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captainlondonman · 5 months
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Skin or not Skin
Jake remembered exactly the first day he got off on Skinheads. The day when Skins started to infiltrate his brain. He was walking down the High Street when he saw in front of him 3 Skinheads from the rear. Two were in tight bleachers which seemed moulded to their arses, the other was in camos. All had high boots with either red or white laces, the boots were highly polished. All wore Alpha bomber jackets. The taller was clearly powerfully built  and his green jacket had the sleeves pushed up to show off all his tattoos and Jake could see the spider web tattoo all the way across his neck. The other two guys were smaller, the chubbier one’s arse really filled out his bleachers he wore a black alpha bomber and the third guy wore green to go with his camos. They walked together in a threatening way and Jake could see people turning round to stare. He heard the tall one shout out
‘What the fuck are you looking at. Never seen a Skin before. Quit the looking or I’ll punch the living daylight out of ya.’
‘Who the fuck’ he turned to his friend. ‘We’re skins we own this fucking place. I take no fucking prisoners.’
Jake’s cock was rigid, he looked down at his trackies and Christ it was making a huge bulge. He quickly wrapped his jacket over his trackies to conceal it but he felt so horny looking at these powerful gays with their shaved heads. They oozed power and aggression. He was under their spell.
They walked off in a different direction but as soon as Jake got inside his flat he had his cock down his trackies, still rigid and now a large wet patch of precum showing. He flipped his cock out and leant back against the wall with his eyes closed  dreaming of especially the tall guy imagining what he looked like from the front, imagining that if his bleachers were tight on his arse then he would be showing a huge bulge inching its way down his leg. He wanted to be at the guy’s mercy on his knees ready to take the cock all the way down his throat. He wanted to feel part of the Skin. Jake’s decent sized prick was almost vertical it was so hard as he started to run his hand up and down the shaft his cock head glistening with precum. The more he rubbed he more he could almost feel himself under full control of the Skin, being a full sub to his top. He could see the full picture of the Skin and his mind was in overdrive as his wanking brought him to  ejaculate. He threw his body outwards, shouting ‘fuck me Skin let me be your slave.’ His spunk lashed out, the biggest wank and most cum he had had in ages. He was hooked.
Jake could not get the ideas of Skinheads out of his mind and he started trawling the internet for photos. Once he got on to Tumblr, there were photos everywhere, not just normal pics but Skins fucking and sucking each other. Jake had never wanked as much in his life. The more he looked at these sites he suddenly one day decided he needed to have some of his own gear that he could wear around the flat. Nobody need know but at least he could feel more like a Skin. He went on to eBay to see what he might get and sure enough he bought the long white socks, the Lonsdale T shirt and red braces. He went on to the Doc Martens web site and found the high boots with red laces. Under bomber jackets he found the green Alpha jacket just like the tall skin who even though he had not seen the guys face was becoming his idol. Finally there was a bleachers site and he looked to see what was available. He hardly needed to decide it had to be ones with the rear zip. He was impatient to have them all and each day hoped the postman would deliver the clothes he craved for. They duly arrived and he was ready to wear for the first time but he also purchased two other items to complete his pleasure.
Jake laid all his new clothes out and stood back to admire. It was all Skin gear and he could wear the things that Skins wore and feel like one of them even if he wasn’t. It wasn’t as easy as he thought to put it all on especially lacing up the boots but before he managed to step into his bleachers his cock was so hard and pulsating with pleasure. Just like his hero they were so tight at the arse but his thick cock was stuffed down his right leg making a bulge that he never knew he had. There was the beginning of a precum stain showing. He put on the T shirt and then attached the braces to the jeans. At first he pulled them up but then remembered his idol let them hang down and so he did the same. He put on the green alpha bomber last and stood with his legs apart staring at his new look in the mirror. OK so he still had his head of dark wavy hair but he looked like a God, almost a Skin. So he could act out the part he took his new piece of clothing out. A full rubber hood with eye slits and another for his mouth. He pulled it down tight and it was pressed tight against his whole face all the way down to the base of his neck. He then looked at himself. Now he no longer looked like Jake but like a Skin. He let his arms swing wide and staring into the mirror he shouted
‘I’m a fucking Skin mate, I’ll fucking kill you. You want a fuck well I’m a skin fucker. I take no shit.’
His cock was bursting as he felt himself become a skin but he needed the one final thing. From his bed he took up the 9” black rubber dildo and let a few gobs of spit roll over the shaft. Easing the rear zip down he let himself go into the squat position and pushed the dildo up the crack of his arse. Watching his reflection he carried out shouting ‘I wanna be fucked by a skin. Skin to fucking skin. A good sized dick up my arse. Only a skin dick.’
He could feel the dildo moving up inside him until it was all the way up to the hilt. He felt as if his idol was inside him. His skin idol fucking the living daylights of him and he also a skin.
Using one hand to push and pull at the dildo he undid his front zip and yanked out his boner, taking it firmly in his other hand.
‘That’s it mate fuck me you skin and let me cum.’
 The more he rammed the dildo in and out of his arse the more his hand gripped his shaft. He was hardly needing to wank such was his excitement at seeing himself almost a skin and with a black rubber dildo all the way up him.
‘Fuck me you fucking skin, take me, spunk all the way up me man.’
And with that he came his cum spraying across the mirror, running in thick globs down, white and thickly creamy.
That night Jake slept in his full skin gear feeling encased being a skin. He woke up every now and then to press his hand on his seemingly constant erect cock. He had never felt like this.
He had hoped to rush home from work the next day to get back into his gear but had to meet friends after work for a drink His mates asked him if he was Ok as he seemed on edge but it was only because he wanted to stand in front of the mirror and shout abuse at himself.
As he left the pub he suddenly caught sight of his Idol, again the rear view only. He was on his own and looked as if he was on a mission. This time Jake thought he did not want to let him out of his view so quietly managed to follow him. He went down the edge of the old railway sidings making it difficult for Jake to hide but he managed to keep on the other side of the old railway carriages. The Idol walked into the darkened tunnel and stood at the far end leaning against the wall. Jake could now see what he looked like and it was even better than he imagined with the shaved head, the cobweb tattoo and a scar on one of his cheeks. He had obviously been in many fights and his nose looked like a boxer’s having been broken several times. But to Jake he was all man and good looking. As Jake stared at him  his cock was hard and he started stroking the trousers as his breathing increased. Suddenly he was aware of a noise on the other side of the carriages. Crouching he looked under the wheels and saw a pair of high Doc Martens with white laces moving towards the tunnel. The guy stopped at the tunnel opening. The Idol turned round to see who was approaching and put his hand to his crotch stroking the full length of his shaft and arching his back out so they could see the full thick outline. The new Skin stopped and also stroked his bleachers. He was a muscle guy with just bleachers and vest and Jake could see the tattoos all down both arms. The Idol unzipped his flies and brought out his cock. Christ it looked huge and was glistening in the night light. He then took his hand and started massaging the shaft. The other Skin started walking down the tunnel until he was facing the Idol who put one  arm out grabbing the guys hand and placing it firmly on his cock, his other arm going round the Skin’s neck and pulling him in to tongue him. Jake thought he would cum without any wanking he was so excited.
Suddenly the Idol moved his arms and spun the Skin round so he was flattened against the wall of the tunnel. The guy put up his arms and moved his arse out into the Idol’s crotch
The Idol pulled down the rear zip of the guy’s bleachers and poked two finger into his crack, moving them around to widen the hole. Taking the finger out he let spit drop onto his prick and rubbed it gently up and down the shaft so his spit covered the full length of his tool. Placing one arm on the guys shoulder he used the other to guide his dick into the crack and slowly Jake could see him shoving it up the full length. The skins mouth opened in pain as he could feel the thick diameter force its  way up. But he clearly loved it as he pushed his arse outwards so he could feel the Idol’s pubes rub against his bum. With his cock fully up, the Idol put both arms on the shoulders of the skin and started to push and pull sliding his cock almost the whole way out and then ramming it back in with greater force. The more he pushed the more the Skin shoved his arse backwards. The idol gripped hard the shoulder blades as his pleasure increased. Jake could make out that he was nearing his orgasm. Jakes cock was so hard it was painful and though he put his hand into trousers  it was caught inside so he had to rub the denim. As the Idol shot his load so Jakes own cock exploded down inside some of the cum oozing out through the fabric the rest forming a long drip line. Jake was breathless. This was like a dream come true the only drawback was that it was not him with the Idol. The two skins zipped up and giving one another a good tonguing, went their separate ways. It was only raw sex they wanted and both had been satisfied.
For Jake this was almost a dream come true, seeing the Idol ‘s large prick and then seeing it ramming the other Skin. He hardly slept working out his next move but he knew what had to be done.
The next evening when it was dark he put on all his Skin gear apart from the mask and slipped out of his apartment with a long coat covering most of his gear up in case someone saw him. He drove down near the tunnel and parked up then got out to hide in the bushes. His heart was racing. Would the skin return looking for more sex. The mere possibility had his cock hard the bulge straining against his bleachers. He heard a noise and sure enough his idol walked past and into the tunnel loitering at the end where there was a glow of light.
Jake was terrified but he so wanted to have the Skins cock. He put on the rubber hood pulling it tightly down over his head and neck. No one would know he was not a skin as the hood was so tight. He moved out of the bushes and started to walk towards the tunnel, making sure he walked with a swagger just like a Skin his arms slightly out as though he might be ready for a fight.
The Skin saw him at the end of the tunnel and stubbed out the ciggie from his mouth to let his hand come down and stroke his bulge. In the dim light Jake could make out the long hard bulge. Jake let one of his hands rub his own dick in the hope the Skin could see that he was also well hung. Jake felt like a skin about to have a session with another real Skin.
Trying not to breathe too heavily he approached the skin and stood in front saying nothing but waiting.
‘Luv your fucking hood mate .It’s making me feel right horny. I’ve a boner and a half here and need a good blow job so quit the looking, get down in front of me mate.. I want to see you unzip me and get yer hand inside my sweaty crotch and pull me out. You’ll like what you see. I want you to take the full length.
Jake did as told and got down on his knees and put his hands up to unzip the bleachers. He opened the button so he could get his hand inside and pushed his hand down past the hairy balls. Shit it felt as if he had to put his hand all the way down the guys leg to pull it out.
‘Don’t yank at it mate it’s me fucking prick.’
As Jake pulled it out so he could see the large head glistening with precum. He lowered the bleachers more so he could also get the balls out, and they were well hung.
‘Glad you like the balls as well mate as you can pull them while you suck me off. Luv me balls being pulled. Now get some of yer spit onto me dick before you suck.’
Jake let a big gob of spit emerge through the slit in his hood. And putting one hand around the guys balls he took hold of the shaft with his other hand and moved it to his mouth. The Skin could see the cock head sliding past the rubber slit as it entered Jake’s mouth
‘I fucking love the hood mate. Luv seeing my dick going through the rubber.’
 At first Jake thought he might gag but all he wanted was to have the full shaft slide down the back of his throat. As he grasped the Skin’s bleachers so the Skin let his hands slide over the hood.
‘Fucking love your rubber mate makes me even hornier. Almost as good as a fuck. Love me hands on the rubber pushing my dick further and further into yer throat. Shit man you love cock the way you’re gobbling me. Now pull on me balls, yank them down let me feel some pain.’
Jake grabbed the balls even tighter and pulled hard.
‘Fucking hell that’s sore mate but feels fucking great. Now suck.’
As Jake pulled so the Skin holding Jakes rubber clad head pushed his head in and out towards his pubes. Jake’s mouth was so full of cock. This was real.
‘Shit man I’m gonna come so get ready to take all me spunk and swallow it so you feel me going all the way down into you. I luv yer fucking rubber.’
And with that the Skin exploded his cum into Jake’s throat, so much cum that it started to ooze out the rubber slit and down the  front.
‘Shit man what a fucking blow job, yeah man.’
Once he had come he pushed Jake’s head back and took his hand to wipe any left over cum off his dick before stuffing it back into his bleachers.
‘I need to see what you look like mate, you’re something else.’
As we went to put his hands on the hood Jake said
‘No man leave it as is you liked the hood so let’s leave it at that.’
‘Did you not hear me? I said I want to see what you look like. Do as I say or Ill fucking knock  you.’
