#SO MANY CHARACTERS AND HES THE ONLY STRAIGHT ONE
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Winter's King 13
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.
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The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure.
You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey.
As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words.
‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar.
The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed?
“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.”
“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--”
“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.”
The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him.
“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through.
“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within.
The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further.
The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin.
“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--”
“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.”
“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists.
The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths.
You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee.
“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.”
“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--”
“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.”
“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--”
“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.”
“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.”
The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly.
“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.”
“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.”
She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.”
“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--”
“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--”
The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up.
“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips.
“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.”
“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?”
“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance.
“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.”
“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly.
“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues.
“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--”
“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!”
The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you.
“Go, fetch wine,” he relents.
You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him.
You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue.
You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid.
You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving.
You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him.
“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides.
The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly.
“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps.
“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?”
The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.
“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt.
“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?”
Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you.
“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath.
As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber.
You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy.
You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall.
Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze.
“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.”
“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.”
Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts.
“Wait, what happened?” She mopes.
“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.”
“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.”
Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead.
“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses.
“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.”
He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold.
“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.”
“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.”
“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine.
Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind.
The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no.
“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise.
You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose.
“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.”
“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.”
“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!”
“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says.
“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.
As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair.
“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.”
“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.”
“Let the maid go,” the king grits.
“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.”
Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.”
“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.”
“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks.
You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly.
“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.”
The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples.
“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises.
“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.”
The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself.
“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?”
Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?”
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#the witcher#winter's king
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the mark they saw on my collarbone
➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist
➔ 4.4k words
➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.
➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak.
➔ this reader insert character: has female anatomy, no pronouns used, is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.
Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”
Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.
“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”
“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”
“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”
Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”
“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.
But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…
The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.
The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.
He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.
The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.
That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.
He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.
This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.
This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.
It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.
The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.
Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.
He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.
“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.
Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.
They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.
But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.
All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.
Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”
Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.
“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”
“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid.
“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.
You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”
“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”
He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.
You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.
Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.
“Joel–”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.
“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”
Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”
“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.
Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.
“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.
Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.
“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”
“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.
“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.
“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”
You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.
“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.
For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.
“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”
But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.
“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”
Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.
He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.
Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.
“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”
“Alpha, please…”
“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”
You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.
“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”
“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.
“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.
“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.
His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.
He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.
“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”
“Y-yes, oh my–”
He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.
“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”
You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.
He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.
He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.
“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”
“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”
Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.
Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.
But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.
He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.
“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.
He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”
You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.
The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.
He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.
He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.
“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.
“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.
With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.
He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”
You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”
Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.
“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”
The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.
“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”
You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.
“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”
Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.
You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.
“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”
You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”
There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.
You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.
You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.
He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?
“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”
His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.
“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”
“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”
He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”
“Next time?”
“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”
“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.
“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”
“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.
He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”
“I am,” you’re quick to assert.
“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”
You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.
You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.
That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.
Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.
“Joel.”
Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.
“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”
Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#alpha! joel miller#joel tlou#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#tlou#the last of us#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#cece writes#series: maroon
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"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."
Part I Part || Part III
Sequel to this.
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Word count: 2.7k
Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...
Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.
“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs.
“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”
“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”
Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-”
“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?”
“I mean, I did. But-!”
“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”
“It wasn't my place to-”
Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink.
“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her.
“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.”
“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you.
‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain.
“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile.
“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand.
“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.
“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.
No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause.
Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room.
While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room.
You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.
“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure.
“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?
“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped.
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.”
“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”
“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm.
“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm.
“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance.
“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away.
Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs.
Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory.
Not that you were scared.
“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”
“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest.
But before that…
You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless.
You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.
“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace.
“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.
Wait…what's in his hand?
You take a closer look.
Isn't that…?
Oh God.
Oh fuck.
“Dad, I don't-”
“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.
But it's not like you can just tell him that.
“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.
It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
[Name] fell asleep.
It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether.
You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent.
You look like a kid.
Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…
Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.
He shouldn’t read it.
He shouldn’t but…
Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock.
He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred.
If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.
He could do that, but…
He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible.
October 3rd, 20XX
This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.
‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.
Lucifer keeps reading.
September 1st, 20XX
I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date.
I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger.
Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.
Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?
September 9th, 20XX
Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though.
A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?
Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.
September 16th, 20XX
I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom!
Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.
Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.
Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.
September 22nd 20XX
I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all.
Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either.
…I just pinched myself. Ouch.
Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—
He flips the page.
October 4th, 20XX
It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself.
It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.
I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.
I’ll find a way home.
You’re…leaving?
Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?
Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child.
Weren’t you?
You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith.
No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you.
Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you.
But he can’t do it alone.
Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.
Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin angel dust#angel dust#vaggie#yandere lucifer#yandere alastor
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saw ur vents abt dungeon meishi and while I haven’t read the series yet or watched the anime I have seen bits and pieces and already saw the blowup scene where Toshiro attacks Laois and like. even I with zero context didn’t totally hate him. It sucks majorly that it had to happen but like. Toshiro is going through his own shit and plenty of other characters ALSO don’t like Laois! I think people just see that scene and project the amount of times that’s happened to them with someone in real life, which like. I get it. I’m autistic and reading that scene hit like a gut punch bc it was something I had experienced directly in real life: trying to be friends with someone, thinking you are friends, only for them to reveal one day that they couldn’t stand you and hated your guts from day one. You wonder why the fuck they pretended and let you hurt even worse than outright initial rejection. You wonder why they’d put themselves through enduring you. It makes you feel like you can’t trust anyone, makes you feel like utter shit. I 100% get why it bothers people. But you can’t project real life people you experienced onto this character that does not align at all except for this one moment. Also knowing about the author, she probably put that in on purpose as commentary for how autistics in Japan generally have to go through shit like this bc of the way their social culture is. She’s made plenty of autistic commentaries before, I doubt she stuck that scene in there for no good reason. The fact that Toshiro kept quiet and didn’t say anything until he couldn’t take it anymore is VERY indicative to me of the ways Japan’s typical social system is a struggle on all sides. Not to say these are problems unique to Japan, but the nuance needs to be understood. Toshiro isn’t being a dick just for the sake of it. I want to read it sometime so I can better understand the guy, but I don’t want to hate him based on one scene where he was an asshole. Laois is an asshole plenty of times himself, being very overtly written as autistic doesn’t absolve him from the responsibilities of being an adult.
TLDR: People tend to infantilize Laois and demonize Toshiro, which comes down to the prejudices preconceived for both of them: people see Laois, as an autistic man, as an innocent sweet guy who needs to be protected. They see Toshiro, as an Asian man, as someone who should be “polite and honorable” or whatever and are appalled when he acts like a fallible human being and not some appropriation of a fictional romanticized samurai. I understand feeling betrayed and angry seeing a character be a genuine asshole about something (social expectation does not completely absolve Toshiro of his own antagonizations however much of a reason he had) but when it’s so damn one sided, and especially in a series where almost NO one is without complete asshole qualities that round them out, I find it kind of gross that people hate on him for that. Anyway. Just wanted to send a message of support and understanding. Hopefully after I read more I can offer more analysis to corroborate with you on.
