to being lonely. You’ve been living on your own in Tokyo for long enough to be comfortable with the silence that comes with solitude. It’s no stranger, and sometimes you could even consider it a friend. But there’s no denying that maybe, just maybe you’d been hoping there would have been a little more time between your arrival and your parents’ departure. It’s fine. You’ll see them when they get back.

Besides, you still have Minori.

You can still hang out with her. Go eat at little cafes where you’re meant to take pictures of the food rather than enjoy eating it. Or have sleepovers where you chat about anything and everything. How she’s got something going on with Hayato. How weirdly nice Shinomiya is. How different life in Tokyo is compared to here. And maybe spending time with her will be enough to take the place of the silence, the loneliness that you’re grown accustomed to. It’s fine, you tell yourself, almost viciously. It’s fine because you still have Minori.

Minori, who’s supposedly your best friend.

Minori, who, you suppose, is acting strange around you.

Minori, who you’re supposed to hang out with in about an hour.

“We can’t be roommates,” you repeat, through gritted teeth as you reach up to massage your temple in exasperation. You don’t have time to deal with this right now: you need to get ready. “I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name.”

The merman opens his mouth to respond but just as he starts to speak, you can feel a vibrating in your pocket. Soon after the sound of your ringtone fills the bathroom, echoing off the walls. You shoot him a look, silently telling him to be quiet as you reach into your pocket to grab your phone. Your stomach feels like it’s doing gymnastics, flipping and folding into itself, uncomfortably, painfully. It’s amazing your phone is still alive, having gone all night and almost all morning off the charger and you catch sight of how much the battery remains— nine percent. But that’s not the most important thing right now.

It’s Minori that’s calling.

You turn away from the merman, gulping as you swipe the green answer button on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Her voice is strained, hoarse, like she’s gotten sick or spent all night screaming.

“Are you okay?” you ask, more a formality than anything. You know the answer, but you’re still concerned.

“No, I—” She coughs. It sounds almost forced. You ignore it. “I… kinda drank a little too much last night…”

Somehow, you’re not surprised. You bite the inside of your cheek as you try not to frown. “It’s okay. We can reschedule.”

“...you sure?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “You don’t feel well and… we have all summer to hang out.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Minori rasps out, then she adds, almost an afterthought. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Really.”

You could almost swear you hear another voice in the background, one that sounds almost familiar but you ignore it. You ignore it. You ignore it.

“It’s fine,” you repeat. “We have all summer.”

“Right.”

“Just get some rest, okay?”

“Mmhmm… bye.”

“Bye.” The line clicks first on Minori’s end. Your hand drops to your side limply and your phone almost slips from your fingers.

You don’t know how to feel.

On the one hand, she really might have drank too much. You remember seeing a few coolers filled to the brim with booze last night. It’s not impossible that, after you’d left, people, people including Minori, might have really gone to town with the drinking. She definitely could have gotten a hangover from drinking too much.

But something else in the back of your mind insists otherwise, it whispers that there’s something else going on. Her behavior is too suspicious, and it’s getting harder and harder to fight off the notion that she’s doing this on purpose, that she’s avoiding seeing you, avoiding talking to you.

And that hurts.

But what hurts more is that you don’t really know why.

Is it just because you were really bad at talking to her when you were in Tokyo? Or is it something else? You could message her and ask, but you’d rather ask her in person when you can. If you can.

“Satoru.”

You startle at the sound of the merman’s voice, turning toward him. You almost forgot that he was here. He’s watching you curiously, expression unreadable. It makes you a little uncomfortable, like he’s dissecting you.

“What?” Your voice is almost inaudible.

“Satoru,” he repeats and you notice his tone is almost gentle now. “That’s my name.”

“...just Satoru?” you ask, unsure. You actually have little doubt that it’s his name, but it feels a little… too close, too personal to be using his first name when you barely know him.

The merman gives you a wry smile as he dodges your question. “You know, it’s impolite to not offer your name after someone else gives you theirs.”

He’s not wrong, but still you hesitate. You feel like there’s some unspoken significance in giving him your name, like once you do, you’ll be setting something into motion that you won’t be able to stop.

It’s just a name, just your name.

Satoru’s eyes glimmer as you offer it to him and he repeats your name back, as if he’s testing the feel of it in his mouth. Something in your chest stirs at the sound of it, a little voice in the back of your head smugly telling you that it was right, but you ignore it.

With a satisfied hum, he says, tone shifting into something more cheerful, “With that out of the way, there’s no reason we can’t be roommates now, right?”