The Skin leant over Jake who was by now terrified and slowly grabbing the base of the neck the Skin pulled the mask up and over Jakes head.
Jake could not move. The Skin stared hard at him.
‘You’re not a fucking skin. All that clothing is just a joke. That fucking mass nof hair. You’re fucking pretending. Nobody but a Skin has sex with me. I fucking hate someone like you who thinks he is  skin. It’s not just fucking clothes. It’s a way of life. You slimy little bastard.’
‘I’m sorry but I love skin clothing and I’ve seen you around and so wanted sex with you.’
‘I could fucking kill you trying it on with me and having me cum like this. Don’t think you are getting away with this so stand up, NOW.’
Jake was almost paralysed with fear and did as told. The Skin put Jake into a stranglehold, tightening his grip around the throat.
‘I’m sorry, I really am.’ Jake blurted out. ‘I just wanted to be like you.’
‘You don’t fucking piss with me mate. Fucking little bastard. I’ll teach you. I could fucking well strangle you now.’
Jake felt his breath was being squeezed out of him, was becoming more and more dizzy, the pain increasing as he tried to breathe. Suddenly it was too much and he passed out.
Little by little Jake could feel his eyesight returning. He was not dead. He was not standing and he could hardly move his head. He realized he was on his knees but his neck felt cold and it was as though his neck was in a brace. He had no idea where he was . It suddenly dawned on him that he was in a cage and his head was jammed into a hole in the cage but not just that as he brought his hands up to his neck he could feel a steel collar around his neck. As he managed to look in front him, unable to fully raise his head he saw a pair of bleachers in white laced Doc martens in front of him. The Skin was on a stool facing him.
‘Wondered when you’d fucking well come round. So how do you feel. You’re mine now and it’s up to me what to do with you. Only I can let you out. I see you pissed yerself when I choked you but at last it’s drying out. Anyway bleachers are best if they’ve got dried piss down them. Skins like their boots nice and shiy so you can start licking mine.’
The Skin put one of his boots up into Jake’s face.
‘Now let me see a few good gobs on them before you lick.’
Jake cleared his mouth and spat several times onto the boot.
‘Now let me see you fucking lick. Start with the sole until I tell you to do the caps.’
Jake could feel the dirt and mud from the boots come up into his mouth. He wanted to gag but knew he would be punished so he swallowed and got on while the Skin stared at him.
‘That’s right mate now get on with the cap.. Let me see your tongue go all over.. Stick your fucking tongue the whole way out so I can see.’
Jake extended his tongue and licked over the surface. Being in the cage and at the Skin’s total mercy, licking boots made his heart race and he could feel his cock inching down his bleachers.
‘Good boy, now lick me other boot but let me cover it with some of my spit so I can see you taking in all my gob.’
The Skin spat hard on the boots, thick slimy spit.
‘Bet you love me gob eh mate? That’s right really lick, let’s see whose spit is best.’
Jake wanted to swallow the Skin’s spit as though he was devouring the person and making him part of him. Jake let his tongue linger on the spit and slurped it on the toe.
‘Lovely stuff mate. You see you’re mine. So you thought you could get away being a skin with that fucking hair of yours did you. No Skin has any hair we shave every other day and make it nice a shiny. That way you know not to mess with us. We are hard men and that ain’t just our cocks. So you know what is coming next. That hair of yours is going and soon you can see it all piled up on the floor.’
The Skin got out a barber’s electric razor and started working it over Jakes head. Jake wanted to shout out to stop but he wanted his hair gone and the more hair that was shaved off the more aroused Jake became.
‘Bet you’ve got a fucking boner with all this mate. Once I’ve finished with the electric razor I need to take the hand razor to get it all off so will put some shaving foam over your head. It’s all coming off a fucking treat mate. Gone all that fuzz of yours.’
Once the skin had used the razor he took a wet towel and removed all the remaining foam off to reveal  a nice shiny bald head.
‘OK mate you keep the steel collar on but I’m letting you out the cage so you can stand up. No funny stuff about escaping cause I fucking punch the living daylights out of you.’
The gate was released and Jake crawled out slowly standing up to his full height in front of the Skin.
‘Now let me see you proper. He took his large hand and slapped it over Jake’s face a couple of times.
‘A few bruises makes you look the real stuff boy.’
‘Shit man you sure look a fucking good skin. You looked a right pussy boy before but now scalped you look fucking great. And what did I say?’
With that the Skin took his hand and grabbed hold of the outline of Jakes stiff cock straining at his bleachers.
‘I said you had a boner and not a bad one at that. I like me skins with big dicks and you pass the test. Turn round.
Jake did as told and then felt the skins hands moving across his arse.
‘Those bleachers of yours sure give your bum a nice tight shape. I love a solid arse and you know what your arse is for eh boy.’
‘Yes sir to be fucked,’
‘Too fucking right. What with that arse of yours and yer erect pole I fucking wanting to shag you and get my dick all the way up that arse of yours. So bend over the cage but first get that cock of your out and lemme see. Jake stuffed his hand down his trousers leg and pulled out his dick.
‘Let me get my hand around that boy. A good thick one you’ve got there. Might need to feel that up me at some stage but for now you are mine.’
Jake almost shivered as he felt his cock being squeezed by the skin and feeling his beery breath on his face.
‘So you’ve seen mine but have another look now before I get it up you.’
He pulled out his cock, and he was clearly feeling so horny it was almost vertical.
‘I’ll need to push this one down boy to get it up you as you’re making me feel right horny. So before you bend over bend down and let some of your spit on my dick. That way it’ll go up easier for you.’
Jake let two big gobs on to the thick shaft and bent over, the Skin unzipping the rear of the bleachers.
I always fuck a guy in gear. Naked ain’t the same. I like my guys in full skin.’
The Skin got down behind Jake and put his face up against Jake’s arse using his tongue to lick and with his hands he could spread Jake’s cheeks wide to let his tongue get up the first part.
‘Lovely soft arse you’ve got there. No taste of shit. Now get ready to take this. Spread your legs and you’ll find it easier to take my thick tool Jut that arse out as well.’
Jake was almost gagging to be fucked by the Skin. This is what he had wanted since the first day he saw the guy. As he stuck his arse out so he felt the skins head burst through the opening. For someone who was so aggressive in his way of life he was gently taking Jake knowing that his tool would hurt unless Jake was ready  receive it.
‘Like that boy?’
‘Its fucking great. A right monster you have there’
‘I like your use of the word “Fuck” boy as we skins use it all the time. Shows we mean business.’
‘Then fucking fuck me sir.’
‘Don’t worry once I get this up to the hilt in your arse don’t expect me to be gentle. Now that’s it in really push yourself up against me then you have all of me inside you. Shit man you’ve been fucked a few times before. That arse of yours has had a few cocks up them.’
‘Yeah but none like your cock.’
The Skin put his arms round Jakes thighs.
Now stand up so you can press your body against me.
As Jake stood up so the Ski put his arms around Jake holding him tight and then kissed his neck.
‘Shit man I want you and not just tonight. Seeing that neck of yours has decided me that tomorrow you’ll have a good tat put across the back. I wanna see “Skinhead” and in big letters and then on your shoulder you’ll have my name showing all the lads you belong to me. Now let me get my hand onto that cock of yours and we can both orgasm at the same time. You’d like that eh?’
 Jake gulped as the Skin rammed his cock in and out as he let his body go from tight against the Skin and moving it slightly out until the thick head was almost ready to pop out but he knew exactly when to stop and then force himself back against the Skin.
‘Fuck, wank me man let me cum in your hand. I wanna have your hand covered in my spunk. Go on fuck me man, fuck me hard’, Jake shouted.
‘Take my fucking dick, feel me deep inside you sliding that massive shaft of mine up and down that juicy arse of yours. I can feel that dick of yours pulsating ready to erupt.’
‘Just fuck me, cum all the way inside me and get the spunk all the way up me.’
‘You’re about to get it  I’m ready man. So you too man spunk away.’
‘I’m a fucking skin being fucked by a fucking great skin. Its fucking brill man that’s it fuck me unload that spunk now.’
And with one final push the Skin shot his load deep inside Jake’s arse and the Skins hand was covered with thick creamy spunk.
They sank back over the cage exhausted
‘That’s the fucking best shag I have ever had.’ Jake shouted.
‘You won’t get better than me.’
‘Here’s a towel, wipe yourself off and get that prick of yours back in your bleachers. I’ll zip up your rear. You’ll soon have a nice damp patch of my cum oozing out that crack of yours and everyone will know who done it. I’m taking you to the skin club to meet the lads but you keep that collar on for now. I want them all to know that you are mine and I ain’t sharing you out. They’ll all want a bit of that cock so get ready to be touched up but its only me that gets to use your arse.’
‘I don’t want anyone else. I am yours and only yours and I am a skin at last. No longer a dream thanks to you and the real thing. A skin and your skin.’
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angel-of-the-moons · 1 year
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Cycles
Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader
TW/Content Warnings: NSFW, Smut, PIV Sex, Heat/Rut Cycles, Territorial, bit of Feral!Miguel, improper use of webs, pheromones, hormones, predator/prey dynamic if you squint, Unprotected Sex, Biting, Scratching, Bondage(?), Breeding Kink (c'mon we all know Miguel has one), established relationship, boyfriend/girlfriend, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob
MINORS DNI: I am not responsible for the content that you are about to read/consume, if you are upset by the themes in this fic, do not read it and scroll on by!
A/N: For context, you are a Spider-Woman who is one of (maybe the only) the few Spiders who have similar powers to Miguel. This is my first Miguel x Reader fic I've ever written, and my first fic ever posted here on Tumblr! (Header does not indicate reader's race)
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Earth 7164. New York. Middle of summer.
The scent hit him the moment he tore through the portal. A heavy, sweet, earthy scent that flooded his whole body with a rush of adrenaline. Even the fat droplets of summer rain that fell from the dingy skyline did little to diminish that delicious, mouth watering scent.
Your scent.
His body was trembling as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the tension that roped its way through his heavy muscles. His talons flexed as he gritted his teeth, each drag of his lungs pulling your scent into his body.
Miguel O'Hara was a man who would claim he had a good sense of control over his urges. He would also say he was a good boyfriend, attentive. A bit protective (some would say possessive).
But, he had been neglecting you as of late, his duties in the Spider Society and ensuring the safety of the universe had kept him away from you these past few weeks, and he almost lost track until he felt that familiar boiling of his blood, an itch that he knew could only be scratched by you.
And he knew that you would be experiencing a similar situation to him, almost parallel. In fact, he surmised you were probably the only Spider who had similar powers. The only difference was that whereas Miguel's powers were (sort of) intentional, and other Spiders were given to them after being bitten by radioactive spiders... You were born like this. They didn't know why. Hell, you didn't know why.
You had the venom (you could consciously control how much you pumped out in every bite), you had your own talons (although yours were a part of your nails, not in the pads of his fingers and toes), the wall crawling abilities, natural web-shooting...
And your cycle. At first having you around was torture on his senses when it would roll around. It would start with your scent changing; the dampness he picked up from between your legs making the blood rush straight to his dick. More often than he'd like he'd have to excuse himself to his private lab to jerk himself off until he felt some of his clarity return.
But it was always just a temporary relief. It only got worse when your breeding cycle and his rut cycle synced up, resulting in the two of you needing to almost be sedated and kept away from each other. (How Lyla kept that under wraps, Miguel never knew.)
And once your dynamic shifted and you started seeing each other, and eventually getting intimate... well. He was positive that Jess or Peter suspected what was up... Especially when he would disappear to your universe for a week or so, only to come back in a slightly better mood, small dark patches peeking out from beneath the collar of his suit, or you would be walking funny or unable to sit comfortably.
Right now, though, those thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. The only thing he could think of was you. He could smell you, taste you in the air. This was your territory, and he... Could be considered an intruder, depending on your mood.
A male spider waltzing into a pissed off and horny female spider's web during breeding season.
Shaking his head, he took another deep drag of the air around him, the smell of the city mixing with your earthy, almost fruity tones. Your scent was faded slightly, but he could still use it to track you beneath the smog, garbage, and vehicle exhaust.
It's not like he didn't know where your apartment was... But he knew during this period of time you'd be restless, irritable, angry.
And mind-numbingly horny.
