#but at this point I'm reverting back to writing for me
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To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part
Azriel x reader
Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate
Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut
@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3
The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.
Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.
Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.
His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.
Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.
***
"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.
"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.
Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"
She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"
Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.
"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.
***
Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.
"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.
"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"
Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.
***
All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?
Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.
The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.
He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.
A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.
She was a goddess.
She was the fulfilment of his dreams.
She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.
She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.
He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.
He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.
He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.
Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.
Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.
Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.
Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.
Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.
"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?
"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.
"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.
Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.
He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.
"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.
Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.
His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.
He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.
He watched as her lifeless body lay there.
Still.
The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?
Why?
Why?
Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.
Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.
He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.
Mate.
She was his mate.
He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.
Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.
Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.
His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.
The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.
His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.
A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.
His mate.
Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.
He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.
Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.
Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.
His mate.
His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?
The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.
The fates had known.
This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.
If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.
Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.
He was damned. His fate was unlucky.
He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.
Without even realising his shadows had left him too.
"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.
Lyra
If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.
A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.
***
If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart
If only he had known.
Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.
Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.
Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.
Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.
Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.
Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.
....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that
->Masterlist <-
tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo
@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial
#berrywrites#azriel angst#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x oc#azriel x reader angst#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#acotar series#azriel fanart#acotar azriel#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadow singer x y/n#azriel spymaster#acosf#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar x reader
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I've spoken briefly about this before and, again, it's usually something I leave in the little details of Charlotte's portrayal, but it's really been on my mind lately so I wanted to write out some of the prominent traits that continue to establish that, despite having gradually accumulated more experience, capital, and property over the years, Charlotte remains coded as working-class. It is crucial to both the narrative itself and her actual existence as a vessel for the primordial void, also known as Khaos. This means that she still has no ( legal ) credit cards and continues to thrift almost all her belongings, including her clothes, books, and furniture ( with the exception of shoes and appliances.) If you are someone who regularly meets up with Charlotte, you might begin to notice ( if you are perceptive ) that while she may be variably early, right on time, or show up in some unexpected state, she is rarely ever late and certainly never without a legitimate reason as to why. It is also not uncommon for Charlotte to juggle multiple jobs at the same time, and the only time she'll agree to a single job, at the exclusion of all other work is if she knows that that one job will be worth it. Related to this is the fact that Charlotte has a very hard time saying no to job offers; it's a habit ( read: stress response ) she is trying to unlearn, but it continues to be a struggle. Lastly, despite having successfully taken on leadership roles in the past, Charlotte expresses a strong dislike for being consigned to a "boss" role as she still much prefers to be hands on, in the action, at risk rather than sitting back and letting others do the work. She becomes restless if she finds herself "at the top" or in the position of too much obvious power; recall the adage about how it is lonely at the top, and how isolation is not something that the void's vessel can allow. She needs to be among people; she needs to be present to catalyze chaos. That being said, this doesn't mean that Charlotte simply allows herself to be treated or thrown away as a mere lackey or just another body, but that is still part of the struggle, isn't it?
#you'll also notice that char is very smart about the way she stores and maintains what belongings she DOES have#ie. her money her safe“houses” her work equipment#within the bounds of her control - char doesn't go out of her way to destroy or wreck her own stuff#if chaos happens then there's nothing she can do; and other people's stuff is fair game#but her own shit? she takes care of that shit best she can#it ties into the fact that she doesn't have a set or consistent sleep schedule#but for her work she will be up at the crack of dawn if needed; she will be out all night; she will be up and working days on end if needed#she also enjoys working in teams and if you've ever had to have char as a co-worker u'll know she's actually nice to work with#still untrustworthy still chaotic still annoying as fuck - but also nice#she prefers to work with equals rather than take any kind of control over others. control being the other side of the coin to chaos :')#she's also worked such a HUGE myriad of what society considers labour / “entry-level” / “unskilled” jobs...#...in order to learn from an inconspicuous position.#i could go on and on but like i said - i'll leave in the writing#i'm so proud of my chaos goblin#thinking about how at one point in her timeline she worked and played her way all the way to accidentally taking out a crime boss...#....then IMMEDIATELY did a 180 going “nope not for me” and vanished#too lonely at the top and that's no fun for this one :(#( smth smth the fact that she's just a vessel is too ingrained in her sense of self for her to actually stand out and be leader )#( smth smth even pawn-turned-queens revert back to pawns at the end of the game )#and as always - if you actually read through all this IM SO THANKFUL FOR U MWAH <3
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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
Okey dokey.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.
The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.
Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.
A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.
I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.
Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.
Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
It's the only way to get anything done, currently.
The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".
It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.
There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.
Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)
The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.
Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.
Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.
I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.
Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?
You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.
To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.
I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.
Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.
I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.
The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.
The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.
---
So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.
Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.
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Ngl, Seven's special was very disappointing :( I just want MC to be loved and cherished without their ROs making them so insecure. Even G and Vic made MC feel important and loved, like they belonged together. And in Seven's it felt like MC didn't fit into their live anymore.
I guess my answer is spoilery so ///
I respect your perspective but I don't think I agree tbh I think Seven making the effort not to be the same overwhelming, intense person they were for their relationship's sake is trying to fit them in their life. Seven could easily revert back to their old ways and become even worse since they lost MC once, I can't imagine Seven being a healthy person to be with due to their intensity. Present Seven trying to be like their old self would probably be far too codependent and extreme out of their fear of losing MC.
The other ROs are making sure MC feels loved and important but they're not fundamentally changing themselves for MC. Seven is going against their nature and their personality to make sure they're a healthier version of themself for MC. And I'm not trying to be like kissing Seven's ass but it's hard to compare ROs who have never had a past relationship with MC to an RO who had one, fell out, and hated them for three years. It's just not as easy and it doesn't feel realistic to me to make it easy. I could've written a short full of fluff and I tried but it felt disingenuous and wasn't what I wanted to do lolol
It's also a non-canon short story that is written with an insecure MC. The point you're supposed to focus on is the message of the story as a hint for the route but everything else is written because it made it easier to convey that message. So MC being insecure isn't a canon thing, it's a Amy-felt-like-writing-mc-that-way thing lol
If you're worried, just reread the last line! You'll get what you're hoping for I promise lolol
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marketing ploy - ln4 ch7
Lando recovers. McLaren and Red Bull own up. Olivia and Lando decide the future, and give Oscar a heart attack while doing so. We get our happy ending.
piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating
warnings/notes: hospital visits, mentioned injuries, loopiness from medication, pregnancy/sex jokes, media being bitches, lando going 'guys i gotta keep her' and doing the absolute MOST lmao, this is also TECHNICALLY the last chapter but im gonna write more for olivia and lando most def (also olivia will feature as oscars sister in other fics bc i love her)
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I haven't run in years.
I can feel the burn of the air in my lungs as I force them open, adrenaline making every rib shake as I suck in a breath and force it back out. My shoes slam into the floor of the paddocks, sending jolts up my legs as I whisk my bag over my shoulder and 'just go' as Christian had said. My mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts. What if he was seriously injured? He was able to walk, but he collapsed, was it his legs? Or his ribs? What if it's his back? Or his arms? How long will he be out? Is this a whole-season issue or just a few weeks?
Fuck, I cannot be thinking about this right now.
I sweep the room quickly to make sure I have everything, patting my pockets to check for my phone--which is nestled in the back left pocket of my jeans, before whirling around and out of the room.
Once I'm out of the paddocks and towards the exits, where it opens a bit more, the wind whisks into my skin and bites me as I use one hand to dig through the side pocket to find Lando's car keys. I can't steady my hands, even when I'm trying to control their shake, they just get worse. Whether it's fear or anxiety, I find it plain annoying as I struggle to get the small keychain out of my bag. Lando had driven me here from the hotel and shoved the keys in my bag since he didn't walk in with his bag and didn't want to lose the car keys.
Luckily, he had, because talking to anyone in this state would be a bust. I could feel my attitude snipping at my heart as people shouted my name at me. I couldn't stop. I had to find Lando. I knew what hospital he'd be taken to, I had to get there in one piece.
And it was going to be hard with the fucking media right here.
A few reporters try to follow me, but I'm able to slip through the crowds like water. Once I make it to the parking lot, a woman steps in front of me with her camera held high and I shout.
"Can you fucking move?!" And shove her to the side as I zip out of the lot. Fuck the standards, fucking being polite, I'll ask for forgiveness later. And apologize, probably.
Throwing my bag haphazardly into the car, I follow suit and slam the door. There's time here for me to scream, cry, and rage in semi-private, but I bite back the bubble in my throat, throwing my seatbelt on and turning on the car's engine. I wait no time to slam the car forward into first gear, pulling out of the lot with shaking hands. My hands slip with sweat as I try when I remember his McLaren's manual. Cursing, I force myself to revert back to the car I drove in high school as my hands dance across the car in perfected practice.
Thank god I still have that going for me.
The highway is empty, where I thought there'd be lines of traffic there are only a few sparse cars. I slam the car as hard as it can go, watching the ticking of the speedometer, 50... 60... 70... 80...
I look behind me, merging into the fast lane and gunning it even harder. The car sings, and I feel an odd rush of momentary euphoria.
I hit around 165kpm at some point. The car doesn't even shake, it seemingly glides along with my movements, I hear sirens, I don't know if they're for me but I'm not staying to find out. I press harder, merging to the off-ramp and taking it, barely registering what's around me as I slam on my brakes and slip into the traffic near the hospital.
It feels good to drive like that. Maybe I should get back into racing at some point.
Once the McLaren is parked in a back corner of the hospital lot, I grab my bag, rip myself out of the car, and slam it shut, and triple-check it's locked. I turn and book it into the hospital, trying to breathe steady enough to keep myself from losing my shit. It feels like I can't run fast enough, slipping into the hospital and around people who dodge my clearly rushed pace. I pause in front of a desk, panicked and out of breath when someone comes to my side.
"Hi, honey, who are you lookin' for?" A kind nurse says, her hand finding my arm to apply soothing pressure as she notices the fear in my movements. I thought I was hiding it better than I was, I guess. I take a slow breath and let the shake in my hands come in, no longer holding everything back.
"Lando Norris, he just came in with Formula One?" I ask and the woman nods. She asks to see my ID and I fish out my license and Red Bull card to verify my employment.
"Olivia!" A voice shouts as my items are handed back when I'm cleared, and Jon comes up to my side, pointing at my head.
"You still have your headset on." He says softly and I look him up and down, pointing at him.
"So do you," I say. We pause and fall into soft laughter as I pull the headset down to my neck. Jon takes me by the elbow further into the hospital, out of the view of some of the reporters who try to snap photos of us as they're shoved out by the security. I hadn't even seen them when I made my way inside. Through the winding halls, and down to a smaller section of the hospital, Jon brings me to the door to what I assume is Lando's room.
"He's fine." Jon starts with, which eases me immediately, "He's a bit banged up, they think he might have broken or bruised one of his ribs. He's really out of it, the painkillers made him super loopy. Just a forewarning, he's also been dipping in and out of consciousness so don't be alarmed. It's just the painkillers."
"Is his family here yet?" I ask, looking at the door, and Jon shakes his head no once I look back at him.
"They're driving at normal speeds, so no. I don't wanna know how you got here so fast." He steps forward and knocks. A nurse pops open the door and welcomes us inside, Jon stays back while I make my way to the bedside. Lando's wearing a tee shirt and some loose sports shorts, he looks exhausted. I can see bruising on his legs as I nurse tosses the blanket over him as if trying to hide it from me.
"Here!" She pulls up a chair happily and I thank her as I sit down on it, taking my bag off and setting it on the floor, dropping my headphones in. I sigh, taking Lando's hand and feeling his pulse as if the machine that literally tells me that is lying. It feels good to feel his heart thrum under my skin and I kiss his wrist where the pulsepoint is.
"My girlfrien's not g'nna like you doin' that." Lando tries to take his hand from me, Jon snorting in the doorway. I let go of him and laughed softly, leaning up to brush his hair back from his face, the longer curls sticking to his forehead. He's still got the lines from his helmet and balaclava, and I trace one with my finger as he gives me the nastiest stink eye I've ever seen him muster.
"Hi, Lando." I croon, and he whines, slowly rolling his head to the side.
"I have a girlfriend." He states, poking my hand to push it away from him and I send him an odd look. Jon walks over and I can see he's recording, which makes a small amused smile poke at my lips.
"Lando," I laugh softly and Lando whacks my hands away softly, fighting through the weariness of his pain medication to wave his arms.
"I have a girlfriend." He pouts, laying his hands still at his side. I just laugh again, and Lando shouts in his dreary state, "It's not funny! I do!"
"Shush, shh, Lando." I stand and push my chair back a bit as I stifle my laugh into the back of my hand.
Jon calls from where he stands, attempting to help me not laugh by giving me something new to focus on, "Who's your girlfriend, Lando?"
"Olivia. Oscar's sister, which he was actually not happy about at first but I convinced him I was cool--" Lando keeps rambling on until I lift my hand and cup his cheek, running my thumb under his eye as I speak softly.
"Lando, baby, I am your girlfriend." I put a hand on my chest, "I am Olivia."
Lando blinks, eyes settling on me before he gasps and leans up to grab my face and pull me down for a litter of soft pecks to my cheeks and face. I catch myself on the bed and laugh, catching his lips as he happily grins up at me. It's all doe eyes, lovesick smiles on his lips as he keeps his hands tight on my face.
"Hi, baby." He whispers, bringing me in for another kiss and I detach one of his hands so it can rest by his side. I slowly situate him against the blankets with the help of Jon, and sit a bit closer to the head of the bed so Lando can be close enough to me. He keeps one of his hands in mine and I slowly run my thumb along his knuckles.
"Well, Mr. Norris!" A piercing voice calls, a young woman stepping into the room with a bit of an excited flourish, "You are all set! Jon's gonna look over your scans, specifically for those bruised ribs. We're thinking it'll be about three or four weeks of healing, and he's gonna make that like--workout plan and stuff with your personal doctor."
"Ah, thank you, Doctor." Lando smiles, watching as the doctor hands Jon some papers to look over. She smiles at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes.
"Olivia, right?" She asks and I nod, shaking her outstretched hand.
"I'm glad you made it here, Lando was waiting for you a bit impatiently." She kept her happy smile, rocking from foot to foot, "Kept asking us where you were, or when you'd get here. You've got a good man on your hands here, sweetheart."
"I know." My heart is bursting, "He's shown me that over and over."
--
11 JULY, ENGLAND. ↴
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Thank you once again to @ oliviapiastri for taking care of our #4 and providing the team with love and some pics while he was recovering! Lando is at home now, and our official statement on the accident and other situations this season has been posted on our website.
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mclaren.uk...
OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON SITUATIONS BETWEEN LANDO NORRIS AND OLIVIA PIASTRI THIS SEASON.
WRITTEN BY STEVE ATKINS (M), ON BEHALF OF ZAK BROWN (M), ANDREA STELLA (M), ALICE MCLOUGHLIN (ORBR), ASTRID MARINA (UNAFF.), ADA LUANNE (UNAFF.), CHRISTIAN HORNER (OBRB), AND HIMSELF.
On the 22nd of February this year, Lando Norris (MCLAREN F1 TEAM, DRIVER) and Olivia Piastri (ORACLE RED BULL, HEAD OF ANALYSIS) were pulled into the office of Christian Horner (ORACLE RED BULL, TEAM PRINCIPAL) in Bahrain. A deal was struck between both parties and their corresponding teams to create a fake dating scenario, capitalizing on the tensions between Oracle Red Bull Racing and the McLaren F1 Team to push ticket and merchandising sales. This fake relationship was planned to eventually leak in PR and Social Media Strategy, however, due to Norris' crash in Silverstone, the entire program has been canceled. The program was also discovered by F1 Stewards upon investigation after Olivia's reaction to the accident cemented rumors in the media of the two dating. Both the McLaren F1 Team and Oracle Red Bull are under investigation, and fines are yet to be announced.
Norris and Piastri chose not to be a part of this statement and can be expected to make their own statements in the coming weeks.
On July 9th of this year, Lando Norris was involved in an accident in the pitlane of Silverstone. Engineers have determined this was caused by an overheating of brake lines that didn't allow Norris to stop his vehicle along with worn tires. No fines have been placed at this moment.
Olivia Piastri will return to work with Red Bull remotely immediately and will be in-person by Zandvoort. Lando Norris will return to racing with McLaren by Zandvoort and will be replaced by reserve driver Bianca Bustamente for the time being. Neither Norris nor Piastri will be fined for involvement with the media stunt, or with the accident as of this moment.
20 JULY, LONDON ↴
There’s a sort of haze around me as I blink sleep from my eyes. A warm pressure on my left makes me look to the side. Lando’s face is squished against my chest, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips and rolling across my bare skin that pokes out from under my tank top. I take a moment to take it all in, how we’d gotten here, how we were, and I can’t help but roll to pull him closer to me and curl him inside my arms as I pepper a few kisses to his hairline.