You stare at him wide eyed. It’s completely beyond you why he’d rather spend his time here, in your parent’s bathroom over being in the big wide ocean, but it’s clear that he has no intent on giving up. Between Satoru keeping you busy all morning and Minori canceling your plans, you don’t really have the energy to fight him any more anyway.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Satoru insists with a smile. This one is different from the others you’ve seen from him so far and you wonder if he’s trying to take a different approach to convince you.

Not that he needs to any more; you’re already resigned yourself to your fate.

“...only until I go back to Tokyo, okay?” you relent, squeezing the phone in your hand so hard it might break. This might be a mistake, agreeing to let this merman, to let Satoru stay here for the summer, but it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Satoru beams, bright and triumphant as he echoes. “Only until you go back to Tokyo.”

One trip out of the house to the bathhouse and the store is enough to reduce the discontent you feel from whatever is going on with Minori to just a frustrating buzz in the back of your mind. You know it won’t fully go away until you and Minori actually talk about it, but with the way things are going, who knows when that will be?

Besides, you feel like your hands are going to be too full attending to Satoru to dwell on anything for very long.

You heave everything you got at the store onto the counter. Even though you’d gone just yesterday, the sudden appearance of another mouth to feed demanded another trip. Despite Satoru’s offer to teach you about merfolk culture, he wasn’t particularly helpful when you asked him (this time) what kind of food to get him. Seafood, he’d told you with a snicker, and when you probed for something more substantial than that all he said was to surprise him.

His teaching methods really do leave a lot to be desired.

You did what you could with what little he gave you. Naturally, you bought seafood, two more whole fish, and then some other things, some of them a little… unconventional. It’s fine, though, you made sure to get things you could eat just in case Satoru doesn't like them. And if he doesn't maybe that'll teach him to be a little more specific next time.

"Hey! Are you back?" Satoru's naturally loud voice echoes throughout the house. He must have really good hearing if he heard you shuffling in the kitchen, though you did slam the door pretty loud when you came back in earlier.

"Yeah!" You holler back.

"Perfect! I'm hungry!"

Of course he is. But then again, it's been a bit since he ate that mackerel earlier. Your stomach rumbles in agreement with Satoru. After Minori had called, your hanger and appetite had basically disappeared, but now it seems like it's recovered. Your stomach grumbles again, and you consider eating before bringing Satoru his food, but…

Since you're "roommates" now wouldn't it be better to eat together?

Sharing a meal with Satoru sounds like a mistake, but if he gets too annoying you can just get up and walk away. Nodding to yourself, you grab the things you'd bought to eat and some of the things you'd gotten for Satoru to try and head for the bathroom, stopping by the storage closet on the way.

You find what you're looking for— your mother's bed and bathtub trays— with relative ease. Hopefully, the bathtub tray will sit comfortably on the tub, even with Satoru's massive body in it, if not… you can probably both share the bed tray. You grab both trays and, while it's a little awkward, you manage to carry them both into the bathroom.

Satoru's lounging in the tub, since there's not really much else he can do, his long arms and even longer tail hanging off the edges. You feel bad, even though your parents' luxury tub is huge by human standards, it really is too small for him. Maybe it'd be fine if he could bend his tail the way people bend their legs but you don't know if he can. When you enter, Satoru tilts his head toward you and shoots you a lazy grin. You freeze, remembering again, how stunningly handsome he is.

And then he ruins it, by opening his mouth, eyes on the bag in your hand.

He starts to pout. "Did you bring me another dead fish?"

"They only sell dead fish at the store." You say while you set up the trays as little makeshift tables for you both. Luckily, the bathtub tray fits— just barely— but a win’s a win in your book. When that’s all done, you start to pull everything out of the bags. Satoru watches curiously as you separate your stuff from his. Belatedly, you realize you’ve only really brought him snacks and nothing actually substantial.

“So, what have we got here?” he asks when you’re done.

“Uh, well,” you point at each item, telling him what it is as you sit down next to the tub. “Dried shredded squid, some different kinds of seaweed snacks and dried anchovies.”

Satoru hums and picks up the bag of dried anchovies and examines it, turning it over in his hands. Is he wondering how to open it? You’re about to reach over and show him the notch in the bag that he needs to tear, but he gets to it before you do and rips the bag open. It’s a little impressive that he figured it out on his own. You watch as he reaches his hand in and gingerly pulls out one of the fish. He turns it over in his fingers, looking at it before popping the whole thing in his mouth. You hear the absolute barest crunch as he chews on it.

When he’s done he chucks another one in his mouth as if it were a potato chip. “Not bad.”

You beam, maybe it’s not a glowing review, but still you’re glad to have finally, finally gotten some kind of stamp of approval from Satoru.

He glances at you and his lips ease up into a mischievous smile as he plucks yet another anchovy from the bag and holds it up to your face in offering. “Would you like one too?”