Miguel launched himself up, slinging his wrist out and using his glowing webs to propel himself in between the buildings and skyscrapers; leaping, flipping, arching through the sky in a red-and-blue blur.
He knew he was closing in on you. Your scent was all but strangling him, choking the air and what little sanity he was clinging to right out of him.
He should have known you were waiting.
Miguel was rammed into with the speed of a runaway train, the oxygen he so desperately needed ripped from his lungs as he tumbled with a roll onto the rooftop below, landing on all fours as his talons dug into the concrete and tar, leaving deep grooves as he slowed himself.
He lifted his gaze to see you land in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling.
"I have been waiting for you, for almost two weeks." You wheezed out.
"Hell of a way to greet me, querida." Miguel grunted, pulling himself to his feet.
Beneath your mask, he knew your eyes immediately dragged down to the hard bulge pressing against his suit, the hard outline of it sending a fresh throb of arousal straight to your core.
"The kick was a bit much." He said, trying to maintain a professional composure.
But his control was quickly slipping.
"Shut the fuck up."
The short rebuke didn't surprise him.
"Should have been here days ago." Miguel said, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. "I know that. But--"
You cut him off by lunging at him, hurling your full weight onto him and pinning him down beneath you.
The heat between your legs felt like it melted through his suit, burning the skin beneath and causing a fever to spread.
You raised your fist to bring it down on his face but his reflexes allow him to catch it, gripping you like a steel vice. His other hand gripped your thigh as he planted his feet on the rooftop, rolling to pin you beneath him, his massive frame caging you in.
He squeezed your hips between his thighs, muscles tensing and twitching, breathing heavy. Your free hand reached out and clawed at him, tearing at his suit, leaving a rainbow of glitched out fabric behind, small droplets of blood rushing forth to drip down his tanned skin.
He gritted his teeth at the sensation, the sweet burn sending another wave of heat through his body that made his cock twitch.
You were past talking, past negotiating and being civil. You knew what you wanted, and you wanted it now.
You breathed heavily, gritting your teeth as Miguel gripped your thigh and forced your knee by your head, squeezing the plushest part as his face dragged down to the dark patch soaking through the fabric of your suit.
Using this new position, you kicked at him square in his chest and threw him off of you.
Before he could right himself, you rolled to your feet and jumped off the roof, shooting a web to sling you away from him.
Sure, you were horny and wanted to ride his cock til he couldn't see straight for a month. But he had been gone for weeks and you had been struggling with your own self-care, your measley silicone toys and vibrators barely able to compare with that womb-punching length that Miguel crammed into you, or his skillful and knowledgeable hands rubbing you until your eyes rolled back. But right now, you were pissed.
He wanted your pussy? He was going to have to work for it.
And if that meant playing your cat and mouse game for an hour, building the anticipation and making his cock leak; aching, desperate for a taste of you? So be it.
You played this game for a while, teasing him, getting within arms reach before yanking yourself away at the last possible second, thwarting his attempts to catch you.
Sometimes you liked to play with your food.
But all games come to an end. And this one had an abrupt ending when Miguel headed you off, tackling you to the roof of some abandoned warehouse, pinning you down on your belly, hands above your head.
"Bout fucking time I caught you. Tu pequeño bromista.." (You little tease.) He snarled, leaning down to your ear as his mask dissipated from his head, letting his wavy chocolate hair fall free, damp strands plastering themselves to his forehead.
His eyes were wild, red and glowing; pupils blown wide.
"Fuck you." You hiss, squirming under him.
"Oh, sucederá en, no te preocupes." (Oh, don't worry, it will happen.)
Miguel raised his free hand and brought it down hard on your ass, making you bite your lip to contain the mewl that tried to claw its way out of your throat.
"Look at you, now, hermosa." He sneered, his chest huffing in a small, humorless laugh. "I can fucking smell you from a mile off."
He reached down and cupped your mound, his fingers squishing slightly in the damp fabric of your suit; but once again you deny him a moan, instead biting into your lip, fangs threatening to puncture your lip.
You squirm an arm free and go to elbow him in the face, get him off of you. (Or under you.)
But he predicted that. That's what always got you going when you were in the middle of your cycle. You liked it rough.
His large hand completely encircled your elbow and forced your arm back down. Quickly, he used his glowing, laser-webs to secure your wrists together before he gripped the fabric of your suit with his talons, shredding it as he yanked you over so you were on your back.
Miguel smiled and yanked your mask off of your head, tossing it to the side before gripping your chin with his fingers, putting enough pressure to keep your eyes on his.
"Now... What should I do with you?" He said contemplatively, tapping your cheek with his index finger, making a show of thinking, his eyes dragging over the flushed features on your face, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips.
"Ah. That's it." He grinned, his slightly askew teeth gleaming in the dark. He grips you by the front of your torn suit and pulls you to your knees as he stands.
He grips the crotch of his suit, and rips at it with his talons, the torn edges doing that kaleidoscopic glitch of colors as his cock springs free from its confines; large, twitching, angry red tip leaking in excitement.
You have to bite your tongue to keep in your little groan, your heart soaking through and dripping out through your suit.
"Hmh." He grunted, annoyed. "I'll loosen your fucking mouth. I've been keeping myself under control this whole time. But now? I'm not going to be gentle."
He gripped your hair, just shy of painful as he dragged your head to his crotch, the tip of his cock smearing his precum across your cheek.
"Chúpalo." (Suck it.)
You finally give in, your hands bound in your lap as you drag your tongue along a prominent vein in the velvety skin of his shaft, earning a deep, rumbling groan from him that you swore sent vibrations straight to your cunt, making you flutter around nothing.
You pull your head back and swirl your tongue around the tip, pulling and tugging as you lap at his slit, eagerly tasting every drop of pre he was giving you before diving in and taking the rest of his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.
He massaged your scalp, his talons tickling the skin under your hair as he encouraged you to continue.
But you knew his calm demeanor wasn't going to last. It wasn't long before he grabbed at your hair with both hands, forcing you to choke down on his length, just shy of blocking off your airway as he fucked your face, the tension and stress from your cat and mouse game coming out as his tip kept shoving at your throat, your nose brushing the dark curly hairs at the base, his balls slapping your chin with every thrust; saliva pooling around his length as you keep your fangs pulled back as you let him use your throat like a fleshlight.
You close your jaw microscopically, fangs grazing the flesh.
"Míralo!" (Watch it!) He reprimanded, pulling your hair roughly to pull you back, his cock springing out of your lips with a wet pop, saliva connecting the tip with the soft pink muscle in your mouth like a weak bridge.
"Be a good girl." He snarled, pulling you back down on his length, barely letting you catch your breath before forcing you all the way down, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you choked and gagged.
You knew exactly how to lick, suck, and tug at his cock to get the best reactions, the most delicious sounds from him.
You snuck a glance up at him, watching as he tipped his head back with a throaty groan as you greedily swallowed him down.
You moaned around him; his cock throbbed.
You felt him twitch, felt his hips sputter as he gritted his teeth.
"Fuckin' close." He snarled, looking down at you as your eyes connected with his feral ones.
You rocked your clothed cunt on your heel, trying desperately to get some friction to your aching clit. Miguel caught this motion, and held you down on his cock, choking you from not letting you ease off.
"You're not allowed to touch yourself." He said through gritted teeth, pulling your head back with a harsh tug, letting you get a gulp of air before voraciously fucking your mouth again. You obeyed his command, sitting in your slick that was dripping down and out of you, your folds puffy and neglected.
"Fuck..." He breathed heavily, he could feel that burn, that coil about to snap, his blood boiling and rushing straight to the tip of his dick as he felt his balls draw tight.
You moaned softly around him, gagging slightly before that rush of heat flooded your mouth as you worked your throat to swallow every last drop of the load he was feeding you.
Miguel panted, dragging some much needed air in his lungs as he let you pull back, hacking and coughing as your airways flooded with oxygen again. You grin maliciously and bite down on his thigh. No venom of course, but just enough to remind him you were there, earning you a sharp glare and a slap to the back of your head as you licked your lips.
He ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn't but a moment later before he yanked you to your feet, and shoved his tongue past your lips to overpower yours, tasting his cum lingering on your breath as his heavy rut-scent flooded your nose. You moaned shamelessly into the kiss, biting and tugging at each others lips until a burst of cooper flooded your mouth.
Miguel pulled away and licked at his bloody lip, before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He barreled into you, forcing you against a rooftop air-conditioning unit.
His hand reached down as he ripped at your suit, your breasts bouncing free.
Of course you weren't wearing a fucking bra. Probably no panties either. Because you were just that fucking horny and desperate.
He leaned down and took one of your pebbling nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly as you push your head back against the unit, the metal bumping as you do, a strangled cry coming from you.
He pulled back, before delving back down and putting the same torture on your other tit. This time however he pulled back, biting down on the marshmallowy flesh, making you mewl out as his tongue laves over the mark he made.
"Miguel!" You snarl, thrashing your leg to kick at him, your frustration and neglect finally getting to you.
Miguel caught your flailing lim and forced it up, pinning it against the air-conditioning unit with another shot of his webs, before securing your already bound hands with more, above your head.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his hot and heavy breath ghosting over your sweaty skin, before his hands once again swiped and gripped at your cunt, pawing at it like a cat kneading a blanket.
Miguel lazily dragged two fingers torturously slow up your slit, before punching your clit hard through the fabric.
"You've been misbehaving... But I know you're just going to keep acting out until I give you what you want." Miguel sneered into your ear.
You whimpered, arching into his touch as he pulled away, making a frustrated sob at the lack of contact.
You nearly had the air punched out of your lungs when Miguel dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy like it was a drug he needed a hit of. He opened his mouth and dragged his tongue up the soaked fabric, before latching on and sucking.
Now this was new. Getting eaten out through the fabric of your clothes. There was too much contact but somehow not enough as he rutted his nose at your clit, sucking more at your folds drawing more of your slick through the fabric.
You thrashed against his webs, trying so hard to roll your hips and fuck his face, but with the way you were pinned, you were at his mercy, especially when he hoisted your free leg over his shoulder. He pressed two fingers against your covered hole as he furiously suckled your clit.
Your orgasm crashed into you so hard you couldn't even manage a scream, your mouth just hung open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as a fresh gush of slick leaked through your suit.
Miguel smiled against you and tore your suit's crotch open, and you shivered as the humid, summer air made contact with your slick and creamy folds. You barely had a second to realize what was happening before Miguel plunged back in, his nose rutting your clit once more as I sucked at your cream, your slick covering his chin.
Miguel was the best sexual partner you ever had, he knew exactly how to eat you out to the point you lost your voice without even using it.
Just as your second orgasm was creeping up on you, he pulled his mouth away, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and licking his chops like a dog eyeing a juicy stake.
His cock bobbed against his stomach as he stood, a steady stream of precum dribbling out of the tip and to the ground below.
He pulled your free leg to wrap around his waist as he slid the underside of his cock against your puffy cunt.
Miguel bit down on your shoulder, hard as he forced himself into you with one brutal thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he punched your guts through your womb with his cock, spearing you wide as he set a rapid, relentless pace for the both of you.
You uttered breathless pleas, praises, and incoherent mumblings with each thrust; the two of you grunting and moaning in each others ears like rabid animals, Miguel's cock slamming home into your pussy, squelching, dripping, the slap of skin and hips colliding filling the very atoms around you.
Your body screamed, cried, ached for him to fuck you, fill you up to the brim.
Miguel's tip crammed against your cervix in such a brutal way that you swore he bullied himself into your womb with every thrust. It was a blossoming pain that bled into pleasure, quickly bringing you back to the edge of your second orgasm that he had denied you.
"That's it, baby." Miguel snarled in your ear. "Ah... So tight for me. You want me?"
You nodded, whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder.
"Want me to fuck you til you can't walk for a week? Stretch you til all you can think of is my cock?" He said, his voice edging on a gleeful tone as he pants, turning his head and licking at the sweat on your neck.
"Want me to fucking breed you?"
You bite into his shoulder at that, whimpering as his suit glitches around your fangs and you lick at the blood welling up.
He hissed, and his pace became frantic, almost angry as he reaches down and pinches your clit like before, and your orgasm comes flooding through every blood vessel in your body as you jerk mindlessly against him, your pussy crushing down on him, milking him for everything he can give you.