How did I ever not like him? He's a fucking saint.
Lando, a heavy sleeper until I started sleeping in the same bed, noticed immediately and grabbed my waist with groggy whines about how tired he was. I coax him back to sleep, kissing his hairline and gently massaging his back until the snores return and I smile at Lando’s sleeping face.
“Awake yet?” Oscar calls from the door, and I wave. He laughs under his breath, waving me over, and it takes a bit of grace to detach myself from Lando. Once I do, I grab one of the spare throw blankets off the floor from where Lando had kicked it and slip over to where Oscar is standing by the door as I wrap it around me to keep out the morning chill.
“He’s exhausted. I think all the stress of the season is catching up on him.” I rub sleep from my face, and Oscar nods, handing me a piece of toast like a peace offering. I take it and tilt my head at him.
“They’re fining McLaren and Red Bull a lot for this stunt. It just came out.” Oscar hums, “said it’s a breach of contract and a risk for documents to be shared amongst the teams…”
My heart jumps to my throat, and I look at Lando’s sleeping form as he rolls into where my fading body heat is still in the blankets, “they want us to split?”
“Well. Lando’s contract ends with McLaren this year.” Oscar paused to take a sip of his coffee before leaning in to whisper, “and you didn’t hear it from me, but Christian has been looking at grabbing him for a few years now.”
“Is Checo moving?” I ask because I know Max wouldn’t leave Red Bull unless we forced him out by dragging him by his ankles.
“I dunno.” Oscar grins, stepping back and whacking my shoulder, “but you can date within your garage, so.”
With that, he walks away and I turn back to Lando as he starts to stir. I lean on the doorframe and watch as he blearily blinks his eyes open, hands searching for me in the covers until he lifts his head to see me off in the doorway.
“C’mere.” he croaks, and I smile, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my thighs.
I can’t imagine him in navy. But it might look good on him.
25TH JULY, LONDON ↴
“is Max positive?” Lando pokes his head into the kitchen doorway, looking at the island where I’m staring at my laptop. I look up and shrug, sending an email back to Christian about the fines and the media being on his ass for the whole stunt.
“Kylie said it’ll be here in five minutes,” I reply, refreshing my email as if that will make the minutes suddenly not matter and for the email to pop up. Apparently, Max had gotten sick right before the next race. While I was home with Lando to make sure he wasn’t being strenuous and to keep media off my back until everything died down, they had to do a COVID test on Max and isolate him just in case.
“It would suck if he's out for his home race this year." Lando wanders into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to me as he sets his phone down on the counter. He’s been living in Oscar and my apartment for the past few days, just until next week when he goes back to McLaren's training center for a bit to do a lot of physical therapy before getting in the car next weekend for Zandvoort.
Oscar calls my phone, and I stand up, telling Lando to keep checking my email as I make my way over to the other side of the kitchen to grab my phone.
“Yes, bitch?” I say into the phone and Oscar laughs at my sharp tone.
“Just checking in on Lando for Zak,” Oscar says and I look behind me and my boyfriend—like, actual boyfriend now, and smile.
“He’s been fine, ribs are still a little sore. I had him doing cardio earlier and he was faring pretty well so I—I think Jon said he can go back to training a bit earlier. He’s still coming back in Zandvoort though.” I hum, “how’s Bia faring?”
“She’s having the time of her life. I gotta start bringing her around more. You guys really would be an unstoppable duo.” Oscar laughs, “But good, Jon is off today so I’ll let Zak know to reach out to him and ask.”
“Ollie!” Lando whines and I turn.
“Yess?” I draw out as I walk to his side.
“It's negative.”
“Oh, thank fucking god.” I breathe, “That makes everything a lot easier for me.”
Oscar is quiet on the line for a few moments before asking in a small voice, “What’s negative?”
“Max’s COVID test. He’s just got the flu.” I say without thinking much of my brother's hesitance before he lets out a soft laugh.
“I thought you took a pregnancy test or something, I was about to start judging the type of cardio you’ve been doing,” Oscar says and I shout,
“Dude!”
“I feel like that’s a reasonable thing to be worried about!”
“Oh my god, we’ve only been actually dating dating for like two weeks!” I groan and Lando sends me a confused look, so I pop Oscar onto speakerphone.
“It only takes like—five minutes to make a kid!”
“Hello?!” Lando shouts and I sink to the floor in a fit of laughter, trying to bite back the volume of my laughter before Lando shouts, "Do you think I fucked your sister?!"
"No! Stop! Stop talking Lando!" Oscar shouts over the phone and now I'm hysterical on the floor in tears as Lando tries to backtrack and Oscar keeps shouting for him to just-- "Shut the fuck up, Lando!"
"Both are you are going to kill me, I'm losing it." I wheeze from where I'm now lying on the floor, Lando laughing alongside me as Oscar groans.
"First the house, now this?" He says and Lando makes some noise in the back of his throat as I manage to calm myself down enough to stand.
"What about a house?" I wipe under my eyes, leaning my head on Lando's shoulder as his arm wraps around my shoulder and he kisses my head, his fingers poking at my side and making me squirm as I push him away with a laugh.
"Nothing, love." Lando sighs, "Remember when they gave me those painkillers that made me super loopy the first night, and Oscar was watching over me?"
I nod, remembering how halfway through my grocery trip he had to call me because Lando was so loopy he thought that I was gone forever. And he had literally cried tears of joy when I answered Oscar's phone call.
"Well, I kinda... oh my god this is so embarrassing." Lando sighs and Oscar tells him he now has to tell the story and Lando hides his face in my hair as he recounts, "I was looking at apartments in London for us."
"Stop, oh my god." I whine, turning to Lando so I can kiss his cheeks and his forehead, pulling him down when he tries to move back so I can't, "That's so cute."
"No, it's embarrassing." He grumbles and I laugh, pulling him closer and kissing along his jaw and then the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.
"I wouldn't mind that," I murmur to him and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, his hands find my waist and he presses a kiss to my lips.
"Ew, I don't like that I can hear him kiss you over the phone." Oscar groans, "I'm hanging up now, don't do anything too strenuous."
"Fuck you, Oscar!" I laugh as the call hangs up, Lando keeping his arms firmly around my waist. We sit in silence for a few moments before his hand ghosts up the side of my neck to take my jaw in his palm, thumb hooking on my chin to pull me down to look at him.
"Would you seriously not mind?" He asks softly and I grin, leaning over to pop a quick kiss on his lips.
"Getting to have you with me every day?" I bring our foreheads together, his curls against my own as his hands find my waist to hold, my hands resting on his shoulders as I grin and flutter my eyes closed, "That's paradise."
"I'll literally buy one right now, don't even test me." He groans, pulling me closer and I laugh.
"Let's get Zandvoort out of the way first, yeah?"
JULY 28TH, TWITTER ↴
AUGUST 27TH, THE NETHERLANDS ↴
Luckily for me, I made it into the paddocks long before any media people. Max welcomes me with a slap on the back as I welcome him to his home race, and then I'm greeted by the Ferrari drivers once again as Checo laughs at my bewildered expression.
"I'm gonna tell the Tifosi on you both." I huff, but let both Charles and Carlos wrap me in tight hugs of congratulations as we laugh. Once the two are carted off to go do their actual jobs, I get settled in my chair and glance down at my desk before laughing.
A vase of freshly cut flowers and a little cup of coffee sits there, waiting for me, and I turn to look at Max who just grins.
"He's determined." Is all Max says before slipping away as he's called over to get dressed. I laugh and send Lando a quick thank you message, before taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee and settling down to finally get back into gear.
"Welcome back," A voice chimes and I glance up to see Christian in the doorway. I offer him a small smile and a nod.
"Good to be here." Is all I say in reply.
-
Lando and Max seriously just want to kill each other in these cars. Max takes the win at his home race by some insignificantly small number, they had to literally watch multiple playbacks to see who crossed first, which means Lando is still in good running for World Champion. Luckily, somehow a mix of car issues and the pure energy from Oscar, Charles, Checo, and Carlos managed to keep Max in P2 for most races, leveling out the chances for Lando to recover his lost points.
As soon as most drivers have returned to their paddocks, I'm mid-packing up when I'm ushered off by Logan, who finished P6. He quite literally hoists me off my feet and carries me into the crowd for the podium. A few other drivers lag back, and I look over to Oscar, who'd finished P4 behind Charles.
"Where's Lando?!" Logan shouts over my head at Oscar, who points, and then leans over to me.
"Here's that kiss they promised you'd have to do," He shouts in my ear and I laugh as the two lift me so I can be partially over the barrier holding back the audience from the racers. I wave Lando down and he laughs, slipping away from a reporter as he finishes an interview. Biting off his glove as he walks over, he drops it into his helmet and then grabs my jaw with that now gloveless hand, pulling me into his lips for a quick peck. I don't let him leave though, grabbing his jaw and pulling him back in for a few more deeper kisses.
Oscar cheers and Logan laughs before Lando secures one arm around me to pull me over the barrier. Logan and Oscar immediately hop over after me.
There's warmth in my chest as Lando keeps his hand on my lower back, pulling me through the crowd of drivers and up to where Max and Charles stand. A giddy excitement thrums across my skin.
I could do this forever.
--
SEPTEMBER 3RD, INSTAGRAM ↴
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oliviapiastri: 6 months <3
charlesleclerc: damn y'all move fast
oscarpiastri: DUDE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE ARENT LIVING TOGETHER IN OUR WHOLE LIVES. CHEERS!
maxverstappen: cheers!! looks lovely
user1: THEY LIVE TOGETHER?
alexalbon: DUDE ITS BEEN SIX MONTHS??
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landonorris: omg i can post this publically now
landonorris: i LOVE YOU OLIVIA<333
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⤷ oscarpiastri: i liked it better before the FIA made them announce it. i wanna go back in time to before that happened.
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compared to the other hero's in YJ how do you think Phantom stands up power wise. like Future Danny ripped the world apart and i know in some fanfiction that it is used as an indicator that he is high up there, but i'm interested in your thoughts.
This is an interesting question nonnie!
I generally agree with the idea that Phantom is in the upper-tier of crossover superhero powers, but I do have more specific thoughts so let’s break it down:
Danny’s power level
Just looking at the variety and strength of ghost-powers that Phantom displays in his show, I would put him in the higher rankings of most heroes when it comes to raw ability. I alluded to this in my main DP x YJ Deathly Weapons fanfic, but to me Phantom shows signs of a pretty common power-scaling differential that happens when a solo-protagonist hero gets transplanted into an ensemble setting. Within his own setting, Phantom had to be (or become) powerful enough to solve most problems/ fights all by himself – and some of those ghosts he ended up facing towards the end of his canon were impressively strong. By comparison ensemble heroes are generally less-powerful because working as a collective means they don’t have the same need for aggressive self-sufficiency and also so that no one character upstages or outmodes the rest of the group from a writing perspective.
There’s also the nature of ghost powers. Phantom needed to develop the raw strength to fill the role of solo combat heavy-hitter, but his base powers are versatile to the point of unsettling. He has to physically fight against other ghosts because they have (and to some extent are immune to) the same abilities as him, but in a fight against other species he could potentially avoid, manipulate or exhaust an opponent with strategic use of invisibility/ intangibility/ overshadowing.
The back of Dinah’s neck prickled. With flight to mask footsteps and intangibility rendering them undetectable by touch… Nonthreatening as Phantom generally appeared, she was starting to understand why his kind had developed such an unsettling reputation. The idea that a ghost could be present at any time - eavesdropping, spying, interfering - without any of them being the wiser was… disquieting to say the least.
- Deathly Weapons, Chapter 17: Assessment
On top of that, he seems to be in a similar boat to Superman when it comes to physical weaknesses – he doesn’t have that many, and they’re often quite specific or hard-to-find. The most easily-exploitable one is that Danny can run out of power, be slowly starved of ectoplasm or be knocked unconscious; all of which would forcibly revert him back to his weaker human state. After that, he’s vulnerable to certain magics and ghostly-artefacts, which are more likely to be accessible to various DC/ Marvel heroes (although they might not know exactly which spells/items will be most effective or why). Beyond those two, most of his weaknesses need to be specifically known about and actively sought out – anti-ecto-technology is obtainable but not mainstream, blood blossoms naturally repel/hurt ghosts but they seem to be rare in nature (or even extinct in the modern day) and then assuming you acknowledge Phantom Planet there’s ectoranium which is basically ghost-Kryptonite in rarity (and possibly even the same mineral in DP x DC settings depending on the crossover). Much like with Superman, the most reliable ways to take down Phantom require actively knowing what he is and having prepared accordingly.
Based on those metrics, I want to place Phantom in the same power-band as Superman or the Martian Manhunter. I’d consider their powers to be equivalent incomparibles – it’s hard to stack their abilities side-by-side and say one is objectively better than the others. A no-holds-barred, knock-down drag-out fight between those three could get very nasty but it would be hard to confidently call a winner without knowing more about the external factors around them.
That said, I think the thing holding Danny back from being fully at that level is his experience: or rather his lack thereof. Danny hasn’t had much formal training (except maybe some basic self-defence instruction from Maddie/Jack) and he doesn’t have a proper mentor either. His personal experience mostly fits the narrow niche of direct open combat with other ghosts, mostly throughout Amity Park and surrounds (although occasionally in the Ghost Zone or further from town).
Phantom has enough raw power and innate talent as a strategic lateral-thinker to get by, but I think that hyperspecialisation and lack of guidance would leave him with a lot of blind-spots. His hand-to-hand is self-taught and probably missing a lot of best-practice basic techniques. He’s also never had an experienced third party to observe him in the field and offer suggestions on alternative approaches to using his powers/ keep him from developing bad habits. This is something Danny actually comments on in canon; he can take a long time to identify solutions (even obvious ones) that deviate too far from his default throw hands approach to fighting. His powers could be more effectively deployed as a precision-instrument but a lack of coaching means he tends to falls back on using them as a blunt hammer because that was the pattern that came naturally when he was first starting out, and no-one was around to keep that habit from ingraining.
The place where you can see this lack of experience hurting him the most is in his lack of soft-skills. Phantom didn’t have anyone to advise him on de-escalation, damage control, comforting civilians, interacting with authorities etc. Add in the naturally-frightening nature of many ghosts and it was easy for him to fall into a public perception of being “the town menace”. Danny is pretty decent at rallying both humans and ghosts (even erstwhile enemies) to his side in crisis situations but no-one has taught him how manage public relations outside of that. He says it himself: he needs a PR agent.
On the other hand, Phantom’s heroics have inadvertently earned him a decent amount of potential political pull in the Ghost Zone. He has enough positive rapport that some regular rogues will take his side or even actively seek him out for help in the right circumstances, and other more antagonistic ones have at least developed a degree of grudging respect. There are several powerful ghosts that either have direct debts of gratitude to him/his team (Princess Dorothea, Pandora) or who hold him in high esteem for re-sealing Pariah Dark (The Far Frozen). It’s possible that defeating Pariah might even have granted him a potential candidature/claim to an official position, and judging by the way the Observants and Clockwork pay attention to him, it seems that Phantom’s slow accumulation of power/influence isn’t going completely unnoticed. However, again, Danny doesn’t have the awareness, experience or training needed to leverage that effectively – heck, he’s not even doing it on purpose.
With all that taken into account, I think Phantom would rank very highly in terms of overall potential, but at his current level he’d be in the lower ranks of the A-tier. He could become a much more powerful figure with the right guidance but in his canonical state he’s underutilising or outright overlooking a lot of his most effective tools.
TUE Future/ “Dark Phantom”
The “Dark Phantom” presented in the TUE Bad-Future is interesting to me because while he’s a very powerful figure within that story, I don't think he’s a very good reflection of canon-Danny’s potential to do harm.
Gonna complain about The Ultimate Enemy for a bit:
I’ve tag-muttered about this before but I’m one of the Phandom members who finds The Ultimate Enemy to be a frustratingly weak episode. It has a potentially fascinating core premise (the “evil future/alternate self”) but the execution is so convoluted and driven by improbable contrivances that the whole ends up being far less than the sum of its parts.
One of the biggest problems is that, rather than being a straight future/alternate version of Danny, “Dark Phantom” is actually a hybrid of Phantom and Plasmius’ worse sides. He’s a distinct, separate entity which means he can’t work as an effective dark mirror to either of them. (Compare and contrast the Justice League episode A Better World in which the Justice Lords acted as a dark mirror of what the actual Justice League members could become if they chose to abandon their morals and compassion in favour of seizing control and instating a totalitarian system of draconian crime prevention.)
