#that will give them all slightly different feels and balancing :) i wanna make them all like mini pokemon in a way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

distantdarlings · 6 months

Text

HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Pyramids - Frank Ocean

---

You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.

“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.

“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”

Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.

“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”

“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you.

“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.

“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room.

None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them.

You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation.

You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion.

Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you.

You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.

You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.

Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party.

You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific.

There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.

Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo.

“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car.

“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you.

You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.

“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”

You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.

“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.

“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding.

As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.

You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.

“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.

If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you.

You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment.

His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways.

You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl.

The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.

Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question.

He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.

“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.

“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening.

“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”

“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.

“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”

“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.

“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.

“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.

“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you.

He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress.

You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning.

You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact.

“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him.

Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much.

He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.

His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million.

There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit.

Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.

“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.

“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours.

No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.

He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer.

He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.

“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.

It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you.

“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”

“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.

“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged.

“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.

Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for.

Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile.

“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.

“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #hogwarts fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

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angelltheninth · 10 months

Note

How would the men of Arcane make love to fem!reader while they spend a night of intimacy together? Passionately? Sensually? Intensely? Roughly?

Sure thing Anon!

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Silco, Vander, Ekko, Marcus, Finn x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, kissing, rough sex, gentle sex, fingering, dirty talk, cuddles, aftercare, size difference

A/N: Love that I'm still getting Arcane requests even though the fandom seems to have died down a little.

Viktor is sensual and rough when he makes love with you. Sensual with his words, rough with his fingers and when he thrusts into you. It's the duality of him, kind of in the same way where he seems really cute and meek but is actually pretty cocky behind closed doors.

He always balances his sweet talking with the same amount of his cock hitting at just the right angle inside of you to get your eyes to roll into the back of your head. Will praise you to no end, but in between every word he will make sure he gets a good thrust in to keep you on your toes, and your back arched.

"Thought you liked it when I talked all sweet to you, darling. Was that a lie? No, no, I'm not saying you lie to me all the time, just when you really crave this dick. You should be honest, I love you and I love giving you what you want, so don't even try to tell me to shut up now okay? I know it makes you tighter when I talk."

Jayce is the most passionate guy you've ever made love to. He puts his all behind everything he does, weather that be the candle-lit path to the bedroom, the foreplay where he's on all fours and eating you our or when he has you on all fours and hammering your cunt like there's no tomorrow.

No way will you be able to even think of any other man when he shows you what he can do for you. He dedicates his all to your pleasure, his is secondary to you. In fact the most pleasure he will get is when he sees you that you're enjoying what he's doing for you, to you.

"Here's good right? Doesn't hurt? Good, with my size it can be a little tricky. All out then, fuck... been waiting for you to say that all night. Babe, I'm about to ruin you. Oh you bet, gonna make you lose count of your orgasms, I wanna make you feel the best you've ever felt."

Silco is very intense and can get very rough if the situation calls for it. He really likes to show his power over you and make every experience better then the last by making you wait, by edging you a bit longer until you come to the point where you're the one hoping on his cock when the doors slam shut.

There are few people he enjoys spending time with and you're definitely one of them, weather its you bent over his office desk, cockwarming him while he goes over the papers, or choking on his cock all day under the desk, he likes having you close and he likes when you know he's the boss.

"A break? We just got started darling. That was just two, there's still a lot more to go. If it's gonna make it easier you can rest by getting under the desk a little. If I feel that mouth, or your hand stopping for even a second you're gonna give me two more orgasms. Understood? Good girl."

Vander can get very passionate and rough but he always follows it up with a really long cuddle and aftercare session. That's something he likes slightly more then the sex itself. It's good, its really good, having your warm pussy stretched around his huge cock, but he can't say he doesn't love it how you cuddle up on top of him after.

He always prepares you for his cock but the prep can be just as rough as the sex itself since its so easy for him to get lost in the whimpers and moans that you make when he adds another finger. And then another. Your hip and thighs are sometimes bruised with a very big handprint. You don't always hide it either.

"Easy darlin', I know you're as horny as can be but you know as well as I that you can't me right away. Its frustrating? Well I'm sorry for being big, nothing I can do about it. I'll get you there don't worry. In the mean time, tell me, how was your day? You thought of me? That's very flattering, I couldn't stop thinking about getting my hands on you either."

Ekko is a very sensual lover and a bit on the calculated side as well. A lot of his plans tend to go a little astray when he sees you naked but eventually he's able to get you right where he wants you and make you feel good.

He cannot stop touching you while he makes love to you. He needs to feel your body quivering every time he jolts his hips forward and buries his cock to the hilt, every time you bite into his neck to muffle your next moan because you know how cheeky he can be and go from slow to fast and then to slow again in order to make it last longer for the both of you.

"You keep messing up my plans Firefly. I was gonna sweep you of your feet, make it all nice, romantic for you, but you had to go and make me this hard right away. I can't focus on romance like this, all the blood's rushing to my cock. Fucking gods, getting on your knees is not making it any better. Well... maybe a little bit."

Marcus is rough and intense because in all honestly he feels like he doesn't deserve what he has with you. He needs to make sure he's not dreaming, that you're real, that you love him despite all his damn mistakes, that you can handle everything he has to give.

When he really gets into it there's hardly any stopping him until he's spent and laying almost limp on top of you, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your face, almost like he's saying sorry when there's nothing for him to be sorry for. You always assure him that when you allow him to be rough, its because you want him to be, he's never hurting you unless you need him to, and he never will.

"Did I overdo it? You'd tell me if I did right? No, I know you can be my pretty painslut, I love that side of you sweetheart, you know I do. Just trying to make sure. You think you can take more? Your pussy's already so sensitive, it keeps pulsing around me, squeezing out all the cum, are you sure? One more round then."

Finn is very rough with you and is proud of all the ways he makes you whimper and moan and even cry on occasion. There is a safeword for you to use but he's rarely heard it from you so he's very familiar with your limits by now. He really likes to manhandle you and use your body as his pretty fucktoy, you're not even ashamed that you like it just as much anymore.

He was so surprised when you asked him to slap you but he didn't hold back either. He kissed, or rather licked the pain away before ramming his cock back inside your cunt with so much force your back arched off the bed and scratch his back up like he's been mauled. Good, he loves a mutual give and take.

"Oh my gods kitten, begging to be hit. I knew you were a kinky whore from the moment I saw you. Aren't you glad I helped you find this side of yourself? If you're so grateful you'll come on my cock right now. Do it! Come on, come on, let me feel that cunt sucking my cock."

#arcane #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader #ekko x reader #marcus x reader #finn x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane smut #league of legends #league of legends x reader #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanons #league of legends smut

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spidrrweb · 1 year

Text

4:30 am

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader | word count: 657

spiderverse masterlist ,,, i haven't wrote in a while sorry if it's messy <33 special tags: @miggyoharaswife @fadingdetectivestudent

Miguel o'hara fears love. He knows the cliché all spidermen have too well.

Losing someone; romantically, platonically, familial—whatever it was, it didn't matter, they'd never last long enough. For death only played a part in making the hero, and he had successfully became said hero without it, there was really no need for it. There's no risk if no chances are taken. Besides, balancing hero life with romance is no way to live, stress upon stress could kill a man.

But its everywhere, in places he couldn't think of—or rather places he's tried to ignore.

Love was in the gestures he'd received from you, such as the early morning coffee runs you'd go on. Miguel has a taste for strong, slightly bitter coffee, something you've learned from his many rants about others doing runs because, and i quote, "there's no point in calling it coffee when it's 90% milk and sugar."

He thanks you, grabs the cup knowing fully well he'll toss it the moment you leave, until you tell him it's different. "Small black coffee, dash of milk, no cream or sugar...but i do have a couple packets if you wanna add it yourself." Miguel declines and watches as you walk away to deliver the rest.

A chuckle leaves him once he sees the cups labeled 'Miggy' with a poorly drawn spider under it. You probably rushed it on your way back. "Unprofessional," he comments with lyla agreeing, though he doesn't mind it. Finding himself peering back to it with a smile when he goes to reach for it throughout the work day. He made sure to get you on more routes for him after that.

Love was pulling him away from his world when he's lost in his work. Hunched over, tired eyes staring at the ground, fingers tangled in his messy hair. Muttering a series of solutions under his breath before shutting them down while lyla listens. "Miguel please," he doesn't bother moving to see you, "You can't keep doing this to yourself, it's not healthy."

He knows you're right but this is his job, it's what he lives for, and you of all people should know this. He'll fight back, explaining the society needs him, this world needs him, hell, the multiverse needs him. "I cant just stop when we're getting close—when i'm getting this close to it."

You place a hand on his tense shoulder, "I can take over from here." "No, you cant its-"

"Miguel." You can feel him relax under your touch as he sighs; there's no point in bickering, you're just as stubborn as he is, it's almost admirable. His hands fall into his lap as he sits up, giving you a good look at those eye bags. "Shit, maybe you need more than just a day off." He laughs, shoulders bouncing slightly as he stands up. "You're lucky we're close, i could fire you for that you know."

You hum and take his seat, watching him take a few of his things before he's out the door. "Text me before you get to bed," he freezes at the door way, looking back at you with a raised brow. "Needa make sure you actually do it instead of getting hyped up on coffee just to come back." He lets out a sarcastic "ha" before he agrees, despite not really wanting to, then says good night to both you and lyla while he leaves.

And when he's home, he keeps his promise; the moment he puts his phone down it flashes with a notification from you. It's a picture of you with lyla in the background along with a goodnight text and a heart. Miguel finds himself staring at it for what seems like an eternity debating on what to say. The screen goes black, he shakes his head and sighs.

The phone flashes again when he places it down, now it's just the time that shows. It's 4:30 and though the thick walls will take time to get through, miguel can feel himself love.

©spidrrweb 2023. thanks for reading loves, reblogs are always appreciated <3 REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse #spiderman x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #oscar issac characters #oscar issac #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #🕸.writings

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starlazergazer · 1 year

Text

It’s Not Too Late

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Anakin gets a second chance to have true freedom and peace! Reader comes across Darth Vader for the first time after order 66 and attempts to pull Anakin back on the right path.

Warnings: None, some angst

Word count: 3k

A/N: Only in this one very instance can you fix him! I know the request asks for fluffy but I made this super angsty instead with some fighting banter between Anakin and the reader so I hope you like it because I loved writing it!

You’d heard the whispers, how could you not, though no one was ever brave enough to tell you them to your face. Not that you blamed them. That your best friend Anakin Skywalker could be the famous Darth Vader, Palpatine’s personal padawan, was so ludicrous, so ridiculous, you wouldn’t have let anyone utter the accusation in your presence leave unscathed.

And yet still a part of you knew.

The day it happened, the exact moment it happened, you could feel it. More than a disturbance in the force, more than a breaking of prophecy: a betrayal, a very personal very painful betrayal.

But still looking up at the man you had thought you once knew from your position chained on the floor you felt the last part of your hope die, unaware even that that hope had existed in the first place.

“I didn’t want to believe the rumors” you shook your head at him, eyes bouncing back and forth between those familiar but very different blue ones.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me” a smirk grew over his lips as he looked down at you. And somehow those words hurt worse than seeing him walk around with such authority through the empire’s army, more than seeing a new infamously red saber strapped to his hip.

“You’ve changed” you shook your head back up at him, feeling the lump grow in the base of your throat with each passing minute “You are not the Anakin I knew”

“I am exactly the Anakin you knew” he chuckled back at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat down calmly in the chair before you, causally crossing one leg over the other “Just finally lived up to my full potential”

And you didn’t know how to respond to that, to his complete acceptance, even beyond that his full belief that he was being aided by the dark side of the force, that it was somehow making him better, stronger. “What do you want?”

“Your base” he answered plainly, leaving forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees staring down at you “the rebel base, I want coordinates”

“What makes you think I have them?” You asked with a shrug, watching the smug smile slowly fade from his face.

“Don’t play dumb it was never a good look on you”

You felt your own anger spike within you as his did. He clearly didn’t know you that well if he thought you would give it up this easy. “What happened to being the chosen one?” You taunted him, turning to pressing his buttons on purpose, proving even if just to yourself that at least you knew him “you were supposed to-“

“-bring balance to the force yes I’ve heard it all before” and oh how you relished the anger in his tone, in the way the words hissed out through a clenched jaw, the way his eyes narrowed down at you ever so slightly, you’d always enjoyed messing with angry Anakin “answer the question”

“I’m just saying if you wanna talk about playing dumb, does turning to the dark side really seem like the best way to go about that?”

“Says the one chained to the floor” he pushed to his feet towering over you as he spoke “Now because of our past I’m giving you a chance here, a chance to answer to me instead of the emperor, do not mistake this kindness for weakness” and before you could respond he was turning around and walking back through the door, but you weren’t done. You couldn’t let him leave it like that, couldn’t let him bring up your past friendship like it was nothing more than a bargaining chip to be cashed in later.

“You know I thought we had lost you with order 66” You called out after him “I mourned your death” you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shame over the way your voice shook, overwhelming amounts of anger and betrayal trumping any and all other emotions within you.

He didn’t even look back as he spoke in a disturbingly monotone voice “Anakin Skywalker is dead. I am what remains”

You shook your head at his response though he couldn’t see it, hating him for the way he tried to hide from what he has done, shelter who he once was from the man he has become.

A bitter laugh escaped you “No, you don’t get to distance yourself from your own actions, you don’t get to protect that jedi you once were by calling yourself a different name.”

His body went rigid at your words, the surprise from your outburst evident in his reaction, it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that you were the first person to ever call him out on it.

“Anakin Skywalker was my friend” you pushed on, spitting the words at his feet “and you tarnish his memory with every action done in the name of the empire"

Anakin spun around on his heel at your words, a dangerous smirk on his face before he knelt down squatting before you, an all too familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye “You know I always liked the way you spoke your mind no matter what” A taunt in his tone, a look that dared you to step out of line “You never really knew when to shut up did you? I suggest you learn”

“You forget that I know you” you taunted back, leaning in even closer to him, showing him he wasn’t scaring you by forcing proximity “you can’t hide behind your charms from me Skywalker”

Still the smug smirk didn’t drop from his face, his eyes taking a second to bounce between yours before locking on a piece of hair that fell in front of your face. Slowly his hand reached out, effortlessly tucking it back behind your ear like he had done a thousand times before. And suddenly you were back beneath the stars with him, talking about the future, upcoming missions, battle strategies, just about anything you could think of to keep him out there with you.