You eye the anchovy anxiously and bite your lip, not sure what to say. Do you tell him? Or do you just bite the bullet?

“What’s with that look?” Satoru asks, pouting. “Do you humans not eat these?”

“Uh…”

The pout becomes more pronounced, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Did you really give me something you wouldn’t eat? How mean.”

“...you said surprise me,” you finally grumble. “I’ve only ever used those in making soup stock— I’ve never eaten them like that.”

In an instant Satoru’s frown is gone as he latches onto the last thing you’ve said. He leans forward excitedly, his eyes shimmering with some kind of predatory joy. “Is that so? That would make this… your first time too?”

He does that thing with his voice again, and your brain goes offline for just a millisecond before booting back up. “Don’t make it weird.”

Satoru smiles, unaffected by your deflection. He waves the anchovy in front of you. “Well? Gonna try?”

You stare at it. It’s not like you’re opposed to it, so why not? It’s Satoru’s first time trying anchovies like this, so in a way would it be fair. You’re drawing the line at letting him hand feed it to you, though. Leaning a little bit back, you take the fish from him and toss it into your mouth. Just as you expected it’s a little crunchy, but more than that the taste is intense and salty, but…

“It’s not bad,” you remark, echoing Satoru’s sentiments. He grins and starts to eat them in earnest, few at a time. You pull at the plastic of one of the rice balls you got for yourself so you can dig in. After a couple bites, you notice out of the corner of your eye that Satoru’s looking at you again. “Mmm?”

“What do you have?”

You swallow what’s in your mouth before you explain. “Just some rice balls and a fruit sando.”

“Why does your food look better than mine?”

“Uh,” you pause, trying to think of how to word it, “My stuff is more… complex, I guess?”

Most of what you got for Satoru is pretty simple, consisting of only an ingredient or two. He huffs, obviously off-put by your answer, and leers at you like he wants something. Then he says, petulant, “I want some.”

You’re almost startled at how straightforward he is about it. Almost.

“I… just wasn’t sure if your stomach would be able to handle more… processed human foods,” you explain. “If… if you really want, we can share. I-I just wouldn’t want you to get sick from something you ate, you know?”

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at your words, but then he waves his hand almost dismissively, “Nah, it should be fine.”

You’re not so sure, but if he says so. “Okay…”

“So, what's that?” he asks, gesturing to the rice ball in your hand.

“It’s a tuna mayo rice ball. The other one I have has salted salmon.”

“I see.”

You think about the best way to go about sharing the rice ball. Would it be better to just flat out give him your salted salmon rice ball? There’s really no way for you to break off a piece of your rice ball to give him to try without basically breaking the entire thing apart.

Before you can decide on a course of action, Satoru ends up deciding for you. He leans all the way forward, getting all into your personal space so he can take a huge chomp out of the rice ball in your hands. You almost drop the entire thing in shock, and Satoru is either completely unaware or doesn’t even care as he leans back in the tub, grinning with a wicked amusement as he chews.

“That’s pretty good,” he remarks, licking his lips. Your eyes are unfortunate enough to pay a little too much attention to the action.

It takes you a moment to recover and you hand him the rest of the rice ball and say. “Okay, well, you can have the rest of this one and I’ll just have this one to myself.”

“I thought we were sharing?”

“We are,” you insist. “You’re eating that one, and I’m eating this one.”

“But I wanted to try the salted salmon one, too.”

“I… I will get one just for you next time I go to the store, okay?” you offer, hoping that will deter him from invading your personal space again and sinking his teeth into the other rice ball.

It doesn’t.

You’re so lucky that the fruit sando is sliced in two pieces.

next chapter (coming soon) →

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #nikuniku fics #sots fic tag

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bestworstcase · 9 days

Note

Oscar/Ozpin telling Jaune to rewrite the story of the Rusted Knight in his mind and to focus on the good times to remind himself what his whole ordeal was for...

Someone's very pushing their own bad habit of rewriting things in their mind to try to make sense of things onto Jaune, even if it's intended to be helpful in this case.

/pensive flat eyed look.

tbh i think it’s less oz saying “rewrite the past in your mind” than it is oz recognizing that the existence of ‘the girl who fell through the world’ as this beloved children’s story Everyone Knows is part of what’s fucking with jaune’s head now—because jaune fell into the ever after with a preconceived notion of who ‘the rusted knight’ is and what’s supposed to happen, and as soon as he recognized Himself as the rusted knight that familiarity turned into essentially a belief in predetermination, that he had to make sure things happened like they did in the story. which of course they didn’t, because the story was never real to begin with.