He moans loudly in your ear, snapping his hips up into yours, balls slapping your ass as you cry out, sobs wracking your chest as your vision blurs and the tension rips out of you.
You whimper, and hiccup against him when he forces himself into you one last time, his tip kissing that oh so lovely spot inside as he pumps his heavy and sticky load deep inside your pussy, dripping out of you with each jagged thrust as he fucks you through his orgasm.
When Miguel's hips still, his hand pets at your hair as he kisses your jaw, nipping the skin there as he slices the webs holding your legs and hands up.
"Mmmmh. I needed that." Miguel sighed into your hair.
You grunted in response, your fists gripping at his suit as you pull him down for a hungry and toothy kiss.
"Take me home and fuck me." You demanded.
All Miguel could do was smile, and carry you back to your apartment. The real trick was keeping his cock sheathed inside of you as he swung from building to building, trying to avoid anybody who may have a camera phone...
But honestly? You didn't care.
However...
The two of you did care, a few weeks later.
When two little pink lines appeared on the stick in your hand.
"Fuck."
618 notes · View notes
bowieandqueen11 · 11 months
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Moonlight Dalliance / Izzy Hands Imagine
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Request: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago but I think I might have accidentally deleted it off Tumblr because I can’t find it now! Hope you enjoy and I’ll have another request out asap! 😘
Warning: spicy, implied sexual content, sword fighting, mentions of blood and some strong language!
(I do not own OFMD or it’s characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Before you had even reached the deck, you could hear the clashing of steel reverberating through your bunk.
If it hadn't been for the pouring of sawdust through the cracks in the ceiling beams that rained down like ash over your nostrils: if it hadn't been for the graceful leaps of careful footsteps lightly stepping in box squares above your hammock, you might have chalked down the noise to Roach's snoring. In fact, as you swing your legs over to your side and try, as quietly as possible, to land on the floor of the recreation room without waking as many as your ship mates as possible, said cook was trying to do his best impression of what could only be called a foghorn mixed with an incredibly rusty blender.
'For God's sake-!' The sound of Lucius' voice disturbing you as you were trying to tip toe towards the door almost makes you jump out of your skin. Unravelling Black Pete's arm from around his waist, he gives a final groan into the side of his pillow before throwing it in a wide arch straight at Roach's head. 'If you don't stop snoring I'll stick my wooden thumb, splinters and all, straight up your ar-.'
Thankfully, the sound of you wincing as you grab onto the handle and inch the hinges slowly backwards is drowned out by a stout HMPH as Lucius' pillow lands on Button's stomach. You can't help but let out a snicker at the way the man shoots straight up from his slumber like a scarecrow being raised in a field. He arches one eyebrow and glanced around intently. 'Attack, we're under attack!' You take the opportunity of your fellow crewmates either lunging out of their hammocks, or being tipped out onto the floor during the frantic hustle and bustle that followed to escape out to the helm of the ship. In fact, Wee John seemed to take far too much pleasure out of twirling the Swede's hammock so that the man ended up a mess of tangled limbs, yelping like a fly caught up in a spider's web as Oluwande tried to grab his arm and pull him back out. You didn't mind the good natured jostle of your friends: you had spent so much of the evening tossing and turning, unable to get the thought of one arrogant prick in particular out of your mind, and so the excuse to leave your bunk and get some fresh air was more than welcome.
The sea air - god, the sea air felt so kind on your tired lungs.
The night seemed fragile, the moonlight tender as it spilt over the creaking boards of the ship and pooled in a warm puddle around your feet. It seemed to widen within your eyes, a fine mist spraying like a wicked phantasm from its shadows and coating the surrounding sea in thin tendrils of smoke. With a mind hazed with tiredness, you rubbed at the corners of your eyes and tried to chase away that dream-like glow only the late night could bring. The sails caught in the mild wind and groaned above you, masking out the sounds of Izzy's short pants as he wiped his forehead with the untucked end of his shirt. In fact, not realising yet that you were standing only a mere few metres away from him, he grabbed his shoulder and tugged his shirt off completely, discarding it with a frustrated throw at Stede's cabin doors.
Two hands grip tighter on the wood, willing its body to relax. The tang of salt could do nothing to burn away the fizzling want banging against your ribcage, nor could the cool pinch of the helm railings distract you from the fact that you had spent every second of that day restless; as if on repeat, every time you closed your eyes, or had your thoughts distracted away from repairing the helm, or talking to Lucius, or exploring the islands Stede had insisted you all stop at so he could take Edward off on some grand adventure, you were taken back to that afternoon. The feel of Izzy Hands, the soft ache in his eyes, so desolate, so hopeful: when he had been congratulating you on a job well done fighting off some remote Englishman who had tried to ambush your crew once you had docked, and behind the thrum of his beating heart he hadn't the wit to stop his arm from reaching out and brushing the back of his knuckles against the droplets of blood splattered on your cheek.
His smile had dropped almost immediately of course, and he had run like a gun was being unloaded against his heels back into his quarters and hid there for the night, but the look in his eyes when he had touched you... god, if it wasn't enough to make Davy Jones repent his sins, for even his adoration for Calypso would seem like hatred in comparison.
Yet only the smoky gleam of the moon melting over the champagne waves kept your aching head company. The moon, being a sneaky temptress, was in fact the one thing that drew you to the cause of your distraction; squinting down onto the deck, it took you a minute to remember the reason you had come up here in the first place.
Izzy Hands. In the flesh. And lots of it, if the sweaty gleam of his bare chest was anything to go by.
It takes a moment for your mind to shape the shifting umbra into a perceptible form: he looks angry, furious, even, as his sword slices the misty air like swiss cheese and gives lashes to the main mast. The cherry wood cracks easily under the weight of his blows, the poor shaved shards that land by his feet obviously taking the brunt of the walloping you can only assume is meant for your captain.
Swallowing your nerves, you call out to the fickle shape. 'What are you doing wandering about at a time like this?'
He startles as you wander across the ship towards him, perching back against the side of the mast he was currently tearing to shreds. Incredulously, he looks you up and down before bowing his sword. Your laughter sweetens the edge of his blade, and for a moment Izzy's step falters at the sound.
‘I could ask you the very same thing. Don't you know that all the horrifying creatures slink out from the depths after the full moon rises.' He tilts his head at you, pushing his tongue up against his teeth to stop a smile from breaking like welcome dawn across his face. 'Would hate to see you get dragged away by something... wanton.'
You scratch your cheek, trying your best to hide how you were growing flustered at his words. 'Well, at least if I get dragged away I'll be going with clothes on.’
He flushed at that, head tilting down as he crossed his arms gruffly over his abdomen and blinked languidly.
'What are you actually still doing awake?', you ask, crossing your arms and doing your best not to fantasize about leaping forward and ripping the rest of his trousers straight off with one tear.
'I couldn't sleep.' What he didn't tell you, was that he couldn't sleep because he was so in love with you his heart felt like it was going to bleed out of his fucking chest any time he tried to distract himself from thoughts of you.
'Yeah, neither could I.' What you didn't tell him, was that you couldn't sleep because you were dreaming of grabbing Izzy by that scruffy collar and kissing him silly.
A tense silence suffocated the two of you, sliced only by Izzy shooting his sword through the air with one last precise carve through the freshly hollowed mast. Izzy whips out his wrist, clenching his fingers into a tight fist to try and alleviate some of the burning tension running through his joints at the desperation to touch you.
‘You did well today. As much as I hate to admit it, you can fight better than any of those other morons.’
‘A compliment? From Izzy Hands? Pinch me, I must still be dream-‘
‘Your footwork is a little rusty, though. Could use some work, so you don’t trip over and fall on your own bloody sword.’
‘There we go. There’s always a but with you, isn’t there? You can’t just give the compliment and leave it hanging.’
'I'm just saying... it would be a real shame to pierce such a breast.' Your breath hitches as his eyes dip down to contemplate the sliver of skin still on show between the free flowing buttons of your dress shirt. He sniffles, fingers almost indiscernibly tightening around the metal of the hilt as he did his best to stifle the overflowing shiver that was running up and down his legs. He keeps a tight watch on you for a moment, before biting his bottom lip with his top teeth and darting his eyes out towards the ocean, both incredibly aroused and also incredibly sheepish from having shown such weakness.
'And to ruin such a fine blade.'
He runs his hand across his beard, motion tired yet calculated. Too jolted to speak, let alone run away back down to your bunk and hide your head underneath Oluwande's arm for the rest of time, you leave Izzy the perfect opportunity to pounce.
’Here… come here’, his knuckles fold as he beckons you forward with one hand, his other still resting on the hilt of his rapier as he jabbed it into the floor and let it drop after a moment. If he had let it go just then, as he watched the swish of your hips approach him, he had a pretty good feeling his knees would buckle underneath him. ‘I have far more experience than you do. You ought to learn from a real pirate. Not the hoity toity arsehole that runs around this ship like a headless chicken.’
‘If I remember correctly’, you say sharply with a growing smile, ‘you lost against that headless chicken.’
‘Don’t.’ Before you have time to realise what’s happening, Izzy has grabbed you by the waist and rugged you back. He prays you didn’t hear the hoarse groan that jilted from the back of his throat as your buttocks bounced back against the tensed muscles of his lower abdomen. His voice is gruff and warm against the shell of your ear, but his fingertips burn with the ferociousness of a thousand lantern fires as he snakes his free hand around your shoulders and grips onto the bottom of your chin.
'Don't tease me. It won't end well for you.' His thumb digs into your jaw as he tilts your head back, and you can feel his smirk branding it’s way into the bare strip of skin between the nape or your neck and the hollow of your earlobe. Your head is fully resting back against his forehead now, and his vice on you only lessens once he’s content that you’re too far gone to step away from him.
'Put your foot... here', he guides your right foot forward with the toe of his boot, almost sinfully slowly so he could feel every twitch and tense of your quadriceps against the inside of his thigh. 'There you go, lean your weight forward-'.
He tips you then, doubling you over so your back is pushed down against his groin. You swear you can feel the curls of his hair fall in loose curls down against the small of your back, gathering that his head must be hovering just above your tailbone. For your own sake, to stop your legs from turning into jelly and letting your full weight fall so easily into Izzy's grip, you pretend the haunting moaning sound you hear must be from the hinges of the sails as they turn through the night sky.
'Perfect form', he breathes out in a short gasp against the shell of your ear once he's collected himself, his arm tightening around your stomach as he places you. His right hand drags down your arm, teasingly burning a trail right down over the back of your hand and onto your fingers as he entraps them with his own. He turns your hand, his own clenching so they fold over your own. 'That's it, now jut forward and strike.'
His knee pushes against the side of your buttocks as he jumps the two of you forward; he shoves a little too harshly, though, and just before your feet nearly trip backwards over the rotund exterior of a rogue barrel, Izzy's hand has shot out like a viper to latch its teeth around your wrist. His fingers squeeze as he tilts you upright again, a sharp exhale whistling out of his nose at how close you come to falling into his chest.
'You're not a bad teacher', you manage to laugh out between gasps, 'but unless you're packing... who doesn't bring a weapon to a sword fight?' Straddling to the side, you manage to slide down and grab onto his discarded sword, sweeping the tip through the air until it landed just below his chin. Tilting the skin up, you gaze down at him through dropped eyelids, his fingers now nearly convulsing against your wrist.
You manage to break free of his hold, grabbing onto his bare arm and pulling him so now he was the one caught in your trap. Your bicep holds around his stomach, moving with each tremble of his breath as you graze the sharp edge of his rapier down across his face and jut it under his jaw.
The bastard only smiles as you hold the edge of his blade against his throat.
'Did you really think you could win this fight?', he asks between the tight lips of a knowing smile, and it takes you a second to realise that his free hand has wrapped round to hold onto yours on top of the handle. He shoves the blade away, kicking out with his foot so you trip backwards. He easily catches you before you hit the ground.
You dance your fingers up his chest as he holds you tight against him, dipped down like lovers do during the first dance. All the stars burn deep within the depths of his soul, pouring out like razing destruction from his eyes as he keeps darting a path between your nose, and back down to your lips.
'I don't think you won this either, Izzy Hands. In fact, I think we both lost something here.' You spread your fingers out over the bare skin across his pec, feeling the flittering thud of his heart pound out against your fingertips.