The episode also tried to graft on a really mismatched moral of “don’t be a cheat”. Rather than being a lesson on choices/ values/ power/ responsibility, Dark Phantom almost ends up being an offhand biproduct of Danny getting caught cheating on a freshman/sophomore-year career-aptitude test. Instead of learning a lesson about himself/ his ideals/ his personal faults, Danny comes away from the episode with a cool new superpower after deciding not to cheat on the test after all. Not exactly satisfying.
That mismatch and the convoluted levels of moon-logic required to make it fit severely undermine the idea that this version of Dark Phantom is “inevitable”. There are too many steps that are too highly-specific and too easily-avoidable for the threat to feel real: Danny has to care enough about an early-highschool CAT to want to cheat, he has to somehow get the answers which he wasn’t intending to do in the canon timelineand only does as a result of Clockwork’s meddling, making it a self-fulfilling situation, he has to get caught using them, Mister Lancer has to hold the resulting parent-teacher meeting at Nasty Burger rather than a school office for some reason, the Nasty Burger Sauce has to 1. be dangerously explosive and 2. coincidentally explode while not only Danny’s parents but his friends and sister are inside, Danny has to be placed in Vlad’s custody rather than with his Aunt Alicia or closer family-friends, Danny has to ask Vlad to remove his Phantom-half and finally, Vlad himself has to agree to do it. Take away any of those steps and this version of Dark Phantom doesn’t happen. That’s not inevitable, it’s contrived.
But anyway, let’s look at Dark Phantom as his own entity:
One of the things that makes Dark Phantom much more potentially dangerous is that he combines Phantom’s raw power with Plasmius’ experience. Like I was saying before, one of Danny’s biggest handicaps is that he lacks training/guidance and tends to underutilise his most effective abilities. Vlad meanwhile has had years of relative freedom to practice and finesse a lower raw-power level; he’s much more skilled at advanced techniques like duplication and overshadowing (which he canonically used to force through his fortune-making business deals), as well as ecto-constructs. Plasmius is also a lot more tactical and manipulative in how he applies their common powers. Plus, the TUE version of Dark Phantom is a full-ghost, which means he doesn’t have a vulnerable mortal state that can be exploited as a weakness.
This is why I think it would be possible for TUE!Dark Phantom to successfully decimate other heroes in shared-universe crossover situations where ghosts aren’t common knowledge. He’d be an unexpected, unknown enemy that the heroes have no effective way to fight (outside of a few magic users). Combine that with many of the most powerful heroes being visible as public figures, and Dark Phantom having inherited Plasmius’ strategic/manipulative traits and it could be very easy for Dark Phantom to basically launch a premeditated paranormal blitzkrieg attack, using Plasmius’ skill with duplicates and overshadowing to subjugate any hero he couldn’t overwhelm with Phantom’s raw power level. It would also make sense that Amity Park would become one of the remaining bastions in any TUE-style future, since having advanced knowledge of ghostly abilities and access to anti-ecto technology would tilt the balance more evenly and allow them to at least keep the danger out.
Mentally, it’s also worth noting that Dark Phantom is a lot more dangerous than either Phantom or Plasmius. He’s basically the most toxic traits from both of them, removed from their more moderating/ compassionate instincts. Based on the canonical explanation given, TUE!Danny had Phantom forcibly removed in attempt to remove the pain/ rage/ grief he was feeling over the death of his family. This isn’t a model-hero-persona conceptualisation of Phantom a la Splitting Images; the TUE-version of his ghost half is a big ball of churning negative emotion. And what are some of Danny’s toxic traits when it comes to negative emotions: he lashes out, falls into self-blame and self-destructs. Then we add in Vlad’s toxic traits: he’s egocentric to the point of narcissism, he projects negative feelings/ blame onto others rather than accept responsibility for his own actions and he has a controlling/ sadistic streak.
TUE’s Dark Phantom is the worst possible combination of an emotionally devastated teenager and an emotionally immature adult. He’s a ball of pain and rage that blames the world for that pain, lashes out at it, feels worse for doing so and then blames the world for making him feel worse because he doesn’t have the emotional capacity to accept that he’s the one causing it. Grief is love persevering but the feelings of love, connection and guilt that contextualise his pain were left in the human shells that remained of Danny and Vlad. It’s possible that the Dark Phantom presented in TUE might not have the capacity to feel positive emotions or compassion. He was never meant to exist as his own entity – he was an attempt to destroy Daniel Fenton’s negative emotions which went horribly wrong. In some ways it seems like his reign of terror could be an angrier version of Dracula’s scheme from Netflix’s Castlevania or Haliax’s goal from the Kingkiller Chronicles – a drawn-out suicide note from an undead being who’s been dead inside for much longer, destroying whatever peace/happiness he encounters in revenge for being denied it himself, until such time as he either attains catharsis or finally ends the pain by destroying reality and himself along with it. That’s the final thing that makes TUE’s Dark Phantom more dangerous than either Phantom or Plasmius – he has nothing to lose and no “better nature” or personal dreams that other heroes could try to appeal to.
So yeah, the TUE version of Dark Phantom could absolutely rip the world and other heroes apart, but I don’t think he’s a particularly good reflection of Danny’s capabilities in terms of either powers or personality. There’s too much Vlad in the mix, and even then he represents such a narrow and extreme edge-case for each of their personalities that it’s barely representative at all. At best he’s a warning for what these kinds of powers could be capable of in the wrong hands.
Meta-question: What is “power” in narrative?
Alright, now that I’ve (hopefully) answered the question, let’s finish with a self-indulgent thought exercise for extra credit.
There’s an anecdote which I’ve heard attributed to the Stan Lee, in which a fan apparently asked him “who would win in a fight between Superman and the Hulk?” To which Stan apparently replied, “whoever the writer wants.”
While it can be fun to make tier-lists and try to rank how strong different heroes/villains/creatures are based on the rules of their respective universes, I think it can also be helpful to consider that– like all things in storytelling – power is a narrative device. It’s a tool that the character(s) and storyteller(s) can use to create and solve problems.
A character can be extremely physically strong/ skilled/ knowledgeable/ influential in a specific area but how much narrative power they have depends on how well their abilities allow them to influence or resolve story problems. And, as the omnipotent god(s) of the narrative, the storyteller(s) can choose whether to confront them with challenges that play to their existing strengths, or that force them to find other solutions. What’s the best way to kill a vampire?
This is actually part of what makes Lex Luthor such an effective Superman villain. Objectively most versions of Lex are just A Guy™ – on a physical level he doesn’t have anything close to Kal El’s Kryptonian strength or superpowers. But he feels like a serious threat because he often comes after Superman in ways that Clark can’t easily steamroll with that brute strength. Lex uses manipulation, money, influence, connections, politics, public opinion; Superman can’t physically fight him without playing into Luthor’s plans, and trying to face him in those other fields requires tools that Clark wasn’t handed as part of his Kryptonian heritage. An invading alien army is objectively a bigger physical threat to Earth, but a competent Lex Luthor scheme feels more dangerous because – while we feel confident that Superman can beat down a legion of monsters – when it comes to the question of whether he can outwit Luthor, the outcome is a lot less certain.
Situational disempowerment is another of the ways a narrative can reign in an otherwise “overpowered” character: placing them in circumstances where they either aren’t given many opportunities to showcase their best strengths, or are kept from using them because the drawbacks/ risks/ consequences of using their abilities makes their power(s) a liability. I’ve mentioned it before, but this is actually one of the tricks I’m personally using to keep Phantom’s massive powerset balanced against the other proteges in Deathly Weapons. It’s also something I’ve been struggling with when it comes to Conner’s place in that story since the stealth-mission plot structure doesn’t allow as much room to highlight his core powers and personal strengths.
Stories can create additional stakes for powerful characters by giving them emotional arcs which their powers can’t resolve. For a published example, consider the series One Punch Man and Mob Psycho 100. Despite how high-ranked Saitama and Mob are within the power-scaling of their respective stories, those powers don’t kill the emotional stakes because the things they actually want/ need can only be gained through self-improvement or making connections in ways separate from their powers (and in some regards their power level actively gets in the way of that). This is also something I’m doing with Danny’s main grief arc in DW.
Final Conclusion time
In terms of physical strength and range of abilities, I think Phantom would be pretty near the top of the power-scale in most superhero crossovers. While the Dark Phantom presented in TUE might not be a particularly good reflection of Danny’s specific potential, a crossover version of the TUE timeline offers a pretty good litmus-test for how dangerous a strong ghost could be in a given universe: the combination of power level, ability range and highly-specific/ inaccessible weak-points poses a strong strategic threat.
On the other hand, physical strength isn’t the only strength. Phantom has a decent level of potential political sway as well, but he also lacks a lot of the soft skills and experience needed to make use of his toolset to its full ability.
Stepping back further, the answer to how powerful Danny is in a narrative sense is really just “however much the writer wants”. Phantom’s narrative power depends on the kind of story he’s in and the challenges placed around him – there are as many ways to situationally nerf our ghost-boy as make him OP, all without needing to alter his on-paper powers.
#you asked me for thoughts which is a dangerous game to play as I have many#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny phantom#DP meta#dark phantom#the ultimate enemy#TUE Critical#I know that AGIT did a different take on TUE Dark Phantom and that's totally cool! This is just me unpacking the OG episode writing#on writing#writing superpowers#anonymous#3WD Answers
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"Oh?" Sariel said amusingly to the cold blonde prince, "I figured you two would get along nicely, seein as (y/n) is the author of one of your favorite books." Chevalier paused, eyes widening slightly in shock before going reverting back to normal cold stare.
"Oh!" You chirped up, "you've read my books? which one is your favorite?" You chuckled excitingly, not getting much of a reaction out of the brutal beast.
"I was not aware you were an author," Chev said, looking at you, "Be that is it may; You do not seem to conduct yourself the way you write." You scrunched your nose together and pursed your lips.
"Ouch," You chuckled, "What a backhanded compliment, thank you."
"Huh?" Luke chimed in with a tilted head, "But when looking into your background your name wasn't anywhere linked to any sort of author," He pointed out, a smile of admiration playing on his features. You shrugged before teasingly responding, "Haven't you heard of a pen name?" Raising an impressed eyebrow, Noktos lips curled up in a sly smile. "Oh? You'll have to tell me what it is, so I can read it myself, I would love to see what our precious Belle can do. Do you have a copy with you?"
Clavis roared out in laughter, pulling a very familiar book from behind his back, handing it over to Nokto. Where had he gotten that? Nobody knows, and never will, I suppose.
"I had already known of your writing endeavors!" He boasted, "Yours truly even took a read. Although, I fear your story lacks a very distinct amount of fun..."
Silvio, who was also listening in, decided to take the liberty of snatching the book out of Noktos hand, asking what only any businessman would ask.
"So...how much of a profit have ya made off of your books?" He studied it dubiously in hand, feeling the grooves of the spine and quality of the pages, "You must be pretty well off if it's considered the 'brutal beasts' favorites." With a haughty smile, he naturally threw in, "If I like it enough, I might even invest in it, if you'll make a deal with me, I'll be sure all of Benetoite knows your name, lady." Sighing slightly you gave him a side glance before rolling your eyes.
"I make enough to be content. what matters is that others enjoy my writing, not how much I make off of it." You replied bluntly. Silvio only scoffed before keith also gave his two cents, holding out his hand for Silvio to hand him your book. With a startled look, his eyes lit up in excitement.
"I've read this book! you wrote it? I'm a huge fan of all of your works, the way you write is so mesmerizing it's difficult to put it down! Would you mind uh- ah..." He stopped himself with a blush tainting his cheeks, "I'm sorry! You must not like being bombarded with all of my questions. I-" You interrupted Keith with a hearty chuckle.
"Don't worry Keith, let's have tea and sweets sometime and you can ask me all you want." You threw a side glance at Chevalier, "You're welcome to join as well, Prince Chevalier." He glanced up from his paperwork in hand only for a mere second, enough for you to understand he heard what you had suggested.
"Ah-" Keith started as Gilberts hand snaked from behind and snatched the book out of his hand, flipping the book to it's back to read the synopsis. He looked up at you with his piercing red eye, his smile unwavering as he tucked the hardcover under his arm.
"A noblewoman writing a book in an alias," He hummed, "I believe any other would like their name to be well known, to bring up their family name and increase the likelihood of their popularity," You froze in place and glanced around the room for an awkward moment, trying to think of some excuse to tell the Obsidianite prince. After a moment of silence, he let out a low giggle, turning on his heel and heading out the door.
"I'm only teasing, little rabbit. Thank you for the book, I sincerely hope you do not disappoint. After all, if he (chev) likes it, surely it must have its merits. I will find you when I'm done, I want to join in on your little tea party to discuss my thoughts as well." You sucked in your breath as he left the room, your pursed lips coming apart with a 'pop!'.
"Well," You chuckled nervously, grabbing the drink Silvio had graced you with and lifting it in the air before downing the contents, "Here's to hoping he likes the book!"
#Ikemen prince#Ikepri#Ikemen prince x reader#Ikepri x reader#Clavis lelouch#Ikemen fanfic#Chevalier michel#Silvio ricci#Gilbert von obsidian#Keith Howell#Nokto Klein#Luke randolph#Ikemen prince fanfic
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"sap"
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tachihara machizou x fem! hirotsu's daughter! reader
warnings: nsfw ; shower sex ; oral (receiving); masturbation (m); cursing ; bondage; fluff to smut ; idk how to write warnings; unedited ill do that later
being a part of the black lizard had its fun, but some days were boring, like today; tachihara slumped his body against the wall as he stole glances at hirotsu, who seemed just as disinterested.
"cigarette?" the old man offered, placing one in his mouth and lighting it while gunshots rang out in the background. some small rival organization - even rival was a generous word - had "forgotten" to pay back the port mafia. one warning was given and they were told to go fuck themselves, so the black lizard battalion was called. apparently, this organization had some kind of powerful ability users as executives, but whoever they were, they didn't show up for the slaughter.
grunts, low level thugs and anyone else got caught in the crossfire. both mafia members watched the wall of suits fire off enough gunshots to fill up the night sky if bullets were stars.
"i still don't get why we gotta be here for this," tachihara grumbled, taking the offer and placing the plume of smoke to his lips. "seems like they just talk a whole lot of shit."
"it's never wrong to be cautious," the senior member retorted. he puckered his lips and made a ring of grey that floated listlessly in the atmosphere alongside the smell of blood. "the boss specifically warned me about a dangerous woman who could wipe out our troops in one shot."
lips curled around the cigarette, sucked on the nicotine and exhaled pure sarcasm. "yeah, well looks like she's a real pain in our asses."
a few moments passed in silence - or rather, with only white noise echoing in the abandoned warehouse, white noise being a steady stream of gunshots. it was music to both their ears - and surely enough, no one showed up. every thug had enough bullet holes in them to make the notion that a single one survived laughable. tachihara pressed his forearm to the wall and pushed himself off, stretching dramatically with a sigh.
before he could complain again about how lame this mission was, the wall exploded.
not so much an "explosion" as a deformation. it was pushed back, and tachihara barely had the time to react before a giant hole was pierced and a woman came out.
"well, fuck," she glanced at the sea of corpses on the ground, then back at tachihara with a playful smirk. "I guess you're the mafia shithead who I was just told I gotta put down. sucks that I got here late though; if you hadn't killed all my subordinates, I might've let you live, pretty boy."
she looked young, too young to be an executive. despite this, she walked with the kind of confidence that got his skin crawling in anticipation. finally, this night gets more interesting.
he pulled his guns out of their holsters and pointed them straight at her face, mimicking her expression. "you're shit out of luck, lady, 'cause I'm gonna-"
"[_____]?"
hirotsu, who had been briefly blown out of the way, came walking back in with a look of shock on his face. the redhead rolled his eyes; he didn't care whether or not the old man knew this lady, he was going to blow her brains out.
only, as his gaze reverted back onto her, she had the same expression as hirotsu did.
in fact, she was blushing, embarrassed like a schoolgirl who'd gotten caught.
"...dad?!"
what the fuck?
tachihara felt his hands lower a little as he took in the situation, and his eyes just kept darting to his superior, then to his enemy. shellshocked isn't the right word, they were looking at each other like neither had a clue what to say.
"shouldn't you be in school?!"
"dad, since when are you in the fucking mafia?!"
"language!"
the woman dropped her gun, groaning with her face in her hands, muttering to herself. "great, this is great. what the hell?! I knew you did shady business, but I didn't think-"
"is this where your university fund money has gone?" the mafioso's face was red too, from what could only be guessed to be anger mixed in with shame and shock.
"no, I'm still in class, I just... hey, don't distract me, old man. why didn't you tell me you were in the port mafia?"
"why didn't you tell me you were a gangster?!"