(there are some very direct parallels to be drawn here with the divine mandate; the corruptive force in ozma’s story is not his love of stories but his belief that what the god of light foretold is inevitable, that there are no other choices but the binary annihilation-or-subjugation. and with ‘fairytales of remnant’ being the way it is, i do think his fairytales are as much about preserving the truth for himself as they are a propagandistic tool—like there’s a reason he wrote the girl in the tower and a reason he put that story back-to-back with the gift of the moon at the end of his anthology, yknow?)

so at this point the story as jaune would tell it is—what he told ruby and weiss in the ever after, castigating himself for not even being able to live up to a make believe hero, fucking up the story so badly that alyx poisoned him. finding out that lewis made it home and wrote the story as he wished it could have happened and having that moment with the memory of alyx in the tree eased the burden a little, but that is still fundamentally how jaune remembers his time in the ever after, as his failure to live up to a make-believe standard.

and i think ozma’s point is that jaune should try to stop focusing on His Failures (measured by the distance between himself and the character of the rusted knight) by thinking about what really happened, how and why these kids became so important to him, before everything went wrong. what was it all for? jaune didn’t care so much because the rusted knight was supposed to be kind and helpful; he cared because he’s a caring person and he tried his hardest to help them get home safely.

’cause if jaune can shift his perspective on the beginning, then freeing himself from the burden of the Idea of the rusted knight, the Idea that ‘the girl who fell through the world’ was how things were Meant to go (and he messed it up) becomes not just easier but possible at all.

i think it’s telling that one of the things he remembers is lewis promising to write the story to help jaune—he’d long forgotten that by the time the girls found him, but imagine how remembering it now will change his perspective on ‘the girl who fell through the world’. the discrepancies aren’t because jaune failed; lewis isn’t in the story because lewis made it home, and wrote the book in the hope of guiding alyx and jaune home too. the rusted knight is characterized the way he is in the book because that is who jaune really was to lewis; jaune spent decades beating himself up for not living up to someone else’s perception of him. and now he can revisit the story through the lens of this being How Lewis Saw Him, not real but true.

#ozma’s bad habit is being cynical about the fairytales—using them as propaganda and refusing to engage with them honestly

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transhawks · 20 days

Note

canon dabi is actually so much more unhinged (and more complex tbh) than fanon dabi. as someone who loves unhinged characters this is a positive for me. i've actually enjoyed his fanon portrayal a lot over the years and had trouble adjusting at first when more got revealed about him but now i appreciate both the canon and fanon versions. the way large parts of fandom react to his canon characterization just goes to show that they really cannot handle more than one type of abuse narrative or one type of abuse survivor. Some of the commentary is honestly offensive. Like there's no problem with still enjoying fanon dabi imo as long as you're not massively fucking disrespectful to his canon version (and the people who can relate to him). anyway i can always trust your blog to have the good takes

I genuinely feel canon dabi is more unhinged. Like he's more complex and interesting. But yeah this asks is perfect:

the way large parts of fandom react to his canon characterization just goes to show that they really cannot handle more than one type of abuse narrative or one type of abuse survivor.

This might be the biggest issue here. The story is very much about explaining there's no perfect victims. Our like one "perfect" victim is Eri, but other than that, Horikoshi makes sure to explain that this idea of victim as a virtue is both dehumanizing and harmful in letting people actually get out of victimhood. Because there's an instinct to make people who get harmed seem like they should be saints, and many worldwide religions and culture see suffering as virtue.

You see this in the manga and very much in fandom. It's why anyone saying Rei was culpable until she had to speak HERSELF in the manga, was silenced or told to stop any Endeavor apologia. You see this in the completely lack of nuance when it comes to Twice and Hawks - the unhinged Hawks fans will completely woobify and strip Keigo of agency and accountability, blaming Twice and saying he "needed" to die (which Horikoshi has had to a number of times say no to) but on the other hand you have hardcore villain stans who will completely play stupid when it comes to contemplate the enormity of the institutionalization and grooming Keigo has been subject to as a child born to fugitives, essential homeless, and then as a ward of the state/bought child soldier. Or ask people about Tomura. There's no nuance, there's no desire to understand because even the idea of understanding, not excusing, but understanding is seen as apologetics or "supporting the other side". It fascinates me how much this is clear in both manga and the real world. Some of the biggest lessons in BNHA are clearly missed by its own fandom, and there's a lot of irony in that.