100% CORRECT thank you anon
i also understand the people who are sympathizing with laios bc that scene is very easy to relate to for many autistic or otherwise neurodivergent people (i also got a cold sweat when i was watching it bc. like. having someone you thought was a friend straight up tell you there are parts of your behavior that they can't stand is one of the worst things to experience of all time, ESPECIALLY if you were only showing that behavior around them bc you thought they were your friend and you trusted them) but it's so frustrating seeing so many people have such shallow opinions about toshiro bc of it. im on hands and knees begging people to consider the characters in three dimensions and/or develop better reading comprehension because like!! toshiro's official meeting with laios's new group literally leads with 'oh his name is actually toshiro and we never knew bc our leader had a misunderstanding and microaggressed him and he was too polite to correct him' laios is not an innocent party here!! he is not an innocent uwu autistic baby he's a grown adult man with responsibilities, in that whole time he was partied with toshiro he never learned his real name!! plus using toshiro's crush on falin as a reason to hate him, falin's adolescence was spent in a school and a social setting where she was expected to mask + her being a girl also means she is expected to mask by default -> she is better at masking than laios so why are people saying that toshiro hates laios for the same traits in falin bc clearly not?? also saw one person saying 'he only likes falin because she's hot' NO HE DOES NOT HE WOULD NOT RISK HIS LIFE HEALTH AND RETAINERS IN A DUNGEON ON A FOREIGN CONTINENT FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN HE ONLY THOUGHT WAS SEXY!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DUNMESHI FANS THINK WITH YOUR BRAAIN
the whole fight he had with laios where laios points out that their party is more serious about finding falin and resolving everything also drives me nuts because i've seen at least one take saying that toshiro doesn't care about falin as much as team laios because of this. which yes the fact that team laios understands the importance of health in pursuit of a goal is very very important but for many cases in east asian culture (and actually any culture with emphasis on capitalism and economic growth) productivity will get valued above all else which leads to neglect of personal health, i.e: what toshiro was doing. so this is just a clown take to begin with
also interesting to me that almost every character in dunmeshi thus far has demonstrated some kind of racial bias/misconceptions (i.e: chilchuck about elves, senshi about half-foots, etcetera etcetera) and laios and falin are no exception. race and racial differences and conflict and coexistence is also one of the underlying themes in dungeon meshi, with the elves of the west being considered a major issue to many dungeon-goers and the mayor hating dwarves and having to contend with those elves, and then marcille's motive for studying black magic and even thistle's motive for being the dungeon keeper. so it's real fucking ironic that the fans are really quick and happy to demote toshiro to 'asshole side character who is bullying our autistic rep' instead of, you know, using nuance and thinking about it
tldr; dungeon meshi has great commentary on what it's like as an autistic person in society. but dungeon meshi fans are too quick to write off toshiro as an asshole japanese guy who is ableist and getting in the way of their white woman yuri, therefore helping to promote this website's enduring legacy as the piss-poor reading comprehension website
#dungeon meshi#asks#i thought this might happen when i heard dunmeshi was getting an anime adaptation but that doesnt make me feel better abt being right#i watched the ep last night with some friends and one of the first things out of their mouth during the laios-toshiro fight was 'i hate him#and i get it bc both of us had bad experiences being neurodivergent in a shitty american suburbia town#but also like. damn girl!! already???
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Maxie Infodump #1 - Little known character details from official media
I promised to post some of my maxie infodumps and headcannons, and I think I'll start it off with something simple. His official character bio that was hosted originally on the first release of ORAS
(this will be ORAS Maxie focused)
here is a transcript for easy reading:
"Maxie is the leader of Team Magma, the team seeking a world ideal for humanity. He pays attention to even the smallest of details, and is quite sensitive in some regards. He has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. He possesses a cool-headed outlook, thinking that some sacrifices cannot be avoided if he is to achieve his goals."
Okay, so first, after looking at the original japanese version of this page,
小さいことまで細かく気にする、神経質なところがあり、さまざまなことを数字を交えてあらわすのが口癖。
目的を果たすためなら、犠牲が出ても仕方ないと考える冷徹な思想の持ち主でもある。
The one word in here I wanted to be sure of was 'sensitive' since it can have many meanings, and the original japanese gives us some possibilities with:
Personally I think (being) highly strung is the most likely option here, but either way its an interesting character trait. And we all know he certainly builds up frustration and tension and explodes a bit like a volcano. Even if he does manage to correct himself afterwards.
~ ANYWAYS ~
Now that we have the bio, let's break it down a little and look at some fun examples of it in action!
Maxie has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. This typically comes out more when he is nervous or stressed. Here are some examples:
Ill just take ORAS as an example here since this is already getting pretty long...
In ORAS after fighting him at mt chimney, he lets you know in a specific numerical way, how much he fell behind:
And then again, when you battle with him and lose in the Battle Resort where he just has to let you know the situation in numerical terms by giving you the exact lose chance according to his own calculations of course:
"So the great Maxie has fallen, even when battling alongside your team... I shall commit this curious phenomenon to memory. It had less than a 1 percent probability of occurring, you know."
this culminates in a really interesting interaction between him and courtney after the delta episode. While It's pretty clear that Maxie cares for his team and especially his admins, he definitely struggles when faced with his crying admin, and being unsure of what to say, he settles with a numerical quantifier again.
He assesses the situation, and decides to comment on how MUCH courtney is crying.
His "paying attention to even the smallest details" trait also ties into this habit of his, and is probably why he jumps to conclusions a little too early because of small things he's noticed. Accusing Tabitha of wanting his spot as leader, just because he disagreed with him is one of those situations.
Pokemon Masters EX has a lot of new scenes with Maxie, and I would love to talk all day about them, but I'll just pick out one here, and that's from the "A pasio Spectacle" event.
In this event, Maxie overhears team break members simply say the word 'glasses' and instantly jumps to the conclusion that not only did they want to talk to him, but that they noticed his "magnificent mega glasses" and would like to hear a lecture on how they were scientifically made.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZmmaf9bhD8&t=144s
here's a link to watch it, its worth it :D
He certainly picks up on small details, but tends to miss the bigger picture sometimes, which is fun because I believe archie tends to do the opposite.
Perhaps his mega glasses are actually designed to reflect this, because they work like horse blinders, and keep maxie looking straight ahead (trust me, I've made a pair of these, and you cannot see someone standing to your immediate side).
Looking straight ahead is also relevant to his life goal, of ensuring the bright future of humanity, and as he says: "propel humanity to greater heights of progress and evolution."
And that concludes my infodump regarding this one little bio that is no longer available without the wayback machine, and I just wanted to share it with any other Maxie fans out there :D
Next I think I might tackle the bigger topic of how Archie and Maxie have so many fun contrasts in personality and more. and then maaayyybe I'll feel comfortable enough sharing my headcannons and theories. But only if people want more lol, I am not good at writing big posts :>
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do you happen to have any other bls with toxic kings up your sleeve? i’m as giddy as you when it comes to ming! i’m newer to bls, so there’s a good chance i haven’t seen whatever you suggest.
Anon, I have an entire roster of toxic characters because
I LOVE TOXIC BITCHES!
Like 2 Chainz rapped on one of my favorite songs, "I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem" which is why I HATE when a story won't allow characters to be toxic. Like we all know the character IS toxic, but the story keeps telling us he isn't that bad or he is only that bad because reasons. Regardless of the reasons, the character is a bad bitch so why not just let him fucking own it, which is truly the reason Only Friends pissed me off so much.