"because it's none of your business!"
tachihara's presence grew smaller and smaller as he watched the whole debate happen. it was awkward in a manner he couldn't describe, as he felt not only that he was intruding, but that this was definitely not something he should be listening to. he tucked his guns away, mostly out of respect for hirotsu and the fact that he wasn't about to shoot what appeared to be his daughter.
a few moments later they were hugging.
"sorry dad," she muttered as she pulled away from the embrace. "if I had known, I would've told you..."
"it's alright, but you shouldn't keep things like these from me, [_____]."
sighing, the woman chuckled nervously then promised she wouldn't. she crossed her arms and leaned her back against the deformed wall, then took a look around. she seemed to suddenly notice that tachihara was still there.
"well..." she looked at him then giggled a little, likely embarrassed about the whole situation. "I guess I'm not gonna kill you after all, huh?"
he didn't know what to say, because what is there to say? obviously, this conflict couldn't go anywhere further. thankfully, hirotsu intervened. "what will you tell your superiors?"
"no idea. they just called me to ask me to return to base to protect all of these hopeless fuckers-"
"language."
her eyes rolled. "dad, I'm not 5, I can swear. pretty boy here agrees, don't you, red?"
it took tachihara a moment to realize she was talking about him. once again, his mouth opened but his boss was quicker to respond.
"do you throw yourself at all men like this, [_____]? I thought I raised you better than that."
ignoring his comment with a wave of her hand in the air as though swatting away a fly, she continued. "as I was saying, they just called me. I could technically tell them that I got here too late and the culprits were gone, but I don't think that would bode well with the news that they just lost 90% of their entry-level grunts."
slightly annoyed, the tuffs of grey hair nodded. "you're right, they won't. what's your plan, then?"
a shrug and a pursing of lips. "no clue. you sure I can't just kill red and bring his body to-"
"why don't you just join the port mafia?"
the suggestion came from the one who had barely spoken all night. of course, he didn't think hirotsu would actually let him be used as a scapegoat, but all this banter felt useless. "since your organization is dead in the water anyways. if you just leave, they'll kill you as their final act, but if you join the mafia, you'll have protection."
another shrug. "he's not wrong," she said, "plus, I could just work with you."
hirotsu wanted to protest, but logically, they were both right. despite not wanting his daughter to get involved, he had faith in the mafia like no other member, and was loyal to no ends.
and that's how hirotsu [_____] found herself a member of the black lizard.
her father hated it, of course. the only people who knew they were related was tachihara and gin, the latter picking up on it after a while of noticing them bickering like they had a past.
over time, tachihara got snippets of the story. it seems like at some point, the old man had some sort of relationship with a woman who didn't know he was in the port mafia. time progressed, and they drifted apart. 5 years later, he saw her again with a child's hand in her own.
it was the only time hirotsu had ever requested time off from the mafia.
it was awkward, his former lover telling him that she didn't think he needed to know about it because she wanted to raise the child herself. however, that's not the kind of man he was, let alone the kind of man he'd ever been. it started by asking her name, then he wanted to be properly introduced to her. after a few years, he would have coffee with his partially estranged daughter every other month. he often sent money, which was never used out of pride. when [_____] decided to pursue her studies, she found the stash of cash her mother had been hiding and decided she didn't care for pride. apparently, she was jumped when getting home after a long day of lectures, and her use of her ability got people talking. before she knew it, she was being recruited to the underground for enough money to set her for life.
it took several years for her relationship with hirotsu to improve, but there seemed to be some kind of mutual respect between father and daughter.
not in the mafia.
"dad, I'm not going to do something just because you-"
"I'm your superior, [_____], you can't give me attitude like a teenager. and don't call me dad in these settings."
tachihara thought it was funny. she seemed to like innocently getting on her dad's nerves, and she often used him to do it. she'd get bold some nights and flirt with him right in front of the old man's face. tachihara would feel guilty if he didn't think it was fucking hilarious.
on this particular evening, she didn't seem to have anything better to do than pester him and do her absolute best to get on his nerves.
"so you're saying you've never seen him drunk? not even once?" she giggled, sitting on the table as he tried to write his report for their last mission. her feet were swinging and the table would shake with every swing of her legs, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.
"no, look, can you just shut the fuck up for a second so I can write this?" he nearly snapped the pencil in half. her smirk only grew at the sight of him being frustrated. "do you really have nothing better to do with your time?"
"nahh." her chest vibrated with a playful chuckle. she tilted her head at him, then slammed her hand onto the pile of papers he was trying to fill in. "this is lame, paperwork isn't for our kind. c'mon, don't tell me this isn't boring you out of your mind, red. let's go do something else."
one fleeting thought of 'fuck it', and suddenly they were at a bar, downing shots like they were on a mission.
"I bet... you couldn't handle 3 more," she slurred, liquid swirling around dangerously close to the rim of the glass, threatening to spill over. somehow, her shit eating grin was unaffected by the liquor; if anything, she'd gotten worse. her fingers would settle on his thighs grip too tight and too far up, the tips of her shoes would play footsie with him, and she straight-up tried to kiss him a few times. she couldn't handle her drinks very well, and he had only now realized what a stupid decision it was to take her up on her offer.
"that's enough for the whole month, [_____]," he rolled his eyes with his signature scoff, and grabbed her wrist to push it away from where she was teasing at. "you need to go home."
"are you finally gonna take me home, pretty boy?" she tried to lean in again, and he scooted backwards. flirting with his boss' daughter for fun was one thing, but something about her demeanor tonight seemed serious. he just hoped she was too drunk to remember the blush dusting his cheekbones.
"I am going to call you a cab." he enunciated every word clearly so she understood it, but as soon as his hand reached into his pocket, she placed hers on top to stop him.
the look in her eyes looked completely sober.
"I'm serious," she whispered, and he could practically feel her gaze on his lips. her eyes darted back up to his own, but before she could say something else that would confuse him further, she seemed to realize her words and her entire face flushed a deeper colour.
she stammered something incomprehensible, threw way too much cash onto the table and walked (if you can call it that) outside. tachihara didn't know what to do, so he just watched her go. she'll probably be fine. probably.
he didn't know why his face felt so hot and his cheeks hurt from a subtle smile.
weeks later, and they'd made a tradition of skipping out on reports to go do something, anything except what they were supposed to do. walking along abandoned streets at night in hopes of picking up a fight, or going to a bar and picking someone for the other to take in a fistfight. a lot of it involved fighting. all of it, really. they'd show up to work the next day littered in matching bruises, and hirotsu's face would glow red and he'd have to excuse himself. giggling like children who knew exactly what they were doing.
tonight, tachihara got knocked out by a man twice his size, and it took her using her ability to get him to back off her partner in crime. she dragged him to her apartment to put some ice on it.
"that was really funny," she teased, tossing him a bag of assorted frozen items to place on his temple, which took the brunt of it. "I though you were really a goner for a second, there."
"ha, ha." the sarcasm was dry, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the thrill of seeing his life flash before his eyes. "I would've liked to see you try."
"an ambulance had to pick up the guy after I was done with him," she retorted, sitting on the sofa next to him with her feet up on the armrest. "actually, I've been meaning to ask you something."
a sigh in response. he took off the frozen bag from his skin and set it on the table, then looked at her. she winced.
"that's gonna need stitches, tachi," she remarked, then thought for a little bit. "I have glue somewhere, we can use that for now then have the port mafia medic fix it tomorrow, yeah?"
she didn't wait for a response, disappeared and reappeared after a string of curses thrown at herself for not being organized enough to know where she puts things. she had what was possibly medical glue but also possibly craft glue in her hands, and she glared at him. "lay down, dr. [_____] is here to save the day."
he quirked up a brow, then quickly relaxed his face after realizing the pain that was brought on by doing that. "weren't you drunk earlier tonight?"
"greatness knows not the bounds of liquor."
"what the fuck does that mean?"
she only giggled, then sat next to his head as she pinched together the skin and tried to apply the glue. her hands were shaking and it was clear she had no idea what she was doing, but tachihara prayed she was doing more good than harm. although, who knows.
"ow, ow, take it fucking easy," he grit his teeth together as she manhandled his injury. he could've sworn he saw her grinning at his pain.
"calm down princess, I'm done," she raised her hands in a sign of innocence, then took a closer look at her work.
tachihara watched in slow motion as her gaze moved further and further up his face.
"is... is your hair dyed?"
the room went dead silent. he had no idea what to respond, and for the first time since he joined the mafia, he felt stupid for letting his guard down. how did he forget to retouch his roots and then let someone get so close? how-
"you'd look really cute with black hair."
...what?
"that's your natural hair colour, right?" she kept going, raking her fingertips through his hair. "man, I feel lied to, I called you red for so long. why'd you dye it?"
"because I fuckin' felt like it," he grumbled out, having no other response. he felt such relief when she just giggled to his answer.
"fair enough. red was definitely the right colour, though. you'd look like shit if you went blonde."
he was so glad she let it go. he tried to sit upright, his head still throbbing from the pain, but she just looked at him curiously.
"I'll get you another mystery frozen item from the freezer," she laughed, getting up and rummaging through her kitchen. even with her face in the door of the fridge, she spoke, "I still haven't asked you my question from before, by the way. I just wanted to know how you got into the mafia."
out of one tight situation and into another.
he considered it; he considered it long and hard, way before she'd ever even asked the question. most of the time, if anyone asks, he'd just say it was none of their business. but he couldn't get away with that kind of response with her.
so, he told the truth.
"my... my brother joined the army during the great war. I just... I hated being compared to him by my family, so I wanted to get as far away as possible from his path, and ended up at the mafia. nothing much to it."
at least, part of the truth.
she pulled her face out of the fridge, looking at his expression for a moment. she tossed him another frozen bag and quickly sat back at his side.
"that sucks. was dying your hair also part of your rebellious phase?"
his nostrils flared at her teasing and he rolled his eyes, barely holding back a grin. "shut up."
laughing, she moved her body closer to his and put a hand on his delicately. "seriously, though, sorry to hear that your family didn't treat you right. I mean... I don't have that with my parents, but I know that it's tough being compared with someone else. but I don't know how that would apply to you. you're literally who I wanted to grow up to be."
he put down the ice pack because clearly it was affecting his hearing.
"like... I dunno. you're a badass who doesn't take shit from anybody. I mean, sure, you get your ass handed to you in bar fights and you don't have an ability, but so what? dad respects you, and so do I. not really sure how your brother compares to that."
this time, there wasn't anything to hide the stupid expression on his face. he just looked at her blankly like he'd never received a compliment in his life, which made her laugh even more.
"man, you really do have self-esteem issues, dontcha? if I had known you couldn't handle compliments, I would've said this ages ago. anyways," she got up, again, and stretched out her back, "don't worry about it, let's pretend that conversation ended there. so, are we dying your hair at your place or mine? because I don't have any dye and the store closes soon if we're gonna go buy some."
his mind could barely keep up with the way she was jumping from topic to topic. in the end, he just pushed his confession and her response to the back of his mind, and got up as well with a shrug. "my place, then. but you don't need to-"
"nonsense! I've been wanting to try to dye someone else's hair forever. plus, you're my partner in crime, I can't let anyone see that you're a big fat liar of a redhead."
her laugh felt so comforting to him. he felt like he was floating out of her apartment, out onto the street and all the way back to his own. his mind was just a blur (maybe it was from a concussion from the blow?) and in no time, he found himself sitting down with his head in between her thighs, gloved fingers massaging his scalp.
"okay, so the instructions say to rinse off and you're good!" she beamed, looking at her work proudly. "no need to thank me, by the way. despite my professional work, this one's on the house."
he chuckled, getting up and being careful not to get anything to touch the stained hair. "fine, then I won't thank you. I could've done this myself too, but you insisted, so if anything I should be charging you money."
shaking her head aggressively, she placed a finger on his lips while attempting to look solemn. "in that case, let us never speak of this again."
a few more minutes, and he was in the shower, the excess red streaming down from the water and making a puddle at his feet. she kept talking to him, loudly, from the other side of the door.
"how's it going so far?"
"it's almost all out, just be patient, damn," he laughed back, the final bits of red coming out of his hair until all the water that went through his hair came out clear. he turned off the faucet, and the stream stopped. he had barely dried his hair and wrapped a towel around his hips before he saw the door open.
"[_____], what the fuck-"
"sh, I want to see how it came out," she strolled right up to him and grabbed his face with one hand, tilting it in different directions to see all angles of his wet hair. as if he wasn't nearly naked right now. as if this was perfectly normal. "it looks good, but it's still wet so the colour doesn't show fully yet, right?"
he grabbed her hand and pulled it off of his face, looking at her seriously. "[_____], don't play dumb, you-"
"... saw an opportunity to see you shirtless, and I took it," she shot him a grin. then she suddenly seemed to get a little sad as she shook her head. "sorry, that isn't funny. um... I'll wait outside."
he watched her walk out just as quickly as she walked in. he slipped on his clothes quickly, then walked out to go find her standing at the entrance, putting on her shoes. ready to leave.
"hey, what are you..."
she cut him off, not even maintaining eye contact as she slipped her heel downwards and tied up the shoelaces. "look, tachi, I'm sorry. I just get excited sometimes and forget you don't feel the same way."
"what the fuck do you mean, don't feel the same way?"
now, her gaze met his. she looked confused. "I told you, weeks ago, that I was serious about the flirting. I even tried to kiss you, and kept dodging, so I got the message. it's fine, I get it. boss' daughter, or maybe I'm just not your type or whatever, but it's okay. I don't mind, I'm getting over it."
"holy fuck, [_____], you were drunk when you said that and I thought you were..."
he couldn't finish his thought. it was hard not to notice the hope in her eyes as she seemed to realize that he hadn't actually said no yet.
so, he said yes.
she kicked off her shoes hastily as his hands went to her waist and he pushed her back against the wall, lips eagerly devouring hers. her head slammed backwards, but her hips were pushed forwards to meet his own. her hands on his chest; one of his on her waist while the other secured itself at the base of her neck, pulling her in closer.
it was hot sweaty and fast, and they ended up back in the shower. he didn't expect her hands to roam the way they did, but she'd managed to have his entire chest coated in her touch before they even made it inside.
she murmured his name into his lips, and he responded by biting her lower lip harder. her fingertips were now on his back, his tight frame feeling warm and so right as it grinded on hers. her thigh went up to his side, and tachihara realized just how much she wanted him. fuck. he couldn't believe he waited so long for this for no reason.
he dropped down to his knees. as soon as she saw him look up, her thighs clenched together and he could feel them shaking in anticipation. he threw one leg over his shoulder and his breath barely hit her pussy before he was eating her out like a man starved.
and she was so damn loud. every flick of his tongue on her clit, every time he sucked on her lips, every thrust of his fingers inside of her, she seemed to get more vocal. at first, it was just curses, mumbling fuck like it was the only word left in her vocabulary. then his name. he'd never heard her say it like that before; she'd called him tachi sometimes, but never michizou. just the sound had him dragging his free hand from her ass down to his erection, palming himself as she kept moaning out for him. it was worse when she'd roll out the praises. fuck you feel so good... michizou, hngg... fuck keep doing it like that, you're so perfect... and she'd gasp as he sucked on her needy pussy and tell him how perfect he felt inside of her all over again.
he couldn't even handle getting her to climax before he lost control. his face was still buried between her legs, but he couldn't concentrate on the way her hips would grind on his face anymore. he needed relief and he needed it fast. she glanced down to find him pounding himself, and her hand at the back of his head gripped down on his hair and yanked him upwards. back on his feet, she brought his lips back to her own before briefly pulling away, spitting in her hand and taking his cock in it.
his forehead was pressed up against hers, but he was having trouble maintaining the kiss through broken moans and grunts. he'd try to bite his lower lip to muffle a whimper, but every time he did, she would just pump him harder until it was impossible to muffle the sounds he was making. every scream from his lips drove her pace to the next gear until he was coming undone under the soft drizzle of hot water droplets, washing down his cum from her stomach.
she took it slower, gentler as he felt so fucking raw from falling apart so fast under her touch. she let go of him and placed his cock between her thighs and pressed them together, letting him rock his hips and fuck them as she kisses him again. her lips get rougher, as she goes from peppering his jawline with love to nibbling on his earlobe to piercing his skin and leaving marks on his neck that won't go away anytime soon. he arcs his neck backwards, tilting his chin upwards to give her better access as she gets greedier and greedier, taste of his flesh intoxicating her.
"michizou..." she sighed into his skin, then brought his face back up to her level, one hand in his hair and the other positioned on his abdomen as her thighs are glistening from the hot water vapor of the shower, her arousal trickling down and the pre-cum already leaking out his tip. "fuck, michizou, your body... you're so gorgeous, I just want to wreck you until you forget your own fucking name." her words weren't particularly sultry or pretty, but the way she was murmuring it into another kiss got him hard all over again.