His hand struck with practiced efficiency, reaching out to grab your chin before you could even comprehend its movement, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held your gaze on his “You will tell me where the rebel base is or I will take you to see emperor Palpatine, and trust me neither of us wants that to happen”

And even though the mere gesture of pulling your hair behind your ear had sent your heart racing and your mind reeling you forced your eyes to lock onto his, pushing down any feelings of familiarity, telling yourself exactly what he had just told you moments ago Anakin Skywalker is dead, he is what remains

“What’s the magic word?”

He cracked a smile at that, still holding you in place for a few seconds longer, giving you one last opportunity to answer before finally dropping your face, muttering a soft “so be it” before standing back up and heading for the door.

It had been easy to escape your bindings, too easy honestly, to the point that a small part of you wondered if you had been meant to escape them in the first place, if this was what your past with Anakin was worth to him, a chance and a poorly hidden saber.

You broke for the nearest town as soon as you could, keeping low and your thin scarf pulled over your face knowing it was far too easy to stick out in the empty desert.

You didn’t make it that far.

“You really thought it would be that easy?” His voice taunted you from behind, your body sagging slightly as you heard it, you hadn’t even noticed his approach.

“Yeah honestly” you returned, spinning around to face him “planning was never your forte”

He chuckled softly at that, shaking his head, casting his eyes down to his feet as he rested a single hand on his saber on his hip, looking far too much like the Anakin you had once known long ago. “Tell me where the base is Y/N”

And even though it remained unsaid you could feel the threat in his voice, in the way he glared at you, in the way his hand on his saber twitched.

“Are you not going to ask me about him?” You knew now wasn’t the time for the question, knew it was dumb to press that particular button now, but you couldn’t stand letting Anakin cast him off like this, cast you off like this.

He faltered at your question, his shoulders dropping slightly, his hand slipping from his saber. “You’ve been in contact with him?”

“Of course I have” you sighed, “And Ahsoka, Rex” you let your sentence trail off, hang in the air, let him come to you and ask the question if he wanted to know.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Anakin waited, as you waited, only breaking when his voice spoke up, a shake in it you weren’t expecting “are they-“

And maybe it was the way his voice shook, the way his posture slumped, the way those all too familiar blue eyes were silently begging you, but you took pity on him, chancing a small step forward as you finished his sentence “they’re okay. Ahsoka even removed Rex’s chip, they’re all okay”

Another silence hung in the air, an almost imperceptible nod in Anakin’s head as he stared down at his feet, only looking up to chance a look at you when he finally spoke again, in a small defeated voice “just tell me where the base is Y/N, that’s all I need, then I can turn around and pretend I never saw you here”

You sighed at that, shaking your head softly “You know I can’t do that Ani”

He chuckled bitterly at that, going for his saber, igniting it, his face illuminating in red as he did so.

And instinctively your hand went to your own saber, ready to draw it and defend yourself, ready to be caught up in a sparing match with Anakin just as you had so many times before, but no, you had to remind yourself, it wouldn’t be just sparing this time around, not anymore.

You unclipped it from your belt, taking a moment to feel its weight in your hand, before tossing it to the side, watching the sand around it kick up as it landed a few feet away from you. “I won’t fight you”

Anakin shook his head, his eyes snapping to your saber on the ground next to you, a bitter laugh that didn’t full materialize on his lips “I’m not falling for that”

“Its not a trick” you shrugged, opening your hands before you, “I won’t fight you”

“Pick up your saber Y/N” he yelled at you, still holding his own before him, still poised to strike but holding back, waiting “I will not tell you again”

You watched him with a small shake of your head “Ani I can’t fight you”

And for a second you just watched his chest rise and fall quickly as a war raged in his mind, as he debated his next steps, before a frustrated yell ripped through the air and he was charging at you, and you couldn’t help yourself, you closed your eyes, a breath catching in your chest as you waited for the inevitable, and kept on waiting.

A tentative eye opened to see a bright flash of red, hovering just above your shoulder, just waiting there. Your gaze followed it up to Anakin only to see he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his saber. And you could tell from the look in his eyes, from the way his grip kept changing, from the rapid fall and rise of his chest, that he was trying to talk himself into it.

Then a sigh and the blade was retracted, Anakin refusing to meet your gaze as he stepped back “get out of here Y/N”

And immediately you took a step back, your body begging you to run, to put this place and Anakin as far behind you as possible. But still you couldn’t.

“Come with me”

His gaze snapped up to yours in surprise, his eyebrows crunched together in confusion “I can’t” it came out as more a question.

“You can” you tried to encourage him, taking a tentative step towards him “You can come with me now and we can figure the rest of it out”

“I work for the empire” he spoke softly, “the empire isn’t what you think it is, they’re doing good, I’m doing good”

You sighed with a shake of your head, still inching forward, still holding out hope “You, you became the very thing you sought to destroy. Turning your back on everything you once stood for”

“Did I?” he challenged you calmly, repeating thoughts you knew he’d already gone through a thousand times before “or am I still upholding my same beliefs. I vowed to serve the republic and I still do, no matter what name it goes by now”

“You vowed to serve the people of the republic” you corrected “and now under the empires rule those people suffer”

“under the empire’s rule they are safe” he countered “From the time we were children we were told we were meant to be peacekeepers and that is exactly what I am doing now”

“You call this peace?” You couldn’t help but chuckle “How many die each day because of the empire’s tyranny”

“Because of the resistances rebellion” he countered but there was no malice in it, not the same angry argument as before but rather a debate.

“Look at them Anakin” you gestured to the town just before you, at the people begging for scraps outside of the bar, at the buildings crumbling from lack of maintenance “this is the effect the empire has on people”

Anakin shook his head at the sight before him, his eyes casting back down to the sand too quickly.

“Look at them” you repeated, putting more force into your words, practically begging him “Look at what the empire has done to this town, what you have done.”

“The empire stopped the war” Anakin’s gaze suddenly snapped back up to yours, a new defensiveness in his tone you weren’t used to hearing from him “these people are at peace, they do not fear for their lives anymore and that is what the empire has done”

“These people are starving” you objected, trying to keep your voice light but firm “they no longer fear death at the hands of intergalactic war but rather storm troopers on a power trip, bounty hunters, vagrants. They are far from safe”

“And what would you have me do now?” He demanded, exasperation in his tone “I stopped a war, I gave everything to stop a war”

“And now?” you questioned him “you did it, you stopped the war, why are you with them now?”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, his mind churning as his eyes bounced back and forth between yours, not saying a word as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

It all seemed to click for you then, where his hesitation was coming from, his stubbornness, his need to believe he was right, had been right all along “It’s not too late for you you know”

Anakin froze on the spot, eyes jumping up to meet yours, desperately willing for you to continue.

“You made a few mistakes, took some missteps but you can still do good”

“I’ve made a lot more than a few mistakes” his tone was soft and dejected.

“That’s okay” you tried to assure him with a shake of your head “You can still do good”

He shook his head in response, eyes finally lifting from you to scan the town around you “that’s not who I’m meant to be, that is not my destiny”

“Screw destiny” you countered quickly “it wasn’t long ago your destiny was to bring balance to the force and now the jedi order no longer exists. There is no more destiny there is just the choices you make here and now”

“I can’t” he objected weakly with a shake of his head “I can’t just leave”

“you can” you countered but saw as he refused to listen to you, taking steps back, so you forward, without a second thought wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering the words into his ear “Ani you can”

And you felt him go rigid under your touch, refuse to give in, but not quite pushing you off.

“Let go what you have done in the past” you tried to urge him “focus on what you can do now. And right now you can help them. You can help me”

And slowly you felt his arms come up, first placed awkwardly on your back, giving you a chance to take it all back, before slowly wrapping completely around you, pulling you deeper into him, a shaky breath escaping him as he did so, as he buried his face in your hair “I don’t know how it all went so wrong”

“I know Ani I know” you assured him softly, rubbing a hand up and down his back “but now we can work to make it better”

“We?” You heard the hope in his voice and couldn’t help but chuckle, chuckle and fight to keep the tears at bay.

Pulling back from him softly, noting the way his arms seemed reluctant to let you go completely, just enough that you could look into his eyes. “You and me, we’ll make it right”

#anakin x reader #Anakin Skywalker #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fic #anakin imagine #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader

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softpascalito · 9 months

Text

Pedro Pascal x Reader - I'll look after you

Summary: Pedro is sick (but of course he doesn't admit it). You look after him. Hurt/Comfort (but the twist is that you're the one doing the comforting).

Relationships: Pedro Pascal / Reader

WC: ~2000

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Pedro Pascal, No use of Y/N, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Pedro, Established Relationship, Mostly Gender-Neutral, Fluff and Angst, pedro pascal needs a hug, this is so soft and emotional and gentle-, author uses fanfic as therapy

AO3 LINK

Notes: hello loves! just a quick heads up: this is no medical advice because someone decided to got to film school rather than medical school. anyways: enjoy <3

songs recommended to go with this fic: look after you - the fray moon song - phoebe bridgers - lea

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“You're not going.”

Pedro let out an exasperated sigh:” It's just a small interview. I'll be fine.” “If it's just a small interview, surely it's no big deal for them to reschedule.” You retorted instantly.

You were standing in the hallway of the small apartment the two of you shared. It was a familiar scene. Pedro quickly slipping into his worn-out trainers, already halfway towards the door, balancing his phone, keys and a coffee in his left hand, a kiss on the cheek the last thing you got before he hauled off to whatever photoshoot or interview he had scheduled that day.

Today however, something was different. He had slept in later than usual, hence the hurry he was in now.

“I can see you're not doing well.”-”I said Im fine.” You could hear his voice straining a little more. Pedro was very patient- especially with you. But he hated being late and you knew he likely was already on edge with whatever he was going through:” I'll see you tonight.”

He gave another nod in the rough direction of you and turned towards the door. Your voice became a tad more gentle as you spoke.

”Pedrito.”

For a second, you thought he was going to ignore you, brush it off and hurry to his car, leaving you behind. But then he stopped his movements, his hand remaining on the handle of the open door as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. You waited another beat before speaking again:

“Please let me give them a call and ask them to reschedule. I'll take the blame if you want.”

The door closed as he took a step back and leaned against it. You barely caught his voice as he spoke:” Alright.”

You closed the distance between you and your gaze automatically wandered over him, taking in the beads of sweat on his forehead and the glazed-over look in his eyes that had made you skeptical in the first place. What you had failed to notice was the small tremor in his hands. “Give me those,” you said softly, and you were glad to see that he allowed you to take the keys and coffee out of his hands and place them on the small hallway table next to you.

“You wanna go lie down? I'll give them a call and then I'll make you some tea, alright?”

He noticed how gentle your tone was, how careful you seemed- all because he was running a small fever. Still, he couldn't help the tiny part of him that felt relieved at the idea of not having to go to the interview, not having to answer questions he had heard several times before, not having to sit under the scorching lights.

“As you command,” he teased. You knew he was doing this to take some of your worry away, to make you feel better. Pedro did this a lot. Whenever he felt like he had dug too deep or like he was putting too much weight on you, he'd simply play it off. After months together, you could see right through it. For now, however, you decided to let it slide, giving him a small smile, meant to lift his spirits.

The call didn't take long. There was a notion of annoyance on the other side of the line and you were reminded to cancel as early as possible in cases like these. You didn't give any explanation, simply reassured them that you'd find a new date and hung up.

You were just standing on your tiptoes to check the scarce collection of tea in the cabinet, when you heard the small commotion from the hallway. For a second, you assigned it to something falling over in the breeze coming from the sea or a sound drifting in from the outside. And then you remembered the exhaustion in Pedros face.

You were in the hallway in an instant, finding him leaning onto the small end table. The cup of coffee had fallen to the floor, a rug below catching most of its contents. For a split second, you got annoyed, knowing you'd have to throw it into the laundry. You opened your mouth to complain- and closed it again. The slight anger in you turned into genuine concern as you saw Pedros white knuckles holding on to the table, his face pale.

“Babe?” You asked softly as you stepped forward, ignoring the way the coffee was also soaking into your socks:” You okay?”

“Jus' a little dizzy,” He mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to steady himself:” Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You said firmly as you half crouched between him and the table and then raised yourself to full height again, allowing him to use you as a crutch:” Let's get you to the couch, big guy.”

It took quite some combined effort, and more than once you worried about him actually passing out- but eventually, he fell down onto the couch with a soft sigh. He leaned back, covering his face with his hands:” Fuck, I'm sorry.” He mumbled, again. Apologizing. Again. Always apologizing.

“Do you want me to call a doctor or something?” You asked, still unsure about how bad his state actually was.

“No, no, just need a minute.” You watched with concern as he took a few deep breaths, clearly trying to convince his body to stay conscious. The thing about unconsciousness though is that it doesn't have shit to do with willpower. If you fall, you fall. No matter how hard you're trying to tell your brain to keep pumping the blood towards where it's needed.

The water heater beeping dragged you back to reality.

“I'll get you that tea either way.” You mumbled and headed towards the kitchen again, muttering a ' you stay ' with another glance in his direction.

He did as told.

You quickly threw the tea bag into the mug, poured the hot water on it, grabbed a small chocolate bar for good measure and returned to the living room.

“Here you go.” You mumbled as you sat the steaming mug down and offered the chocolate to Pedro:” Will this help?” He gave you a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They still looked glazed over and you hummed as you took in his face, gently bringing your hand up to feel his forehead.

“Pedge, you're burning up.” He looked up at you with his round, brown puppy eyes and he just looked so goddamn miserable that it truly broke your heart, instantly making you wish you could take all his pain away.

“Okay, let me get a thermometer-” Pedro frowned slightly:”Do we have one of those?”-”I bought one, remember? I said-”

”You said we'd need one eventually.” He offered.