Case and point, my favorite characters were Ray and Nick. Ray was calling Sand a whore every two seconds and throwing money at him, while Nick was recording non-consexual sex tapes, yet the narrative wanted me to think they were just sad dudes who were slightly problematic.
NAH! Nick straight up said he was trash! THEY WERE TOXIC just like everyone else in that damn show!
Which is why I liked Kang in Dangerous Romance because I don't feel like the narrative eased up on his toxicity. In fact, I feel like the story said Sailom was into it with that master/servant scene at the very end.
So in order for me to love a toxic character, they must 1) be considered toxic by the story, and 2) stay toxic, so I'm going to give you a list of ten of my favorites, but know that spoilers are coming your way too. Also know that I do not recommend anything, ever, so these are not recommendations. These are merely my favorite toxicitos.
Mis tóxicos favoritos
presented in no particular order
Todd - Not Me
This man had his lover (it's canon to me) beat into a coma. Then, he went and grabbed that man's twin brother and made him take on his lover's persona all so he could overthrow his competition and be the number one evil capitalist. And then, AND THEN, he was excited to see his lover, Black, return even though he knew that meant he was probably going to die. Honestly, his entire relationship with Black was toxic, and I desperately need more of it. Not Me 2: Blackout when? WHEN, GMMTV?!
Rio & Kido - The Novelist Series
Rio blew Kido in front of an old man in broad daylight, so they could get a book deal. That's just one of the many fucked up things these two did together, but they were even worse apart. Rio lied to a college student for months about his arm being injured and writing pornographic novels just to turn on the college student and fuck him because . . . he was bored? It's deeper than that, but it kinda ain't. Rio and Kido did toxic shit to feel alive and that's my special brand of toxic. I will never make excuses for them. I like them this way.
Yai - Big Dragon
The very beginning of this show, as in the very first scene, is Yai and Mangkorn having sex AFTER Yai drugged Mangkorn in hopes of sexually assaulting him and recording it. AND MANGKORN IS INTO IT! Yai tries to steal Mangkorn's phone and ruin his life too, but Mangkorn is so in love with Yai, that he is willing to play along with whatever Yai does including fighting Yai. This is one of my favorite BLs for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest is because instead of trying to tame Yai, Mangkorn just decided to match his toxic energy! I love that for them.
Songpol - Club Friday
Bank plays toxic very well, which is why he has two characters on this list, even though this show isn't technically a BL. Club Friday is already a hot mess express, so to be the most toxic character in a show filled with toxic characters means that Songpol was TOK-SICK! He cheated on his boyfriend with multiple men. When his boyfriend left him for a woman, he showed up outside of that woman's house calling her a whore. He then went to their wedding just so he could fuck his ex in a bathroom (on his wedding day). He continued to hook up with his ex, and sent a video to his ex's wife of them having sex, only for her to tell him to move into the house and continue having sex with her husband! AND THAT'S ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE! He was serving telenovela villain, and I want him back.
Vegas - KinnPorsche
The scene: Vegas' beloved hedgehog has just died and he has carried out a tiny funeral for him while the bodyguard he has been holding hostage AND TORTURING comforts him, but instead of sitting in that grief, Vegas tells the bodyguard that the bodyguard is probably turned on by seeing Vegas weak, then proceeds to fuck him. Skipping over the fact that Vegas drugged Porsche, killed Tawan, got Big and Ken murdered by extension, and a plethora of other horrible shit, Vegas was a HUGE red flag from the very beginning, and I wanted him to choke me so badly. *bites knuckles*
Charn - Laws of Attraction
He had his reasons, but the story and his husband didn't let that be an excuse for his toxic behavior. He tried burning down Tinn's house, with Tinn and his grandmother in it, and Tinn was very upset about it. Not enough to not sleep with Charn, but enough to get his point across that if Charn wanted to burn something down, he needed to focus on burning down the oppressive heteronormative government, so we could all have basic human rights. Toxic, but for the cause.
Chalothon - The Sign
I knew he was a problem because the way he handled his patients, but he truly proved how toxic he was when he told Phaya he would kill Tharn before letting Phaya have him. I'm mad that the show made him good in the last episode, with most of if being off-screen, but I'll always remember how he committed psychological warfare on Phaya for eleven episodes in hopes of making Phaya seem crazy, and actually made Tharn, Phaya's soulmate, question Phaya's sanity.
Mol - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us
The only woman on this list and she isn't even queer. That's how toxic this chick was that she made it on a this list being a heterosexual, which was a major part of her toxicity. She is a top-tier gaslighter to her son. She doesn't actually consider Inn her friend. She uses feminist rhetoric to be homophobic. She manipulates every situation in her favor by using tears. I could write a list just about her being lead paint toxic, but the most fucked up part is that she got to ride off into the sunset with her son in the passenger seat being miserable, which is what she wanted. No other BL parent could reach her level. Korn and Gun from KinnPorsche exist, yet this woman would eat them alive without hesitation, then go throw a party for herself. She really is that bitch.
Yong Jie - HIStory 4: Close to You
I'm not going to bullshit around him being a whole ass problem. This motherfucker is the most controversial pick on this list, and I am well aware of why he is hated by the people, but the story told us he was the devil. The show treated everything he did like stalking, physical assault, and sexual assault as horrible, and he got knocked out for it. HIStory 4 is my favorite BL, ever, and part of it is because the story let this toxic motherfucker BE toxic. I love how much I hate him, and I love how much the story allows me to hate him.
So - House of Stars
This show was a mess, so I was not expecting this man to come out as THE toxic king to rule over every other toxic character. What made him so toxic is that I had no idea just how toxic he was until the exact moment I realized it, and that's why he is one of my favorites. He was sneaky. He was playing everyone against each other. He was letting the bodies stack up. He was Tan from Dead Friend Forever without anyone figuring out he was Tan. One person realized part of his plan, but even then, that person was not aware of how committed to the bit So was. This smile was the very last scene of the show, and it really proved that this boy ruined everyone's lives only to walk out of it completely unbothered. You know, king shit.
#toxic kings#I love toxic bitches#it's the unhinged behavior and mind games that always gets me#house of stars#history 4: close to you#180 degree longitude passes through us#club friday#kinnporsche#big dragon#laws of attraction#the sign#not me#the novelist
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Finished the Knuckles Show and uhhhhhhhhhh it’s certainly a show.
There’s good stuff buried in every episode especially where Knuckles is concerned. They set up a very interesting arc for him and just didn’t really explore much with it. After the first episode Knuckles is shoved to the side CONSTANTLY and is made the B plot more often than he should be as the TITULAR character.
Every criticism that said Wade takes over the show is correct.
After episode 1, Wade takes over every A plot and Knuckles is only ever in the B plot that has either minimal time focused on him or he’s just straight up not around (episode 4 is the worst offender here but it’s an issue from eps2-6). They actively write Knuckles out of the plot constantly and it’s very frustrating.
If you like Wade and enjoy his personal journey about his family then this’ll be fine. I, for one, thought it was interesting on its own but 100% it has no reason to be here in a SONIC MOVIE KNUCKLES spin off show. This is not Knuckles’ show. It’s Wade’s and that’s the biggest let down.
Knuckles IS there but that’s it, he’s just THERE.