"baby, can we... bedroom..." the ask barely left her lips before his hands went onto her hips, lifting her up a little bit as they stumbled out of the shower, barely wiped themselves dry with the towels and connected their mouths again as he pulled her to his room. she backed him inside then pushed his shoulders, his back bouncing on the mattress as he realized this was the first time he was seeing her, fully bare in front of him, in his bedroom. just the sight of her perky tits and curves got saliva pooling under his tongue and eyes scanning her hungrily.
she turned her head around, looking in his room for a few moments before opening drawers and boxes like she was in a hurry to locate something. he shot her a look.
"[_____], what are you..."
she pulled out two belts from a drawer with a grin on her lips.
fuck.
she murmured something about not needing to do this if he didn't want to as she climbed on top of him and kissed him gently, but he just rutted his hips upwards in a desperate motion to show her just how much he wanted her.
in one motion, his wrists were tied together with the first belt and pinned above his head. in another, he was biting down on worn leather and a makeshift gag was soaking up all the drool he couldn't control. that was the point: he couldn't control anything. and it felt so fucking amazing.
she kept stealing glances at him as she checked to make sure he was still on board, and when he gave her a slow nod, she flipped him onto his stomach and secured his hips under her own, legs spread out over his ass.
with only her hips, she pushed him downwards so that his dick pushed up against the sheets and the mattress. she knew it wasn't enough to do anything but edge him until he went mad, and no matter how much the bed was shaking and the frame was creaking, it wouldn't be as good as what he felt fucking her thighs. but the view was so damn pretty: his face drowning messily in the sheets, mouth gagged and wrists tied together. she grabbed a handful of his wet hair and yanked him back as she grinded slowly on his ass, dripping lustfully onto him.
it was fun edging him, but the muffled whimpers signaled he was desperate. giving into his desires, she plunged her hand between his parted legs and gripped onto his cock which was humping the mattress. she just held him with a hard grip, and he did all the work for himself, thrusting his hips as well as he could while pinned down by her weight and restrained. tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes. he wanted to tell her how badly he needed her, but the damn gag was turning his pleas into muffled whimpers and moans.
she finally let him out from under her body and flipped him onto his back, but not before stealing in a smack on his ass, which was now coated in her pussy's tears.
"want me to fuck you, baby?" she murmured with a smirk, leaning down to let her lips brush up against the shell of his ear. "is that what you wanna say?"
he nodded hastily, no more shame as now the only thing he could feel was the need for her tight pussy around him. she loosened the gag, then slid it off of his mouth in order to kiss him again. "I wanna hear you. I wanna hear your pretty voice telling me how good I'm fucking your cock, yeah? can you do that for me, michi?"
he couldn't even respond as she lowered herself onto him and dragged a long moan from deep within his lungs, which were on fire. he could barely breathe, he could barely think. all he could do was what she told him and jut his hips upwards to hit her as deep as possible. all the control she had and she couldn't help but curl her toes and dig her fingernails into his shoulders as he screamed out her name and groaned with every thrust. his eyes squeezed shut as he let the feeling wash over him, but they didn't stay that way for long as they locked onto her tits, which were bouncing up and down with her on him, not to mention her face was hot and her hair was still wet from the shower.
it was too much, too fast, despite the slow build up she forced him to endure, suddenly he found himself choking as he tried to tell her that he was close. she was first; walls collapsed around him and she exhaled a thready verse of his name. she finally let him pull out at the last minute, and he came all over himself, stomach coated in the warm sticky liquid. her chest rose and fell with every heavy breath as she watched him, then unfastened the restraints around his wrists.
he wiped his stomach clean with one of the sheets and tossed it somewhere in the corner, a problem for tomorrow, then slipped under the rest of them.
she shot him a hesitant look. "do you want... can I stay?"
he grabbed her wrist and pulled her body onto his, then pressed a lazy kiss on her forehead. "always."
"sap," she teased, snuggling into his warmth and wrapping her arms around his waist. "my dad is gonna go fucking feral when he hears about this."
a gentle chuckle. "isn't that what you've been tryin' to do ever since day 1?"
"shut up, sap," she grumbled into his chest, eyes fluttering shut as she remembers his hair then fluffs it. she craned her neck upwards to get a better look, and smiled softly. "the dye turned out well."
"next time, I'll let the colour grow out," he whispered, dreamy amber eyes looking at her through low eyelids, "since you said it would look cute."
"sap!" she cried out again dramatically, then kissed him slowly again before looking at his face again. "I really did mean it, by the way. when I said that you're perfect to me."
he blushed; somehow, that was what brought the most colour to his face all night. still, he was without a response. he just slid his fingers up her back and pulled her closer. he buried his nose in the top of her head before he thought of a response. "sap."
"shut up."
they giggled and fell asleep in a world where everything was right.
#tachihara michizou#bsd tachihara#tachihara x reader#bungo stray dogs tachihara#tachihara smut#tachihara michizou x reader#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs#bsd#tachihara x reader smut#down bad tm#tachi fics#im unwell for them
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𝒫𝑒𝓉 (𝒮𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)
Kinktober Day 11: Pet play + Sensory Deprivation
I had to revert back to my creepypasta phase to write this story, lol.
Bring back memories of when i was like 16ish and had nightmares for days and sleep paralysis of slenderman before waking up and continue reading them, because i have a problem.
Also like i wanted to do humiliation, i tried to do humiliation but like mr daddy long leg, just doesn’t feel like one that will humiliates their sexual partner, so yeah.
Warning: yeah no you got kidnapped, your like a pet now, tentacles, ooc etc, etc you get the point not for kid
Genre: filthy filthy smut
Word Count: 1696
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You were different,
You were always different,
Uncaring and desensitized to the world,
It wasn’t like you didn’t care, because you did,
You were just…disconnected.
From your feelings and your life, always feeling like an outsider as you watch your daily life happen,
Like your soul was an audience that's watching your body acting on a stage…
So when one day you saw a scribbled note on a tree outside your window…
Well, let's just say you didn’t hesitate to take it, despite your entire being telling you to run and get the fuck out of there.
I mean, what is the fun in life if you don’t take a little risk?
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You stare at the tall humanoid being standing in front of you, before looking up at where his face would be if he had one asking,
“Are you going to kill me?” your tone was indifferent and your eyes held no fear, only curiosity of what is to come,
That intrigues him, how does a mortal like you show such indifference to death? Are you not afraid of the things he could do to you?
Out of impulse he slithered out a tentacle and picked you up by your shirt, before walking back to the mansion.
He has enough time on his hands to keep a pet and to test just how far your indifference will go.
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It's been about 3 months since you have been here, and the curiosity Slenderman has for you has only increased.
After all, not all mortals have the audacity to chase Jeff around the mansion with a chainsaw, after being waken up by him saying,
“Go to sleep!”
The first time he saw it, like the very first day he took you back the entire mansion had the pleasure of witnessing you chasing down Jeff while screaming profanity,
“Go to sleep, my ass! You fucking slut! I'm about to make you go to sleep!”
Slenderman watched in amusement as he wrote down in a journal,
Dislike being woken up in the middle of the night.
“Is that my chainsaw???” Ask one of the proxies watching the chaos,
Good at taking stuff without people noticing
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The entire mansion knows you were Slenderman’s pet/property and you seem to take that role with stride. Fitting in almost immediately with the rest of the proxy.
Most of them had tried to kill you at some point, since Slenderman wasn't going to stop them.
Survival of the fittest after all, you might be his pet but your life was not his concern.
But he was pleasantly surprised to see you managing to fight back and survive against the horror that live within his home.
You are truly entertaining...
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And annoying.
So very annoying.
Do you not understand that he could kill you at a moment's notice?
You probably do, and just simply don't care.
He sighed as you sat on his desk and looked at what he was doing curiously,
“Hello, (Y/N).”
“Hello, Slendy. What you doing?” you ask as you look at the paper he’s writing on,
He tilted his blank face toward you, seemingly studying you before saying, "Making a list of things that need to be done,"
You nodded your head before asking again,
“Soooo is the suit you wear an actual suit, or is it your skin? If it's the latter are you naked all the time? If it's the former where have you been getting these suits?”
Dear god, you always seem to have so many questions.
“That is none of your business, pet. I can kill you in a moment's notice, do you not have the concept of self-preservation?” he sounded annoyed by your never-ending questions,
“Nope none at all,” you said cheerfully,
Your smile was bright and cheerful, but he saw nothing in your eyes. Only the cold indifference to the world around you that he has gotten used to in the last few months.
He doesn’t like that, you’re his pet and you should look at him in either adoration or fear. Not the cold indifference in you have in your eyes right now.
He will teach you to either love or fear him, after all, he hasn’t seen either of those emotions on you before.
Your eyes widen and you let out a panicked scream when he suddenly lifted you up with his tentacles.
One of his tentacles wrapped around your throat, a silent warning for you to shut up, while another wrapped around your eyes. Not tight enough for you to be uncomfortable, but enough to make your field of vision nothing but darkness.
“I think it's time to teach you a lesson, pet,”
Your body trembled as Slenderman's tentacle slipped under your clothing to wrap around your body, your body getting goosebumps from the coolness of his tentacle.
“S-slendy? What the fuck are you doing?” you asked trembling unsure of what was happening,
Slenderman didn’t bother answering you, only using his tentacles to rip through your clothing, leaving your body bared and naked under the frigid night air.
You let out a soft gasp/moan as you felt his tentacles curling around various parts of your body tightly. The lack of sight makes your body more sensitive, as you have no idea what he will do to you next, anticipation and fear coursing through your body.
Slenderman can feel your body tensing up as he begins pushing a tentacle into your fold. Your body shaking in pain from his action.
He has heard of humans feeling pleasure and pain from sexual intercourse, yet he never thought to try it out on you.
Never too late to try, I guess…
He does enjoy the soft whimper that you make as his tentacles play with your body, causing a feeling he’s unfamiliar with in his body.
You let out a scream as he shoved the tentacles forcefully into you, your body clenching tightly around his tentacles as he began to thrust them inside you.
“F-fuck! I-I'm sorry okay? You’re hurting me!” You cried out as he spread your leg apart so he can have easier access to your cunt,
As your cry gets louder and louder, Slenderman can tell you are getting close to your climax.
His assumption was correct when you gave a loud whine and your body shuddered violently around his tentacles. Your juice rushed out from around his tentacles, staining his carpet.
He felt pleased when he saw your mouth open panting from the sensation. Your body flushed a delicious pink, as his tentacles played with your body. He dragged you closer to him so he could study your reaction more closely.
"I wonder how would you feel if I played with you like this more often... Would you enjoy it?" His voice was almost void of emotion except for a hint of curiosity as he held you in his arm forcing you to stay still as his tentacles had their way with you,
“F-fuck…s-slendy take it out… i-im sorry okay? I-i will be good…” you sobbed out desperately as you tried to hold on to him,
With an almost unexpected spark of amusement and curiosity from your reaction, Slenderman pulled his tentacles out of you, leaving you writhing in discomfort and confusion. Just as you try to catch your breath, he slams his tentacle back into you harder than before, causing you to cry out in pain and shock.
As he watches your body convulse on his tentacle, he decides that he enjoys the feeling of doing this to you, to watch you struggle and cry on his tentacles. To watch you who, is usually indifferent to what people do to you, reduce to a crying begging mess.
“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” He asked as he forced multiple tentacles inside you,
You let out a loud desperate cry as you came over and over on his tentacle,
“Y-yes! I learn my lesson, ma-master please!”
The pleasure was breaking your mind and your shell, it was forcing your soul to endure this painful pleasure as Slenderman dealt out his lesson and punishment toward you.
With a dark chuckle, Slenderman watched as you writhed and cried in pain. Your back arched as your body clenched his tentacles tightly. He wondered if you had ever felt such pleasure before, or if you even enjoyed it. Regardless of your feelings, it was his duty to torment his pet in any way he pleased.
The pleasure built inside you, becoming unbearable as your insides trembled from the brutal way he was fucking his tentacles inside you. Your mind is fogged, and you can only scream for it to stop.
As you let out another sob, your body climaxing again, Slenderman finally removed all his tentacles from you, before holding you in his arm.
You sobbed into his chest, your body feeling like it's been abused and run over. You can feel his hand on your back in an almost comforting motion.
Slenderman wrapped his arms around your trembling form, feeling the faint pulse of life against his chest. His mind was filled with curiosity, desire, satisfaction, and a lingering fascination for human pleasure.
He decided that he liked having you feel like this, to have your eyes all glassy as you looked up at him.
To feel like he has tainted and dragged you into the darkness that surrounded him.
You hiccuped one last time as your body calmed down, before slipping your hand under his suit and saying,
“S-so this is an actual suit…” you looked down at the black secretion on your body that was left behind by his tentacles as you continued, “A-are these like your cum? I think there's some inside me, will I get pregnant?”
As you rambled on Slenderman can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead…
Why are you like this?
His arms tighten around you as he begins carrying you to his bedroom, taking care to make sure no one sees the two of you.
“It seems like you need another lesson, pet…”
He has all the time in the world to teach you how to obey him and to discover everything you have to offer…
#no i don’t have problems#reader insert#reader smut#x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2023#slenderman x reader#slenderman x y/n#slenderman x you
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The Birds and The Bees
A.N. I don't usually do many author's notes in Tumblr, but never, never, not once, has a fic ever been so requested, by so many different people, that I feel like I have to.
@i-love-mommy-wanda "Being that she stayed in a room most of her life- just hear me out- a oneshot - of Sam giving her the" TALK!" like birds and bees and where baby's come from I think that would be funny"
@/thequeeranarchist "I don't know if you take requests, but I thought about if someone had to explain the birds and the bees to sunshine considering she probably never had been told about it. Idk, I thought about sunshine and Bucky's first time together too, but I don't know your comfortability with what you write and what you don't. And grumpy x sunshine is officially my favourite trope now bc of this series."
I don't even - I just don't even know what to say. (Please note, that as I write this, I'm quite literally giggling to myself and have quite literally reverted to my awkward 16 year old self) I get requests somewhat regularly, but this, this is the most requested topic. You guys just really wanted to know about this.
Listen, here's the thing, reading second hand embarrassment is one thing. WRITING IT? I was in physical pain, but the scene wasn't going to write itself. I tried, it really didn't write itself.
But I did it. Because I love you guys. And now, it'll be another 5 to 7 business days before I can log back on.
P.S. I know there's other people who requested it too, but I can't find the requests, but please know I didn't forget about you!
Anon's 1K Celebration
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader
Summary: Falling in love is easy, as natural as breathing, so why is talking about it so embarrassing?
"Sam," you frantically call from the doorway, clutching your racing heart, "I think I'm dying."
"What? Why? What happened?" Sam rushes out, frantically searching you for signs of duress.
You double over, hands clutching your sides, "Well, I'm not sure, but I did Google it and I think I'm having a heart attack."
Sam takes a long sigh, resting his hands on his hips in mild exasperation. At least he knew you weren't actually dying. "And why do you think you're having a heart attack?"
"I just," you dramatically clutch your chest, finally standing upright, "My heart feels like it's in my stomach, and- and I'm all sweaty, and fluttery. And I want to curl up into a little ball and die, but maybe also listen to every Taylor Swift song ever written."
"Well, that was," Sam clears his throat, "That was very descriptive."
You flop down on your couch and groan into one of the cushions, "Just leave me here to die."
"You're not dying."
You lift your head to glare at him, "You don't know."
"I do know," Sam insists. "You're a healthy, 25 year old woman, the chances of you having a heart attack are almost zero."
"But not zero," you point out.
Sam sighs, grabbing your hand and pulling you up off the couch, "You're not dying, and you're not having a heart attack."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"If you're wrong, I'll haunt you."
"I'll take my chances," Sam playfully rolls his eyes, "So what were you doing right before you thought you were having a heart attack?"
"I-" you clear your throat, a furious blush warming your entire face, "I don't want to tell you."
He should've known something was wrong right from the get go. You were always so open, so honest about everything. You weren't raised under the same social contract, or any social contract, and you were still learning basic social norms and customs. For better or worse, you were the most honest and open person Sam had ever known.
So for you to be this flustered, this shy and jittery, it had to be something pretty important.
He should've left it at that. He really should've left it at that. But no, like the concerned friend he was, he pressed the topic even more.
He gently nudges your shoulder, taking a seat beside you, "I can't help you if you don't tell me."
You abruptly stand up, awkwardly chuckling. You inch away from him, jutting your thumb back to your room, "You know, now that I think about it, I'm all better, heart attack healed. Good talk, thanks, Sam."
"Come on, just tell me," Sam cajoles, patting the seat beside him. "We tell each other everything."
"I was on the phone."
"Okay..." Sam could count on one hand the number of people that had any means to communicate with you. Hell, he could count exactly how many people had knowledge of your existence with both hands.
It takes Sam a second to realize that he's too lost in his worry to actually hear what you're telling him, "... so Bucky told me we could practice-"
He already doesn't like where this is going. "Practice what?"