Despite his pitiful state, you couldn't help but grin a bit:” That's right.” You hummed as you grabbed a small box from the hallway closet, filled with different medications and- ”Here it is.”

As you approached him, Pedro squirmed slightly:” You're not gonna try to put that up my butt, are you?” You rolled your eyes:” Your mouth is fine.”

With a small wink, you added:” I'm saving your pretty little bum for another time.”

He blushed slightly at that but you barely noticed, already busy taking the thermometer out of its packaging:” You want me to do it?”

Pedro gave a small nod but you could tell he was conflicted about it. For a moment, he seemed to consider his words:” Baby, maybe you should leave. I don't want you getting sick too and-”

”No.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off by pressing a small kiss to his lips:” There. Already infected. Now open up.”

He was stunned enough to not protest. You were as gentle as possible as you rested one hand on his cheek, the other leading the thermometer into his mouth:” No talking.” He grumbled a bit but did as told, his gaze lingering on you as you both waited for the beep that would signal that the temperature was ready.

At this point, he knew you well enough to realize that you wouldn't leave him- no matter how many times he asked. On the other hand, you knew him well enough to realize he would still ask, always afraid of being a burden.

Your brows furrowed a bit as you took the thermometer out and glanced at the small screen:” It isn't too bad but some paracetamol wouldn't hurt.” You deduced, already grabbing the pills from the box and quickly glancing over the leaflet.

The look Pedro was giving you didn't fully reach your brain until you realized how quiet he was. Immediately, you turned your attention towards him:” Are you okay? Are you feeling dizzy?”

To your surprise, he gave a small chuckle. He was glancing at you in wonder:” How do you know all this?” You raised a brow:'' Thermometers and Paracetamol aren't exactly rocket science.” He shook his head:” Still, you're- you're kind of good at that.”

You gave a small shrug as you poured him a glass of water:” I spent a few summers helping out at camp when I was younger. They didn't have a proper nurse so I filled in.”

Again, he stared up at you in amazement:” I didn't know that.” He said quietly.

“Well, we never- it never came up.” You replied, a little self-conscious:” I didn't think it was very interesting.”

“Everything about you is interesting. To me, I mean.” He blurted out. You stared at him for a moment and then sighed, shaking your head.

“Pedro, you have a fever.”-”So?”-”So, declarations of your deep love for me don't count because you're not in the right state of mind.” Both of you stayed quiet as you settled down on the couch.

“Are you sure you dont wanna leave?” You smiled at him gently as you drew a blanket over his legs:” Go to sleep, baby.”

Again, you fell into silence as you watched him close his eyes. You were beginning to think he'd already fallen asleep, when he suddenly spoke again.

“Querida?” He asked in a low voice. Your head perked up slightly:” Hm?”

“Remind me again tomorrow.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain already zoning out:” Remind you of what?”

“To tell you how much I love you.”

You were too choked up to answer. You simply stared at him, his broad form nestled into the couch, two pillows below his back because it always, always hurt, his hair messy and sticking up into all directions and his eyes closed, seemingly already drifting off to sleep. He looked so soft and vulnerable and you couldn't help the strong urge to protect him, to shield him from all evil in the world. Including the evil of a sick day.

It didn't take more than a few minutes until his breathing became deeper and eventually he began snoring softly.

You watched his chest rise and fall from your spot on the couch and you thought your heart might leap out of your own chest and join in his, because you simply loved him that much.

With a small sigh, you got up again. You turned off the doorbell, threw both your socks and the coffee-stained rug into the washer, drew a few curtains and hid the script Pedro had been working on below some magazines. As far as you were concerned, he was on bedrest for the remainder of the day.

When you were satisfied, you returned to your spot on the couch, shifting slightly so that you were lying next to him but still giving him enough space to turn in his sleep.

“I'll remind you every day.” You mumbled, more to yourself than him.

I'll remind you every day as long as your answer stays the same, I'll have you as long as you'll have me .

You thought distantly as you too closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your hand finding his in a gesture that conveyed more than either of you could say.

But you knew. Both of you knew .

You knew now and you'd know the day after. And the day after that. And you had a feeling he did too.

_______________________________________

ty for reading!! i am afraid i am in fact a hopeless romantic. anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed it, please leave a comment if you did <3

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrito #hurt/comfort #sickfic #softpascalito #fanfic #pedrito pascal #angst #rpf

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stinkysam · 6 months

Text

Monkey D. Luffy - Cook.

Warning : nsfw, top!reader

Genre : smut

Synopsis : "Luffy x Dom Male Reader smut. Sanji don’t like the reader and Luffy get on Sanji case taking up for reader even tho reader can beat Sanji up then luffy and reader have smutty time!" - @kai-wifey

Reader : male (you/yours)

-cis women dni-

Luffy found you and Sanji's constant arguing funny until he heard how serious that was.

You used to work at the Baratie too, and like Sanji you liked to cook special dishes. Making them look better than they're supposed. Making fine looking plates. You liked Sanji because you understood each other.

Until the day Zeff got fed up of your special cooking. While he couldn't fire Sanji due to his ties with him, he could put him as a waiter for some time. But with you it was different. He could fire you, and he did.

Since that day, you held a grudge against Sanji, who should've been fired with you.

You knew it wasn't his fault, but you couldn't help it, it annoyed you, he should've stood up for you.

Luffy tried to get in between you two, to calm you down, not wanting you to actually hurt each other as you were about to.

"[Name], Sanji, calm down." He shrugged, a hand on yours and Sanji's chest. "You can start over."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as Sanji took a step back, looking away, both of you visibly annoyed.

"Then ask him why he didn't stand up for me ?"

Sanji said nothing, avoiding eye contact.

"I said enough." Said Luffy, a bit louder this time. "You should've stood up for your friend." He said to Sanji. "And you should drop it." He said to you. "You're not at Baratie anymore. No one will get fired for their cooking or plate dressing." He was looking at the both of you.

You huffed, looking away before walking out of the room. Luffy quickly followed you.

"[Name] ?"

"What."

"Do you really not like Sanji ?"

"All I know is that he should've been fired with me."

"Yeah but do you hate him ?"

"A bit. Why did you chose him ?"

"Because he fed us."

You sighed. Right.

"Wanna fuck ?" You suddenly ask and he looks at you, confused. "I've got a lot of pent up energy now and I don't know what to do with it, so let's fuck."

"Okay." He grinned.

You pushed Luffy in the bedroom as he giggled before climbing on the hammock, waiting for you expectantly.

But you didn't climb in it, instead you placed yourself between his legs and kissed him, your hands traveling his body as a chill ran down his spine.

You moved one hand down his pants, caressing his soft cock. You continued stroking him until he grew hard, whining for you to remove his pants, feeling too tight around him.

You tugged on them, helping him remove them and pushed him slightly on his back, holding himself in balance on the hammock. You still jerked him as your thumb prodded at his asshole, teasing him.

"Come on… [Name]."

Luffy tried to hump your finger in hope you'd push it in, and you did, slowly inserting your thumb inside him. He grimaced before smiling, quickly adjusting to your finger.

"Ah… fuck…"

You pushed it in and out, watching his hole swallow your thumb entirely as you spat on it so it would be easier to move. You stopped jerking him to caress his thighs, giving him a good slap, making him yelp before rubbing them, soothing the area.

You slapped them again and he hissed, head hanging back.

"[Naaame]." He whined.

His dick was already drooling, beads of precum rolling down his cock. You stroked him again, spreading it on his hard member as he moaned your name quietly.

Yours was throbbing in your pants, wanting only one thing, to stuff him full. So you removed them, freeing your hard cock and you took your thumb out of him before pushing your dick in.

You watched as his ass slowly engulfed you, taking you in inch by inch. Luffy was watching too with a grimace, not liking how slow you were going.

It made you smile before slapping the rest of your dick inside him, making him gasp and moan loudly.

Once fully inside you wasted no time, fucking him with the help of the hammock, using it like a swing. Watching him bounce on your cock as moans and whines left his lips.

"Right there ! Right there ! Right there ! Oh !" He closed his eyes as you hit his prostate repeatedly, wrapping his legs around you to keep you close.

But you stopped him, pushing his legs open as you continued your pounding inside his snug ass. It felt perfect.

You grabbed his face, pulling him closer as you continued your fucking.

"I don't need you… to interfere between me and Sanji." You say, hoping he's hearing you through his moans.

"It's my duty as a- as a captain- ah ! To make sure- everyone gets along ! Ngh-" He said and you chuckled. Fuck, he was kinda right.

"Can't argue with that."

"Eheh. Ah." He managed to smile and laugh through your thrusts, holding his hat against his head, proud of himself.

You quickened your pace, feeling your climax nearing. Luffy was close too, precum pooling on his stomach. You grabbed his dick, jerking him again.

You both came soon after, panting and sighing as you shot your seed inside him and Luffy on his chest and your hand.

You rested like this for a moment, catching your breath and you pulled out, drawing one last whine out of him.

He grinned again, straightening up, fingers playing a bit with the cum on his stomach before bringing it to his lips to taste himself.

#male reader #m!reader #one piece #one piece x male reader #one piece live action #one piece imagine #monkey d luffy x male reader #monkey d luffy imagine #monkey d luffy #opla luffy #opla #opla x male reader #opla imagine #luffy x reader

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tomriddlehyperfixataion · 2 months

Text

The summer of 1942 - Tom Riddle x Reader - P10

He was being tortured.

She was laughing.

He was being tortured and she was laughing.

“Having fun sugar cube?” (y/n) giggled from a few feet away as Tom was bombarded by two dogs on his face, another one behind him with their nose in his hair, two more at his feet, and another between his legs, all begging for attention.

“A blast,“ Tom hissed sarcastically-only half regretting going into the big yard. Justin and Maggie were laughing at him too-sitting down on some of the play blocks with their own sets of dogs around them. “gah!” Tom froze as the dog to his left-Rusty-licked up the side of his face, and he felt the side of his hair stuck up from both sweat and slobber. “oh-my-god.”

(y/n) burst into laughter and Justin fell off his seat, Maggie slapping her hand over her mouth as Moose jumped up at Tom and slobbered all over Tom’s chin. “eugh-“ Tom grunted, gently pushing Moose off him and stepping away while he could-huffing as Monty continued to walk between his legs-refusing to leave. “Monty-go away.”

“He’s deaf Tom, remember?” (y/n) giggled, leaning over as Moose trotted over to her. “hi Moose caboose the goose~”

Moose wiggled happily at his ‘full’ name and Tom snorted, looking down at Monty who just barked at him. “uh-huh, can I move?” Monty just stared and Tom sighed, moving back as Ariel leaped at him again. “Stoooop,”

“Tom, go sit down-I wanna see what happens,” Justin said, pointing to a set of blocks a few feet away from Tom. Tom glared, knowing exactly what Justin wanted to happen-his hair still sticking up. “Pretty please? With sugar on top?” Justin asked, giving Tom his best puppy dog eyes and Tom just scrunched his nose.

“The physical appearance of the please nor does the added sugar make a difference,” (y/n) snorted and Tom rose his brow at her, she just grinned and he know she was mentally making fun of the ‘serious’ way he talked.

“Nerd.” she said and Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes yes, you’ve said this before, I’m not sitting down and getting trampled,” Tom grumbled, crossing his arms. (y/n) pressed her lips together as she looked behind Tom and when he went to look he felt a set of paws on his back and he yelped as he was sent forward, barely catching himself before he was surrounded by dogs.

There was laughing but also three sets of hands pushing dogs away and (y/n) helped him up, giggling as she held Tom’s arm while he used his shirt to wipe his face-smearing the once clean blue t-shirt with slobber and fur.

“I'm going to take a shower and go hang out with something civilized. Good day,” Tom muttered and (y/n) snorted and giggled. “Yeah, have fun with Viper Tom,” Tom scrunched his nose again but made his way out of the yard-but he did stop to give Blazer a scratch. He liked Blazer.

“Nicely done sugar cube! You’re getting the hang of it!” Tom huffed from his place on Soup, the horse trotting around the barn field happily while Tom got used to riding him. He didn’t see why he needed to learn but (y/n) was quite pushy on Tom knowing how to ride.

Just in case, she had said and Tom couldn’t argue with that, besides it…was kinda fun. “Okay, when he starts to canter-“ Tom scrunched his face in confusion at the word and (y/n) laughed a bit. “-run, plant the balls of your feet into the stirrups and stand a bit, it should be much smoother than a trot but you have to keep your balance.”

Tom nodded, twisting his hand around the reins and clicking his tongue a few times like (y/n) had told him to, kicking Soup’s side lightly until Soup sped up into a canter and Tom got up onto his feet, laughing slightly as Soup ran in circles around the field; (y/n) laughing with him.

“There you go! You’re a natural sugar cube!”

Tom held back a grin, feeling the wind in his air and the rock of soup below him-who was running so smoothly it didn’t feel like he was even running. “Does he go faster?” Tom asked as he looped around to (y/n) and slowed Soup down till he stopped and (y/n) nodded, patting Soup’s neck from her spot on the fence.

“Yeah, real fast, he used to race actually, retired about ten years ago.” (y/n) said with a proud look in her eyes, and Tom swore Soup puffed up with pride, his head rising as if he was posing.

(y/n) laughed at Soup and patted his neck again, a glint in her eye as she looked up at Tom. “Wanna see him run?” Tom paused, and then nodded, climbing off Soup as (y/n) gestured for him to move and opened the field gate so Soup had more room in the open field.

Soup almost seemed to be strutting, his head rearing back as if he was in a starting gate. “oh he’s ready,” (y/n) snorted, getting settled in the saddle and rolling her shoulders. “maybe one-day sugar cube, you’ll be able to ride him when he’s like this,” Tom snorted and leaned his elbows on the fence, propping one foot on the bottom beam.

“uhuh-just run him already,” Tom muttered and (y/n) grinned, kicking her heels into Soup’s side and snapping the reigns-and Soup whinnied and arched back a bit before he took off and Tom’s jaw dropped. Soup was fast, very fast-kicking up dust and dirt during his take off and running so smoothly it didn’t look like his body moved at all, only his head.