By god, if he had ever been so delighted to lose.
His lips ravish you like a man shrivelled under the island sun, desperate to drown; before your gasp can fully deflate from your lungs, your legs have been kicked out from underneath you by a swift and skilled kick from the side of his boot.
Oh, he had been planning this for a long time. Had been thinking of nothing but this since he had boarded this vessel. The tightness of his arm as it snakes around your back and stops your shoulders from taking the brunt of the bounce off the boards: the way he throws his rapier behind his back without a second care, instead replacing his clenched fingers with the reddened meat of your hip as he levers you down was far too precise and meticulous to be a mere spur of the moment, subconscious thought.
An uncomfortable heat shivers over your torso and settles as an anchor weight in the pit of your stomach as Izzy grazes his right hand over the top of your thigh. Plop. Plop. Plop. His leather gloves ball as he taps his finger one by one, teasingly, against your inner thigh, using them to shove your legs wider apart. His lips pull away with a sickeningly sweet pop from your neck only for a second, as he breathlessly glances his eyes in a jagged path across your face.
He looks wonderstruck.
You can't help but reach out to touch the tough muscle of his left peck, swirling your finger across the short strands of his chest hair. The soft scrape of your fingernail soon turns into your fingers fully spreading out like the tendrils of a swift current once you feel him bury his head into the curve of your neck; his chin juts into your pulse point and the bastard has the audacity to whimper at the feel of your palm brushing over the hardened tip of his nipple.
If he wasn't living out all of his deepest, darkest dreams, the man nearly collapsed on top of you may have felt embarrassed at the way his pelvis began to buck down and brush the tightening leather over the rising line of skin underneath your belly button. In your turn to be bashful, you can feel a flush crawl over your cheeks as Izzy grabs onto the bottom of your thigh and tugs you closer, fist clenching over your ankle as he throws your right leg up and over the side of his hip bone. His hands are surprisingly soft, surprisingly gentle as he claws and kneads and mewls into you, his lips dragging down and over to the side of your jaw now with quick, tempered nicks.
You're scared his skin is going to melt off at the bone with how it burns against your hip: it holds tightly to the side of your pelvis, his thumb toying with the tassels hanging from the band of your trousers as he impetuously grinds down against you again. You can feel his shit eating smirk as the flat edge of his tongue licks a hot streak up to the shell of your ear; he bites down, tugging at your earlobe and clenching his fingernails so tightly into the soft skin at the side of your buttocks that you were amazed he didn't draw blood.
‘What on earth was that noise?! What’s going on up here! Which hooligan is up making a ruckus on my ship? And so late! I know you wanted another bedtime story, but I told you, we all need our beauty sleep!’
The glim flicker of a handheld candle illuminated out from the stairway as the ruffled hair of your captain peered out past the door like a startled meerkat. With wide eyes, he mustered the courage to lift up the skirts of his nightshirt and take a step out onto the deck, away from the safety of Ed's gentle snores as they billowed out through the crack.
Before your captain can spot the two of you caught in such an awkward position: Izzy grinding against you like a needy dog, your hand bunched into a tight fist in his hair and your legs wrapped tightly around his taut waist, he shoves a gloved finger to your lips. Annoyed at being disturbed, you tilt the hand gripping his hair backwards and smirk to yourself as Izzy dips his head down to land between your breast bone to try and hide his groans.
Before you can tease him anymore, he's gripped onto your wrist and is tugging you up; he's near carrying you bridle style in his arms as he slips past the railings of the ship, mingling in with the shadows. His hand covers your mouth to stop your giggles, carrying you off down to the bunk of his room so the two of you can carry on your midnight dalliance where your poor, confused captain wouldn't be able to hear the pounding of the bed as its frame shudders against the wall and your screams echo out against the silent moonlight.
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whisk3ysugar · 1 year
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Okay, so I was holding off on posting this because it's wrecking my nerves. And it's driving me insane at the same time. I'm a perfectionist so that's cute. (No it's not.) But here's my first series/chapter/prologue/thing... <3
Prologue Summary: An Alchemax lab worker was successful on her own. Normal. Same routine every day. No straying from the usual path. Not until her own fear became apart of her. Not until she met him. The liberator. Protector. The leader. Miguel O’Hara.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Violence (Soon), Mentions of Blood, No NSFW (Yet?), Terrible grammar errors (Probably), First post.
A/N: Like I stated before, this is my first writing piece on Tumblr. I also haven’t written in general for a WHILE.. So pls excuse the cute little imperfections <3 (I hope I can write chapters for this soon too!!!)
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What exactly made you deserve landing in such a foreign.. and dangerous.. overall mysterious place?
It’s not like you remembered what even happened.
All you could remember now, was waking up on the cold floor below you. Head aching. What? Something was leaking from your head. Warm liquid made its way down your forehead as you tried to piece together your fuzzy thoughts. Where were you? Back at home? Surely this wasn’t your apartment in Brooklyn. But you couldn’t figure it out. Especially when you were fighting the feeling of unconsciousness. You had to piece together what was happening before you might inevitably black out.
…Recall the events. Remember.
You were at home. Long day of work put you in a vulnerable state. Alchemax scientists weren’t the easiest to work with especially when all you seemed to do was mess up. In their eyes. You had been designing a new function for the machine your boss had scrapped. It was a perfect base for your new project. But you’re getting off track. Finished up work. Left your keyboard in your lab coat pocket so you had to return. Enter the office room. Silence. Dark. Go in, grab the card, get out. Easy. Except it wasn’t.
You went in quickly. Taking your usual route to your cubicle helped you arrive faster. You grabbed your card. You made it home? Wait. No, that’s not right. Why couldn’t you remember? Why was your brain so damn hazy right now??
Backtrack. You went into the office and grabbed your keycard. Then you locked up the room. Habit. You went down the hall and.. And?
That’s right.
You went through the shortcut.
The incredibly dangerous shortcut that your boss happened to mention a couple HUNDRED times not to take. But it was just a door and a lab.. No big deal. It was such a huge space anyways. There was a big machine in the middle. Branded with your company’s logo. You took a look at it. It was huge. Just a few more steps closer and you were able to see every intricate detail. The only detail you missed was a white spider making its way up the web it must’ve spent hours threading and making.
You could make out every wire in the machine. But you couldn’t make out the spider crawling up your sleeve. That is.. until it sunk its fangs into you.
A loud shriek echoed through the lab walls as you failed your hand around in the air. It stung. And it didn’t help your already raging fear of spiders. You flung the light colored spider off and rubbed the harsh bite mark before making your way the hell out of that lab.
♡♥︎
After closing up the rest of the office, you made your way out of the facility and into the noisy streets.
Except.. it wasn’t noisy.
What? At this time of day, the streets were booming with noise.. Well, normally they were. So you excused the fact that it was quiet and made your way back to your apartment.
The moment you opened your door you got hit with a wave of drowsiness. How? You kept asking yourself these questions but you couldn’t even answer them. And within the next 10 seconds.. you couldn’t seem to comprehend what was happening.
It started with a loud ringing which contrasted the quiet you were experiencing a few moments before. Then came the nausea. Lastly.. your graceful fall straight to the floor.
That was it.
That’s all you remembered.
So how did you get here? On this rough concrete floor.. Head throbbing. Body shaking. Unable to remember any moments after your fall.
Well as if the world was just listening to your thoughts.. everything was answered with a flick of your wrist and a terrible thrust forward.
Web.
No. No, no, no, no.. NO. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was just in those comics you spent too much time reading. Only in the action movies. It was all fake. Couldn’t be real. No.. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. Would explain the headache you were enduring currently. But..
How could you possibly explain the blinding lights and colors of such an ethereal realm? How could you explain all those different costumes.. all with that same stupid emblem you saw on TV when the news reporters tried to degrade the so-called heroes that protected your city. How could you even begin to try to process those specific dark colors that seemed to contrast all others.. It was a blur. Messy shades that put together a stranger right in front of you. None of your thoughts or questions could be answered.
Not when your head was throbbing and you could barely think.
Not when you were summoned to a new land.. Or rather, a new world?
Not when beast in the form of man had made its way toward you.. and all you could do was stare.
Not when your life had stopped and you were being pulled into your new one.
Not when you were met with the devil himself.
Miguel O’Hara.
♡♥︎
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whencyclopedia · 2 months
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Thomas Wolsey
Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York (l. c. 1473-1530 CE) served as Lord Chancellor to Henry VIII of England (r. 1509-1547 CE) from around 1513 CE to 1529 CE. Wolsey rose to become the most powerful man in England after the king, he created the Chancery court, worked with some success at England's foreign policy, and famously built Hampton Court Palace near London. Unable to secure from the Pope the annulment of Henry's first marriage to Catherine of Aragon (1485-1536 CE), Wolsey fell out of favour with his friend and monarch. Accused of treason, the cardinal was already seriously ill when he died on his way to imprisonment and trial in November 1530 CE.
Early Life & Rise in the Church
Thomas Wolsey was born c. 1473 CE in Ipswich, the son of a butcher. He studied at university and became the chaplain to Henry VII of England (r. 1485-1509 CE), gaining invaluable experience of Tudor politics from his sponsor, the councillor Bishop Richard Fox (1448-1528 CE). However, it was under Henry VIII that Wolsey's career really took off. Indeed, after being appointed the royal almoner (giver of alms) in 1509 CE and benefitting from the new king surrounding himself with his own advisors rather than his father's, Wolsey enjoyed a meteoric rise to power from 1514 CE. He became the bishop of Lincoln in March 1514 CE and just a few months later, in September, he was appointed archbishop of York and so became the second most powerful church official in England.
Eager to be the top man in England but realising the current Archbishop of Canterbury was secure in his position, Wolsey bypassed him by directly approaching the Pope. In 1515 CE Wolsey became a cardinal and so he now outranked even the archbishop; he was truly a 'prince of the Church.' In 1518 CE Wolsey went one step higher and became a papal legate (legatus a latere), that is a representative of the Pope himself and entitled to make decisions on his behalf. Usually, legates were given their authority for a limited time only and for a specific purpose such as an international conference. In 1524 CE, Cardinal Wolsey was given legate powers for life. Thomas could now really believe that one day, he might even be in a position to grab the very top job of Pope.
Even before these momentous ecclesiastical progressions, and much more importantly for history, Wolsey had become Lord Chancellor around 1513 CE (or perhaps 1515 CE, historians do not agree on the date). In this position, he was, in effect, Henry VIII's sole minister, the very apex of the pyramid of political power in England. Thanks to his administrative skills and good friendship with the king, Wolsey became a giant political spider with a web of subordinates that stretched into every part of the kingdom.
As the historian S. Brigden summarises, Wolsey developed a very special working relationship with his mercurial monarch:
The Council was still consulted, but only after Wolsey and the king, in a kind of partnership, had determined policy. Wolsey would first 'move' Henry towards some idea; the King 'dreamed of it more and more'; and only then would the council be informed. Wolsey's influence seemed supreme, and his household, in its magnificence, looked a rival to the royal court. So completely did he see himself as alter rex, it was alleged, that he would say: 'The King and I would ye should do thus: the King and I do give you our hearty thanks.' His pride and splendour were legendary: crosses, pillars and poleaxes, hated symbols of his authority, were carried before him; earls and lords served him. (106)
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beybladeninja · 8 months
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I honestly didn’t know that it was Ninjago’s 13th birthday, but I’m going to use it as an excuse to post this anyway!
(Click for better quality.)
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Ta-dah! Happy birthday, Ninjago! I can’t wait to see what your newest generation has in store!
(Wordless image and info under the cut.)
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- What I’ve learned from Ninjago is that the ninja may pride themselves on their dragon-riding abilities, but only Lloyd’s elemental symbol actually represents one. I chose a spider for Sora to represent her control over many pieces of technology, kind of like a spider and its web. And I chose a cool-looking brush in an attempt to make it appear “digital”.
- Arin created Object Spinjitzu, but Spinjitzu isn’t an Elemental Power in and of itself. Misako proved as such when she was able to perform Spinjitzu earlier in the series, despite not being an Elemental Master. To that end, I just did a simple design for his Object Spinjitzu.
- Wyldfyre was raised by a dragon, so of course her symbol should represent one. I tried not to lean into Kai’s or Lloyd’s symbol too much.