"Texting, Sam." You quirk an eyebrow at him, "Are you even listening to me?"
Sam suspiciously nods, settling back into the couch, "Right."
"And we've sort of been texting each other."
"Uh-huh," Sam nods along, though he gets the distinct feeling that he won't like where this is going. Not in the slightest. He physically braces himself as he asks his next question, "So, um, what were you guys talking about?"
You timidly shrug, twisting and untwisting your fingers, "Just stuff."
"Stuff?" Sam dubiously repeats. "Talking about stuff made you think you were having a heart attack?"
"Yes..." It's clear to him that you're lying through your teeth. It's clear that this is as weird for him as it is for you. You clap your hands down on your lap, abruptly standing with up a fierce blush painting your face, "You know what? I completely forgot I have to water my plants!"
"I know you're lying!" Sam calls after you as you scramble away.
"No, I'm not!" you shout over your shoulder. "I'll be back! Maybe! Probably! Definitely at some point!"
This wasn't the first time something like this happened, a strange, slightly uncomfortable situation happening.
This whole living arrangement with you and Sam would probably be called a strange, slightly uncomfortable situation by most people. Most of the time, Sam was able to handle these things on his own.
Having grown up with a younger sister, Sam was fairly comfortable talking about and dealing with certain things. That did not mean he was even remotely prepared or even qualified to explain those things to you.
The first time it happened was about a month into living with each other.
It was just cramps. Until it wasn't.
He phoned it in to Maria Hill.
Crisis averted. Mostly.
Because a couple of months later, another of those awkward situations arose.
The second time was an awkward encounter with a barista at your local cafe.
Apparently, getting breakfast and coffee with a person of the opposite sex first thing in the morning day in and out meant that people could just assume the nature of your relationship. And it wouldn’t have been the most ridiculous assumption if it weren’t for the fact that it absolutely was the most ridiculous assumption.
Sam was just thankful that he was as certain of your feelings as he was of his own.
He'd handled that situation fairly well on his own, even if it did take several days for you two to be within five feet of each other.
And now here he was again. Sitting all alone in your living room, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with this. And that's when he sees it. The scene of the crime sat right before him, right on the coffee table. Your phone.
"You forgot your-" He stops himself from finishing that sentence. Because this wasn't your run of the mill awkward situation, no, this was worse. A lot worse than some nosey barista. So much worse that he thinks about doing something stupid. An overprotective, older brother sort of stupid. He tries to rationalize it, after all, you’d left the phone right there. Right there. Right in front of him. Within his reach. What kind of handler would he even be if he wasn’t keeping a close eye on you?
“No.” Sam suddenly changes his mind, softly muttering to himself, “That is an invasion of privacy. What kind of friend-“
And before he even knows it, your phone is in his hand. And he’s clicking on your messages.
And he’s reading your texts to Bucky.
JBB: What does 'lol' mean?
You: It's either lots of love or laugh out loud. Idk.
JBB: What does that mean? The idk?
You: I don't know.
JBB: I'll ask.
You: No, it means I don't know.
JBB: Oh.
JBB: I know you can't see me, but I'm frowning right now.
You: You make me laugh.
JBB: I like making you laugh.
JBB: But if you tell anyone that, I'll deny it.
You: lol
JBB: Which version of lol was that? Lots of love or laughing out loud?
You: That’s for me to know.
JBB: And for me to find out?
You: lol
"That was smooth as hell," Sam mutters to himself. Sam has to stop at that point. He can’t read any more. He scoffs to himself, “She’s been out a year and flirts better than I do.”
There’s a part of him that’s a little mad. Mostly about your shockingly incredible ability to flirt.
But it also grates on that older brother nerve. The same one Sarah used to love to poke and prod at when they were younger.
He's still sort of in his right mind. At least enough to know that he's out of his element with this one. There’s no way that he can approach you about this. Especially not after reading through your messages.
What even was this? Was it just harmless flirting? Was it you just trying to get out there and socialize with the few people you were allowed contact with?
Or were there feelings there? And, if there were feeling, what kind of feelings?
He rapidly shakes his head trying to rid himself of the idea. That was not an image he needed in his head.
Sam decides in that very moment, this is too far out of his league. He can't handle this. An while might not be able to handle this, he knew someone who could, someone much more qualified than he was. He dials her number right away. She answers on the third ring.
"I need your help," Sam sharply whispers into his phone.
"Why? What's wrong?"
"There is flirting happening over here!"
Maria sighs in relief, "Oh, good, I thought there was a real problem happening."
"Did you not hear me? Flirting, Maria! Flirting!"
"So?"
"Do you know what flirting leads to?" Sam wildly questions.
"No?"
"It leads to... other things - I don't know! And that's why I need your help! I can't deal with this!"
"You can't call me over for things like this."
"I thought you said you were happy to help!"
"I was! I am, but you're supposed to be keeping a low profile. Having me walk in and out of your front door in broad daylight is not low profile."
"So then come in through the backdoor!" Sam pleads.
"Sam," Maria deadpans.
"I know, I know, you're right."
"I know it's a little... uncomfortable, but you just have to deal. Nick wouldn't have picked you if he thought even for a second that you couldn't handle this. It might be a little weird at first, but you've got this."
And he used to be sure that he could.
He used to be great at this job. Catching you up on pop culture? No one better than Sam. Healthy dialogue? Second nature to Sam. Ability to keep you safe? He was doing a damned good job at it if he could say so himself.
Then came the Bucky of it all.
Bucky fucking Barnes.
Sam had half a mind to kick Bucky's ass for making you feel... whatever you were feeling.
Sam's only saving grace was that you'd pretty much become self sufficient in most areas of your life when Bucky came into the picture a few months ago. Since then, things were different. You were different. At first, Sam was sure it was just the excitement and thrill of having a new friend.
He could kill Bucky for making your life more complicated. For making his life more complicated.
Bucky fucking Barnes.
He's so lost in his plot to murder Bucky Barnes that he almost doesn't realize it when you shuffle back into the living room. "Sam?"
Sam's head snaps up, "Huh?"
"I said what are you doing?"
"Um... Just thinking."
"About?"
"What's going on with you and Bucky?" Sam abrasively blurts out.
Your eyes blow wide. "What?"
"Sorry, what I meant to say was - what's going on with you and Bucky?" Sam demands with equal fervor.
"Nothing!" you exclaim.
"Well, I know you're lying!"
"I'm not lying!" you insist.
"I saw you two flirting over text!"
"You read our texts?" Your eyes snap over to the coffee table where you left your phone. Sure enough, it's upright and in a completely different spot. "Are you crazy?"
"No, no, I am not crazy because you two are over there flirting and- and- and flirting and I'm not ready to be an uncle again!"
Both your hands cover your flaming face as you turn to leave the room again, "Oh my God!"
Sam reaches out, grabbing your arm to guide you back to the conversation that he knew deep down just had to happen, "No, no, we are going to sit and we are going to talk about this."
"About what?!" you shriek.
"About this! You know this. The flirting. Dating. Other things. You know what so please don't make me say it," Sam pleads with you, looking every bit as awkward as you feel.
"No, I don't, so no, we're not!"
"You not knowing is the literal reason we have to talk about this!" Sam rants.
You turn to try to leave again, "I'm leaving."
Sam wedges himself in the doorway, physically blocking you from leaving, "Oh, no, you're not."
You try to squeeze past him, "Oh, yes, I am."
"No, you're not!"
"Why not?"
"Because we have to talk about this."
"Why?" you exclaim with a particularly shrill tone.
"I don't know!" Sam throws his hands up. "But we are. And we are going to hate every single second of it. And then we never have to talk about it ever again."
"You swear?"
"I swear," Sam promises, raising his right hand. He gestures to the couch, "If you sit and we have the talk, we will never speak of it again."
"Fine," you grumble under your breath, huffing as you slump onto to the couch.
"Great..."
So you sat.
And you listened.
And you did your best not to cringe at what Sam was telling you. And then it was over. The silence palpable. Your face burning with embarrassment. Sam's face burning with embarrassment. But it was over. It was all said and done.
You both sit on the couch with your hands in your lap, several feet away from each other, not even looking at each other but staring at the turned off television before you. After many, many long minutes of sitting in awkward silence, you turn to Sam with a questioning look, "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we know too much about each other?"
"Definitely starting to."
"Glad we're on the same page."
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
Grumpy Sunshine Series
Anon's 1K Celebration
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy
#anonymityisfunwriter#anonymityisfun#anon's 1k celebration#grumpy sunshine trope#grumpy sunshine#grumpy x sunshine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes#sam wilson#steve rogers#reader insert#x reader#marvel fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky angst#bucky x female reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes au#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine
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so full
| pairing: satori tendou x gn!reader (technically w/o pp)
| warnings: 18+ MDNI. pegging. breeding strap-on. male breeding kink. somewhat bratty tendou? i suck at writing brats, so this is as close as it's gonna get....
| summary: he'd just look so damn cute pregnant.
| wc: 802
| taglist: @aylitgirl , @justanotherpasserby-deactivated , @lyteatus , @unknownspecies , @diorsbrando , @thisbicc , @bakugosgorl , @saccharine-darlin, @peachesncats , @kongkhoi ,
| a/n: i'm a buzzcut tendou hater, so he still has long hair here.
The way his back arched on its own was enough to get you going, his face shoved into the sheets, his breath heavy, adorable whimpers escaping him every time your hips thrusted forward to push every single inch of your strap into him. At one point, he tried to push you back when you grabbed his hips and fucked him a little harder than he was expecting-- But you quickly put an end to that by collecting his wrists in your grasp and holding them against his tailbone. With every new thrust, he jolted forward with a grunt.
"Is that the spot, baby?" you taunted.
He bit his lip, refusing to give in, so you thrusted again hard enough to earn a pathetic, "Fuck-- Right there--"
To which you replied to by going even faster, holding his wrists steady on his back while the other reached around him to quickly jerk him off. His knees gave out, but you held him up the best you could.
"You're so cute like this, 'Tori. You gonna cum all over my cock, hmm?"
Still, he refused to reply.
"What? It doesn't feel good?" You faked a pout and slowed your movements slightly.
Tendou bucked back into you. "Don't stop!"
"What do you want?" you snickered.
"Harder," he mumbled into the sheets.
"Oh? Like this?" You reverted to your fact pace.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-- Just like that-- Fuck-- More--"
"Tell me what you want."
"I wanna cum on your cock, fuck-- Fuck you-- Fuck--"
"That's not very nice, 'Tori." You leaned down to rest your chest against his. "Maybe I should just fill you up without letting you cum tonight." You swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip, earning a shake of his head. "But maybe that's too generous for you... Maybe I should just leave you like this, needy, leaking all over the bed, begging for my cum."
His big eyes looked at you over his shoulder, his red hair falling in his face. "Please..." his voice cracked.
You raised a brow at him.
"Please breed me."
Those were the special words you had been waiting to hear since you had woken up to him running his hands all over your body, mumbling silly things like, “Want you to fill me up so bad…” How could you not jump at an opportunity like that? Honestly, it was as if he was more desperate for you ever since the two of you bought the new strap on that had tubing running through it so that you could cum inside of him. The only other time you had used it, you didn’t put enough of the fake cum in it, so this time you had made sure he watched just how much you loaded into the syringe that was attached to your hip, ready to fill up his tight, red hole.
"That's my good boy," you cooed in his ear as you pressed harder onto his back for balance before fucking him fast and hard, jerking him off at a similar pace. He turned again to moan loudly into the sheets, his knuckles turning white as his hands turned into tight fists. "You're gonna look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you all day." You panted suddenly as you felt him twitch in your hand. "Fuck..." You kissed his shoulder. "You going to take every drop for me?"
He nodded desperately into the bed.
"Good boy. Cum for me."
Tendou's body stiffened-- His hands struggled against your hold, but you refused to let go-- and he suddenly came with a loud groan, his ass taking every inch of you so that you could slowly spill all of the cum inside of him. He moaned again, his knees fully giving out under him. You could only dream of how full he felt. The feeling of the cum being pushed in and trapped... The fullness in his lower abdomen... He was so cute cumming just from being bred by your strap.
"Such a good breeding boy."
He panted. "T-Thank you--"
Slowly, you pulled out of him, watching his hole struggle to adjust around the girth before you popped out, a slight dribble of cum escaping, too. You snickered. It was adorable seeing him so fucked-out. You figured that maybe in a few minutes you could give it another go, fucking him all day, making sure he stayed nice and full so that he was constantly reminded of who he belonged to. You chuckled, collecting the dripping cum with your index finger before pushing it back into him. Satori mewled at the feeling.
"Good boy." You gently patted his ass, then decided to leave him alone to rest. "Don't let any more of it out."
He nodded obediently. "I love you..." he croaked.
"I love you, too, baby."
#op#drabble#fanfic#haikyuu#tendou#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu drabble#haikyuu smut#tendou satori#satori tendou#tendou smut#tendou fanfic#tendou drabble#satori tendou fanfic#satori tendou smut#tendou satori fanfic
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Why Lore Olympus and Miraculous Ladybug are the Same Thing but in Different Fonts
Good evening, good day, hello and howdy. I am INCREDIBLY bored and I'm here to go on a nonsensical tangent about two pieces of media that I hate and have dedicated a vast amount of my free time to. This is all in good fun and all of my rudeness is intended to be satirical and/or comical unless indicated otherwise.
Now just to preface, if you know me then you know how much I dislike Miraculous Ladybug. Folks in my circle got to watch as I descended into madness writing a 64k word review on season 5. So I've spent an uncomfortable amount of time dissecting this show.
I have also spent an uncomfortable amount of time engaging with the shitshow that is Lore Olympus. And now my ass is gonna try and compare the two because there's a lot of shit going on here.
None of this is going to matter and it's all in good fun. Like I said, I am bored. And sometimes it's fun to compare stuff you hate.
Now let the insanity ensue.
FP spoilers and MLB s5 spoilers below the cut btw.
To get a major difference out of the way, Miraculous Ladybug is a tv show. Lore Olympus is a webcomic.
But mediums aside, these two things still have a lot in common. So for the first comparison, I'd like to talk about the insecurity in both properties.
Insecurity
What I define as insecurity in this context is a piece of media that is too afraid to commit or adhere to a certain tone, story, style, etc. In short-- they don't know what they want to be.
Insecurity in Lore Olympus is a bit more obvious than with Miraculous so I'm gonna rant about that first.
Lore Olympus just straight up does not have a story to tell.
There are too many random ass plots being added and discarded on a whim for it to be a coherent story. A good way to explain it is kinda like this-- In this episode of LO, something cool new and interesting is set up and you have to keep reading to see what happens! And then nothing ever happens. Or it happens because the audience won't let the author forget so there's a half-assed attempt to wrap up that plot point.
LO is so insecure about what it is, it feels the need to add more and more to make it actually something. But what it is is a hollow story that lacks substance. So all of these new random plot points are kinda like bandaid solutions if that makes sense.
There are so many unfinished/under-utilized plot points that if you were to count out each and every one, you'd probably keel over dead before you finished. There's that many.
It's too insecure to commit to any one of them in the grand scheme of things.
I don't know how coherent all of that was so here's a shitty tl;dr
LO doesn't know what it wants to say anymore so it's just adding more shit to keep the reader "invested."
Yeah ok I think that makes more sense. As for Miraculous...
God.
I fucking hate Miraculous.
It's insecure as hell and you can smell that shit from ten miles away. It's insecure with it's premise, I think.
If it just kept to the simple "monster-of-the-week" formula, I do not think I would have written so many words on it's fifth season.
Miraculous (apparently) had a grander story to tell beyond the "monster-of-the-week revert back to the status quo each episode."
But we don't see any of that in full swing till season 3, really. Which is a long ass time to get the ball rolling imo.
It's a little jarring to see the show go from the stupid kid status quo adventures to a heavy and emotional story??? And I say heavy and emotional with the most sarcastic tone possible because the only emotion I feel watching this shit is rage.
Despite wanting to make that shift to a serialized type of show, Miraculous was too scared to stray from the successful status quo format.
To explain a bit more I wanna talk about my review of the season.
While it is mostly filled with rude jokes and incomprehensible jargon, I bring up a lot of points in it regarding the state of things.
One of those things being the show's hesitancy to move the story along.
The fifth season was supposed to be a grand final battle and a conclusion to this story arc. But it was too scared to commit to that so there's way more episodes that are nothing but shipping fodder.
There are many episodes that season that just... feel the same. Just with different coats of paint. "Marinette is trying to date Adrien but she's awkward and clumsy and oh no! shenanigans ensue!" We've been doing this for 8 years.
If they want to tell a serialized story then they need to grow some balls and cut the shit we've seen a million times before.