(y/n) was laughing and hollering from atop Soup, leaned forward as Soup raced across the field, the other horses in the pasture running alongside him as he passed them. Big Blue watched from within the pasture, bobbing his head as if he was a proud father figure.

“How many races did he win?” Tom asked as (y/n) slowed Soup to a stop, walking him back into the barn field. “in his three years of racing? He won about thirteen of his 20 races per year, thirteen is his average but one year he won nearly every race-and if he didn’t, he was in the top five.” (y/n) said with a proud pat to Soup’s neck as she climbed down, giving the huffing horse a few treats from her pocket. “he’s a good one, and still has a lot left in him-he’s only 14 if you can believe that.”

Tom scoffed, because Soup did not look 14, but 14 for a horse wasn’t all that old, and Soup was in great condition. “why did he retire so early?” Tom asked, running his hand up Soup’s snout as Soup pushed at his hand with his nose.

“Because his owners didn’t want to push him and cause a life-threatening injury, so at four years old they retired him and he ended up here a bit after that. But he’s a happy horse and can still run like the devil.” (y/n) explained, patting Soup’s butt as she walked around him to join Tom by the fence while Soup enjoyed a good scratch on his neck from Tom.

“he had good owners then?” Tom asked and (y/n) nodded, crossing her arms as Tom held out his palm while Soup ‘ate’ his hand. “yeah, we’ve rescued other race horses before that were raced till they dropped and their hearts nearly gave out-and then were just abandoned or about to be killed if someone didn’t step in.” Tom’s chest ached a bit at (y/n)’s description, happy that didn’t happen to Soup.

“that’s horrible,” Tom muttered and (y/n) nodded. “yeah, but it’s why we do what we do, to save any animal no matter what has happened to them, every living thing deserves a chance-no matter what someone else thinks, there are plenty of people who think what my parents and I do is stupid and a waste of time.” (y/n) muttered, looking down at her boots and Tom attempted to catch her gaze. “But seeing a dog happy and healthy again? Or a horse running free on the pasture? Or even a snake comfortable and well-fed? It’s all worth it and I’m happy doing it all,”

(y/n) smiled at Tom and he smiled back, “Amen to that,” he mumbled, and (y/n) laughed, shaking her head fondly. And to think, nearly two months ago, Tom wouldn’t have even blinked at an injured animal, he would’ve just stepped aside.

He wondered how different this summer would’ve been if he hadn’t spent it at the Prothero house/shelter.

A few days later, Tom was heading back from town(yes, getting more beignets, but Mrs. Prothero had needed something from the market and Tom had been available) when he heard an odd squealing noise to the right of the road. Tom tilted his head, stepping towards the side of the road towards the surrounding forest, setting down the bag he had been holding as that noise continued.

The noise continued a good 20 feet into the forest and he eventually stumbled upon a hollow tree that had something laying inside the trunk, Tom frowned as he got closer-seeing a very rounded dog that was just utterly filthy and looked ready to give up.

“Hey,” Tom said softly, shushing the dog as it stopped making those terrible noises and whipped its head up to look at Tom, growling upon seeing him. “Hey hey, I’m not going to hurt you-it’s okay, it’s okay,” Tom whispered, moving a bit closer and taking the lead he started carrying around since Tilly’s rescue out of his pocket-getting a closer look at the dog.

It looked like Navi, but it had an enlarged belly and nipples. “Pregnant, a girl then,” Tom muttered to himself, his nerves going insane-he wanted to go get (y/n) to help with this but he also didn’t want the dog to run, but she had also been letting out some heartbreaking cries.

Tom had to get her to the shelter.

He tried to get closer but the dog just growled again-her eyes glassy and terrified and Tom backed up until she stopped being so tense. Tom took a tense breath and licked his lips, wiping his shaking hands on his pants and standing. “I’ll be right back, please don’t move,” Tom said and the dog just seemed to try to burrow further into the hollow trunk.

Tom practically ran back to the bag he left on the road and grabbed it, carrying it into the forest and to the hollow tree, setting it on the floor and grabbing the bag of still-warm beignets, smiling as he saw the pregnant dog perk up at the sound of a bag and the smell of treats.

“C’mere, it's okay,” Tom whispered, taking one out and ripping some of the beignet off and blowing on it before tossing it into the hollow trunk, after a few moments of hesitation the dog ate it.

Tom wished he had something more than a bag of beignets, but he had no other food-and no choice. He kept trying to lure the dog out of the hollow trunk, but she wouldn’t move-growling when he got close.

“fuck,” Tom muttered, licking his lips nervously, he backed away for a bit and looked in the bag-wondering what he could use to gain the dogs trust. He heard a rustle and looked up-eyes widening as he saw the dog moving to run away. “no-nonono!”

Tom, in a feat that must’ve been pushed by accidental magic, leaped forward as the dog bolted away and looped his lead around her neck, scrapping his arm and knee as he whiplashed her to a stop. “Sorry, sorry-I’m sorry, shit-stop doing that-“ Tom hissed in a panic as the dog whipped around and cried out-trying to get away. “it’s okay, it’s okay-calm down-I’m not going to hurt you-hey hey,”

Tom breathed heavily as the dog came to a stop-staring at Tom, terrified. Tom could see himself in her eyes and he took another deep breath, licking his lips again as he got out another beignet, holding it out to the dog. She growled a bit but Tom did not relent, carefully moving forward until the dog hesitantly took the treat and Tom backed up when she did.

It was a whole hour before the dog let Tom touch her, and that’s when she realized Tom wasn’t going to hurt her and she slowly melted into his hand-still so scared but relaxing for the first time in a while. “There you go, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Tom whispered, moving from a kneel to crossing his legs under him, smiling as he gently pulled the dog towards him.

It took another hour for Tom to feel comfortable enough to stand and attempt to pull the dog along with him back down the road to the shelter, and Tom couldn’t help the relief he felt when she followed him, though she did gravitate away and towards him as they walked.

Tom headed directly into the shelter when he arrived-leaving the bag from town aside as he did a more thorough check on the dog. She was clearly pregnant, thankfully uninjured, dirty as all hell, and exhausted.

She was practically falling asleep standing up, leaning into Tom’s hand as he continued to pet her cheek. “Tom? You’ve been gone for nearly four hours where have you-oh my god,” (y/n) said as she walked into the shelter, her furrowed brows rising when she saw the dog. “Oh my god, where did you find her? What happened?”

“In the forest on the way back, heard her crying-sounded like a dying animal-sat there for two hours just trying to get her to trust me.” Tom muttered, speaking quickly as (y/n) made her way over to him, the dog a bit unnerved but letting (y/n) touch her.

“Oh you poor mama, can I see your teeth?” (y/n) whispered, reaching out slowly and scratching the dog's nose before pulling up her lip and looking at her teeth. “oh she’s young, maybe only two.”

Tom hummed, still holding the leash-smiling as the dog turned to Tom and buried her face in his stomach-just wanting to be comforted while being wrought with anxiety. “Hi, you’re safe now,” Tom whispered, rubbing her head slowly.

Eventually, after removing some ticks and giving her some water, Tom and (y/n) got the dog-which Tom named Aris- into the bath and gave her a well-deserved papering, Aris’ face practically smooshed into Tom’s side and arm as he removed so many weeks’ worth of dirt and grime from her fur-which was a beautiful brown brindle.

(y/n) and Tom gently picked Aris up and took her out of the tub, towel drying her and getting her set up temporarily in a spacious kennel, Tom sitting in the corner with Aris as (y/n) called the vet over to the shelter to get a better look at Aris.

“Do you think she’s ready to give birth?” Tom asked as he gently ran his hand up and down Aris’ side, who was slowly starting to fall asleep after getting some proper food in her belly and a nice blanket to cushion her.

“No, her body’s too hot still, a dogs temperature will drop when they go into labor,” (y/n) explained, cleaning Aris’ ears and checking her paws while they waited for the vet. “but she is in her last few weeks, maybe, who knows-maybe she’ll give birth this week. We’ll have to see what Doctor Lorrie says,” Tom hummed and nodded, pulling his legs up to give Aris a proper pillow as she huffed into his side, her body fully relaxing and letting herself go into a dead sleep after being hyper-vigilant for so many months(maybe years).

When Lorrie arrived, Aris was shaking in Tom’s arms as Lorrie examined her, nodding slowly as she put the stethoscope to the round belly of Aris. “Well, I can hear several heart beats, I don’t know how many there are, but all in all, she seems healthy enough-i'll test for any diseases and other illnesses, but she should be good to go.” Lorrie said and Tom sighed in relief, rubbing his palm against Aris’ ear.

Lorrie took some blood and reminded (y/n) and informed Tom of what to do if Aris’ went into labor and she was unable to be there in time or called. Tom listened intently as if he was in DADA or potions class, jotting everything down in his mental parchment.

“I don’t want to leave her in the shelter, you said she might give birth within the week right?” Tom asked Lorrie as she packed up her tools and the vet nodded, pinning her hair back behind her ears. “yes, she’s ready to drop-she might even do it tonight. Just in case I would house her in the house, in one of your rooms or downstairs where you can help if she needs.” (y/n) nodded and walked Dr. Lorrie out, later helping Tom get Aris’ set up in his room, the bathroom ready to go just in case she wanted to give birth In there-blankets and towels decorating the bathtub.

That night, Tom perked up at every shuffle and sound Aris made, but she would only readjust and go back to sleep, snoring and twitching as Tom watched like a hawk. But he would be awoken two days later to the sound of wining and excessive licking and Tom bolting up as if he was late to class, nearly tumbling off his bed as he saw Aris in the dim light, curled over her bottom half.

Tom leaped off his bed and opened his bedroom door-grabbing a book from the dresser and throwing it across the hall, not even bothering to check if (y/n)’s parents got up from the noise so he could get back to Aris.

(y/n) walked through the bathroom connection only moments later and the two sat by Aris’ side as she gave birth, her natural instincts kicking in as she pushed the first puppy out.

She licked the membrane sack around the puppy off and the puppy gave a gasping cry as it breathed for the first time and (y/n) gently pinked the puppy up, checking its gender before setting it down by Ari’s belly so she could clean it. “Girl, first puppy is a girl,”

Tom nodded, rubbing his thumb on the side of Aris’ head as she pushed into his palm. It was another few minutes before the next puppy arrived, but Aris’ repeated her previous actions, licked the puppy free of the membrane, and (y/n) checked it before setting it by Aris’ belly. “Boy,”

Sometime later-maybe an hour, the next puppy came out. “Girl,” over the next two hours, the last of the puppies were born; another girl and one last boy, the boy being the runt of the litter. It was around 5:04 am when it was all over and Aris’ curled up by Tom’s side as her puppies ate and followed her head, falling asleep happy and healthy.

“Good job Tom,” (y/n) whispered, the two teens exhausted but happy as Aris who comfortably fell asleep on Tom’s leg. He hummed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall and sighing. Mr. and Mrs. Prothero came upstairs about a half hour later, asking about the loud noise they heard around midnight, and (y/n) just pointed at the puppies and then the book still lying by her door.

They immediately understood and didn’t ask any further questions.

The puppies were tagged and named, the runt resting in the crook of Tom’s arm as Aris’ ate her breakfast, the other puppies crying and eating their breakfast. “There you go,” Tom muttered as he put the runt by one of Aris’ free nipples, letting him have his breakfast. “eat up little one,”

(y/n) grinned sleepily from her spot on Tom’s bed, her leg crossed under the other. “He’s so small,” Tom muttered as he joined her, leaning back on his hands. “He’s the runt, there's always one of the litter that’s smaller than the rest, let’s hope he’s strong though-sometimes they don’t pull through due to not getting enough nutrients during development.” (y/n) said quietly and Tom frowned, staring at the little runt eating away.

“I won’t let that happen,” Tom said and (y/n) grinned, patting his back. “I know you won’t, he and mama were lucky to be found by you Tom,” (y/n) said with no lack of pride and Tom flushed, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean it, sugar cube…I’m really glad you’ve spent the summer here, it’s been fun,” (y/n) ended softly and Tom cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the puppies.

“yeah…me too.” Tom whispered, lightly knocking his knee into (y/n)’s.

-end of part 10-

@slytherinboysappreciation

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #harry potter fanfiction #fluff fic

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scribblestatic · 5 days

Text

Izuku eventually talks to Inko about Venom as they get older, but by this point, Izuku and Venom are barely separate entities. Although they have different experiences from prior to their current symbiotic relationship, they are so intrinsic to each other's survival that they made up a name to refer to the both of them.

Inky. Or Inkkun.

So, if Inko calls Izuku's name in the morning for him to get up and he doesn't reply, she peeks into his room. Depending on if there was something on late at night he wanted to watch, he might still be asleep.

Inko sighs. "Inkkun, could you wake up, please?"

Black ichor slips from Izuku's skin and covers his body, opalesque eyes blinking open. With practice, the inky covering is only over his skin, so his clothes fill in further with the loss of available space. Izuku wears baggier clothes to accommodate their change nowadays.

So, it's like there's a big, inky, somehow fuzzy wolf in a "sleeping" T-shirt and All Might themed pajama pants.

"We were watching the All Might series marathon."

"I had a feeling it was something like that... Please help Izuku get ready for school, hon."

"Mmm don't wanna..."

Inkkun still crawls out of bed on all fours and slinks past her to the bathroom, though. A minute or so later though, Inkkun is sitting around the corner of the kitchen, still brushing his teeth, giving her their equivalent of puppy eyes.

"Inkkun..."

"No school, Mom..."

She sighs, realizing he swallowed the toothpaste again.

"Why don't you want to go to school?"

"No one likes us. Don't think we're important. Even though we have a 'quirk,' we get bullied."

Inko frowns, pausing as she flips the egg omelette she's making for breakfast.

"I talked with the principal about that already."

"Pah. Doesn't care about us. No one there cares."

Inkkun grumbles as he heads back to the bathroom briefly to rinse his mouth out...or drink the sink water, whichever he decides. She can't follow after him since she's still cooking, but her jaw clenches slightly.