#asks

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a-cat-in-toffee · 4 days

Text

me: yeah im gonna go to sleep

also me: *proceeds to send my friend 650+ words of pepsisprite analysis*

thinking about john being a literal embodiment of the narrative and davesprite being an embodiment of the game. the game and the narrative are intrinsic to each other's existence, but without each other they would be useless. what's the point of the game if no ones watching, and whats the point of watching if no ones playing? john and davesprite’s relationship sort of mirrors that, davesprite wouldn't exist as a sprite if john had never died, but john WOULD have died if davesprite didnt save him. they're necessary to each other's creation and to each other's continued existence and relevance.

they're the world's shittiest soulmates because their relationship is so riddled with the game and narrative but davesprite and john are tied together in a way which ends up with davesprite always ending up right next to john again. johndirk and pepsisprite are very related what with davesprite mirroring dirk in a bunch of ways, but the difference between the two ships is mainly when they would happen imo. (canon) johndirk can only work postcanon, mostly because they simply don't actually get to meet each other until then, whereas pepsisprite HAS to happen during the game, the 3 year trip to be precise.

all they had were those 3 years together, really, before everything went to shit. obviously they had known each other before then, but that was john and dave. the "real" dave, before the specifications had to be made. it's kinda sad how because of the timeframe that pepsisprite would be able to work out in, they could never actually have a relationship. like they were both dealing with their own issues (most of which never were resolved, not fully) but it mightve fixed them tbh.

thats really why I'm a big fan of back to the beginning post game aus that include the splinters because their stories are never really completely resolved, most of them are sort of just brushed away or swept into something new (e.g. davepeta)

also going back to what I said earlier on how johndirk mirrors pepsisprite in a way, it does! but there's a lot of nuance to the situations? davesprite is more like bro than dave is, thus making him more like dirk, but he's still a dave yknow. pepsisprite is actually a closer parallel to jakehal, especially by the end of the boat trip with the vaguely antagonistic relationship the two of them have.

actually i think they should be kismesis sometimes as a treat. john has so much emotion and anger built up and having somewhere to vent out that frustration would probably be really good for him. at the same time, though, they're also moirails because john and dave are quite literally the closest humans can get to moirallegiance. john and davesprite transcend quadrants in the actual definition of it, embodying the quads all at once instead of vacillating.

davekat (a ship most people consider to embody all quads) sort of does something similar, however a lot of the time their characterization is of vacillation between redrom and blackrom vs where pepsisprite is happening simultaneously.

davesprite *is* proud of john and he does really love his friends, however because of the trauma he went through growing up (which was later reinforced by all the shit that went down in the game) he can only express so "ironically" or backhandedly, and john is so repressed to hell and back that *he's* not even sure what emotions he's feeling half the time

I think the fact that the two of them can so effortlessly communicate despite all that, though, really shows you their relationship. john can see the genuine in davesprite's "ironic" statements, and davesprite can pick out john's feelings through all the happy freedom bullshit. they communicate so well despite everything because they're best friends and because they've known each other so long. davesprite is important to john just like john is important to davesprite, and they always end up right back next to each other.

#john egbert #davesprite #johndavesprite #pepsisprite #homestuck #hs meta #homestuck meta #they never leave my fucking brain y'all

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reixuuu · 7 months

Text

꒰ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ✩࿐

pairing: baizhu x reader

content: fluff, you help baizhu collect herbs, just pure wholesomeness tbh, w rizz, flirting

summary: early mornings with him are as soft and sweet as ever

a/n: gift for @floraldresvi for mika’s gift exchange event! this is long overdue, so i apologize for the long wait <//3 btw this is rei! i’m posting this here though hehe because although it says baizhu x reader, it wasn’t really meant to appeal to a wider audience. also, i’m sorry if i didn’t nail his characterization </3 tbh i don’t know how to write baizhu that well

“My angel,” Baizhu’s voice rings out clearly amidst sounds of an awakening world, intertwining itself with the peaceful songs of dawn fauna and rustling leaves to weave an intricate symphony. “Thank you for accompanying me here so early in the morning.”

When you look over at Baizhu, you notice a soft smile painted across his features. It’s contagious because mere seconds later, you feel the corners of your lips dancing up in a grin as well. He looks absolutely ethereal under the ephemeral morning light. Glints of topaz dazzle within the depths of golden eyes, catching the light of the illustrious sunbeams filtering through the canopy of viridescent foliage overhead.

There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“There’s no need to thank me,” you tell Baizhu. “I enjoy going out with you.”

Baizhu sighs, content permeating his breath.

“I’m glad my sentiments are reciprocated,” he says, the grin on his face somehow softening even more.

Gently, he intertwines his fingers with yours, his skin brushing against yours in a manner that feels comforting. Although it’s still early in the morning, you feel more energized than ever. But it’s always like this when you’re with Baizhu. You feel like you can do anything when your lover is by your side. For a while, the two of you simply stroll, taking in the scenery. Fragmented gold tints everything a warm shade, and the cerulean hues of the river bordering the path you’re currently walking glisten as if studded by diamond shards.