- Geo’s symbol was tricky, as I couldn’t think of an animal that could accurately portray fusion. I ended up using the ouroboros symbol, because it kind of looks like a snake fusing with its own tail.
- I just used the symbol on Morro’s uniform for Euphrasia. I know it’s technically Lloyd’s symbol, because Morro viewed himself as the Green Ninja, but I figured I should at least give a nod to the previous Master of Wind.
- The wording around the page, if it isn’t clear, is: “My dear children, I call you from the shadows and bestow these gifts so that you may remain steadfast in this ever-changing world.” I wanted to do it with a slightly different effect, but god dang, I ran out of layers!
- I don’t know, I just admire this interesting and a little sad concept of children being plucked from obscurity in order to protect what they believe in.
- I read a head canon on Tumblr that Wyldfyre had sunspots, which I think makes sense because of her constant time in the outdoors for most of her life.
- I think that because of Geo’s Munce genes, he would be the tallest out of the group. That’s all, really.
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plitaka · 1 year
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Okay so because I’m gay and mentally ill I have decided to take it upon myself to go through Kafka’s demo frame by frame and overanalyze the shit out of anything I find interesting
It’s insanely packed with blink or you’ll miss it details so buckle up folks- this is gonna be a ride
Right off the bat she starts off with the same coin she also ends the demo with. This isn’t something that’s been part of her character so far nor do I think it has any real significance, so she just brought it to be extra and torment the poor souls she’s planning to slaughter anyway. Annoying dramatic bitch
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Also just to get this out of the way now, this is indeed the Belobog museum, or at least its assets. The floor of some of the inner rooms, the staircases, the chandelier and the big golden clock thingy are the same, and in one of the shots you can clearly see the portraits of the former supreme guardians which is. Makes you wonder if they just picked the museum for grand dramatic interior or if she actually had reasons to have business there.
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This. This fucking part is probably no longer than 5 seconds and yet, even with the video on 0.25 speed I had to constantly rewind and pause to catch everything and it still probably isn’t 100% accurate. Also I had to cut out a lot things because Tumblr only allows 30 images per post but like, you get the picture
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“What do you see” over and over again as images of Rorschach tests flash across the screen so fast you barely have a chance *to* see. Personally I mainly see spider like things and butterflies. Among them are images are some flashes of the robo guards, which to me give the feeling of them getting caught in her web, losing themselves and their control to her mind games and technique.
Something else worth nothing is that this sequence is kickstarted by her throwing the coin and ends with it still in her hand, just thought that was an interesting choice
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Before moving on to the next point, however, I want to point out the obvious irony of her telling the guards “don’t be afraid”. Truly words to hear from the woman who is incapable of feeling fear. And what is the name of the demo? Dramatic irony. We’ll get back to that.
Anyway, after that we see the camera pan away from her and over the guards as she uses spirit whisper. The camera movement is accompanied by a single rose petal that starts from Kafka and flies over the guards, which kinda feels like the visual representation of spirit whisper, a gentle rose petal innocently brushing across them as if carried by an invisible breeze
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I wanted to make a joke about how her bounty is as large as her strap but seeing as I’m restricted in the number of images I can put I’ll just state the obvious and say she has the largest known bounty of the Stellaron hunters. I’m going to guess the only one higher than hers is Elio’s.
can’t be 100% sure this is what’s going on here, but the imagery makes it look like she’s taking a nice calming stroll and playing Vivaldi in her head while letting the guards slaughter each other, either by controlling them with her strings or with spirit whisper
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Dozens of hands reaching out for her, trying to grab her as she’s cocooned in a vulnerable state, pupils visible. I’m sure we’ll eventually get an ingame explanation as to what’s actually going on with her eyes, but for now I do think this is a VERY interesting time to show them. She’s in a compromising position, she’s cornered and vulnerable, but she’s confident and cocky and always, always in control. To anyone else this would be horrifying, but she can’t feel fear, why should she care. Like genuinely this is terrifying imagery that in media is more often than not used to showcase or symbolize sexual violence of sorts and personally makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to get too much into it here I think it needs its own separate post, so for now I’ll keep it short and say that up until now, her pupils have only been shown in situations where she’s at a physical disadvantage (held prisoner at the divination commission, whatever this is etc)
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Something a bit lighter to focus on is what she’s saying; “the silk is too fragile to be a treat… unless you’re more fragile than the silk.” Symbolism aside she always seems to refer to silk when talking about fragile things, which we know are, in her opinion, the most beautiful. I really don’t think she’s referring to herself here seeing as the next scene demonstrates she’s far from fragile, so I think she does mean it in a much more literal way and is talking about a spider web; too fragile to capture humans, strong enough to capture its intended prey, this being weaker bugs. All in all she’s probably insulting them by comparing them to bugs weaker than a fragile silk web.
Nothing much to say about the fight scene other than that it’s incredibly choreographed and confirms that Kafka is strong enough to roundhouse kick a guy in the head (god I wish that were me) and do backflips in midair while firing her guns. Also the elevator counting down the survivors as their forces dwindle is fucking rad.
“Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?” In the context of the scene this reads to me as her mockingly lamenting the guards’ fate as she beautifully takes them down one by one, but it’s also one hell of a peculiar sentence from someone working for a guy who supposedly sees destiny and directs his followers according to that. She’s a nihilist, everything is predetermined in her eyes, she’s one of destiny’s slaves, but destiny also has thousands of faces? Is she really so nihilistic that even her own worldviews are contrasting in her eyes? As I’m writing this it makes me think of dadaism more than anything else. To quote from wikipedia: “an early 20th-century international movement in art, literature, music, and film, repudiating and mocking artistic and social conventions and emphasizing the illogical and absurd.” Kafka herself in an artist in many ways; she’s an actress first and foremost, always dramatic and theatrical, following a script to a T. But she’s also a musician, everything about her steeped in classical music and references. Anyway, dada is an absurdist nihilistic movement, and you know which real life author known for his absurdism lived and wrote parallel to the Dada? Franz Kafka.
Genuinely Idk where I was going with this I just thought it was worth sharing, MOVING ON-
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Neat way of visualizing what I’m assuming is supposed to be her spirit whisper. Also I’m extremely stingy with images (thanks Tumblr), but if you slow down the video around 1:17 you could see that the shot of her katana very quickly flashes into another spider, just wanted to mention that.
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These are all narrative screenplay terms that flash by in like a millisecond each after the big ult (that, btw, has a similar shot saying ‘intermission’ right before she casts it but it flashes by so fast and with such bright colors that I couldn’t take a proper screenshot of it) and shown on the Belobog Museum’s projector. The most interesting one here imo is Oneiric Structure; “a cinematic story using dream like visuals, exploring the structure of dreams, memories, and human consciousness”, very fitting considering how much of her abilitieseing how dramatic irony is yet another narrative device.
All these movie terms and framings, however, feel to me more like a wink to Kafka’s roots than anything else. This is the third time she’s been tied to movies somehow (the web event, one of her leaked messages that actually mentions how she’d hate for her life to be turned into a movie), and this is one time too many for me to stop denying that the inspiration for her character was at least in part Makima from Chainsaw Man. I won’t elaborate too much not to spoil the 3 people unfamiliar with csm, but this whole thing feels like a homage, a love letter to Fujimoto’s own love letter for cinema.
Also she *is* an actress following a script, so there’s that as well.
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The demo ends with her taunting the one remaining guard with the very same coin from the beginning, flipping it in her palm and asking the guard to guess the ending with heads or tails, prefacing it by saying “sooner or later, the curtain has to fall”. To me this indicates that she sees life as kind of a one gigantic play, with no fear and no value for human life everything is a performance to her, it doesn’t matter beyond what’s happening on the stage in the presence. But also the way this is all framed makes it very easy to assume she’s actually talking about the end of the guard’s life, and asking him how he thinks this encounter between them will end, lol.
Another thing about the coin that Meadows mentioned “her flipping the coin over and over is both like, play with fate, a distraction (like, think in movies, you see someone flipping a coin your eyes are drawn to it and not the sleight of hand happening elsewhere), and ofc her clear obsession with vintage shit”
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This has been it from me for now, too dead to properly edit through this rn so I’ll probably go back and add some details once I’m feeling better. Would also love for anyone to chime in with their own conclusions since this is just one person’s interpretation. Especially if you have more knowledge than me about classical music and have ideas regarding the use of Vivaldi’s winter
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brandstifter-sys · 4 months
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Webs We Weave
@dukexietyweek 2024 Day 6 - Rockstars + Stuffed Animals
Word Count: 3016 (Ao3)
Rating: T
Characters: Virgil, Remus, Patton, Remy, Andy, Dragon Witch (Millie)
Pairings: Dukexiety, Remdy (Shorts Sleepxiety)
Warnings: ftm!remus, hitch hiking, anxiety, mild threats, sex mention
Remus is an avid fan of Webs We Weave, and his internet crush just so happened to give him to tickets to every show on their latest tour. Naturally, this disaster fanboy is going to make it to all those shows without questioning his friend's connections, even if he has to hitchhike to get there! But hitchhiking can have unexpected consequences!
---
Remus was not just an average fanboy. He was obsessed with his favorite band, their music and seeing them perform. Every show was amazing and he craved the rush of the crowd. So what if he was following the band on tour by any means necessary? He wasn't stalking them, just chasing the sound and the thrill. 
His own brother couldn't stop him when he got tickets to every show, not even asking how he afforded them. They were gifts from a friend from Tumblr, and crush if he were being honest. And they were legit! He swore he would bend over any way xxelectric-spider-rainxx wanted him to!
After three nights of musical ecstasy, Remus was perched in a big rig truck, headed for the next city on his list. The driver, a bespectacled man with a heart of gold, was kind enough to offer him a meal on the drive. 
“So, kiddo, you said you were going to meet your friend and go to a concert, what group is worth the risk?” the driver, Patton asked, keeping his eyes on the road. 
“Have you heard of Webs We Weave?” Remus asked and took a sip of his slushie. He could go on about them if he wanted, from Millie Drake's fire vocals, to Remy Traum’s bass riffs. But he didn't have to. 
“Have I ever!” Patton laughed, “My son is in that band!” 
“He is?!” Remus gawked. He wasn't digging into their personal lives, but he knew a lot about their back stories, except for Virgil Hawthorne. That beefcake drummer was so mysterious.
“Yuppers!” Patton giggled, “I can't tell you how proud I am of him for making it so far with his friends! He would spend all his free time playing those drums until my ex got a headache!”
“You’re Virgil's dad?” Remus gasped. Now that he thought about it, Patton had a similar smile and build to the drummer, only he was a little bigger in the middle. He could believe it. 
“That’s my boy! He's such a sweet kid, sent me a backstage pass good for every show on this tour! I feel bad I won't be able to make any of them, but he knows how much I support him!” Patton said with a sly grin, “If you want it, it's in the glovebox, right next to his old bunny.” 
“Really?” Remus gasped and set his drink in the cupholder before he made a mess. He opened the glovebox and saw the pass and an old black bunny toy that was well loved, obviously stitched together with white floss. Its eyes were white X's and its left ear was missing fuzz on the tip. 
“Yeah! I'd hate for it to go to waste, and I think he'd like you,” Patton responded, “And if you do take it, can you give him Mr. Fuzzy? He loves that bunny!” 
“You trust me not to keep it?” Remus gawked. 
“Yeah, you don't seem like the crazed type of fan who would. Plus you need to have faith in people.” 
“That’s really idealistic,” Remus said and carefully tucked the pass and bunny into his bag, “But you don't have to worry, I'll get it to him. It's the least I can do for the ride and food!” 
“Thanks Remus,” Patton said and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, “Mind if I put on some dad tunes?” 
“Classic rock?” Remus grinned, “Only if you let me sing along!” 
Patton beamed and turned on the radio. He was happy he decided to pick up this hitchhiker, and happier that he might've found Virgil's newest friend. 
---
“Ugh, you have to stop pacing, Virge!” a young man with shaggy brunette hair groaned from where he lounged on the couch. 
“I can't help it!” Virgil, a large man with even shaggier black and purple hair, snapped. He was chewing his thumbnail and walking the length of the dressing room. The other two band members were getting coffee, leaving the two most anxious messes to wait. 
“You'll run out of energy before we go on. Isn't there something else you can do?” Andy groaned and adjusted his jeans. 