Izuku never told her about the bullying before. It wasn't until after Izuku finally introduced her to Venom that she started learning more about what his school life was like. Izuku didn't lie much, but he would omit details. Venom, however, seemed nearly incapable of lying, which bled over into Inkkun.

As she plates their breakfast, Izuku's the one who enters, now dressed in his school clothes and trying button his gakuran. He looks drowsy, though upon seeing Inko, he becomes a bit sheepish.

"So, when were you going to tell me you're still getting bullied?"

A black, liquidy head forms through his school shirt, right beside his own.

"Never."

"Venom..."

"Izuku..."

He huffs, frustrated. "I just... I want to handle it on my own. We can't rely on you all the time."

"...You're right that you can't."

But she walks over, raising their chins to look up at her.

"But you're my little boy. And right now, I'm the one who trusts the school to both educate you and treat you right. If they don't, then that's a problem I'm supposed to help you face. Failing to do one means they're failing to do the other, too."

'Mom is right,' Venom says in their head, 'Listen to Mom. Or eat their brains. That would solve it.'

'No.'

'How about their ear? They have two of those. Missing one won't hurt too much.'

'No eating people, we promised.'

'Ugh.'

----

Now, time for some sillies.

Izuku likes to finish his homework at school or the library before coming home. Cause home is Inkkun time.

He walks in the front door, takes off his shoes, sets down his bag, and becomes creacher.

"Woof."

He strolls around the house on all fours very comfortably. He even found a way around washing his hands all the time. Venom will control their balance, and Izuku's human arms can reach out and touch things. He can also use his tentacles to pick things up.

Oh, right, yeah. He has tentacles. He usually forms them from his tail or back to grip and carry things.

So, sometimes, if Inko works a bit later than usual, she'll come home to Inkkun eating face first out of a bowl of french fries or containers of natto. More than once, she found him with a plastic bag on the floor to catch all the spillage from the fish he caught--he's been sneakily stealing from a salmon farm as of recent.

He just kinda stuffs them in his mouth, not minding the bones or gills or whatever else. It's all delicious, especially the fatty ones.

Venom usually suggests eating people just for the fun of it rather than out of legitimate hunger. Izuku casually shuts the thought down every time.

---

One day, Inkkun gets up, but he's not in goopy dog form.

Venom is under Izuku's skin, but Izuku's green eyes are instead opalescent.

It's at this point they've almost fully fused. The DNA of Izuku's human body has rearranged itself almost entirely, with him being unable to live without a connection to Venom. At the same time, the solid parts of Izuku's body makes sonic attacks that are usually a weakness for symbiotes into a mere annoyance instead.

The main thing is that the blood of people with quirks is incredibly disgusting. So, of course, Venom's brain-eating suggestions are almost always just banter. They wouldn't suggest eating brains seriously unless they were literally starving to death.

So, it's more that Inko smells delicious because she's constantly bringing them the food with the best chemicals, and because love smells good. Inko is completely off the menu.

Also Inkkun can almost completely dematerialize. As in, Izuku's body can dissolve and reconstruct almost completely without worry. So, while most humans are constrained by their shoulders of hips, like a cat, Inkkun can fit his entire body through anything big enough for his skull. He can even squeeze his skull down just a little for slightly smaller spaces.

Izuku's skull eventually becomes one of the last things differentiating Izuku from Venom. Not that Izuku's worried, nor is Venom.

They belong together, in one body, after all.

---

Inkkun likes to nap and sunbathe. You'll just see a big ol black, slick yet fuzzy blob laid out in a sunny spot. When he stretches his legs, his paw peets stretch out, as does his tail. If he's super comfy, he'll melt a lil bit.

When he's not hungry or full of energy, he's actually quite relaxed. Slinks around the apartment in full goop form, wuffing under his breath and sniffing at stuff to ensure it smells the same.

If Inkkun's really in a doggy mood, he'll sniff his mom 's shoulders and head when she comes home. Once, he sniffed her and smelled that she was starting to get sick, so he made her some soup and gave her some medicine. The great thing about him cooking is that there's no risk of injury for him at all. Except for maybe burning, but that heals quickly.

Sure enough, she had to call in to work the next day, but she wasn't feeling as bad as she could've because Inkkun caught it early. So now, he does her a sniff on principle.

(Thankfully, the only time Izuku gets sick is if he's too hungry. He hasn't had a single illness since he was four.)

He also enjoys a good head pat. Very pleasant sensation for him. He greatly enjoys physical affection. On lazy weekends, sometimes, it would just be him with his head on his mom's lap on the couch, with her watching TV and carding her fingers through his hair as he reads some manga, tail bapping against the couch.

---

Izuku's only doctor is Dr. Oniyoshi.

The doctor's very good at keeping things hush-hush, especially once Izuku and Venom fuse together more. It's something interesting for the man to study, but he wouldn't risk the wrong people coming to know about him.

Dr. Oniyoshi's the kind of guy who sometimes says things a little harshly, but he clarifies himself right after. Inkkun's never once seen him express anger, just having a calming demeanor as he quietly maintains every aspect of his care.

It helps that Venom constantly keeps Izuku healthy. They don't technically need to brush their teeth, but Venom does anyway when Inko asks and Izuku's consciousness is still asleep. So, really, Izuku doesn't have a lot of medical records, and the ones that do exist are purposefully fudged.

His details still say quirkless, and his blood denotes no differences from any other person, save for the lack of quirk factor that's becoming increasingly rare over time.

Once Inkkun started forming more frequently, however, Dr. Oniyoshi noted unidentifiable DNA in his blood. Not only that, but he couldn't keep a blood sample. The blood would eventually break out of the glass and return to Izuku by some point. So now, he tells Izuku when he's done doing blood tests and uncorks the vial, letting his blood return without breaking his supplies.

Dr. Oniyoshi quietly tells Inko that her son's more akin to a nonidentifiable humanoid than a human, but just as firmly confirms that Izuku is her son regardless.

Inko knows, but it's nice that her son's doctor agrees.

#venom deku au #au post 19 #bnha au #mha au #bnha #static writes #static drabbles #they're basically the same but distinct #two minds in one body #+ dog #woof

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 3 months

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I love when writers add flavour to their x reader stories by giving the reader different dynamics so much because it not only allows for us readers to explore different types of stories and facets of our personalities but also opens up for all different types of pairings;

The kind and soft hearted reader who is always open minded to the one character that needs that balance and compassion

The gruff and emotionally closed off reader who deserves to be comforted and feel safe instead of feeling constantly (emotionally or physically) on the defense

The elegant and poised reader who gets a character that compliments their grace and allows them to slip from their persona when needed while still not mocking or admonishing their poise

The nerdy and knowledgeable reader with a dumb character that still loves hearing them rant about their interests despite not understanding a thing because they deserve to be listened to

I also love me some dumpster-fire-wet-cat-found-in-the-back-of-an-alleyway reader and I think it's hilarious every time

What reader dynamics do you enjoy and which types of stories/pairings do you like to see them with? (Basically ship dynamics but specifically what fanfic you'd read about them)

And what type of reader have you not yet written (or read if that fits) for (for a certain character or in general) that you'd like to try?

Me, personally, I would love to see Mihawk with an absolute we-found-it-eating-our-garbage-and-we-think-it-has-rabies-but-fuck-it-its-our-mascot-now reader

Mihawk: I have high standards

Reader, offhandedly as they walk by: This morning I fought a rat for half a bagel... I lost. That was a new low.

Mihawk, internally: fuck, they're meeting all my standards!

Or with a himbo, honestly. I love me some himbo reader (I love thembo&bimbo but my preference is specifically for himbo, which transcends gender btw, all heart and muscle and no brain)

There really aren't many that I don't enjoy writing/reading. But in particular I'm really big on oposites-atract situations.

Like:

Zoro with a silly bubbly reader that makes him lighten up a little

Sanji with a romantically oblivious reader that his flirting just doesn't work on

Shanks with serious reader that struggles to keep the dumb himbo in line but still thinks he's just adorable

Buggy's overdramatic ass with an aloof reader that knows how to calm him down

Crocodile is an exception here because I wanna pair him with character/reader that's just as cunning and manipulative as he is and watch the whole thing catch fire, I'm thinking about it way too much and I'm bound to start writing him and Wren before long

And definitely Mihawk, as composed and high-maintenance as he is, with the human equivalent of an opossum. Just an absolute dumpster-fire of a reader. Acting all annoyed about it but secretly finding it endearing and feeling compelled to take care of them. Honestly the exact dynamic I'm aiming for with him and Karimi in Hearing Problems, with her total disregard for self-preservation.

I've never written a himbo reader since I primarily write female readers, but they're among my favorite breed of character in general. Janx and Lyon provide my himbo fix. Just writing dumb little drabbles of their interactions for my own entertainment.

"Maaaan." Janx spun the globe sitting on top of the desk in the captain's cabin. "I hate it when ovens explode."

"Again?" Lyon's brow furrowed as he looked up at his first mate, turning his own attention from a map also sitting on the desk. "Is that why you look like you've been on fire recently?"

"More or less, yes," he said, shrugging slightly as he continued his examination of the globe.

"And you caused it, I'm assuming?" He shrugged slightly again. "Wren's going to murder you in your sleep one of these days." He was met with yet another noncomittal shrug. Lyon shook his head and looked back down at the map. He frowned at it for a few moments before picking it up, crumbling it into a ball, and tossing it over his shoulder in annoyance, grumbling under his breath about coordinates before turning his attention back to his first mate. "You're paying for the new one out of your cut this time."

"But I spent everything in Jaya. We were out of whiskey, we needed more, so I took the liberty of purchasing it myself."

"The fact that you're the reason we were out notwithstanding—"

"And what are we supposed to do until I get the money?" Janx went on lamenting, ignoring the accusation. "Not eat? I can't not eat. The oven is in flames right now because I was being forced to not eat."

"But I feel like I need to be thinking straight," said Lyon, still blinking in a confused manner.

Janx opened the door and looked over. "Then you're too sober for your own damned good."

The crew didn't return until later that evening, and when they did, they found Janx collapsed in the middle of the deck, covered in raw egg, pieces of eggshell, feathers, and ink. He smelled of something like dirty mop water and looked as though he had been utterly defeated. A few stopped to snigger at him, but most just walked past and ignored him. Lyon stopped by him upon finding him and looked down at him, giving a snort of laughter.

"Learned your lesson, I take it?"

Janx managed to sit up and nodded. "I had to chase her all over the ship for five hours straight," he said weakly. "I'm so tired I could sleep for weeks. I've learned that the next time you tell me I'm babysitting your hellspawn, I should probably just jump ship and let the ocean take me."

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x-amount-verbs · 2 years

Text

A Helping Hand - Part 13

[start here] || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14

[silco x f!reader] [3k words] [no y/n] [during timeskip] [touch-starved reader] [henchwoman!reader] [sfw rated M] [tween jinx]

Judging by the way your stomach flipped upon being praised for your successful (if very slow) completion of the task before you leave Silco’s office: you have not yet grown desensitized.

You can only try to set aside the shivery feeling that’s making you press your thighs together as you pause outside his closed door. Not very helpful, to be lost in the too-pleasant foggy feeling he gives you. You have work to do. Apologies to make.

Despite being hyper aware (really— incredibly aware) of how close Silco is, and how much he hates when you do it, you nip at the tip of your tongue until it bleeds, the sting helping to sharpen your senses. He doesn’t need to know. It’s not like that eye can see through walls.

…Well fuck, you hope not.

You make a hasty exit, regardless.

Despite how early you arrived, your punishment task from Silco took quite some time, so by the time you get to your joke of an office, you’re only an hour earlier than usual. Since the papers very clearly don’t matter, your first priority is getting them gone. Once they’re packed back in their box, you are greeted with the very boring reality that you now have absolutely nothing to do.

So you wander.

The Last Drop generally opens around 3 or 4, before that only having the occasional employee about, so you find yourself poking your nose into all the business areas. No Jinx, though you do wish Orid a good afternoon, which earns you a cheery (if slightly confused) greeting in return.

The only places you haven’t gone are the back part of the building— half of which only got built last year, as part of the massive overhaul when Silco took over the bar. That’s the domestic quarter; the place where people (Silco and Jinx, mostly, though maybe others as well) sleep and live. The door just down the hall from your office leads to the back rooms.

You’re considering risking it, when you hear your name called from the opposite direction you’re expecting.

Jinx doesn’t come barreling at you. She’s smiling, but also looks… unsure.

Guilt stabs at your chest. “Hey, Jinx.” Fuck, you hate feeling mean. “I’m sorry for disappearing last night.”

“Hnn…” The affirming sound is hummed on a bitten tongue, like she can’t quite bring herself to speak.

“I got weird. Sad. Didn’t want to subject you to it, sorry.” It’s more truth than you mean to tell.

Jinx’s gaze is questioning as she looks up at you, but no words pass her lips. It’s always weird when the kid goes quiet.

“I can make it up to you, though,” you offer, hoping to draw her energy back out. Instead of mentioning that she’s your assignment, you take an alternative approach with a different truth; “The office work is off the table. Gotta fill my work day with something else. Want to keep me company?”

The smile breaks out across her face as she nods. “I’m supposed to have class,” she admits, “but I don’t wanna go.”

“Relatable,” you shrug. “Can I come with?” Better keep her still getting educated. Probably wouldn’t go over well to actually keep the girl from her studies.

Jinx’s lips purse. “Orrrr we could work on prototyping ammo?” she suggests, shooting you a sidelong glance.

It feels like a test, and you’re not quite sure what the right answer is to keep in both her and Silco’s favor. “Orrrr,” you imitate, “we can make some notes and sketches while we let your tutor think he’s teaching you?”

Lips twist in a pout, but it’s not sour. A second later she shrugs. “Yeah, alright.”

She grabs your hand to tow you along behind, and you can’t help the little squeeze in your chest at the affectionate contact.

—

It’s a careful balance to keep Jinx from completely ignoring her lessons. You got dragged along to the room used as a classroom, and were allowed to pull up a chair alongside hers (or, rather, she pulled it up and the tutor didn’t seem to have the guts to dispute it). Sitting so close beside someone is nice, especially when Jinx grabs your prosthesis to scribble on as the tutor goes on.