Their insistence to stick to the status quo makes the writing exceptionally weak downright painful to sift through. It was too scared, too insecure, to stray from its formula.
That's a part of the reason why I think the season is paced so bad. There's so little time spent on the interesting parts of the story because they had to cram in as much shipping shit as possible. So by proxy, there was less time to tell a good story.
Both of these stupid ass properties don't know what they want to be. There are too many things being added and not enough balls to commit to any of them.
Now with both LO and MLB, we can all agree that the writing is pretty shit. Nothing new there. But shitty writing often bleeds into the characters and making them shitty by exposure. Almost like a spill of toxic waste, infecting anything near it and turning into a rotten pile of sludge and chemicals.
So yeah, the characters are ass as well. But I only wanna complain about the female leads for both of these things.
But just to mention Adrien and Hades, they are pretty similar. I won't go into detail but the short of it is, "Character with deep seated issues that could have been interesting, has a lot of potential, but is just kinda garbage in the end."
At least Adrien Agreste isn't monetizing death and has a bunch of shades in his basement doing his work.
Persephone and Marinette
So I always say that I don't like using the term 'Mary Sue' to describe a character. But as it turns out, I use that term a lot. So I'm not gonna lie about that anymore.
These two characters are Mary Sues.
Persephone first
Oh my god I hate Persephone a lot. She just ticks every box on my list of 'THINGS I HATE IN A CHARACTER.'
Which is funny because her character had a lot of promise and heart in the beginning.
I related to her a LOT when I picked up this comic before my frontal cortex developed. I related with her character and her struggles. Especially after the Apollo incident. That really stuck out to me. It was so powerful.
But all of those tiny things I liked about her character were stripped away. Her ambition to study in school? Poof, gone. Her charm? Not charming anymore. That kindness everyone in the story gushes about? I don't even think it was there in the first place.
Truth be told, I do need to reread this comic because the beginning is fuzzy as fuck in my walnut-sized brain. But I can tell you for certain that the way she was in the beginning is not who she is now.
And this isn't the case of a character going through an arc and developing and changing. She's just getting worse and the narrative treats it as a GOOD THING.
"Oh yeah, Persephone trashed Leuce's apartment instead of talking to her husband like an adult. She threatened to kill this nymph but you're supposed to find that endearing." Like, what??? I will not have a story try and get me to believe this is a good thing.
If this were a good story, Persephone's actions in that episode WOULDN'T BE REWARDED. But she's rewarded with sex for being a fucking psychopath towards a random nymph. Wow.
And that leads into my next point-- she can never be in the wrong ever.
AOW? Retconned, not her fault. It wasn't her fault she killed all those people. It's actually Eris' fault because she gave her wrath.
Trashing Leuce's apartment? She was in the right for that, apparently.
Killing people in a famine during the 10 year banishment? That's never explored, we just know she killed people, burned a library or something, and probably shot the president too. But it's fine, she's the good guy.
And most recently (and potentially the most frustrating);
Persephone causes winter.
Not her mother, Demeter, no fuck the myths. Persephone is the one who caused winter actually. AND SHE DID IT ON ACCIDENT SO TECHNICALLY IT IS NOT HER FAULT CAUSE SHE DIDNT MEAN TOOOO UWU
She also probably killed a million flower nymphs in that snap freeze but its ok it doesn't matter.
WHAT?
WHAT THE FUCK? CMON NOW.
She's not going to receive any consequences for anything because she is just too perfect.
She's smarter than Athena, prettier than Aphrodite, better than her mother in every way, all the boys want her, she has a perfect body, she's pink, her eyes go red when she's angy, she has the most power of everyone in the world, she's a super rare fertility goddess, she has all the gifts, all the blessings, and none of the development.
It almost feels like a wattpad fanfic.
"My mom doesn't like me so she sold me to one direction and then I became queen of the underworld."
Yeah, I don't like her.
And the same can be applied to Marinette!
A character who is so blatantly perfect, the narrative fucking BENDS TO HER WILL.
She's a creepy ass stalker and has done some weird ass things to get close to this random famous white boy and it's all excused.
It's literally excused.
There is a rule about character backstories. They are supposed to provide an explanation for a character's behavior, not an excuse for it.
In season 5, episode 14 - Derision, we see a bit of Marinette backstory. Some stupid bullshit happens and Marinette essentially says she isn't going to say 'I love you' to anyone unless she knows literally everything about them.
She says a lot in that stupid ass scene but it's basically just saying that all of her stalking and creepy behavior is justified. Which it is not.
Marinette can do no wrong. The narrative won't allow it.
She's perfect in every way. And even when SHE is in the wrong, characters somehow find a way to apologize to her. Either that or she turns a situation about someone else into one about her self.
She's just the perfect character who ends up saving the world.
Fuck having Chat Noir face against his dad in the finale, Marinette has to girlboss all over the place and save the day but then actually lose because the "plot" demands it.
Oh yeah and she's probably never going to tell Adrien that his abusive dad was the villain they had been fighting for months. Do you think that's a good choice? I'll give you a hint; it is not.
It makes Marinette look like a HORRIBLE character but it's painted in a way that makes the viewer believe this is the right decision.
I don't think I need to get into specifics as to why that is wrong and disgusting.
If I had to make a prediction for this show going forward, she isn't going to tell him. It's going to be forgotten and she's going to be painted as the hero.
No flaws, no accountability, nothing.
Garbage character. Fucking hate it.
Both of these characters will never see consequences for their actions. Their bad actions are either excused or retconned out of existence. And that's not how you write a character btw. If you want them to be real, give them consequences. The world should not revolve around them. They should have flaws and issues that should be explored. But apparently that's too much work.
It's funny how both of these properties claim to be about feminism and somehow completely miss what feminism is
Miraculous thinks that feminism means "Girl power! Girls are better than guys in every way!" And Lore Olympus makes no attempt to be feminist at all. Women hate other women, and they don't get a lot of opportunities to explore and express themselves.
I could get into the whole purity culture shtick but that's a shitty rant for another day.
I've been ranting about this for a while and I got the big ones out of the way, methinks. I do want to get into the creators of both of these things but that is also a rant for another day.
Cause if I got into that now, we'd be here a while.
So let me just make a final comparison and wrap things up here. I don't think any of this makes a lot of sense but I hate both things and I'm passionate about it so I'm gonna keep rambling.
Miraculous Ladybug and Lore Olympus never attempt to grow as stories. They are both scared to try new things and to stick with it. Most of the time this results in rushed writing and horribly done characters.
It's so clear that both of these things are desperate to be something great but they just can't put in the work to get there.
Honestly, they both feel like the product of a team of yes-men. Bad decisions and errors slip by WAY too often and it's kind of embarrassing.
These are popular pieces of media and they have the resources to be great but they just aren't.
They're both too insecure to make something of themselves.
It's honestly really sad and I don't want this for either of these things. I want LO to be stunning and retell the myth of Persephone with the respect it deserves. I want MLB to be a serialized show with focus on the lore. Sure it can start as episodic but it can ease us into a deeper story and intrigue the viewer. But I want it to flesh out the world and be an entertaining experience.
It's sad but it's the way it is.
Who knows, maybe MLB season 6 will be good. And maybe LO will have a 4th season and it'll fix all the problems it has.
I dunno.
Thanks for reading this incoherent nonsense.
#This is a really random comparison between media so if you see this and are confused im so sorry#i got bored#anti lore olympus#lore olympus critical#anti lo#lo critical#unpopular lore olympus#unpopular lo#anti miraculous ladybug#ml salt#ml critical#ml criticism
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Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged in. (it's me, Lou!)
The time is here, and oh man, do I have a lot to say! Ever since this post was posted on my personal tumblr, on the fifth of may, I have been working like a machine on all things OUROBOROS. I had originally planned for this to just be a progress report/ announcement on what I will be working on now that I am free of the shackles of work, but, somehow, I managed to finish all bullet points, and more. So, let's get into it!
First off, the title.
Ouroboros becomes all capitalized OUROBOROS.
Idk. It's neat. Next!
Art. Whew. I didn't think I could draw like this anymore- drawing has been more of a struggle than writing has been, forever, always- it was something I really strived to become good at, for a time. And I gave up. Only to pick it up again when I started ouro, and ever since I released that pressure, something just clicked and I have been churning out art like never before. I don't know if this is a fluke, a stroke of luck or if all that hard work I once did slaving away with menial art practice… but I'm grateful nonetheless. (A note on official RO art: I lost my ipad pencil somewhere on the lawn, lmao. I haven't been able to get a new one yet, so there is a slight delay here.) I am hoping that I get to make some commissions too, in the near future.
Visit the forum to see some works in progress (amongst them, Yor's RO portrait!)
Onto the hellscape that is coding! I have been growing more proficient with CSS and html with the help of the ones that run so that we can walk; I have studied and researched and tested and tinkered until my eyes crossed, finding my way into this medium with the incredible guidance of the giants of whose shoulders I stand on. I will talk about this in detail on a later date.
So I think it's finally time to reveal that yes, I am working on a twine version of ouro. I will develop it in tandem with choicescript; the porting over from one to the other isn't the herculean task I thought it would be.
Why am I doing this? Because I need to have a save system. I am continuing to write the whole alpha draft in choicescript in hopes that CoG will announce the ability to have a native save/checkpoint system, but if that doesn’t happen, I can’t publish this story without one. Unfortunately, I am not willing to code in a savesystem in choicescript myself, because this will be a large game, with far too many variables for that to be sustainable. Trust me, no one is more disappointed by that fact than me. If it comes to the point that twine publishing will be what I do, I will set my sights on writing a smaller game for hosted games.
Now the meatier announcements!
New Socials!
Tumblr: You are looking at it! This is the new, exclusively OUROBOROS blog where I will share all announcements and sneak-peeks, and future updates. I worked together with the dev of the theme and made it oh, so pretty and functional. Please check out their portfolio here, if you are ever in the market for sprucing up your (desktop version) of tumblr. They were a pleasure to work with. Amongst other things, it has a gorgeous header (again, only if you visit on web and not mobile) where I am showcasing fanart and official art. Go check it out! This month, I am showcasing a truly breathtaking art from KAIRELART, and you can find the full art here, or follow the links in the “FEATURED ARTIST” tab in the top bar.
I hope you enjoy this new haven for OUROBOROS! I will be answering questions once a week (saturday) and ramping up as I adapt to this new schedule, more on that further below.
My old tumblr, honeypeabrain, will revert back to being my personal blog. Feel free to keep following me there, but know that it will be inundated with shitposts, crass humor and the occasional poetry dump and personal post. You’ve been warned!
Discord!
By the good graces, this was ROUGH to set up. Working with discord bots is akin to wrangling code, and it was well and truly, a war. But with the help of many, it is finally all done and ready for anyone to join and talk to me and others about OUROBOROS and anything else between heaven and earth.
I will also greatly appreciate if any future bugs and feedback are submitted through here, so I can keep easier track of it. Come join us! (18+ ONLY.)
Patreon & Ko-Fi
Yep! Ko-fi is just a place to toss me a coin if you wish to help me towards the goal of new PC parts to make testing easier, or to just show appreciation for those that have it to spare. Patreon however, already has a multitude of posts and will be a hub for exclusive NSFW sidestories that you get to vote on, loredives and extensive sneak peeks, Q&A’s, polls and weekly dev logs.
Right now, there are only two tiers, but I expect it to grow as my story does. I have many plans, but I am going at a steady pace.
Amongst tiered content, there is a (free) NSFW story with female MC and Idren to read there right now, if you want to check it out! I am mgoing to post it on tumblr and the adult thread here over the weekend.
NOTE: I stupidly didn't realize that patreon had a review process after I pressed launch, which I did just a few minutes ago. Sigh. I am going to post the short on tumblr and the adult forum thread as soon as I get to it.
It is not mandatory by any means, so if you do choose to support me, you have my eternal gratitude as these places will be the sole source of income for me.
Onto writing:
The best news out of this whole bunch is that I have worked so hard on editing and writing, that in the past month I have all but finished a two chapter update! I have a chunk of about 5-6 thousand words left to write, and I am going to buckle down over the weekend to see it through. I wanted to have it done so badly for today, but I lost three days of writing time last week due to still being weighed down with work. I hope it isn’t too disappointing to have to wait until monday for the demo update! I am going to post a link to an as-I-write updated demo on Patreon and Discord, if you want to see the ugly face of raw wip drafts. Otherwise I will post the demo update here on Monday with a comprehensive post!
And now! the biggest news is… from now on, I am writing full time!
This is what I have been tossing and turning about every night ever since Easter. It started as a silly idea while talking to some friends and family about how I was looking for a change in career. And then, little by little, that idea whittled down to a plan, carefully carved by my partner and his whispers of a happy future, a finished dream project, and something to be proud of until the day I wither and die.
Somewhere between then and now, I grasped a tiny sliver of bravery and held on for dear life.
I quit my job as a teacher, and instead of accepting a cushy office job, I started behaving as if OUROBOROS and writing was my work (for all the moments I could afford). I have researched and tried different methods from week to week, and although I was still tired from work, I felt like I was onto something that could build into a sustainable future.
I have no doubts that this journey will be bumpy and long, but sometimes all it takes is to take that first step, and do it with determination. It might all crash and burn and fail in a spectacular way, or with a whimper, but then I will know that I have tried. I will know that I gave myself the chance to be who I want to be, work on what means so much to me.
And that’s it. I think the hardest part of formulating this post (I’ve written about 50 versions of it!) is getting to the point; the kernel of what makes it so special to me. So, in my heart of hearts, what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm gonna give it my all- and while I know the road to having a sustainable career in writing is rough and ever winding, I do know for sure that I am ready for a challenge, to pour my heart and soul into it until the day I rush out of the office screaming IT IS DONE. IT IS DOOOOONE!!!
If you decide to join me, I will treasure your company like a lantern in the dark. Hand in lovable hand, let’s fucking go.
#OUROBOROS#ouroboros-if#interactive fiction#hosted games#CYOA#twine#dev log#progress update#honeypeabrain#smacking tags on this post like they're skittles im aiming into a beasts mouth#I DIDN'T REALIZE PATREON WAS GOING TO REVIEW MY PAGE (literally cried about it because I planned everything so meticulously) SOB#anyway :') but a small stepping stone on the long journey ahead#I am going to take the dog for a long walk and then upload the demo/spicy short as I say hello to anyone joining the disc#I hope to see you there :>
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Can you write a funny little TFA MegOP thing where they're already together. Lets say cuddling in their berth, and suddenly Optimus has a thought.
"How did we even get together?"
"Hm?"
"No, I'm being serious. How did it happen? You are.. were? A war criminal. I put you in jail. How are we together right now?"
"..."
------
LIKE. IDK IT WAS FUNNIER IN MY HEAD. SO EITHER 1. Some otherworldly being (a fanfic writer) manipulated them and the world around them. Making them be together. But now the writer is gone after giving them their happily ever after.. But the characters revert back to how they were in cannon. Vaigely knowing what allowed them to get to this point, but not really understanding anymore how or why?
Or 2. Optimus forgot and wants Megatron's pov on how they got together. Either way, I know that even if you write little for this, it will still be hella entertaining :3
Ooooooh that's such a nice and cool idea tho! sadly, I'm not taking requests since I'm an INCREDIBLY slow writer, and life is also getting in the way ahahahah
Believe me, I would have done in other circumstances, and this idea has a LOT of potential! I am a sucker for the "how did we even end up here???" trope too, but you would either have to wait a long(immense) amount of time ahahah.
Hey if you want to write it yourself I could give you a couple ideas or advice if you'd like :3, otherwise I'd say see if there are other writers who take requests or commissions, I could redirect you to a couple of them :)
For now I can at best give you this little drabble for the second idea since it's really cute:
~~~~~~~~~~
"It just happened"
"Wake up" Megatron felt someone flicking at his nose and then shaking him when the action gave no response.
"Wake up!" This time that someone went for the helm, the bang of the collision rang in the otherwise quiet room.
"What?" Megatron opened one optic and glared at his disturber, Optimus Prime.
"How did we end up together?" He asked with an almost accusing expression
"Huh?" What did he even mean by that
"You heard me" Optimus scoffed
"What like... you don't remember?" He started going back with his own memory banks and backups, He would have been more worried about Optimus apparent amnesia if he weren't struggling to find an answer to that absurd question.
"Do you?" Optimus crossed his arms
Megatron stayed silent for a while... he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment they had become a thing. Centuries, no, millennia of circling around one another after signing the peace treaty, spending more and more time together, fighting, bantering, provoking each other, speaking about personal topics, binding while annoying each other to death had, at some point, led them to fall in berth together.
They had kept falling into each other's berth since then... and now they were here.
So there wasn't really an answer to that question, not a typical one at least.
Megatron cleared his vocalizer "I... I guess it just happened" he answered at last.