And it sucks because Movie!Knuckles himself is very well crafted and very entertaining and engaging to watch. The show is at its strongest when it’s about Knuckles and spending time with him. Episode 1 is the only episode that it feels like what it was advertised as - the Knuckles show.
Sonic, Tails, and Maddie only show up for the first episode and never come back. Which is wild because part of the plot is Maddie has grounded Knuckles and he sneaks out but there’s never any consequences shown once he gets home nor do we see how anyone reacted once they noticed Knuckles is gone. These three are just abandoned after episode 1.
Tails has like 6 or 7 lines, my boy deserves sm better LMAOO
A big highlight, however, I LOVED Sonic in this one episode. The way you can see and FEEL how he’s grown from movie to movie and in this first episode is very well done. He’s truly becoming the Sonic I know and when he and Knuckles had their conversation on the roof where he tries to help Knuckles see the beauty in Green Hills, his home - that entire scene was PURE Sonic’s golden heart on display. He does still have his jokes that remind you Ben Schwartz is his actor and that he’s a silly kid but he IS still Sonic at his core and I loved that. It made me very sad we didn’t get to see more of him but I appreciated seeing Sonic handled this way. It makes me very eager to see how movie 3 goes about him considering everything Shadow brings to the table and how different of a threat he’s gonna be for Sonic.
Episode 2 is alright but GOOD LORD episodes 3-5 are such a waste of time. There’s good sprinkled in them in isolation but as full blown episodes, a waste. You can skip most of what’s happened and be fine.
The big climax fight in the finale just HAPPENS. The plot armor literally comes bursting through the wall and yanks Knuckles out of the plot for way too long and we only get TRUE and INCREDIBLE Movie Knuckles action (his fire fists which were insane btw) in the last 5 minutes and it only lasted like 2 of those 5 minutes.
Overall, it’s not entirely unwatchable but it’s not worth a majority of people’s time. You don’t need this for movie 3 so if you wanna skip it - I’d recommend that. If you really watch though, I’d only say watch the first episode and the finale and just google the context for what’s in between bc eps 2-5 are total slogs after a while.
If you like silly dumb fun - this is the show for you. But it’s not the show many Sonic fans may have wanted or expected.
I’m not angry or anything like many people have been. It’s not worth getting angry over. I’m moreso just disappointed because I can see a good show about Knuckles hidden in there. They just opted to give more time into Wade for whatever reason.
Just an overall let down imo.
Knuckles deserved better❤️
#i was so bored half the time ughhhh#i felt so bad but guys#it just wasnt worth it#anyways movie 3 save me save me movie 3#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#knuckles series#sonic movie#sonic movie 2#sonic movie 3#sonic movie spoilers#knuckles spoilers#knuckles series spoilers
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Rowing Pair - Part Two | Don Hume
Don Hume x Original Character
Hi! This is definitely not super edited and maybe a little rushed, but I wanted to post something so here we are! Enjoy part two of Rowing Pair! More to come from Allie and Don...
Part one here!
...
Don gets a little courage after the Huskies' first win.
...
The early morning breeze is chilly coming off the water. Rowing practice is in full swing, and Allie is standing with the other coaches. Bundled up in a thick sweater, her arms are crossed for more than one reason. Ulbrickson paces the length of the Varsity boat, shaking his head,
“34 strokes. You’re fine at 34 strokes. Anything higher and you fall apart. 34 strokes, you don’t beat Cal. 34 strokes, you don’t win at Poughkeepsie. You certainly don’t get to Germany. You know who you beat with 34 strokes?”
He throws his arm out, pointing with his notebook. “The JV boat. Maybe,” he says, turning to the JV crew lounging on the dock. “What are you guys waiting for? Get back in the boat.”
Scrambling to their feet, the younger crew hustles back into their shell. The last few days of practice had not gone well for either team. The Varsity crew was looking worse by the day, and the JV boat wasn’t coming together as they should. Another hour passes with the rowing shells making their way up and down the channel. No one is happy with the progression of the day. The coaches are climbing out of the motorboat, waiting for the two row boats to finish floating in.
Allie looks to Ulbrickson,
“Permission to speak candidly, sir?”
Al gives her a curt nod.
“I don’t think Glenn is a good fit for the boat, they need someone with more fire. There’s a lot of energy to wrangle in that shell, and I don’t think he can do it.”
Al’s eyebrows raise in interest, “Okay, then who would you suggest?”
“You know who.”
That statement gets Allie a pointed look from Ulbrickson without hesitation,
“We’ll talk about it later.”
The next practice, Bobby Moch strutted down the dock and straight into the cox seat of the JV shell. Three practices later, they were rowing like a well-oiled machine. Allie stood next to Ulbrickson and Bolles, watching from the dock. Allie couldn’t help the smug smile trying to break its way onto her face.
“Better?” she asked Al, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her heels.
That got her another pointed look, but this time followed by a small smile.
“Better.”
...
“They’re catching up!”
Joyce’s voice rings out amongst the cheering crowd, her hand gripped tightly in Allie’s. Their eyes trained on the two boats making their way through the water, even from far away, they can tell Washington is slowly making their way alongside the Cal boat.
Allie declined Pocock’s invitation to watch along the shore of the finish line, instead choosing to watch the race with Joyce on one of the observation boats. She clearly made the better choice with how invigorating it was to her and feel the crowd cheer around them. Allie and Joyce were only one of many yelling at the top of their lungs as Washington surged past the halfway point, swiftly passing the waning Cal crew.
“Oh, you’ve done it now, Bobby,” Allie mutters under her breath.
Bobby gives the opposing coxswain a taunting wave as they push ahead. The Washington crew's speed began building and paired with a synchronized technique, they were pulling away. Each crew member strained with each row of their oars, and their chests heaved. The crowd’s volume surged, and the announcer began shouting through the intercom as Washington pulled further ahead. Approaching the finish line, they were ahead by a full boat. Closer and closer to the finish line, pushing themselves to the limit.
“And there’s the flag! Washington has done it!”
Allie and Joyce grab each other once again, jumping in joy with their arms around each other. Joyce exclaiming,
“They did it! They really did it!”
As they glide to a stop, splashing surrounds the winning crew as they celebrate. They’re all damp by the time they come to a stop, with huge smiles on their faces. Don shakes hands with Bobby before looking up into the crowd. Catching eyes with Allie, his smile widens as he excitedly waves in her direction. Allie laughs at Don’s excitement, sending back a small wave and a massive grin.
…
The party was in full swing by the time Allie arrived, and she stood outside for a few moments trying to get her bearings. She was practically shoved out of Ulbrickson’s office an hour ago with a promise from Tom that they were done reviewing footage for the night. Allie was still standing outside, nervously smoothing out her dark green dress when Bobby’s smiling face appeared in the doorway. His jacket had already been abandoned somewhere; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Leaning on the propped open door, he spoke,
“Scared to come in?”
Allie shook her head, “No, it’s just weird because I’m late and coming in alone.”
Bobby clicked his tongue, making his way down the steps to her with his hands tucked in his pockets. “It’s not weird, I’ll go in with you. This party is just as much for you as it is for us.”
She didn’t move, just giving Bobby a nervous glance. Bobby’s expression softens,
“Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway. Ulbrickson told me that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and that I wasn’t an option until you suggested me. So, thank you. I’m really happy to be back on the team.”