Soon enough, you reach your destination: a clearing amidst a thick grove of bamboo. Various herbs are hidden within the vegetation. Although they’d be nothing more than simple plants to most, to you and your lover, they hold a value rivaling that of the most precious gemstones. To the two of you, they are opulence in the ordinary.

“Will you be alright if we split up?” you ask Baizhu. Originally, you had planned to look for herbs in separate areas. However, now that the time has come to part ways, you’re beginning to feel nervous. It will only be for a little while, and the two of you won’t be too far away from each other either. Besides, you know he’s more than competent, but you can’t help but worry about him due to his illness. Perhaps it’s because he’s worth more to you than he’ll ever know, or perhaps it’s because he loves you unconditionally, but you can’t bear the thought of harm befalling him.

“You’re concerned about me?” Baizhu chuckles, letting go of your hand to caress your cheek softly. “How endearing,” he remarks, “but you need not worry. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

Although you’re worried, you decide to trust Baizhu. His reassurance is enough for you to believe that he’ll return to you safe and sound, so you go your separate ways.

Time ticks slowly. Seconds are eons when you’re away from your lover, even when you’re preoccupying yourself by sorting through the various herbs strewn across the forest floor. You pick nothing but the best ones, recalling the knowledge you had obtained throughout various short expeditions with Baizhu.

And eventually, you find that the midday sun has graced the world, shining with an opal-tinted glow that indicates it’s time for you to meet back up with Baizhu. You head back to the spot where your paths first diverged, and sure enough, he’s there waiting for you.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long,” you say, a grin involuntarily rising to your face as you’re faced with your lover once more.

“You didn’t,” Baizhu states, his tone reminiscent of ocean-like meadows swaying in a light summer breeze. “Although I must say, I was terribly lonely without you by my side.”

You giggle. “I felt the exact same.”

Baizhu takes a step towards you. For a second, you watch him intently, curious as to what he’s about to do. However, you have your answer soon enough. From the bouquet of verdant plants he’s holding, Baizhu pulls out a flower — pure white, each petal reminiscent of the snowflakes that adorn the winter wonderlands off in Dragonspine. With tender movements, he hands you the floret.

“For you,” he whispers.

Your smile widens, and you take a second to simply admire the flower. It’s flawless — in nothing short of pristine condition. There’s no way Baizhu accidentally picked this one. It must have taken him quite some time to find, and upon realizing that, your heart melts.

“Thank you,” you say. “It’s beautiful.”

“Is that so?” he asks. You nod.

“No wonder it reminded me of you.”

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sexyleon · 5 months

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I felt that post of yours about the Dracula fandom and the way it talks about adaptations tbh, like, I'm someone who was very involved in DD last year and I've written critique myself about Dracula adaptations bc I love comparative analysis and really thinking about the choices adaptations make, for good or for ill, but from my personal experience, a lot of fandom commentary on adaptations isn't really thoughtful analysis, and don't get me wrong, I'm a hater sometimes too and enjoying venting, but I noticed that this year, there were so many posts that started out as thoughtful commentary on the book, then launched into bitching about the evils of adaptations out of nowhere, and people can write what they want, but it got tiring after awhile to be in a fandom with so much angry energy, not to mention the divergence in canon vs fanon that was much starker this year that made me feel like I had read a different book.

Also, every time I see people point at re: Dracula to be like, see, it's so easy to do a perfect 1:1 adaptation of the novel, why can't other adaptations do it?, it's like, it's an audiobook, a movie can't be that long, even a television mini-series would have to make cuts. And I might dislike a lot of choices adaptations make, but creatives absolutely have the right to take a public domain work and put their own spin on things beyond book accuracy as the number one goal - and like, do we truly want a 100% accurate adaptation when the novel is still ultimately a xenophobic reverse invasion story? Like, I would hope modern directors would seriously grapple with those aspects of the original story instead of reproducing Victorian bigotry unquestioned.

Hi, thank you for your response! I'm glad that my post resonated with a few people!

I definitely also felt a shift in energy with this season of Dracula Daily, and I'm pretty sure it is a direct result of the phenomena that is Re: Dracula. Don't get me wrong, I am a HUGE supporter of RE: Dracula, and I found it to be absolutely delightful specifically because it was a 1:1 adaptation of the book, but I also think that it has skewed the way people engage with all the other adaptations of Dracula. You are so right when you say that Re: Dracula's media as audiobook is what allowed it to be so authentic. Even if it was a long-form series, there would have to be creative liberties taken to account for visualising certain aspects of the text. I am 100% sure someone would be able to do it, but it would undoubtedly be a labour of love and expense.