At first you thought she wasn’t paying attention at all, too busy drawing. But every time you posed a question, asking for clarification on something being covered in the lesson, or asking a question only very tangentially related (always directing them to Jinx, rather than the tutor), she spouted off an answer, or asked the same to the tutor. So she wasn’t completely zoned out.

And for your part, it was more engaging than you expected. You were taught mostly by your parents, with some participation in the local semi-organized ‘school’ system where you grew up— more of a drop-in when you can, if you’re not working or if your guardians don’t need you. Homework occasionally happened at those schools, but not often. That was more in line with the orphanage schools, which you also stopped in at once or twice. Your area growing up very much existed around the concept of ‘it takes a village to raise a child.’ A lot of mining communities do, with how many kids end up parentless. So the organized lesson plans of this tutor are an interesting difference.

Honestly, just a teacher that pays close attention to their students is different.

It’s marvelously low pressure, leaning on your good hand, letting Jinx cover over her first layer of scribbles with a different color as you both listen to her tutor go on about some classical poet. Never really considered the Undercity to be a hotbed for poetry, but to each their own. You ask if they’ve covered fiction, and the tutor visibly cringes just as Jinx loudly complains that he finished the last unit too quickly, and she was stuck reading a ‘stuffy topsider biogerphy’ instead of the stories they did earlier.

Apparently it’s either late enough in the afternoon (early enough in the evening?) that class can reasonably be ended, or the tutor has finally run out of patience, because he splutters his indignation, storms over to a bookshelf, and then drops the book unceremoniously on your half of the table as he leaves.

“Sheesh, what got his panties in a twist?”

“Jinx!” You still snort at the phrase, even if it feels a bit vulgar. You probably said the same or worse at her age, so you can’t really complain.

Jinx grins, and plucks up the worn paperback. “This doesn’t have a nactual title.” The way she says it is funny, like her tongue is tripping over itself, like it can’t keep up with her brain. “What’re fables?”

Your gaze flicks toward the door, but the man is gone. “Stories that supposedly teach moral lessons, I think. Or maybe they’re the stories that explain why things are the way they are? You know, like…” Your mind goes blank, so you open to the table of contents, scanning the titles for one that sounds familiar. “Oh duh— the crow and the pitcher, the hart and the hunter, all that stuff.”

Jinx’s face screws up, irritated. “That’s like the school stuff for babies.”

“Yep,” you agree. In your defense, she’s right. It’s the stuff you learned at six, not twelve. “Wanna find something else?” You straighten and head for the bookshelf the tutor took the book from.

After reading off a few titles, you and Jinx jointly settle on a book of short adventure stories. When you present it to her, big blue eyes look up at you imploringly. “Wanna read it to me?”

You can’t help the slight smirk, “Hmmm…” You pretend to be skeptical of the idea, but it’s a hard ruse to keep up.

Her indignant noise makes you laugh before you agree. It’s almost a blessing, that her chosen activity seems to be low-impact on the hand.

After dragging you around by said hand for a few minutes, trying to find a spot that fits her specifications and isn’t already busy with people, Jinx finally tugs you up a set of stairs in the back half before heading back toward the front again.

“Uh—” You have a bad feeling that- “Are you sure we should-”

“Don’t worry about it! He’s out talking to the suits and stuff. I can go ahead, and let you in.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better about this. “I don’t think-” But it’s too late. Jinx shoves her notebook at you (now stacked with the book of stories) and disappears back the way she came, leaving you standing outside of Silco’s office.

He can’t get mad at you if Jinx is the one who made you do it, right? Still, the longer she’s gone the more your mind rolls back the clock, thinking of earlier. His thumb on your lip. The way his fingers had started to comb into your hair before you’d fallen. His smokily murmured ‘good girl.’

Janna, now is not the time.

‘When given the time to do so, I expect you to practice with that hand, regardless of whether or not you are being observed.’

Well you certainly have the inspiration for next time you get a chance unobserved. Gods.

A thud from the other side of the door, and a soft yelp, pulls your attention back to far more important things.

“Jinx?” You rattle the handle, ear to the door. “You alright, kid?”

There’s some knocking about inside for a second. Then a call of, “I’m good!” And a singsong- “Just a second!”

Sure enough, after a jiggling from her side, the knob turns and the door opens.

“You okay?” you ask immediately, looking for any blood, scrapes, or bruises. But no, just messy blue hair.

“Yep!” Your incredulous look earns you an emphatic, “Crisp as a crabapple!”

“A— what?”

But she’s already tugging you inside and locking the door behind you. “It’s just a long fall, that’s all.” She points up.

Well shit, wouldja look at that. You let out a low whistle. “You jumped from up there?”

“Uh huh. It’s kinda hard to get to, but there’s a way up through the utility closet, and then if ya scoot around through some rafters you can go right on the wall next to the second bedroom - not in the room, it’s got a lower ceiling, but like on top, kinda? - and you can get to the side with the windows.”

You didn’t follow any of that. “You make it a habit of listening in on Silco’s office hours?” you ask, trying to keep the wariness from your voice. The idea of her having seen you with her not-dad is a completely different level of horrifying, without any pleasant side effects, just a clammy dread that rings with hollow guilt.

Jinx pulls a face. “Ew, no. Not usually, anyway. But it’s good to know when he’s in here so—” She stops suddenly. “So uh. I don’t… bother him.”

You can barely hold back your snort. ‘So I don’t get caught,’ those are the words she’s actually saying.

Jinx pulls you to the couch and you very carefully refrain from thinking about earlier. “Siddown.”

So apparently you just let this whole family boss you around, huh? You sit. “I’m reading?” you verify.

Jinx nods. “And I’m gonna work on making notes for Poppet.”

“Poppet?” Holy shit that’s adorable.

“It’s what I’m naming the cookie blaster.”

You refrain from pointing out that cookie blaster is just as good of a name. Poppet is too stupidly cute to bother arguing over. Instead, you prop yourself in the corner of the couch and start reading.

You even make a point of flipping the pages with your bad hand.

—

The thing about Jinx is that she gets in the Zone and doesn’t leave it. You read continuously, enjoying your time, while Jinx scribbles and scrawls and interrupts every so often with a question or comment about the story (“that’s dumb” or “I knew that was gonna happen”), or asking for an opinion on a detail about the Poppet gun.

It was on the second short story that you noticed her migrating closer. By the third she’s shifted onto the floor to lean against your shins as she uses the coffee table as a writing desk.

The contact is… nicer than you thought. It’s not demanding, just that particular flavor of close coexistence that Jinx is partial to. You like it, oddly.

Still, at some point your back starts to twinge, and you free your knees from behind her and slide yourself to lay out on the couch, propping the book on your chest. A few minutes later, Jinx clambers up onto the sofa as well, wriggling to wedge herself under your legs, her notepad balanced across your knees. You’re glad for the book hiding your smile from the kid.

There’s only one story she vetoes.

“‘Rhion and her sister Friya were known for-’”

“Not this one.”

You blink, tilting the book to glance over at her. Jinx’s brows are furrowed, hand tight on her marker as she turns the page in her notebook hard enough to partially rip the bound edge. Her voice is tight and hard, a little angry cut in the air.

You assume she knows the story, even if you don’t. Something about it has her tensing, hunching closer to her work. “…Okay.” You have no intention of making this worse, so you just flip to the next story.

Some time later, Jinx sits up suddenly announcing it’s time for food. You sigh, well aware that now is when you’ll actually have to do a task that needs your hand for more than flipping pages. Somehow you’re able to convince her to let you make the meal while she camps out and makes sure no one else gets into Silco’s office. It’s a good self-assigned challenge.

When you return with Jinx’s order (plus some spicy pickled veg that should hopefully be fiery enough to overwhelm her distaste for greens), she helps you set things down, and you both sit on the floor with the couch at your backs. A hand to cover your chewing also hides the self-satisfied smirk as the kid wolfs down a bowl of veg along with nearly half the pitcher of water you struggled to get up here.

You might be a little attached to the kid.

It wasn’t something you wanted, but it’s a relief to interact with someone who’s straightforward and easily distractible, who thinks you’re funny and-

“You look pretty today.”

“Really?” It takes you a second to realize that your baffled incredulity isn’t the appropriate response, and add- “Thanks.”

“It’s weird.”

You snort. Yeah, that’s more what you were expecting. “Thanks,” you repeat, this time in a sarcastic drawl.

Jinx’s smile is toothy. “You look like the new people that come trying to get hired.”

Shoulders shake with a soft laugh as you straighten your sandwich before picking it up again. “I mean, I had to apologize to Silco this morning, so I may have gone more for a ‘don’t fire me’ vibe than a ‘hire me’ vibe.”

Her pshaw noise comes with a spray of crumbs, so you snatch up a napkin and hand it over. Her haphazard cleanup doesn’t make a considerable difference. “He wouldn’t fire you,” she assures. “I like you too much.”

It flares something warm in your chest. “Oh. Thanks, Jinx.” The little twinge is too light and bubbly by half.

“No problemo, buddy.” She shoves a thumbs up in your direction, and you grin. Yep, feels the right amount of awkward casual. This kid is carving out a little Jinx-shaped chink in your armor and she doesn’t even know.

—

Maybe you were supposed to stop Jinx from writing on the coffee table with her markers, but you didn’t. Theoretically, Jinx could’ve gotten in to do this all on her own and you wouldn’t have even been here to stop it, so it’s not your responsibility. But while she worked on that you flipped to the back half of the book, laying across the couch on your stomach, shoving a pillow under your chin as you tried to find a story whose illustrations you liked.

Halfway through a story about ‘Drakes and Daring,’ Jinx climbs right on top of you, making your words falter. Her nervous pause and babbled apology is met with quick reassurances, despite the ticklish heat nipping at your toes. Jinx wedges herself between your body and the back of the sofa, and soon is completely out.

It’s so strange.

You’re not used to being this close to someone. Are you supposed to, like… hold her? No, that’s weird. You’d have to roll over to do it, anyway. Right now you’re like two cats just stacked on top of one another. Should you get up? But moving might wake her.

Glancing at her over your shoulder… She’s kinda stupid adorable when she’s asleep.

The fluttery nervous feeling rackets around in your chest like a bird in a cage. For some reason, your eyes start to water. A short sharp breath of a laugh jolts your frame in immediate reaction to that fact, but when the motion makes Jinx stir you try to relax again.

There’s no reason for this to make you emotional. You’re being silly. It’s the meds and the stress and the— everything. Hormones? Spicy food? You can probably come up with a million excuses as to why having a twelve year old not-quite-snoring with her cheek against your back is giving you Strange Emotions.

Reading aloud isn’t happening anymore, but you finish the story for yourself anyway. If she asks how it ended, you’ll want to know. Jinx wriggles around and knees you in the butt as she rotates, then settles splayed over you like you’re her own personal (if lumpy) space heater. You give up on doing anything else for the time being. Undoubtedly, she’ll wake you when she’s ready to do something else.

Jinx sighs in her sleep, and you find yourself echoing the noise before nuzzling into your pillow.

—

[next part]

[A slow chapter, sorry, but lots of Jinx! ;u; We’ve got some soft to make up for the sin of Silco’s pov ahahaha 😆

As always, please reblog if you want to help boost, nourish me with tags and/or comments if you’re feeling giving, or go show the fic some love over on ao3. Join the tag list by commenting on this linked post. Thanks for sticking’ around, y’all ^^ ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @of-the-argonath @arrlaauud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @emprixnix @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki @artificialwords @hehicular-hanslaughter-lecter @ironandglass

#silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco/reader #silco x f!reader #silcoxreader #a helping hand #wip:a helping hand #x-amount-writes #jinx arcane

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aforrestofstuff · 2 years

Text

Chapter 170 Expert Review

Garou said he liked a woman. People died.

Not me though lmao y'all take it easy!! I wanted to die earlier this week though because I got a haircut and they fucked my shit up severely but I'll get through it ok. I won't get any bitches but it'll be okay, I just gotta stay strong. (<- typed with tears in my eyes)

My schedule in doing these reviews has gone to shit because a lot of the time I just have absolutely zero opinions on new chapters... or entirely negative ones. And I don't wanna make a post that's just 100% negativity, y'know? Gotta balance it out. Gotta have the vanilla and the chocolate.

With that being said,

fuck the MA arc lmfao so glad that shit is over god bless amen i love you jesus!!!!!!

Nice cover. The perspective bothers me a bit, especially since Genos' feet are exactly the same size when one is below the other but it's FINE, okay. (<- also typed with tears in my eyes) (for legal reasons this is a joke i genuinely like this cover and i think it's swag)

But I'm being dramatic. The MA (Monster Association) arc wasn't all bad. There were little pockets of joy in between the seemingly pointless fighting chapters and that kinda solidified my opinion as this being the most "meh" arc in this manga thus far, and I'll elaborate on that. If you don't wanna read my neckbeard rant on the MA arc, you can go ahead and scroll down to my next bullet point. It's nothing I haven't said already. Just wanna preface it with the fact that these are my opinions and you're entitled to your own feelings. Hell, if you love the MA arc, I'll suck you dry right here right now! Just don't suibait me for disliking it hehe thnx <3

I think the manga is at its best when it's character-centric, as I'm sure that's why so many people love it to begin with. Those little chapters with Badd and King slingshotting themselves to the fight and the tanktoppers and other heroes running out of the hospital were honestly some of my favorites!! Everything else was just... kinda muddled together. A giant fight filled with smaller fights in an arc that takes up over half of the manga's current 170-chapter run yet takes place all in one night. So much happened, but it also feels like nothing happened. And in a way--nothing did, because ONE is allergic to committing to whatever hole he's dug himself into.

ONE purposefully backtracks on character-defining moments like the two fake-out deaths: Tanktop Master and Genos. Aside from it just being cheap, he treats death like a corner to write himself out of instead of an opportunity to shift the narrative and add a major risk factor, to which there was none. It was boring. Borderline infuriating, actually. Why even have so many fights just to show the good guy winning in a slightly different way every time?