Allie hadn’t known Bobby long, but they had become close over the summer. While he was strong-headed and liked to act on his own fruition, he always valued Allie’s opinion. She was stunned when he was removed from the crew. Unfortunately, Ulbrickson had used Bobby’s punishment to teach the crew a lesson. Everyone is replaceable, he had said. That’s why he was so hesitant to bring him back and eat his own words.
“I’m really glad you’re back too, Bobby. It wasn’t the same without you.”
Allie meant it. Bobby brought out more in the JV team than he ever could have with the varsity team, and the potential was building.
Bobby knocked his shoulder against hers, flashing Allie a cheeky smile, “Come on, time to let loose. I bet you can get some schmuck in there to dance with you in the first five minutes!”
Allie smiled softly, shaking her head, “Oh, maybe I’ll just watch. I don’t want to dance with just anybody.”
Before she finishes her sentence, the coxswain is already nudging her towards the door encouragingly, “Well I’ll dance with you if you don’t see anyone who passes the test. Although I might have a suggestion or two myself on who to go for.”
His hand is firm on her back as they break through the doorway. Allie glances around, looking for another familiar face. She spots Don almost immediately, sitting on a bench alone with his hands tucked in his pockets. His cute little frown painted across his face. He hadn’t noticed her yet.
“There might be one good one in this bunch, but I might take you up on that offer later,” Allie gives Bobby a small smile, glancing away from Don before Bobby could catch on. Little did she know, Bobby already had plans in motion. While he couldn’t confirm her crush on Don, he sure could confirm Don’s crush on Allie. Having caught on to Don’s puppy dog eyes at practice the week prior, Bobby was determined for Don to make a move after their maiden win. There was no better time.
In the center of the room, couples were dancing to the big band music flowing through the speakers with others sitting at tables that hugged the sides of the room. Allie finds Joyce and Joe sitting close at a small table and notices Shorty slipping off outside with one of Joyce’s roommates. Noticing Allie, Joyce waves her over, gushing about how great she looks. Bobby dashes into action, scrambling through the crowd to Don. Joyce would hold Allie off for a few minutes, she was a talker just like he was. Bobby slides down the bench, settling beside his teammate.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Don shrugs, “I’m watching.”
Bobby glances around, Allie is still talking to Joyce. Good. “Why aren’t you talking to anybody?”
“I’m not much of a talker,” Don replies. His hands are still shoved into his pockets, no intention of moving.
“Oh.” Bobby nods, “Well, look over there. See her?” Motioning in the direction of Allie, who has now glanced up and caught the pair talking. Don balks, catching eyes with Allie and swiftly looking away, straight ahead. His throat is dry, and he blinks, “Y-yeah, I see her.”
“Allie said to me that she wasn’t going to dance with just anybody. Now, I’ve offered to dance with her if she doesn’t want to dance with anyone else but…,” Bobby turns in towards Don for emphasis. “Listen, Hume. Tonight, not tomorrow night, or next week. Tonight is your best shot.”
A beat passes, and Bobby thinks he’s convinced him.
“You go on. I think I’m okay.”
Bobby could smack Don Hume upside the head in an instant. “Christ sake,” he mutters, glancing again between Don and Allie. Don nods his head in quick succession, confirming he’s not changing his mind. Yeah, he and Allie had talked a good bit, and he had walked her to her dorm a few times after practice, but she had only kissed him on the cheek once. There’s no way that Allie liked him, he thought. He felt like she was just that nice to everyone. Defeated, Bobby huffs again, looking around the room. All the other guys were dancing with a girl. Well, Johnny and Roger were dancing together, but Bobby could still count that as dancing with someone.
A lightbulb goes off in his head, and before he could think again, Bobby shoots off the bench and towards the stage. Quickly cutting the music off, he steps up to the microphone.
“Hey, listen up!”
The crowd stops dancing and turns to the commotion on stage, Allie included.
“We got a musician in our midst. With a little encouragement, we might just get him to give us some live music. Don Hume! Get up here. Get up here!”
The crew rushes around Don and despite his protests, they drag him up by his arms and carry him towards the stage. As they’re settling him down around the piano, Bobby motions to Chuck, quietly telling him to go find Allie and to bring her upfront. Chuck dashes off, racing through the crowd before finding the young girl towards the back of the room. She gives him an odd look when he stops abruptly in front of her, slightly winded from his frantic search.
“Moch is requesting that you come up front,” Chuck makes a grand gesture of holding his arm out for her to take, which she does hesitantly. Bobby had something in play, and she was suspicious. In a way, Bobby thought that above all else, if he could get both Don and Allie to let loose with a little fun and music, then he could call his plan a partial success. He hoped, however, that Don’s little performance might give him some courage. Don settles in at the piano and looks out to the crowd, just as Allie steps into place between Bobby and Chuck.
He forces himself not to freak out with Allie front and center. He glances back at the piano then back to Bobby, then to Allie. She looked beautiful. Her hair is down, blonde curls falling down her shoulders, and right then and there, Don decides that dark green is his new favorite color. Her full attention is on him, and for those few seconds, he felt like he was in heaven. Tearing himself away, he turns to the piano fully and takes a few deep breaths. This is it, he thought.
Before he can second guess himself, he starts off the first tune that comes to mind- the same tune that Allie had been humming to herself at practice. Don played the first few notes and Allie broke out into a huge smile, recognizing the tune immediately. Soon everyone was dancing and singing along with the JV crew singing the loudest. Enamored with Don’s newfound confidence, Allie could hardly look away even with Bobby, Chuck, and Roger taking turns twirling her around every so often.
They could dance and sing all night, but as Don plays the final notes and the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts in cheers. For a few moments, Don takes in the cheers and applause before he turns to the crowd and bows his head, looking up with a smug smirk. Quite the opposite of his usual shy smile. Allie catches his gaze when he looks up. She’s hooked the second they lock eyes. She almost feels dizzy when Don’s smug smirk is accompanied by a quick wink in her direction. A deep blush rushes to her face, her lip taut between her teeth. Now, she’s the one in heaven.
When Don descends from the stage, he’s greeted by more celebration from the boys grabbing him up and patting him on the back with each telling him how great of a job he did. Others from the crowd doing the same. Allie stood aside, waiting her turn to congratulate him after all the boys did. Once the crowd had settled down, Don finally turned to Allie.
“That was amazing! You were amazing!”
Someone must’ve turned the big band music back on and turned the volume up because Don could barely hear what Allie was saying. All he could tell was that she was excited and had a huge smile on her face, his smile mirrored hers. He shook his head, raising his voice,
“What?”
She tried repeating herself, but between the music and the crowd they were stuck in the middle of, neither could hear each other. Allie huffs after another failed attempt and grabs Don by the hand. Dragging Don behind her, much like a lost puppy, Allie makes her way outside where it is quieter. Once they make it outside and she doesn't feel the need to yell, Allie turns to Don,
“Geez, It’s too loud in there after all that. I have been trying to say that your performance was amazing and you’re amazing! Where did you learn to play?”
“I’ve been playing since I was little,” Don shrugs, a smile still stuck on his face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. That was a lot of fun, but uh don’t tell Bobby I said that. He’ll be dragging me up on stage at every party.”
Allie laughs, “I promise I won’t tell Bobby.”
A few beats of silence fall between them as they just take each other in. An idea spurs in Don’s head. The music from inside can be heard softly from their spot on the top landing of the steps just outside the doors.