I think the biggest thing that got lost in translation in my post is that I was speaking specifically on the rhetoric of "bad adaptation = bad media." I don't even like to use the term "bad adaptation" because it feels inaccurate and gives the connotation of being holistically terrible; "failed adaptation" or "inauthentic adaptation" seems more apt when discussing how close an adaptation relates to the source material. I think it is unfair for any adaptation to be written off solely on the fact that it does not strictly adhere to the original text. This can be in way of narrative, characterization, theme, etc. I don't think it's fair to say "x adaptation is bad because it ignores x from the text" because that fundamentally dismisses all the other attributes that contribute to whether or not a piece of media is subjectively good (because honestly that's all it is-- subjectivity). Media, especially film and stage, has so many dynamic and moving parts. There are so many attributes that contribute to the success of any one given thing, especially adaptations (which can claim the title with even the loosest references to the source material). I feel like the black and white thinking when it comes to this doesn't really allow for a dialogue to exist between people who enjoy Dracula adaptations for what they are and, forgive me for saying this, book purists.

Understandably, there is criticism against some adaptations that have claimed to follow the source text closely, but very distinctly did not (Ahum, Cappola). However, I think it does everyone a disservice to deny the impact of a lot of these (mostly) films. Someone in the reblogs of my original post did a good breakdown of the origins of the Dracula genre itself, and I think it goes to show that the story of Dracula has a life of its own outside of the pages of Bram Stoker's book.

The most annoying thing about the responses to my initial post was the refusal to believe that anyone was making these comparisons. I really would not have gone out on a limb to rant about this if I hadn't been consistently seeing vent posts in the main tag with mostly negative responses to a lot of different adaptations of Dracula based on the authenticity of them to the text. I admit I was frustrated when I wrote it, but it really was meant to just address the black and white thinking re: failed adaptations making bad media. This is not to say that criticism of adaptations isn't valid, but I think there should be more nuance to this conversation and that's what I wasn't seeing. It's not fun to dive into the broad Dracula tag and find post after post shitting on your favourite media because it isn't like the book.

Sorry this was a bit long! I am just really passionate about Dracula okay!! And I really really really like all the shitty little shows and movies and plays and comics and all other media that comes out of his name (because YES, a lot of adaptations really make vampire synonymous with Dracula and ROLL WITH IT). Vampires are really neat and the Dracula genre of film has been a huge influence on horror media. I think there is a lot to be said when analysing adaptations, but none of it can come from blanket statements against them.

@spider-xan

#dracula #dracula daily #plz no sexyleon #honestly i lived through the hobbit movies and the book puritism that came out of that and i think it has influenced my opinion on this alo #again because there were some that didnt get it: i am speaking specifically on black and white thinking regarding this #if you don't like cappola's film because of all the shit that happened behind the scenes or because of the narrative itself outside of it's #relation to the original text??? i'm not talking about you

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orion-nottson · 6 months

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I shamelessly believe in the Decepticon cause tbh. Like sure, their honors gotten dulled and replaced by Megatron's hunger for power. But you can not deny their cause. It started off with good intentions. Like all they wanted was to rebel against an unfair, overpowered council and have equal rights for their people.

Plus, it's clearly stated pre-war Cybertron was horrible and plagued with discrimination. I hate to be a Megatron apologist. But if I was a cybertronian in the great war? I'd choose the Decepticons too.

(Pretty sure I'd regret it later tho)

i do believe i've had this ask marinating long enough. (you taste scrumptios btw! 😋) so please enjoy this mini-essay. i've been thinking about it for. years. oh authoritarian fascist regime that is the decepticons, how intensely you've strayed from your original goal and manipulated your followers via appeals to social frustration and promises of identity... oh megatron, you never stood a chance did you? the power got to his head! 😃

...truly a you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain the dark knight christopher nolan moment in the studio today...

So, the Decepticons are often framed as the unambiguously evil "bad guys", and the Autobot cause is unanimously righteous and just for standing up against them. The Great War is often labeled as a fight between good and evil, that there are two sides that are fundamentally and morally different.

I think this is a disingenuous characterization, and very essentialist too. It omits a lot of internal history and nuance that many TF series employ (maybe with the exception of classic G1, which was your average 1980s military propaganda cartoon for kids) when attempting to answer the questions: What happened for the war between the Decepticons and Autobots to start, and for it to become how it is? Why are they fighting?

A lot of TF series throw in this backstory that the Decepticons were essentially, at the beginning at least, revolutionaries. As you said, pre-war Cybertron was rife with discrimination— Cybertronian society was plagued with severe class determinism, manifesting in cultural elitism and the institution of slavery. Inequality and unfairness were givens. There was a strict, immutable caste system with very very little class mobility (if, really, at all).