It was especially jarring when Saitama time-traveled back and forgot all the shit that happened in the fight with Garou (which took 8 giant chapters, by the way). So why even do all that just for Genos' core and the Ominous Future to MAYBE crop up as a plot device later? Why elongate an already stupidly long arc with something that could've been achieved in a much shorter, simpler way?

There were over 20 redraws. Some of them were just Murata fixing some things he wanted to, which is fine, but then you have things like bringing back the mercenaries, bringing back Do-S, and retconning the Saitama sit-down arc, and it's just... confusing. It's confusing as a reader and I'm sure it was also confusing as a writer because it definitely gives the impression that ONE was in the office throwing darts at a board to see what happens next. It's like... does he even know what's going on? Why are we planting so many seeds for future plot points now, when the current plot is already plenty convoluted (yet, simultaneously lacking substance in favor of pretty pages)? CANT THIS FUCKING WAIT TILL LATER--

Whatever. It's over now. I hope it gets more ironed out in print. I'm just frustrated with this because OPM is supposed to be a satire of the shonen/seinen/whateverthefuck genre, yet ONE keeps allowing it to have the same narrative pitfalls as most others. (Also the same homophobic and racist tropes--can't just do like 80% of the same things as the genre you're claiming to satirize and say you're any different, ATP.)

Murata said he'd be taking a month-long break and good for him. Hope he parties hella hard.

TLDR: I think the MA arc is too long, the pacing sucks, too many fights, not enough substance. also drive knight is still a punk ass. also I think the time travel was stupid and I'm afraid ONE is gonna use it to weasel his way out of more consequences for his characters in the future but anyway,

In my rant about the MA arc, I completely forgot about the actual chapter I'm making this review about. I had to go back and re-read it. Anyways, fuck yeah character interactions! I love when people be talking to each other n shit! fuck yeah! woo! characters! love em! love guys!

this makes 0 sense but this is the most Garou that Garou has looked in years. I mean, over time Murata's art style has changed and that's just groovy, man! But I kinda missed his stupid little evil face. I wanna hit him with my car.

I was waiting and praying and creaming my pants to see him with short hair but that just... never happened. I'm not mad. We got to see him and Silverfang be the most dysfunctional pussy-eating uncle/bitchless nephew combo ever and that's just priceless, but it makes me curious how his whole redemption thing is gonna turn out, if it even happens. Because if this is it then... it's a bit underwhelming. I thought there'd be more introspection and humbling other than Garou just saying "Fuck y'all, I'm suicidal!" in front of everyone before leaping fifty feet into the air, meditating under a waterfall for an undetermined amount of time, and getting bonked over the head with a closed fist (which is illegal everywhere, btw. Silverfang prison arc when? /j)

What I mean is, Garou did a lot! A lot of bad stuff! Lots of bad things! And for that to be mended offscreen is... a weird choice. But I guess this is where Genos' core is gonna crop up later, my man's gonna make the callout post of the century: Garou Whooped My Ass In The Multiverse: Part 1 of 97, which is gonna send Garou spiraling and then he's gonna get humbled the only way he can be humbled! Working minimum wage. Because beating his ass to the point of him wanting to get laid out like carpet in the ruins of City Z just wasn't enough.

I like Garou. He's a cool character. I wanna kiss him on the lips.

I give ONE a lot of shit for his dubious writing decisions but he did well with Garou. That's it. That's all the praise I'm giving him.

This dude really tried to give Bang the ol' "you're not my dad!" Nice try, fuckhead. He's still got legal custody of you until you're 35 because you can't go 10 minutes unsupervised.

lmfao this dude's parents dont love him lmfaoooo what a loser lmfaooooooooooooo

I was right when I said Garou had mommy issues in that one fanfic I wrote over a year ago that I forgot the name of but I was right and everyone needs to know that for some reason or else I'll die

Anyways, it's nice to see Bang be a nice parental figure. I would call him a father figure but that ship sailed 50 years ago. My man is a grandfather figure. My man's an ancient figure. My man's an archaeological-find figure. My man's a 2-years-from-the-urn figure.

This dude beat so many of his own disciples' asses I was worried his first instinct upon finding Garou again would be to whoop him into silly putty, but I'm glad he's approaching it with kindness. This kinda goes in line with why Garou likes the girl he likes (whether it be as a crush or as a role model-esque kinda admiration, I don't fucking know nor do I care) because she's kind. I guess deep down, he knows it must take true strength to be kind in a world full of cruelty.

Also, I love how absolutely emotionally constipated he is to where he doesn't even know how to reply to Silverfang waxing poetic about being a parent. Motherfucker just yanked that shit right out before it sunk in and went "Ha! This is gay." I love you Garou. Never change-- actually, please change. On GOD we gonna get you therapy bro on my MOMMA you are gonna grow as a person !!!

Additional observations:

-Garou is so dorito-shaped here smh where's my slim-thicc king at, huh. Where's my wide hip representation?

-Adding on to what I said about Murata's art style evolving over time, one thing I'm kinda iffy on is how he's been drawing Garou a lot buffer on the top half lately. I also don't really like his shoulder muscles looking like padding lmfao. I mean, that could also be attributed to the extra training he got (and maybe Silverfang is actually feeding him 3 square dog kibble meals a day now since he wanna act a furry) so idk, take me back and shoot me between the eyes if I'm wrong.

-I know Silverfang is hunching over (probably from playing too much League of Legends, smh) but Garou is still so tall!!!

I know this fuckhead's immune system has gotta be benching 480 just from the monster arm he ate that one time, but how he is not worried about some kinda infection crawling up his bare asshole underneath that nasty ass river water just amazes me. Maybe that's why he's always clenching.

Garou: hey, fuck off you old shit! I'll kill you!

Garou: let me in ur house though? and train me? and feed me? pls? pls pls pls?

GUYYSSS HE INTENTIONALLY WENT TO THE WATERFALL BANG SHOWED HIM BECAUSE HE WANTED TO BE FOUND EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! He wants to be loved so bad ouuuugghhh he just wants affection ouuugughhhghhghuuhuh

And then he's emotionally constipated about it again because he tells SIlverfang he just wanted to perfect his "fist" which like, sure okay buddy you definitely didn't wanna freeload off air conditioning and dog kibble and perhaps even receive the parental affection you were starved of. okay yeah sure whatever.

"I'm gonna do the same" yeah until your ass gets EXPOSED in a 5-hour youtube documentary Genos is gonna upload to his 3 billion subscribers, you little scrub.

All the kids are friends! They're friends and they're besties and they're so nice to each other and I'm gonna dunk em all in my coffee.

I read "sentai" as hentai at first and almost went into cardiac arrest.

This page is so funny. "So, Garou, you've been normal for two days. you got a bitch yet?"

This whole thing reads as him pulling out some random name just to make Silverfang shut up. I've said this already but someone on Twitter said he brought it up so he can infodump about his favorite show, and that seems really plausible because he soon goes "Lemme tell you some shit about sentai, old man."

Also, the way he says "...or something?" to make it seem like he doesn't know literally everything about his favorite actress in his favorite show like, okay. We know you've got her horoscope and birthday bouncing around in that tiny ass head, you fucker. We know you read all the nerd-equivalents to those Cosmo mags about what kinda people she admires.

I love that he's a nerd, but we already knew that. He absorbed his entire worldview from cartoons and got relentlessly bullied at school--what's nerdier than that? And it's certainly no secret that he's pretty juvenile. Garou's just a lonely little kid in a body too big for his brain.

And the people saying Garou "liking" a girl (which again, it isn't even made clear which way Garou likes her) makes him straight are 1. incorrect (bi, ace, aro, etc people exist) and 2. unaware of the fact that I will draw him kissin boys until that little fucker turns to dust okay. I do not give a shit. Every time someone complains about it, I imagine him kissin a boy 5 more times. Suck my ass.

In conclusion: Kiiro ("...or something?") is actually pretty cute haha mrow. trust me girl, whatever you got lined up aint nothing to me haha i can treat you RIGHT (after my hair grows out)

In conclusion 2.0: Rover is definitely showing up again soon also, which is cool. Good chapter. Love characters! woo! love it! Finally, the evil is defeated (MA arc) woo! yay! yeah! fuck!

Thanks for reading! Tomorrow's my birthday (august 21st)! I'll be 21! You all have to wish me happy birthday or i swear to god ill start crying

#opm #garou #saitama #tareo #genos #silverfang #one punch man #meta #suicide mention

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mareastrorum · 7 months

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The Fool and the Soldier: Chapter Commentary

Chapter 5: Gift & Debt

On off weeks, I’ll be posting some commentary on the prior week’s chapter. Since this is a longfic, I expect that it will be helpful for keeping track of stuff, plus I might mention something you missed. Of course, this will include spoilers, so continue with that in mind.

These aren’t meant to be comprehensive! There is so much more going on that I’m not saying. Feel free to ask questions too, either in replies or asks. If it’s too spoilery, I’ll let you know. I’ll add them to the body at the bottom as I receive them.

See the directory for other meta posts.

Gift & Debt

What’s this?! We haven’t seen this card! But no worries, Jester makes the card about halfway through the chapter.

There’s a lot of toxic fandom discourse on what characters “deserve” and that eventually culminated into an intent to explore that in the story. This chapter juxtaposes a lot of the characters’ worldviews on what must to be earned/paid versus what should be given freely.

Luctus

The first thing I came up with for Luctus was the sensory perception: pain. It immediately came to mind when I looked up the latin word luctus, which means grief or sorrow. I didn’t feel that I needed to iron it out further for the emotion, so this was an easy fit.

Next was the school of magic. She wasn’t encountered in the stream, but her ability during the Lucien fight was a Slow spell with a dexterity save instead of the usual wisdom save. This wasn’t the only eye that had slightly different effects than a normal spell—Vigilan’s anti-magic cone dispelled magic rather than suppressed it until it passed out of the field (at least, sometimes).

Slow is an interesting spell. It’s transmutation, which is all about changing reality (and I had already decided on another Somnovem for that school). It affects a specific number of targets in a space. According to the PHB, wisdom is about being in tune with the world, particularly with perceiving it. Thus, a wisdom save for avoiding a Slow effect makes sense if the point is to resist a change to one’s own perception of the world. After all, if it was actually changing the space itself, then there wouldn’t be a limit on the number of targets, and it would be avoided or exited by leaving the area. So it changes the target, not the world. Makes sense for a level 3 spell.

But Luctus’s Slow required a dexterity save, which is the score for agility, reflexes, and balance. Dexterity saves are usually for dodging an ability, but not all the Somnovem’s abilities used that save, so it wasn’t about avoiding an eye’s gaze. There’s a couple ways to interpret that, like maybe it’s a stronger transmutation of the same effect, but it affects everything in that area, so it has to be dodged. However, Matt didn’t pull out any AOE measuring props to see who else he could get; Luctus looked directly at Fjord in episode 139, then Veth in 140. Matt also didn’t describe a beam or any projectile. They both felt a wave of grief and sadness, which imparted the effect. So I don’t think it was about dodging so much as it was about the character’s general speed and agility.

So I chewed on that for a while, until it suddenly clicked: dunamancy. Dunamancy has both chronomancy and graviturgy specialties. It would totally track to have either of those require a dexterity save rather than any other stat to resist a slowing effect. Once I had that, I came up with Luctus’s role.

And as I thought that over, I also had my fix for why Molly survived at Glory Run Road: Luctus used Cognouza to alter the timeline.

You might wanna check out those first two scenes in chapter 1.

Pieces

The first draft of this scene didn’t have the funky kerning and formatting. It was going to be very brief, only giving the reader a vague sense of what had happened to Lucien.

However, once I got used to testing out different types of formatting quirks, I decided to use that here to emphasize how disorienting it was for Lucien. Since this was third-person limited perspective, and his perception of the world would have been shattered, the text was as well.

Gems

I wanted to do a check-in with Nott because she spent so long in the early campaign keeping her backstory to herself, and she’s in the background for a lot of Fjord’s arc. Much of her dialogue makes more sense in a second watch of the campaign. She projected a lot of her issues onto other people, and she used that lens to decide what she should do for herself.

The actual events of the scene weren’t that important though. I almost cut it entirely and added a scene for Nott elsewhere, but I wanted Nott’s canon dialogue about not being good yet, but trying to do good. It’s such a big part of who the Nein are at every point in their story. Thus, I kept it.

Debts

This scene was so long originally. I think it was nearly 9,000 words at one point. Then I cut it, then it bloated again, then I cut it more, etc. I think this is the 5th or 6th major version of it.

I chose Fjord’s POV for this because his arc is coming into focus next and I wanted to lay some ground work about where his head is at. There’s also a lot of parallels between him and Molly that will come into play.

Gustav’s bail was always going to be a big scene in the early chapters because Molly would have been there to realize that Gustav knew about Kylre. However, then the origin comic came out, and I was like, wait, was Kylre the reason Lestera died? She wasn’t that old—no gray hair, no signs of illness, no weak constitution, etc. There’s no way to confirm it, but considering that nergaliids can passively feed off people, then Molly would have thought that was a possibility. No reason to be extra upset about it… unless Gustav knew all along.

Molly’s only really gotten angry a few times in canon, typically when other people are getting hurt. He didn’t show anger if people disagreed with him over plans or anything. In the comic, he dealt with his anger through choir practice, and that was honestly more fun for him than anything else, with his anger showing before he came up with an idea of what to do. He wasn’t even that angry at Kylre when he chased him down with the Nein.

But Gustav was supposed to take care of the carnival, he brought Kylre in, and he knew what was happening the whole time. Kylre’s betrayal was more straightforward, and it didn’t really harm anyone at the carnival (other than possibly Toya). It’d be like being angry at a wolf for hunting a person instead of a sheep. Instead, it seemed like Gustav put people in danger for coin, after all the lessons and mannerisms that Molly picked up from him.

So, yeah, Molly was pissed.

I also wanted to explore the Nein’s various moral leanings and perspectives of the world. Fjord and Caleb are more on the end of earning what you have—there’s an expectation of behaving a certain way under threat of punishment. Fjord would have gotten that from his time at the orphanage and as a sailor. Caleb learned that from growing up poor in a totalitarian regime and then training as a Volstrucker. It took a long time for both of them to shake out of that mindset in their respective arcs.