“Do you want to dance? It’s too loud in there, but it’s not so bad out here.”
Allie nods eagerly, “I’d love to.”
Softly taking her hand in his, Don gently pulls Allie in towards him. Swaying gently to the music, neither of them breaks their comfortable silence for a few moments. Resting her head on his collar, the pair are closer than ever. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling in her stomach, Allie is the first to speak up. “You did really great today, Don. You and the whole crew. I have a good feeling about this year.”
“Thank you, today felt good. It was fun,” Don replies. “It felt nice to have someone there cheering me on too. I’d win every race if it meant you were at the finish line.”
“Well,” Allie smiles bashfully, looking up at Don, “Don’t go around telling the crew I have a favorite. They’ll all get jealous.”
Don chuckles, “I won’t tell.”
Even in the dim lighting, the two are fighting off a blush, hoping the other won't see. To distract them both, Don steps back and raises his arm, letting Allie twirl in place a few times. Her soft giggle fills his ears as her dress flares slightly, making Don smile. His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s saying it to himself,
“You look beautiful.” A beat passes. “You always do.”
Allie’s breath gets caught in her throat, as Don pulls her back to him. Her voice is equally as quiet when she looks up at him and replies,
“Thank you.” Allie hesitates after finishing her sentence, trying to find the courage for her next words. “Don, I-“
She can barely get Don’s name out before a familiar voice rings out,
“Hey, lovebirds! Might want to come back inside, they just brought out a cake with all our names on it!”
Huffing at Bobby’s rude interruption, Allie steps away from Don slightly, who rolls his eyes at the coxswain. He wants to pull Allie back to him as she steps away. He keeps their hands connected, but his eyebrows are furrowed, “You were saying?”
Allie shakes her head, smiling softly, “It can wait, let’s get inside.”
…
Eeekkk! I couldn't decide if things were going to go further, but I'm feeling a slow burn for this one. More chapters to come!
#don hume#boys in the boat#don hume x oc#don hume x original character#don x alllie#jack mulhern#don hume x reader
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one underrated thing that I feel like I haven't seen people mention in all of this is getting a lil sheet with their handwriting 😭 Am I just crazy? I love that kind of stuff!
Some thoughts on that below if you're interested or want to see it idk
I'm no analyzer or anything, but look at Leo's! I love how his handwriting is just a bit... messy? It's still written very clearly and legible but just kinda looks like he writes fast. I mean, he probably does 😅 And I love that it goes out of the box sometimes just on the edges! I really like how he writes his 5's also but that's mostly just cuz that's how mine look
Mao's looks a lot more straight by comparison! I like that he starts the lines in the last three boxes on the left edge (notice how Leo started sorta in the middle) and how he wrote his birthday with the month and day characters instead of only numbers. And his writing seems a bit smaller too. I feel like it obviously makes sense for him to be a bit neater
With the newer characters it's a bit harder cuz we don't really know them yet, but I feel like what we have is enough to kinda guess (on some of them, at least) I'm not too sure about Esu, but his cute compass drawing?? He kinda writes like Mao but his letters are a lot more crammed and less neat
For Ibuki though, I feel like this says a lot! The thick marker? Big writing, and he goes out of the box quite a bit. I also didn't realize he wrote "smile" at the top, I couldn't read it at first 😅. Based on this I'd say he seems really bold and confident (he gave those vibes away just by how he looks tho) Also I love his lil star in his signature, so cute!
Kanna is (as we already know) very neat! His handwriting looks so nice. Good spacing, straight lines. It looks pretty fancy. I also think it's fun that he also has a thicker pen/marker, I don't know what that says about him but his writing definitely looks really nice
And Yume's is so cute!! The round letters, and so many hearts 💕 His signature is so fun! And look at how many hashtags he put in the box. I can't wait to read his stories, the fact that he's a cosplayer is fun, I hope his stories talk more about what he likes to cosplay
And Raika's!! I love the way his letters trail off a bit at times and get kinda stuck together. And it looks like he wrote kinda smaller and more cramped to fit in the box more. Again, idrk what that means for him but I'm excited to see what he'll be like! He seems a bit self-conscious to me but I can't really tell yet.
#ensemble stars#enstars#mao isara#leo tsukinaga#esu sagiri#ibuki taki#kanna natsu#fuyume hanamura#raika hojo
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It gets talked about a lot but I still can't stop nerding out about Link's characterization in TotK. It's done through his many creative dialogue choices and his expressions of course, but it's also done so subtly through what he *doesn't* say. Notably, he doesn't talk about himself. And this is why nobody recognizes him unless they've already met him. Because he doesn't tell them when they've got the wrong impression of him.
The meme about Link having Tony Hawk syndrome is so real. People will look at him and straight up say, "Wow, you look exactly like Link!" without a hint of irony. Lookout Landing has a detailed picture of his face in their watchtower and the search party still doesn't recognize him. Penn works with Link for a long time and thinks he's unlucky that the Yiga keep "mistaking" him for the Hero (granted, Traysi asked him to deliberately keep quiet, but Penn still didn't put two and two together himself). I think the reason for this, aside from it being really, really funny, is that Link just doesn't talk about himself. He doesn't feel the need to.
Characterization isn't just about what we see a character doing, it's also about how other characters respond to them. Link is so unassuming and humble that he doesn't match people's expectations of what "Link" should be like. The three Gerudo ladies hanging out around Outskirt Stable are one of many perfect examples. Link stands in front of them carrying the Master Sword, but they expect the Hero to be taller than they are, with a giant glowing sword, so they don’t believe it's him. Obviously that's not the reality, but they don't know that. Link doesn't correct them, either. Again, he doesn't feel the need to.
This is also why many NPCs from BotW don't recognize or remember Link. To them, he was just a passerby that did them a good turn once 6+ years ago. Nobody's going to remember a person like that for so long after. They had no way of knowing he was the Hero, unless it came up for story quest reasons. When they hear stories about the Princess's Appointed Knight who woke up from his 100 year nap, defeated the Calamity, and rescued Zelda, they imagine someone larger than life. Then when they see what Link actually is like, they can't put two and two together.
This is true even during the Hyrule Restoration efforts. Link always follows behind Zelda as her shadow, which she notes in her diary, but the people in the stable investigation quests and in Hateno don't recognize him either, even though he went everywhere she did. Link is just that unassuming. He resigns himself to being a shadow, allowing Zelda to take the lead and do as she pleases but always staying nearby to support and protect her. He doesn't need to be recognizable to do his job. And we know from both BotW and now TotK that he's wholly devoted to her. He's content with this. Many people more eloquent than I have spent many paragraphs elaborating on this. I just wanted to focus on what it says about his character.
Link is humble and unassuming, so much so that nobody believes that he's the Hero unless they already know him. He's devoted to Zelda, so much so that he's willing to do anything to chase even a glimpse of her. He doesn't talk about himself or correct people who have the wrong impression of him. He doesn't need to do that to chase his Zelda. He is a person of great humility in spite of his station. I think that's so interesting and neat how the comedy of him being unrecognizable also tells us all this about him. It's also cool how this is only one aspect of him; all the dialogue choices and expressions he makes during cutscenes and actions out in the world show a whole other, lighter side to him that meshes with this. It's all so good. I am in love with it. It always kills me inside when people dismiss his characterization as being nonexistant or flat just because it's not spoonfed to them or when they say Link being unrecognizable is lazy writing instead of a deliberate choice. I am biting and gnawing and gnashing over him and his relationship to Zelda. I love them so much.