In TFP, Megatron was a slave— He had no rights, was oppressed and controlled by the elite upper class, forced to perform manual labor in mines, and was not a recognized citizen. Later, he did "climb the social ladder" to become a gladiator, but he was still, ultimately, a member of the lower caste, a nothing. Gladiators are still just as expendable, replaceable, and morally worthless as a slave. His function simply switched from forced manual labor to forced violent entertainment, and in both roles Megatron was oppressed. It's then also implied in TFP that, at the start, many Decepticons came from similar backgrounds, being members of Cybertron's oppressed and marginalized.

So the movement starts with, admittedly, very good intentions; All Megatron wants is to be recognized as an equal, to be free, to have control over his own life. He values self-determination, autonomy, and freedom. Megatron wants others in his same position to be able to choose. He wants to exist in a society not at his expense, but because he is a valued member of it. A valued member, like Orion Pax.

Orion Pax does not come from this background. He is an archivist living a very comfortable life as a member of the socially sound, from Cybertron's capitol city no less, Iacon. He isn't wealthy or a noble, but he's genteel and of an acceptable function. Orion Pax is civilized. He's one of the good ones.

This is the foundation for all the reasons why Megatronus of Kaon and Orion Pax of Iacon would eventually split, leading warring factions, calling themselves by different names. Yes, they believed in each other enough to be dear friends and allies. Yes, they called each other brother.

No, they were never equals. Orion Pax didn't have much to lose; he had the safety net of a good upbringing, a good step on the societal ladder. Megatronus could lose everything. He tasted freedom and opportunity and decided he'd never go back as long as he lived. It would be like willful suffering, a misery of knowing everything he could never have.

It shouldn't come as a surprise, then, when the ideology shifts.

Megatron is consumed with jealousy when Orion Pax is chosen to be a Prime. Of course its the respectable and civil Iaconian clerk that the Council chooses to become a Prime, this position only attainable by those worthy of it, because the level-headed and moderate Orion Pax makes a better poster child than that brutish, angry extremist Megatronus. Orion Pax is the reasonable one, he's the better orator, better at appealing to the sensibilities of the upper class because he's a member of it.

Megatronus, to the system, is still just a gladiator, a slave. He just talks too much. Is too loud, too opinionated. Didn't conform to the status quo. Why should they reward disobedience? That would set bad precedent, you see. We don't want more people to question things, don't want them to ask for more than they deserve. We all have our place in the world, and Megatronus should've learned to stay in his.

"Be more like Orion Pax, Megatronus, he does things the right way."

This decision solidified two absolutes for Megatron:

One, that Cybertron's elite will stay the elite, and everyone below them will stay below them. The caste system can no longer be changed or dismantled or reformed— It is too powerful, too deeply engrained. It must be destroyed entirely.

And two, Orion Pax was never his friend. And Optimus Prime, who stands in his place, can never be his ally.

Optimus Prime is a mere extension of the Council's will. A pawn who will never seek to disobey it.

Megatron is betrayed on two fronts: Once by the false promises of his homeworld, and then by the person he thought was his best friend and dearest ally— His brother. He realizes he has to now rally his forces around the idea that true freedom, individual self-determination and self-actualization, will come only from the elimination of Cybertron's corrupt government. If it cannot be fixed, it must be reborn.

The Decepticon cause arises from the failures and disappointments of a skewed, unforgiving, impossible system. The cards were always stacked against Megatron and his people—

"Don't you see, fellow Decepticons? They have always kept you weak. Starving! Take what should be yours— What is yours!"

It's easy to see how 'bots in Megatron's position are drawn in. They feel the heavy hand of oppression too. They have wants, needs, and desires that won't be met by elites and nobles who care less than slag about them— Take Optimus Prime and his newly-formed Autobots for example: They want the Decepticon cause to fall back in line, to keep their heads down, to conform and stay quiet.

The Decepticons are galvanized by Megatron, their frustration and sorrow weaponized into action. Any true Decepticon would follow Megatron's lead— He is their hero, after all, and he is a hero that fights back.

It's time the Decepticons bite the hand. It's time they start making noise. It's time they take down the Council, the elites, the Autobots, and Optimus Prime— All who oppose their freedom.

See... it's easy to get drawn in.

It's harder to escape.

(So yeah. You'd regret it. It should've been a warning sign that you had to start calling him Lord. Isn't that what you were fighting against in the first place? Power corrupts, after all.)

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp megatron #megatron #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime #transformers discourse #anon ask #ask #ask answer #lil bit of fanon in here tbh #freedom fighter to fascie pipeline megatron type beat

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