Optimus seemed to reflect on this answer before humming "are you happy with this?"
Megatron though about it, he really was, sure there were invisible limits they never actually crossed but at this point they lived like a conjunx couple, minus the status and the spark merging... but Meagtron found the though of Sharing his spark with Optimus not to be as dreaded as he anticipated... he almost- longed for it.
"Yeah..." he said smiling softly and bringing the smaller mech closer to him "a lot" and his servos started shifting over his lover's frame delicately almost in worship.
"Do you want more?" The question could be interpreted in two different ways and Megatron wanted to answer yes to both.
"When it comes to you I always want more" he answered looking at Optimus, his lover's gaze was so bright and full of love he felt like it would melt the metal of his frame.
"I... also want more. Everything." he whispered with his lips ghosting over Megatron's.
Megatron closed the distance between them and kissed him. "And you will receive it"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you like it, it's incredibly short :)
#transformers#maccadam#steel rambles#megatron#optimus prime#should I open requests for this kind of small drabbles and scenes?#idk#tfa megop#megop#steel writing#yeah i can't use the steel monologues fornthis one#babe wake up new tag just dropped#maccadams#fanfic
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𝒱𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 (𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒱𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓍 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)
Kinktober Day 28: Body Worship + Cockbulge
I have finally reverted back to my true form where i write a 1k oneshot then realize fuck im suppose to be writing a smut
Warning: definitely rapey, a few account of murder, etc, etc you get the point not for kid
Genre: filthy filthy smut
Word Count: 2425
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Miguel snarled as he leaped towards you, teeth snapping as he attempted to rip off your arm.
“Whoa whoa, I'm not into that!” you yelled as you lunged forward, claw extended to attack him right back,
Miguel quickly ducks out of the way and hisses at you, his eyes filled with anger and hatred.
"I'll make you love it." He said before trying to attack you again,
“A bit kinky aren't we?!” You managed to yell before using a tentacle to pin him against a wall,
Miguel struggled as he cursed at you, desperately trying to get out of your grasp.
“You fucking pathetic hero! I will kill you, I will fucking kill you!”
You rolled your eyes taunting him,
"What are you gonna do? Bite me? Oh… Wait, you already tried that, didn’t work very well did it?"
Miguel's eyes glow red as he growls, his muscles and veins flex as he glares at you. Before suddenly freezing as he looked at you and said something that nearly made you choke.
"You're....kinda cute..."
“W-what?!”
Miguel looks at you again, no longer struggling to get out and chuckles clearly enjoying your reaction. He tilts his head slightly and puts one hand on his hip.
"You heard me, I said you're cute. Does it surprise you that the most notorious villain in the city has a liking for you?"
“We’re fighting! We’re fighting each other and you just said you will kill me! What is wrong with you!” You yelled, wrapping a tentacle around his mouth and stopping him from saying anything else, as your face burned with embarrassment,
You hold him in the air as you begin to walk toward the villain's confinement. Your tentacle slipping a little allows Miguel to yell at you the entire way there.
"You can't hold me forever, I'll get out, I'll get out of here.. And then..."
You hold both hands to your ears before saying,
“Nope can't hear you.”
Miguel groan a faint blush on his face,
"I hate you."
“Me fucking too,” you said before finally reaching Miguel’s cell,
As you drop him onto the floor you look down at him from the roof, kicking your leg as you do so.
Miguel grunted as he hit the floor of the cell, he laid there for a second and sighed.
"This is stupid."
“I know, so have fun and be good,” you said smiling and waving at him,
Miguel groans in annoyance at your cheerful attitude,
"I hate you..." he mutters angrily,
You grin before winking at him and saying, “I know, love you too” before disappearing from the cell leaving him alone,
Miguel stares at the spot where you once were before sitting up and rubbing his face, he groans loudly in annoyance.
"Stupid, hero.." His tone is soft as he lays back down on the floor, his face red,
"Love..?" He pauses to thinks about what you said,
He never had anyone tell him they loved him before, even if it was a joke,
He buried his face into his hands.
"Stupid…Stupid...Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" He mutters to himself, mentally chastising himself for liking you,
Miguel slowly starts to think back to your fight and he replays the moment in his head when he said,
"You're…kinda cute..."
Before looking up at the wall of the cell and starts to laugh,
"I said that? I actually said that!!!"
His chuckling grows darker as a sinister smile spreads across his face. He looks at one of his claws and grins.
"I said that because it was true, I said it because… " He stops and sits up staring at the wall before saying to himself, “…I said it because I want her..."
Leaning his head against the wall he sighs,
"What could I do about it??"
He thinks about it for a few moments then smirks.
"What am I going to do about it?"
idea popped into his head and he began to laugh maniacally,
"Why not? Why the heck not?" as the thought of making you his entered his mind.
A devilish smile spreads across his face.
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Miguel sits in his cell as he waits for night to finally fall.
The moon and stars peek through the bars of his cell as the city slept.
Miguel's face filled with determination as he looked around the empty cell before pulling out a device destroying the wall and making his way to the city.
I can't wait to find her...
Miguel's eyes glow with desire as he stalks through the streets.
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You yawned as you looked down into the city. Your tentacle traveled through the shadow, making sure no one was getting hurt as you sat on the ledge.
Fuck I want to sleep
Miguel stalks through the street before spotting a tentacle creeping into the shadow. You’ve just saved someone from being mugged.
As he spotted you he quickly walk toward you.
Mine
You turn around when you hear him walking toward you,
I'm too tired for this shit tonight
With a groan, you asked,
“How many of you escaped this time?”
Miguel chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you.
"Only one of us, dear hero."
He smirks and takes a step closer to you, his eyes filled with wants. He seemed to tower over you as his smirk remained on his face.
"And I'm the only one that'll be escaping tonight."
You looked at him completely dazed from tiredness and said,
“You look comfy?”
He looks at you puzzled,
"Comfy? You're telling me I look comfy?"
Without warning you wrapped several tentacles around him, before clinging onto him yourself and teleporting both of you into your room.
Miguel snapped out of his shock as he stared at you,
"Why are you taking me to your room? Do you want to sleep with me? Doesn't seem very heroic does it?” He whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your skin,
“Actually, yeah?” you said blurrily before lying on his chest,
Okay this is comfy
Wrapping your tentacles around him tightly making sure he can't escape, before falling asleep almost immediately.
Miguel's body froze as he heard your quiet breathing, your body warm and soft against him.
"You belong to me, you're mine. And nobody else's.." He whispers to you as he kisses your neck and his hand moving to your waist,
“Shut up… go sleep” you mumbled in your sleep as you felt his hand on your body,
Miguel continues to kiss your neck and nuzzle you as he holds you close
"My love… My cute little hero..."
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Miguel is not having a good day, and he's furious.
He thought he was special until reality hit him like a truck.
He wasn't the only one you dragged into bed because you were tired and certainly wasn't the last, judging from the fact that every other villain is already planning on breaking out for a chance to sleep with you again.
He hadn't realized how popular his little hero was among the villains.
He punched the wall as unadulterated rage and jealousy filled him.
I want her to want me and only me…
He can feel the rage and jealousy building up inside of him, and he's ready to do anything to make you his and only his.
"I'll kill them all.. I'll make it so I'm the only one who belongs to her."
He chuckles darkly to himself,
"I'm going to be the only one that my hero wants and needs. No one is allowed to touch her but me…. No one is allowed to be with her but me… NO ONE BUT ME!”
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Something was off.
Your villains seem to have gone missing.
There hasn't been an attack in weeks.
Suddenly you noticed Miguel walking towards you grinning manically and covered in blood.
"My my.. No more competition now." He lunged toward you and wrapped his arm around you tightly "I'm the winner, little hero~~"
“What?” You blinked confused but didn't push him off,
Noticing your confusion Miguel nuzzled into your neck and whispered darkly,
"Tell me, do you have a favorite hero or villain? I can get rid of them too~”
Finally realizing that Miguel was the reason behind the missing villain, you quietly ask,
“What did you do, Miguel?”
"Me?.. I just dealt with them, they're not a problem anymore…The reason why all those villains are missing? I killed them all."
He laughs maniacally as he tightened his hold on you,
"And I'm planning to kill more until I'm the only one..."
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“Every hero has a weakness and I know exactly what’s your weakness, little hero, ~”
Miguel purred as he stuck both your wrists to the wall, rendering you motionless.
He had injected you with a serum of some sort, completely nullifying your power.
“Why?” You asked confused, he could just kill you so why did he do this?
Sensing your confusion Miguel leaned down and kissed your neck,
“Because I'm going to do so many worse things to you…”
Your eyes widen when Miguel kisses you aggressively, his hand roaming down your body, kneading your chest roughly as he forces your mouth open.
Groaning into the kiss his free hand slipped down your body and cupped your ass, determined to touch every single part of your body.
You tried to struggle against him but Miguel wasn't having any of it, growling he let go of your lip and bit down on your neck drawing blood,
“Be a good little hero, I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to.”
“Miguel… what the fuck…” you said as you glared at him panting,
Miguel only grins before ripping off part of your suit revealing your breast and taking your nipple into his mouth.
Your back arched and your face flushed as you felt your arousal from the way he was touching you.
“S-stop, Miguel…”
“Why would I, little hero?” Miguel mumbled as he bit down on your breast, his hand forcing your thigh open and grinding his hip against you,
Your body froze as you felt his claw ripping away the fabric near your crotch and panties.
Miguel moans into your neck, wrapping your leg around his waist and his rough fingers pushing into you roughly, causing your body to tremble.
"Fuck, your body is so responsive, just like the way I want it. You don't know what it feels like to have you writhing under my control."
You bit down on his neck aggressively as your body clenched down on his fingers, your body shaking in pain from how roughly he was thrusting inside you,
Miguel's breathing quickened as he noticed the sudden aggression you displayed. He smiled cruelly, finding it more arousing than anything. Pulling back slightly, so he could properly see the look of pain and pleasure on your face.
“You look so pretty like this, trapped under me and your body shaking in pain~” His fingers digging into you deeper as he kissed your skin, “Such a pretty body for me~”
You gritted your teeth refusing to let out any noise as he had his way with you, only your slight tremble proving how much pain you were in.
Growling Miguel kissed you and gripped your neck tightly before pulling his fingers out of you, smearing your fluid across your suit.
“If you don't want to make a noise then you don't have to, little hero…” pinching your nipple harshly and extracting a pained yelp from you he continued, "I'm going to break you, hero. Mold you into the perfect little plaything for me and for me alone.”
Pushing one of your legs into your chest, he aims his cock at your wet fold before slamming his cock into you. Your body arched upward painfully as your eyes were stained with tears from the pain.
Miguel groaned as he felt your tight walls clamping down on his cock, your tears falling from your face. His grip tightened around your neck, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he began to thrust deeper, his eyes glowing a crimson red.
"Feels so good to finally have you completely mine, little hero," Miguel growled, his voice filled with desire and lust. His claws tightened around your throat, squeezing as his thrusts became less gentle and more brutal. “Such a tight and pretty cunt just for me…”
His claws dig deeper into your skin, you scream silently and your eyes roll back in pain. Your breathing was labored as you felt tides of pleasure trying to wash away the pain.
Already you were cumming onto his finger, your body convulsing as you let out a loud whine. You didn't want to but you couldn't control your body, overridden by pleasure.
Miguel grunted when he felt your body clenched tightly around him, making it almost painful to thrust inside you.
Miguel harshly slapped your ass leaving behind a red welt as he said,
“Relax a little, little hero…”
“F-fuck y- haaaa!” You let out a gasp as you felt him pounding into you,
With a feral growl, Miguel felt his body react to your tight cunt around his cock, his claws dug deeper into your skin and he rubbed your clit harshly.
You dug your claw into your palm as you tried to hold back your cry of pain and pleasure.
Miguel's hungry gaze bore into your eyes as he watched your body convulse under him, your body shaking with overstimulation as he brought you from one climax to another.
"Tell me little hero… does the fact that I'm fucking you dumb where anyone can see you, in the city you swore to protect excite you?" he pressed a kiss on your shoulder, his voice dark and sadistic as he splayed his hand on the bulge evident on your stomach, “…after all your body is clenching around my cock so perfectly…”
You involuntarily clenched down on his cock tighter than his word and with a groan, Miguel forced his way into your womb before coating your inside with his cum.
“Im going to fill you up with my cum, little hero. Going to make you carry my child, mi vida…”
Your body shook and trembled as his cum filled you up, your eyes watering with tears. Miguel grin as he ripped the web off your wrist and held you tightly against his body.
Your abused and swollen cunt dripping his cum as he kissed away your tears and whispered into your ears,
“You can only be mine, little hero. No one else…”
#no i don’t have problems#reader insert#reader smut#x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2023#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel smut#miguel x y/n
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Hey Mike, can you talk about your work on Revival? What was it like reading the book, writing the script, making it all work? I know people thought it was going to be like Midnight Mass, but King is tackling religion far differently & I would have loved to see your adaptation of that. Furthermore, why did you decide to leave the project? I read somewhere it had to do with the film rights, but I’m sure there’s more to that story & id love to hear your side of it.
Also, Life of Chuck…. 1.85:1 or Scope? C’mon, Mike! Spill the beans!
Thanks!
I was very excited about Revival. King had given me the rights after I finished the script for Doctor Sleep, and we took it around town as a pitch. Warner Bros. picked up the project and commissioned the script.
I wrote a script I love, and turned it in to Warner Bros. It couldn't be more different than Midnight Mass; that was always a very weird and unfair comparison. The only thing they have in common is that each story features a priest; any comparisons wouldn't have survived opening weekend, that was never really a thing.
Revival is one of King's scariest and most effective books, and I was madly in love with the movie. I stayed very true to the book, and the story spanned over decades. It was a character-forward epic about mortality, and the futility of hope, dealing with themes of lost love, addiction, and hubris. In fact, it has way more in common with Frankenstein than Midnight Mass, and I was stoked to make it. It wasn't cheap, though - the set pieces were big, the VFX budget was intimidating, and it fit into a type of budget that isn't typically made these days.
For those reasons, ultimately, after Doctor Sleep's disappointing performance at the box office, Warner Bros. didn't want to pursue the movie. They had really liked the Frankenstein comparisons, but that only comes into play at the very end of the story. Their pitch was to start the story there, and jettison most of the actual novel in favor of a new, heavily Frankenstein inspired narrative. It was a bridge too far, and changed the source material too radically.
Warner Bros. faith in the project had been seriously damaged by the box office performance of Doctor Sleep, and the character-forward epic I was pitching was just too risky given the hefty price tag. Ultimately, I wasn't willing to change the story as drastically as they wanted to, and it just didn't make sense to make it for that budget - so they opted not to make the film, and that was that. I didn't leave the project at all - the studio just didn't want to move forward with it.
Revival is not the most obvious project. It is more expensive than a lot of comparable horror titles, and we didn't want to do it as a streaming movie - we bet the farm on a theatrical feature, and the cards didn't fall in our favor this time.
My window of availability as a director rapidly closed. I was heading fast into Midnight Club and Fall of the House of Usher for Netflix, so without a viable attachment from me for at least a few years, the project couldn't move forward at all, and the rights reverted back to Stephen King.
We discussed whether we wanted to try to keep it alive, but we were already deep into talks about The Dark Tower, whose rights were about to become available after years of being tied up. Steve doesn't like to give the same person multiple rights as a general rule, because he doesn't want his projects to stall out in development, which makes good sense. Given the choice, we absolutely wanted to focus on The Dark Tower. We let Revival go, and last I heard, some other people were developing it as a TV project.
I absolutely love the script I wrote, and I'm disappointed that Warner Bros. didn't want to make it, but it's their studio and their prerogative. I can't say I blame their reasoning. In fact, I completely see their point. I could have dug in and fought harder to keep it, but that might mean I wouldn't have gotten the rights to The Dark Tower.
And I hate to say it, but Revival would have taken a similar narrative approach to Doctor Sleep, and - well - audiences just didn't show up for that movie. It's entirely likely that the same would have happened here - this was another long, character-centric story that wasn't entirely a mainstream horror tale, and it was expensive. And this didn't have The Shining connection to lean on. I am so sorry to say this, but I don't have a lot of faith that audiences would have supported us if we'd bet the farm on a theatrical release of Revival as I wanted to make it. So honestly, I think it all worked out for the best.
You win some and you lose some in this business. Who knows, maybe it'll come back some day - I also lost the rights to Gerald's Game back in 2014 when we couldn't find a partner who wanted to make the movie. They eventually came around again, and the timing worked out. The same could happen here - maybe we get another chance, or may we revisit it down the line as a limited series. Stranger things have happened. Ka is a wheel.
Or, maybe this new television production of Revival will get off the ground, and if it does I wish them nothing but the best with it. It's a phenomenal story, and I'll be first in line to see it.
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