#legend of zelda#tears of the kingdom#zelda theory#link#this was swirling in my brain cuz i just started replaying totk i had to jot it down#this game is peak fiction. my favorite of all time.
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Soery if this isnt related to br or something
What are your main japanese songs (if you have any)
That can either relate for the two gay characters?
SAY NO MORE FELLAS!
Wowaka by Unknown Mother Goose - SMG4 redesign
Four deals with his struggles at being Perfect.
Rolling Girl by Miku Hatsune - SMG3 recolor/redesign
Three is trying his hardest all the time even after his arc.
The past re-encounters that gave him so much deja vu and all the bad things even tho he tries so many times making it all up with it. He couldn't.
(He does SH and the only way for him to think about is dying- yet Four prevents him from doing that)
Kokoro by Rin ft. Len Kagamine (duet) - SMG34
Four as the robot and Three... well... is the professor. (For those who heard the duet song you will understand that)
Vivi by kenshi yonezu - SMG3
Three slips away from Four and even ends up mising him even more.
Orange by 96Neko - SMG4
Three dies. Four is there to stay and cherish all the moments he and Three had made from their times, now he always visits his grave. Four finally moves on and Three could only say "goodbye"
Sigh by Rin Kagamine - SMG4
Four doesn't know why he was always sad, turns out his long dead-forgotten friend appeared as an angel to return the smiles he had missed.
Kokoronashi by Hikaru Station - SMG3
Three suffers at himself and well finds it hard to deal with emotions...
Knife by [vocaloids i fgt] - SMG4
Short straight [if you know and heard this song]
Four avenge Three's death after Niles killed him
Therefore You and Me by Eve ft. 38ban - SMG34
Ever long lasting slow burn. Recolored - redesign
Ikanaide (Don't Go) by Mafumafu - SMG3
From Recolor to 1st-2nd Redesign
Three's villain role is out of his hands now that he became a tritagonist. However he still looks out for SMG4 even after everything...
But somedays when he and Four get into basic arguements he still fears that one day he would stop talking to him and that he would rather hang out much to his friends.
That Four might eventually forget about what he had just done something good to him.
The Lost One's Weeping ft. Kagamine Rin - SMG4
Redesign vs. Recolor.
Four would recall his past about his senior high where he never understood nothing and the self comparisson between him and the rest of the students are highly at this rate.
It triggered him so much that he never wanted to get back to it, he is only recalling this from his vision - seen as his memories until he sees his recolored version telling him that he already made the decision and that there is nothing else he could do.
Nonsense Speaker by Miku Hatsune - SMG3
Smg3 even tho if he was a tsundere... he still has thoughts about his relationship with four... and the events they both shared if he'd still even see himself as the past or look into his bright self again.
Kagerou Days by Shizen no Teki ft. Miku Hatsune - SMG3
Basic timeloop
Three tried so many times to prevent four from dying with his self hatred side. Yet. He was the one to die at the end.
Racing Into The Night by YOASOBI - SMG4
Four didn't know why three was sad. (They both felt all sad and stuff-)
So when three said he wanted to die- four did too.
Suki Kirai (Like-Dislike) by Rin and Len - SMG34
YOU KNOW A SUN X MOON DYNAMIC ALREADY ITS OBVIOUS.
Feathers Across the Seasons by Kagamine Rin and Len - SMG3
Smg4 was the mysterious feather being
Three is the diseased human person.
Bonus for other characters:
@shygirl4991 @alianarepasa
High Range ft. Kagamine Len - Heart 3
It kinda does fit for Heart since he does use his fem voice not quite often
I'll Quit Singing ft. Kagamine Len - Book 3
Nothing else I just like to think that book plays with a piano
The World is Mine by Miku Hatsune - Spade 3
SPADE SINGING THIS? YES. YES I DID.
(ITS CANON BECAUSE HIS PERSONALITY TRAIT SAID SO)
The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku - Producer4
What huh personality disappearance? Yes.
Daughter of Evil by Kagamine Rin - Delinquent4
Servant of Evil by Len Kagamine Len - Producer4
I think you kmow this story already. Hehe.
#smg4#smg34#smg3#smg4 smg3#lizaluv#bonus#six split for four#split six for fours#six splits for fours#split into threes!#split into three!#split into threes#split to threes!#shygirl4991#alianrepasa
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Hi. Phew no anon I'm sweating rn (pardon the typos btw)
I just read SM in one sitting, (on a long car ride) and I just wanted to expressive the love I have for your writings and the characters you've so meticulously crafted.
The pacing of the story is absolutely perfect. Fast enough to keep readers engaged, and slow enough to create tension and highlight the big steps in the development of the relationship
If it's alright, I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the story and the characters? If not, feel free to stop reading and delete this ask. But if you want to read, I've written some of my thought below.
First off, Bun.
You've created such a well rounded character with Bun. She has so many qualities that may seem the contradict each other, but they really just make her a foil for everyone around her. She emphasizes the traits of those around her by constantly adapting to constrast her present company, as a safety measure. If she's different, she never fits in. If she never fits in, people can't get close to her.
They won't know her if they're not close, and therefore she can't be hurt by them. So, whether subconsciously or not, she becomes the opposing force to each and every person she meets, as a way of maintaining distance.
She is the reality to Philips delusion, the sanity, to his psychoticism. She's gives the hard work to cover her coworkers slacking, she's the determination to their apathy. She's the paranoia in the places where everyone else feels safe. She's lonely in the face of such overpowering unity, in the face of family and love. She's the flushed cheeks that are the result of Johnny's blunt flirting. She's the cowering child in the arms of a battle-hardened man, and she's torn herself apart trying to rationalize her own existence after everything she's been through.
I kind of imagine she's like the mirror she thinks so much about. She's was once a stunning piece of beautiful craftsmanship, a big panel of glass with perfectly straight edges, an intricate gold-gilded frame, a shimmering silver surface, the centerpiece of every room she's in. Her smarts, her wit, her charm always reflecting rays of light onto the world around her. She was incredible, until she wasn't. Someone broke the nails that held her up, and she shattered into a million pieces.
Everyone she meets gets a piece, but no one has the whole picture. Everyone has a different piece, which means she's not the same to any two people. She's a spitfire to Phillip, a soft and sweet bunny to the boys, a motivated worker to her colleagues, and to herself? A collection of jagged shards, and she cuts up her hands trying to rid herself of the pieces she can't afford to keep. Pieces of her past life and her past self.
Moving on,
I really appreciate the more intricate characterization of all your characters, but especially Simon. It's a lovely change to see a perspective of Simon from the other side of the tunnel, so to speak. Not only is it refreshing to see him able to process his emotions so healthily, but it's quite thought provoking as well. It's engaging to see him as a someone who coexists with his trauma, rather than railing against it. Allowing himself to finally accept that it's part of who he is, but not all of him. Seeing him turn something that was once a crippling weakness, into strength, is so cool. I think it's an interesting reflection of his physical prowess, onto his mental state. Showing that his strength is not exclusive to his body, but that it extends to his mind as well.