“I left Mr. Fuzzy with my dad and running a lap around the building will drain me faster. What else can I do, Andy?” 
“I don't know—why are you freaking out?” Andy huffed and crossed his arms, hugging his chest for some security. 
“I haven't heard anything from them in days, and their blog is all queued. What if they hate me? What if they're in trouble? What if they're just busy or too excited to go online? What if they show up at this show? I won't be able to recognize them. What if they're a creep? What if I put us all in danger?” Virgil rambled. Andy rolled his eyes. 
“You gave them a ticket to every show. They're bound to show up at some point.” 
“My dad got tickets to every show and he's never shown up,” Virgil argued and ran a hand through his hair. 
“You didn't notice, did you?”
“Notice what?” 
“There's been one person at all of the shows so far in the front row. Your Tumblr buddy is probably taking advantage of those tickets.” 
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I've been shirtless on stage every time!” Virgil yelped and lunged at Andy, grabbing him by the shoulders, eyes bugging out of his skull. 
“Dude. We only had three shows, all in the same area. I'm not jumping to conclusions yet,” Andy yelped. Virgil was too strong for his own good. 
Virgil immediately let go of him and shrank back. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn't calm down. He flopped on the couch and groaned. 
“Why do you care so much? Especially about the shirt thing? You don't know what they look like or their pronouns,” Andy huffed, “Don't tell me—you have a crush.” 
Virgil curled into himself and grumbled. He couldn't stop himself from feeling. He was freaking out over a crush like some teenager and he was making a mess of his band. 
It was so stupid. He only knew their username, krakendickenpuss, and that they could handle his bluntness and his rants. They actually liked talking to him about monsters, movies, and music. They were the first person in a long time he could connect with, without his mild game getting in the way. They were lewd and flirty but they never crossed any lines, and they were just so adorable! 
“Oh god, you do,” Andy gasped and got up. He needed some water and a snack and the vending machine was outside. 
“I'll grab a gatorade for you,” Andy said and opened the door. 
“Hi!” 
Andy yelped and jumped back. He was not expecting a little man to be at the door with his fist raised, especially not one he swore he saw at the last couple of shows. Virgil jumped to his feet and got between Andy and the intruder, ready to fight. 
“Oh! Perfect!” the man cheered, “Millie and Remy said you were here!” 
“Who are you and how did you get back here?” Virgil snarled, ready to fight. A good scuffle might have been just the thing he needed to calm his nerves. 
“I'm Remus,” the man said with a shiver. Virgil assumed it was just evidence this guy was intimidated. Remus was enthralled—what could be hotter than a big strong guy getting protective of his friends? A big strong shirtless guy getting protective of his friends! 
“Virge—” Andy muttered, his heart still racing.
“I can handle this,” Virgil said curtly and nudged him towards the couch before his knees gave out. 
“I was looking for you since Venomousse got off the stage! I need to give you something! I promise it's not dangerous!” Remus beamed. He was damn cute, and Virgil hated that. 
“How did you get backstage?” Virgil pressed and loomed over him menacingly. They didn't sell backstage passes, not even for the press. 
“I have a pass!” Remus chirped and held up his lanyard with the pass. 
“Where did you get that?” Virgil snapped and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting poor, aroused Remus off the ground. 
“Your dad gave it to me! He's a really nice guy! He gave me a ride and I didn't even have to offer any suckies!” Remus said without an inkling of fear. He would have killed to get socked in the jaw by his favorite drummer! He would kill for this man to do so much more than that!
“What?!” 
“I know! He's a good guy! He asked me to give you something!” Remus said, “So can you put me down? You're stretching my binder.” 
“If you hurt him, I swear I'll—” 
“Call him. He should be fine,” Remus cut him off, “My binder won't be if you keep holding me like this. I don't have another one with me! Unless you want to see these lumps—all you have to do is say so!” 
Virgil immediately dragged him into the dressing room and dropped him on the couch by Andy. Remus landed with a thud and scrambled to get his gym bag off his back. 
Andy watched him dig through his bag when Virgil called his dad. He was pacing again and biting his thumb. 
“Heya kiddo!” Andy could hear Patton greeting his son, “Sorry I couldn't make it tonight! I just crossed into the next state!” 
“Dad, are you okay?” Virgil gasped. 
“I'm not in Oklahoma!” Patton giggled, “But I'm alright. Are you okay? You sound stressed.” 
“Did you pick up a hitchhiker?” Virgil asked and bit his lip. He didn't even notice Remus pulling something out of his bag. 
“I did, but don't worry, I dropped him off and I'm safe. Actually, he was headed to your concert, so I sent him with something to give you since you probably need it,” Patton said brightly, “His name is Remus, he's short and stocky, has a little mustache. I think he was wearing green shorts and a black tank top.” 
“What did you give him?” Virgil demanded, getting even more tense by the second. 
“This!” Remus butted in loudly and held up the stuffed bunny for Virgil to see. 
Virgil’s jaw dropped. There was no way this Remus guy was holding Mr. Fuzzy. 
“Oh it sounds like you found him!” Patton said over the phone. It was hard to miss Remus' voice! 
“I gotta go, Kiddo, break a leg tonight!” Patton said after a beat of silence. 
“Thanks, Dad,” Virgil choked out and hung up the phone. Virgil hung up and stowed his phone almost robotically. 
He stared at Remus for a long moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Andy was uncomfortable with the silence, but Remus seemed to be at ease. 
The tension snapped when Virgil snatched the toy from Remus and held it to his chest.
“Tell anyone about this and you're dead,” Virgil growled and rubbed the bunny’s ear between his fingers. 
“About what? How you're taller and beefier than the photos let on? That you got aggressive enough to make me cream my pants?” Remus jeered and wiggled his shoulders, “Because only one other person will know what happened when I met you! And they won't believe me anyway!” 
“He's having a really anxious moment,” Andy cut in, “He really isn't aggressive. Whoever you plan on telling, mention that part.” 
“Who are you telling?” Virgil asked warily as he finally started calming down. 
“A friend on Tumblr. They gave me the tickets so I want to tell them all about it when I don't have to watch my phone battery!” Remus beamed. 
Virgil's face blanched. 
“Your friend gave you tickets, plural?” Andy asked with a smirk, “So we'll see you at other shows?” 
“Hell yeah! I'll be at every show! I can't believe they could give me so many tickets!” Remus beamed, “So don't get any ideas about calling me a stalker!” 
“Oh god, you plan on hitchhiking to all of them?” Andy gawked and got up. He still needed a snack, and he had to find Remy and Millie. 
“Yup! But I'm a tough puppy! I can handle anyone!” Remus beamed. Virgil stared at him like he was insane. 
“Geez,” Andy sighed, “I'm hitting the vending machine. Do you want anything?” 
“Gatorade or iced tea if they have it,” Remus said and dug into his bag. He could pay for his own drink! 
“It's on me,” Andy cut him off and headed for the door. Once Andy was gone, Virgil’s anxiety started creeping over him again. Virgil was going to kill Andy. 
“So, uh, your friend on Tumblr gave you tickets?” Virgil muttered, not daring to look at Remus. 
“Yeah!! Electric Spider Rain has some crazy connections! When I finally get to meet them I'm totally smooching their breath away! I would've done that even without the tickets,” Remus giggled. 
“Krakendickenpuss?” Virgil asked, praying that he didn't just threaten his crush. 
Remus squealed and pounced, intending to hug him on the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around the drummer and rubbed his cheek on Virgil's shoulder. 
“I can't believe it's really you!” Remus squealed, “Who would've thought that the person I've been talking to online is actually the sickest drummer in the world!” 
“I can't believe you decided to hitchhike around to get to every show without telling me,” Virgil scoffed incredulously. 
“You would have tried to stop me!” Remus giggled, “And then I would have never gotten to meet you!” 
Virgil set Remus on his feet, only for Remus to hug his waist and nuzzle his chest. Virgil was beet red but gingerly hugged back with one arm. Mr. Fuzzy didn't need to be crushed any further.
“You know I can't let you hitchhike to get to the rest of the shows without worrying,” Virgil said softly. 
“But I don't want to miss the rest of the shows! You guys are my favorite band and you gave me all those tickets!” Remus whined, “And I want to spend time with you in person!” 
“Then join us on the bus,” a woman said as she entered the room. She had a knowing smirk on her ruby lips and long dark hair. She had two guys trailing her, a twink in sunglasses and Andy. 
“Millie, you can't be serious,” Virgil huffed, “What if we get in trouble for kidnapping or worse?” 
“My brother knows I'm hitchhiking so you don't have to worry about that!” Remus pipped up, refusing to let go of Virgil. 
“I'm serious, we talked about it. I would rather have some mild trouble with the law than him getting hurt,” Millie shrugged, “You would've suggested it too.” 
Virgil couldn't blush any harder. Not only was Milie suggesting bringing Remus along, but she and Remy could see Mr. Fuzzy in his arm. There was no way out of this. 
“As long as he doesn't knock you up, it's fine,” Remy added and sipped on his iced coffee. 
“So it's fine,” Virgil muttered, “Since that's impossible.” 
“It's not impossible the other way around!” Remus jeered, “But I'll behave! Even if you're shirtless and sweaty!” To make things worse, he rubbed his face against Virgil's chest. 
“Since that's settled, introductions?” Millie hummed and sat down. Andy dragged Remy away from the dressing room, probably to tell him to keep his mouth shut about the stuffed animal. 
“I'm Remus! Remus Reyes Cuesta!” the little imp beamed and finally let go of Virgil, “And his internet friend!” 
Millie narrowed her eyes at him and studied his face. 
“Is your brother Roman?” 
“Yup! How did you know?” 
“Do you remember Millicent Wieczorek?” she hummed. Remus' face lit up. 
“No way! Is that you? You kicked his ass in middle school! He totally deserved it, so I'm not mad! I was so sad when you had to move away! What are the odds we meet again here?” 
“Yeah, he can ride with us. He's safe. Just like Mr. Fuzzy,” Millie said to Virgil. 
“Uh,” Virgil hesitated. Millie shrugged and grinned at him. 
“I still sleep with Barfolomew the cat dragon. I'm not judging you. Remy might, but his boytoy is grilling him. Actually I should make sure they aren't making out in a closet. You two have fun.” 
With that she got up and left Remus and Virgil alone. Virgil was absolutely mortified. 
“Sit! Sit!” Remus chirped and patted the seat next to him. Virgil reluctantly sat down and let Remus lean on him. 
“Thanks for the tickets and the ride. And for showing me your dark side! It's hot!” 
“Sorry about that, I was out of line,” Virgil wilted and hugged Mr. Fuzzy. Remus pouted and scooted closer. 
“It's okay, Virgil. I'm not hurt, just turned on. Who knew my celebrity crush would be my Internet crush, and who knew he was feral and a sweetheart?” 
“Crush?” 
“Yup! I won't deny it!” Remus giggled, “But don't think that means I'm coming on to you. I can behave! Even if I'm jealous of that bunny!” 
“Why would you be jealous of a toy?” Virgil huffed. He was practically squeezing the life out of it. 
“Because you love it, and more importantly, you're hugging it to those bara tiddies!” Remus jeered. He was pleasantly surprised when Virgil wrapped an arm around him. 
“I-I like you too,” he said shyly, “But let's not rush into anything.” 
“I can work with that!” Remus beamed, “I'm gonna go back out to the pit, and I'll come back here after your set.” 
“You can leave the bag, no one will steal anything,” Virgil said and loosened his hold on his bunny. 
“Really? Thanks Virgil! You're the best!” Remus beamed and kissed his cheek. 
He bopped to his feet and giggled at how Virgil's blush traveled to his shoulders. He waved cheekily and skipped out of the dressing room, letting Virgil follow him with his eyes. 
Virgil touched his cheek where Remus kissed him and smiled like an idiot. 
That night he performed better than ever before. 