In comparison, Jester and Caduceus have kinder outlooks. They didn’t let outrage override their sense of fairness. It wasn’t like Gustav or the carnival had been rolling in funds, so it couldn’t have been just about money. So they stood up to the others and asked questions to get at the heart of why Gustav had done it in the first place.

Nott and Beau struck me as somewhere in the middle. Beau rebels against authority and has a powerful curiosity, so she’d be wary of the idea of meting out justice without knowing all the facts. Thus, I had her stop Molly (to protect him from getting arrested for murder) at the start, then hold him back until they got answers. Nott backed up Caleb, of course, but after the scene she just had about trying to do good, she’d feel uncertain about it while she does it. After all, how many people did she help torture and kill because she was scared of what the goblin tribe would do to her?

Taliesin said in a Talks that his concept of Molly was an unaligned character that broke traditional D&D alignment. Thus, Molly is not a good person. That doesn’t mean he’s evil, lawful, chaotic, nor neutral. He’s unaligned. He thinks he’s a good person and tries to do good—when he feels like it. He has a code that no one actually understands, but it makes sense to him, so who knows if he follows it? He likes mischief and causing chaos, but also wants things to make sense. He does what he feels like when he thinks he should, sometimes. Unless he doesn’t. But there’s rules to it. Maybe.

In short, he’s a two-year-old adult. Two. Years. That is not a lot of time to come up with a comprehensive, consistent view of what the world is, what it should be, nor how he should handle discrepancies. That doesn’t mean Molly isn’t capable of acting rationally or being persuaded to do something he doesn’t initially want to do. He listens to people, and even if he talks back, he’ll go with the flow.

That resulted in this scene, with half the group wanting to kill Gustav, and ending with them letting him go.

Easter egg: I had Molly’s swords get caught on the coat because it was Lestera’s. As discussed in the next scene, she wouldn’t have wanted him to kill Gustav, so that was added here as a symbolic show of her interference.

Stories

Molly drank alone to panic after he first got his Rite of the Dawn unlocked in Alfield, so I figured he’d try to isolate after what happened. Maybe he would have sought some comfort with Yasha because she’d trusted Gustav too, but she’s unfortunately not there.

Jester to the rescue! This provided exposition about Molly’s thought process through the prior scene, and it showed just how much it rocked Molly’s view of a few things. Even so, he’s not angry at any of the Nein, nor did he hold what they did against them. His emotions were just running high and he’s having trouble keeping a grip.

I wanted to explore Molly’s and Jester’s relationship a bit. In all honesty, their personalities are very well suited to each other: they like having fun, they understand each other well, they’ve got each other’s backs, and they both prioritize helping people at their own expense. They also enable each other to their detriment, and their maturity is a bit stunted because of that. That said, Jester’s a romantic and Molly’s a hedonist. They have very different views of what relationships should be and what they’d want out of it, so the scene doesn’t stray from a platonic feel. Thus, I had them order different drinks, and neither would ever order the other’s for themselves. Despite that they showed some physical affection and even got caught on each other’s horns, it’s all in silly fun.

This scene also gives a lampshade to the naming convention to for the fanfic (which was discussed in a prior meta post): each of the chapters is named after one of the cards, and the reason is that they’re conveying a theme through a story rather than saying something outright. However, it’s not just for the readers. The characters also refuse to acknowledge certain truths, so they cope by telling stories (Caleb’s book, Molly’s cards, Cad asking Gustav for his story, etc.). Heck, even Molly does it, by telling stories about his time at the carnival instead of answering Jester’s questions outright—but it’s not Jester who doesn’t want to hear the answer.

Worries

Time for the terrible spellcasters to be terrible together. At this point in their arcs, Caleb and Fjord are also enablers for each other. The worst thing is, they rationalize their decisions as being best for the Nein or the world generally, not just themselves. Yes, they’re worried about Molly, but there’s also that tempting blood magic that might be useful somehow, plus whatever happens to Molly might affect their aspirations, etc.

I went with Caleb’s POV because he would be having a rough time with the events of the day. This was basically sandpaper on an old wound. He betrayed his parents and murdered them for the Empire. He betrayed Astrid and Eadwulf by attacking them and then by fleeing the Sanatorium without seeking them out to tell them the truth. Ikithon betrayed them by altering their memories and warping them into weapons for the Empire. Caleb’s only just started to truly grasp that he’s been fed Imperial propaganda his whole life. He’s been wrestling with the idea of whether his own judgment can be trusted and whether he can or should try to do anything about Ikithon or the Volstrucker. Then the group decided to let Gustav go when he wanted to kill Gustav, and it hit him fairly quickly that he’d made a rash decision that was rightfully overruled.

He’s a mess.

Then, along comes Molly (also a mess) to ask for a silly favor to borrow Frumpkin because he can’t sleep. That manages to pull Caleb’s head out of his own butt long enough so that he can get to sleep too.

It’s almost like they feel better about their own bullshit when they help other people…

Zoran Kluthidol

The first part of this scene about the hounds was in one of my earliest sets of notes from August 2022. It was one of the first scenes I wrote for the Tombtakers. I’ll discuss more of Zoran’s backstory in a separate meta post, but the key thing for this scene is that goliaths travel in herds and are fairly isolated from other communities. A lot of this scene came from my brainstorming about what sort of goliath would leave his tribe and wind up at the Claret Orders.

Once I came up with the basics for both backstories, I considered what Zoran would have thought about Lucien. Timing wise, I figured that Zoran would have already been at the Orders for a while when Lucien joined, and Zoran would have joined as an adult (because that’s when he would have left his tribe). Lucien would have joined as a pre-teen. Thus, Lucien would have been a tiny brat compared to Zoran, a fully-grown goliath.

Then I thought, what sort of person would Lucien need to be for Zoran to respect him enough to take up an offer to form a mercenary group and leave the Orders? (Reminder: Lucien died at 23, after the Tombtakers were active for at least 5 years—so he led them away when he was no older than 18!)

A fucking brawler, that’s what. Someone who could kick his ass when he had no right doing it. This scene helped me flesh out both of their personalities in that respect.

Thing is, an introductory scene can’t just be about the character getting his ass beat by a mostly-dead antagonist if the point is to show he’s not a pushover. Thus, there’s some bits to show that Zoran specifically enjoys hunts, not just fights, and he doesn’t care as much about the outcome as Lucien did. It also shows that he’s still someone to be feared and does as he pleases because of it.

(And captainsparklefingers nailed that Zoran snagged a bottle of Lionett wine from the storage room!)

Zoran is the other Ghostslayer of the Tombtakers, so his POV gives insight into that as well. He immediately clocked how fucked up it was for Cree to make Lucien an undead, and he’s intuitive enough to recognize several implications that stem from that. He also doesn’t take what Cree and Otis say at face value; he recognizes their biases and takes that into account. Finally, he’s got some reservations about the Somnovem and the Pattern, even if he enjoyed how it felt at the time.

But Zoran’s not the schemer. As fucked as the situation is, he’s more comfortable following the others’ leads. So, for now, he’s settling in for whatever insanity Lucien’s going to lead them into, and he’s well aware it’s going to be messy. That’s what’s fun, after all.

Senses

Another check-in with Lucien. There’s some subtle hints of what the Somnovem are up to. I also included a demonstration of Luctus’s ability to warp time. As she mentioned in her later scene, she had to “undo” some things, so the reader gets to see an example of that here.

Dream: Bait

The introductory poem is “To a Squirrel at Kyle-Na-No” by William Butler Yeats, an Irish poet and politician. He’s a fascinating historical figure that turned to some seriously questionable views about how the world should work in his later years, and I thought that was perfect for including here. I’m being vague about it because I think you should read it up yourself—and you’ll hopefully get a sense of why I thought, of all the poems I could have chosen, his poem about trying to pet a squirrel was appropriate here.

It’s fairly obvious that the overarching theme of this dream is bait. I had considered including scenes where Lucien hunted for small animals, but honestly, that would be a terrible idea for kids in the Savalirwood. Fishing would have been safer, and it gave an opportunity for some exposition from an adult.

Every other scene in the dream includes an example of using bait to lure someone to or from something. First was Cree distracting guards while Lucien snuck out of a house he robbed. (There’s a clue as to whose house it was…) Second was Lucien trying to bait the goliath into harassing Cree instead of him, but it’s too tempting to bother the tiefling that’s already so close to the water. Third was Lucien distracting vendors so Cree could nab wares at the market, plus acting as lookout for Greytraders that might have caught her otherwise.

Fourth was an unfortunate example of Lucien leading some thugs to his group when they were looking to snatch orphans and sell them off to the Mardoons or Jagentoths—slavers. The fisherman mentioned three sets of three are extra special: Lucien’s red eyes, purple skin, and horns (as noted when he spooked the baker); Cree’s a “half-beast” girl with gold eyes; and the half-orc is also a “half-beast” girl, but with blue eyes. Being good bait isn’t always a boon.

And now, look back at that poem. Hmmm. HMMMM…

The rhyme in the market scene is the last verse of a popular Irish song, “Molly Malone.” Cockles are a relatively easily-foraged shellfish that are a common street food in coastal towns, and they’re often used as bait for fishing. Mussels are another shellfish, found both at sea and in freshwater. While Shadycreek Run is a fair distance inland, it’s also a trade point between the rest of the Greying Wildlands and the Empire. While I doubt there would actually be hawkers wheeling barrows of shellfish to sell in the Run, there’s some obvious puns and references to prostitution in the song, which was also a thriving business in town. Plus it’s totally the kind of place that would have rumors of a ghost trying to sell wares.

Gifts

Then we go to Molly, who, as expected, is doing his best to not deal with what happened and is instead fixating on his name. Identity was a big thing for him, so it makes sense that he’d focus on that rather than process his feelings about Gustav or mourn Lestera a second time.

I figured Fjord would be optimal for that conversation because Fjord was the one who wavered about his last name, Stone. Vandran had argued to him that it was a good name, which tempered his distaste for it. However, once Fjord learned about Vandran in the stream, that threw it all into question again. Thus, of all the people in the Nein who would understand, Fjord’s best suited.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a heart to heart with Molly without a +0 to Charisma moment like him insinuating that Fjord should have seen Sabian’s betrayal coming. That said, Fjord is dense sometimes, and even then, he’d be used to Molly’s brand of arrogance to know better than to take it at face value.

I can’t recall the exact context (I’ll update this if I ever find the quote), but Taliesin once mentioned that he expected a party pet to “make an alligator so happy.” I immediately thought of that while outlining this stretch of time and saw that the pet vendor would be dealt with here. I planned to include it as Molly’s dialogue for one of Jester’s pets, then realized that she would probably goad him to buy the peacock, which he would definitely decline. Molly had also mentioned that the carnival had named a horse Winter’s Crest because that was when they planned to eat it if it lasted that long. That evolved into this section where Jester bought him the peacock and he suggested the Nein eat it instead.

Jester had more gold to spend at this point because Molly pitched in to buy Nott’s cloak and for Gustav’s bail. The Nein also had more coin overall because more guards had been killed at the Sour Nest. Thus, while Jester is still pretty broke, she’s doing a little better than she had been in the stream.

Bruises

Caduceus is still taking it easy, but he’s learning to enjoy the trip. I wanted to include a POV for him because I thought he would do a half-apology to Molly, and it’s fun to explore their relationship since it was a blank slate. We also got to see that Molly’s doing better after a few days.

More cards for Molly’s deck! These will absolutely be chapter titles in the future.

Tyffial Wase

Tyffial was the last of the Tombtakers that I fleshed out. It took a while to come up with her backstory, but once it clicked, everything fell into place rather easily.

In the Critical Role artbook “The Chronicles of Exandria - The Mighty Nein” there is a blurb about the Tombtakers based on Beau’s notes that were submitted to the Cobalt Soul, and Adon Zeenoth personally crossed out Tyffial’s name. I took that to mean that Zeenoth must have known Tyffial somehow. They’re both elves, but there was no indication about their ages in canon. But why would he personally censor records naming her? There had to be something he didn’t want people to know about her, but I had to come up with what that would be and why he would do it unprompted.

First, I tried to come up with what Tyffial would have been doing before she joined the Claret Orders. Nothing really came to mind, so I thought instead, why would an elf with a long lifespan join the Order of the Mutant and then defect to follow an 18-year-old (or so) to form a mercenary band? I had considered the route grayintogreen took where Tyffial was also from Shadycreek Run and grew up with Lucien and Cree, but I wanted to do something new. There’s not a lot of takes on the Tombtakers, so there’s a lot of possibilities that hadn’t been done yet.

Then I thought, well, what if she was bored? Elves live a long time. What if she joined the Orders out of boredom? Then she’d leave once she was bored of that, too. That would make sense, especially if Lucien comes up with exciting jobs, and we (the audience) knew that eventually took the Tombtakers to Molaesmyr. But a young elf wouldn’t get bored that quickly. Their sense of time passing would be about the same as a younger race until they started getting up there in years.

So Tyffial is fucking old. The Order of the Mutant makes sense because then she can adjust her abilities and her looks using mutagens. And that gave me a reason for her to know Zeenoth, an Archivist at the Soul: he’s covering up her tracks when she comes up with a new identity. He’s taken bribes before, so a bribe mixed with threat of violence would certainly keep him acting on Tyffial’s behalf.

Tyffial’s backstory will be explored over time in TF&TS, but there will be hints aplenty about just how long she’s been around. For example: what names does she use to refer to certain places?

I’ll note that I came up with this before it was revealed that Ludinus Da’leth was artificially extending his lifespan. I was so hyped when C3 started exploring that. More things to chew on.

Lucien & Luctus

Yet another look into Lucien’s relationship with the Somnovem. I don’t want to point out too many hints, but there were several. Is he needlessly paranoid or rightly distrustful? Time will tell.

Now Lucien has a body! Kind of. Curious that the Somnovem did that after he was defeated on the Material Plane…

#TF&TS #TF&TS meta #chapter commentary

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