Also, the way he utilizes the knowledge he gained from past hardships to help Bun?? Such a stark difference from his usual actions in fics, but somehow still perfectly in character for him. Very "Simon-esque" if you will.
I also just read your personal update, the one about the Winter-to-Spring transition. I really hope this doesn't sound patronizing, but I want you to know how strong and talented you are. You seem steadfast in your self identity and I really admire that. Not to mention how incredible of a storyteller you are. Your work gives me motivation and inspiration to keep writing, so that hopefully mine can be as beautiful as yours someday :)
I also wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your work and appreciate you sharing your experiences. I am not (don't have?) bipolar, but I do struggle with other mental illnesses, and your post really made me feel better about the stability of my own future.
Which made me wonder, do you think you drew inspiration from your own experiences in order to create your Simon? I just saw some similarities in the way you both have begun to use your knowledge of hardship to assist others. Maybe it was subconscious? Or maybe it was purely coincidental? Either way, I think both you and your Simon are amazing for doing so.
Thank you for writing and sharing and just being a positive presence on here. I'm so so glad I found your account, and I'm excited to read any future works you release :)
Also, care of yourself and remember that you don't owe anyone on Tumblr anything. It's your writing and you should write and post only when you feel up to it <3
I’ve spent a few days trying to figure out how to answer this and haven’t come up with an super effective strategies so I’m just going to:
First thanks so much for taking the time to type this out and send it to me. I really appreciate it and you, and I’m thrilled you’re enjoying Simple Math!
I think your mirror synopsis is pretty on point, Bunny is a million different pieces of a shattered mirror, all trying to reflect different parts. She’s complicated. She’s not herself, and that’s still something she’s trying to learn. She’s also very traumatized which explains the reasoning behind why she has done and may do some things.
I’ve talked about this before but Simon in Simple Math is really my dream for his character. He’s emotionally regulated and mature, he’s patient, he’s kind, he’s been through years and years of therapy. He recognizes his trauma but he doesn’t let it hold such a grip anymore. Of course, the situation with Bun brings up painful memory and feelings, but he’s stable and secure enough to recognize and process those feelings. He’s a family man. I love him, but I don’t think I draw anything from my personal life as I write him.
As a note to your comment about the stability of your future: I’m glad you could find some comfort in that post and I know everything feels really difficult sometimes, especially when you’re struggling, but things can even out and get better. When I was younger I didn’t believe I’d have a future, and if you had told me “it gets better!” I would have laughed in your face and launched into some long spiel trying to shut you down. But… it does. Things can get better and become stable. It takes time.
Thank you so much for reading!
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Silly anon how can silver be homophobic if he likes men? /j
sillier anon hes straight have t u heard! /JJJJ
#i say this as a cope#also because itd be really funny of there was just 1 strsight person#out of the whole ii cast#including alternate reality show and the joiners in s1#SO MANY CHARACTERS AND HES THE ONLY STRAIGHT ONE#do u see my vision yet#in a world where being gay is the norm and straight is a minority....
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Hi hello, I was struggling with my Spooktober challenge, but wanted to draw something today, so I ended up with this:
He is Very Shape, so I had to lmao (I don't draw animals much, so it was a bit tricky, but hope it came out okay!)
Also, terkkuja toiselta suomalaiselta, meikäläisiin törmää niin harvoin :D
.
#oh no the boy#he looks like his soul is about to leave his body#what goes on behind those saucer eyes I wonder#the horrors it's gotta be the horrors#the shading and lighting are absolutely delicious!#so many good hues and shades#the orange purple and magenta#I use cool colors so rarely (practically never) so it's straight up ~weird~ seeing Machete with a blue color palette#but it works it makes him look even more out of sorts than average#I'm liking all the sharp angles on his ears#oh and the lone strand of fur between them! I draw that too!#I find it terribly flattering when I get gift art from people who say they don't draw furries/animals very often#because if they're willing to venture outside their comfort zone like that it must mean they really truly like the character#I only draw human characters under extreme and unusual circumstances I know how daunting it can be#to switch from a familiar subject to a more foreign one like that#so I see the effort you put into the piece and I appreciate it!#gift art#lumilasi#own characters#Machete#kanssasuomalainen! virtuaalinen yläfemma o/
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Karen: LMAO every guy I meet reminds me of my big brothers that's so funny except if Paul is already my brother and you're also a brother that's a bit awkward, huh
Hot bartender: THATS MOVING REALLY FAST AND I LIKE YOU AS A PERSON BUT -
Karen: having my brothers date would be SO WEIRD
Hot bartender: Well on the bright side I literally cannot speak more than five words to him so we aren't dating because he's so cute
(Everyone else: that is somehow the most depressing bright side we never want to hear)
#my characters#oops i fell in love#I just think its really funny how i view so many of the cast as either the only child or#somehow still the only child but with twin cousins that he grew up with somewhat like siblings but is older than them#and then THESE TWO LOSERS (beloveds) are definitely younger siblings#there is no way Karen developed her personality without the help of older brothers#there is also a very funny and agonizing thing where she is super single cause she can't view a guy as more than a brother#she meets an asshole and is like wow just getting huge brother vibes from him wtf#and meets the nicest man possible and is like HOW IS HE ALSO LIKE A BROTHER I WILL NEVER LOVE ROMANTICALLY#and she has all of the guy friends and its very clear if they were interested she has long since friendzoned them#but its fine because they all are also convinced that shes exactly what it would be like to have a brother#so its fine its all good no one really agonizes over not romancing her and she just as a found family in everyone#hi my name is salmon and you may recall my feheroes experience where i want to give a certain male all of the siblings#the sibling adopter extraordinaire ? yeah thats basically karen now that i think about it#you know one time at work at my first job there was a girl who had a crush on a guy and we all worked the same shift a lot#and one day she was whining because he was so friendly to me and he looks at the girl straight faced and says#ITS BROS BEFORE HOES aint that right and im like uh huh sure thats exactly right#and later i told him i really wanted to know where she went wrong because i had a crush on him in school until he opened his mouth#and hes like yeah sucks to wanna date me you made the right choice#and i just ..... will never forget that weird guy#he saw me in a hoodie once and goes NO WAY I HAVE THE SAME ONE and then makes sure he brings it in next time we work together to prove it#he was like an annoying younger brother to me and i thought it was very funny that apparently i too am a sibling to him#i might be adopted and i might be biased but i think everyone could use an adopted sibling that they dont live with#thats a special bond ok im just sayin#also sorry its so late tonight i had some uhhhhhh problems haha
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the ones only loving richie after season two are weak and boring. Oh no, he was a flawed individual, angry, argumentative, reactive when coming from a place of fear and yeah, sometimes he was just a dick and a not a sweet cinnamon roll. But that's what makes him human, no? Everyone has shades to them. No one is 100% good or bad. We all do the wrong thing sometimes and self sabotage. That's where the journey comes in to see him grow and in his own time. Why do characters have to be deemed "good and moral" from day one to be accepted? And instantly loved once they have their "journey arc".
#so many tags on my sets saying 'oh i hated him in season one but love him now!'#like he wasn't some straight up villain and immoral person from the get go#we saw his heart and ability to be a good person and father but he was just lost and needed to have his 'aha!' moment#he had to change some behaviours and relearn some things for himself#this trend of wholesome pure characters only being worthy is so tiring....#🙄#plus he was literally iconic from the pilot with his recycling speech
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