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tobacconist · 2 months
Text
BEHOLD i foresee now this being the end of the tumblr ebegging economy. i mean how much money can there actually be between us really? not a lot, im sure! HAHAHAHAHA and now that the librul left has fully lost the support of all the most serious feminsts (terf wars) and also literally almost every jew, and what with the relentless infighting amongst the queers... well. i predict the next schism will be something about black people. or maybe the disabled. and then its over. one must(nt) laugh.
the good news is that the trumpish right is embarassing itself just as hard, so dont worry. but we are genuinely so sorry johanne, this is all our fault, we did this to you but its gone too far now and we cant undo it. like, you ARE to blame at this point and youll never come back from this, but were sorry. thats all we can say. and you wont even realise until, well, anyway. beware.
mixed-race mentally-ill transvestite queers will acquire a reputation in europe and america as a new kind of ,,gypsy,, in the most prejorative sense of the word, and will band together for their own survival.
the king of england will convert to islam, for entirely selfish political reasons
nicki minaj will be implicated in a high-profile murder, either as a witness or a suspect
and the imperial family of japan will intermarry with the north korean kim dynasty, and rule a sino-pacific empire
but ofcourse, none of that is true.
we know that the rat is a hateful creature, which devours whatever it can, and spreads ruin wherever it treads. and you can smell him, and see his dirty footprints. grandma says he hates the smell of mint, but she has been mistaken before.
and the forms of smoke are fleeting, and the spiders web is fragile.
but im not happy about any of this btw, at all, and neither is the LORD our God.
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thesalemwitchtries · 11 months
Text
Daredevil WIP Snippet
Alright, so I've written a few fics in the past, and only ever posted one, but I've been working on a Daredevil idea for a little bit, and I've never posted anything here, but I want to just go for it. Like, it's fun, also who cares, yk?
I mean objectively the idea is fairly self-indulgent to my interests lately, but that's also why I like it so much. There's a technopath reader character, who will be given a name and conditionally uses they/them pronouns. There will be some awkwardness from her as she was raised in isolation, and also occasional themes of depersonalization due to her powers, I'll tag all of that to be safe.
Hopefully I'll do it, I'm gonna post this snippet just to like, create something to hold myself accountable with later.
But also that means I'll have to actually figure out how to use tumblr... huh. Mostly idk how to format text at all.
Snippet below, feedback encouraged and appreciated <3
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Charlotte called it Syncing: taking an imaginary leash off of her consciousness and allowing it to float away, dissolving from physical sensation, from her emotion and identity, she became it, more than Charlotte and less than human. 
There was no real feeling to it at all. She was, then it was, and together they were, no pause or breath between states, but Syncing seemed like the closest anyone could come to knowing what death felt like. The body stayed behind, just enough electricity to keep the meat fresh and responsive, cardio-vascular systems operating at a typical resting capacity. 
The soul though, transformed, ascended into Cyberspace and stretched itself wide and far, the way they were meant to be. 
World Wide Web was a shockingly apt name to come from people who couldn’t see this dimension the way that they could. Beams of light flashed the binary patterns of ones and zeros, altogether making up the vastness of human existence as it could be known so far.
Governments, banks, every old lady posting photos of their grandchildren on Facebook, it all was there, tangled together through pathways like wires, data connections forming junctions in a large spider's web. 
For the most part, Charlie experienced the Cyberspace as a place beyond both tangibility and sense, there wasn’t anything to see or hear unless they traveled to a connection that represented a camera or microphone in the Real world. Instead they operated through feeling, a superior knowing that they had always had within the Cyberspace. 
In the Real, it took Charlie years to learn code, here they wove it together like Arachne, no doubt or struggle, chains of code and subroutines molded exactly as they wished. They were the sole inhabitant and queen of an entire universe, this dimension of information, where they could create and do without limit. 
It was here, a place of life beyond breath, that they had found it. 
Charlotte had wanted a copy of some schematics, so she Synced and they began to search through data connections of the inventor, routing the plans away to her own meticulously guarded network to study back in the Real. Just as they were about to De-sync, they found it— a data connection that felt wrong. 
Hastily tied and weak, like it didn’t belong and was ready to disappear without a trace at a moment’s notice. 
Wires, strands, and connections often reflected the way that they were created outside of the Cyberspace, viruses and bugs had a particular way that they were knotted and attached to the main web, and this wire was a classic Shadow. Shadows were fairly common, almost every system had a few things locked further away from the Main Web than usual. They required caution though, as many belonged to the Law, and others to people operating Illegally.
Creating a subroutine to follow the strand of information to its other possible connections, they found it was something illegal, leading to various husks and shells— empty connections that were meant to fool anyone searching. That would work for others, accessing the Cyberspace from the Real, but they couldn’t be fooled, not here. 
More subroutines spun from their fingers, traveling down the strands and across numerous connections, dipping through security feeds and into microphones. They found empty offices, an upscale apartment, warehouses with people all in rows, a group of women screaming by the docks. 
While they couldn’t feel or sense while Synced, the part of them that was her identified what was as close to a sinking sensation as could exist outside of the Real. This was bad, evil, rotten. This Shadow was just one fragile part of a larger section of the Web, one that twisted and decayed, spreading flesh-viruses across the Real. 
Charlotte had to stay hidden, couldn’t let others notice that she was here, that they could do so much. Still, they could do so much, they could help, and so they must help. They refused to be like others that they had known, who looked at her with pity and remorse and yet never helped.
They would do something, just a little at first, and then keep an eye on things. 
Searching through the Shadow they dissolved the extra subroutines, coming across the perfect piece of bait. One file, loosely tethered but linked to all of the wrongness built here. They made a copy, innocuous, and tacked it to an email from one of the flesh-viruses to an account that was unconnected to all the wrongness. The date and time were modified, all traces of their tampering erased, and they De-synced, returning to the weary body.
The next morning, Karen Page checked her email, and opened the attached file labeled ‘Pension_Master’.
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askagamedev · 1 year
Note
Follow up to your answers about investors. How does the chain of command work between studios, publishers, and investors? Can investors overrule the decisions that the publishers make for the studios or vice versa? Publishers fund the studios development but investors own stock in the studios so how does it all work out? Who has the highest say?
Generally, the direct investors have the highest say in what the company does. An investor is a legally-recognized thing that can own something or parts of something. An investor can be a person like you or me that owns shares in some company, or it can be a company that owns shares in some other company. If the investor is a company, it has its own set of investors that make decisions for it. Thus, it depends on who owns who in this situation - every company is bound to its own investors, but those investors may also have their own investors that they must answer to. Ownership can be a spider web of complexity, with both various individuals and companies owning bits and pieces of multiple other companies. It can even be circular, with two companies owning shares in each other.
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Here's an example - Game Freak is a privately held game studio, owned by a small number of investors/shareholders. Game Freak is required by law to do whatever these investors collectively choose because of ownership rules. If their publisher (Nintendo) asks Game Freak to support the National Pokedex and Game Freak's investors collectively decide to refuse, then the investors' wishes take precedence - Game Freak must refuse to support the National Pokedex. If Nintendo owned a controlling stake in Game Freak, then the publisher and the investor would be the same. In such a situation, Game Freak could not and would not choose to refuse the publisher request because it would also be an investor request.
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Refusing publisher requests, however, usually results in breaching the contract between publisher and dev studio which invokes the penalties written into the contract (usually involves paying back the funding that the publisher provided and more for the time wasted and any other associated damages). If Game Freak were to refuse Nintendo at the investors' behest, Game Freak's value would likely fall because they would have broken their contract and had to have paid back all that money. If Game Freak lacked the funding to continue operating (e.g. paying its workers), it could go out of business.
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Decisions are made by humans who are fallible. The investors must live with the consequences of their decision. Sometimes the tradeoff is worthwhile to the investors. Most of the time it is not, especially if the company is publicly traded. The vast majority of public investors just want their investment to grow in value, which is why most publicly traded companies choose to optimize for stock price growth.
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darkfeanix · 8 months
Text
On Repeat Playlist Tag Game
Rules: Shuffle your repeat playlist 10 times and tag 10 people. Tagged by @defira85. 😊
Playlist is called Forward to Twenty-Twenty-Four, it's songs that I vibe with for the new year and I plan to add to it as the year goes on. For the time being, it's only got 23 songs, so you'll be learning near-half the songs in it.
Tagging @rederiswrites, @kevin-sedai, @reignssquad, and... um... anyone else who sees this and wants to? No pressure.
I've been lowkey obsessed with this song since last year. I think I first heard this band right here on Tumblr, but I stumbled across this song in particular on YouTube and was instantly hooked. I haven't really listened to any of their other songs, because this one sets such a high bar to pass for me.
Listen, Sam Riegel and Alanna Ubach just sound fantastic, and the song really pulls at my heartstrings. I just wish it had a few more verses. Really meets the definition of short and sweet.
I really enjoyed the live action remake of The Little Mermaid, and also I was really attracted to Jonah Hauer-King as Prince Eric. And I love his voice. I just love the mixed tones of desperation and determination that permeate this song.
Heard in the Spider-Man: Miles Morales video game and it just really grabbed my attention and didn't let go. Not my typical genre, but I just really enjoy the vibe and the tone.
Sometimes you hear a song playing on the supermarket radio and desperately type in the lyrics you can half-remember when you get home so you can listen to it over and over again. This was one of those songs for me.
Have you seen the D&D web series "1 For All" on YouTube? It's delightful, and this song is a great summary of the antics that the three "heroes" get up to (spoiler: they're a party of three murderhobos and I love them all).
I specifically sought out this song years and years after its release, after reading about what led to its creation, and since that first listen it's appeared on multiple repeat playlists. The righteous anger and refusal to capitulate to public pressures really speaks to me.
Listen, Vanessa Amorosi is my childhood. My family would play her album The Power so often during car rides that for the longest time I could remember most of the lyrics without the songs even playing. This song in particular is from an album of hers that I bought with my own money as a teenager, so it'll always have a special place in my heart (though it's not my favourite song from that album).
I've seen approximately one and a half episodes of BeastStars, but Jonah Scott appeared on Drawfee once and then I found out he was bisexual so I followed him on Twitter and here we are. Sometimes it's just that simple.
Fitting that the last of the ten songs from my Forward to Twenty-Twenty-Four playlist is "This Is the New Year", which, surprisingly, was not the first song I picked for the playlist. I first learned about it because Glee covered it, but in more recent years I've come to enjoy their music as a whole. Also one of the lead singers is gay, and the involvement of a man who's into dudes is usually reason enough for me to check something out.
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educatedinyellow · 2 years
Video
youtube
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 221B Baker Towers Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, minor Irene Adler/Freya Norton Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson (Jan Hamid), Mycroft Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Irene Adler, Freya Norton Additional Tags: Romance, Character Study, Mentions of racism xenophobia and transphobia, mentions of healthcare workers' experience in Covid pandemic (not graphic), war conditions and injury (not graphic), foul language/cursing Summary:
The spider at the center of this web is not the one you're expecting.
STORY LINK HERE: SPIDER STORIES (Holmes/Watson, 12K, rated T)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Holmestice contribution this year, a gift for my lovely friend starfishstar, was a combination fanvid and fic, both of which tell the same story in their own ways (if you click the story link, you’ll see the vid at the top and then the story starts right underneath). This is set in the entirely fan-created modern Holmesian storyverse called 221B Baker Towers. The tumblr for that adaptation explains more fully its origins and brings together its fandom creations in one place. But in short, the main premise behind this adaptation is: a Holmes and Watson are men of color in Britain, without wealth or influence, who are facing a ‘Moriarty’ who is no individual criminal mastermind, but rather the larger system of structural inequality and injustice.
This was my first attempt at vidding almost entirely with public domain stock footage, which I drew from pexels.com. I was very pleasantly surprised by the amazing variety of footage they have in there if you search hard enough :) And I also drew inspiration from starfishstar’s own lovely fic in this ‘verse, Do You Observe?
Special thanks to @thetimemoves for letting me bounce ideas off her and being there every time, encouraging and commiserating as needed, as we both pushed ourselves to get our ideas down on paper this round <3333
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beantothemax · 11 months
Note
Chapter Three:
The two arrive, slightly tenser, in a small town in the northern part of the Goldlands
It’s called Millheart, it is positively FULL of windmills, and it’s surrounded by large hills
A few caves rim the town, just because it’s getting a little close to the Stonelands
Some asking around the town is required to find out about what the seer was talking about
It seems that the general consensus is that there’s something amiss in the cave north of town, so it’s safe to say that that’s where The Thing might be
However, the townsfolk are all being like. Real cagey about it. Hard to say why
Eventually the two reach the cave in question, which by all accounts looks like a perfectly ordinary cave
However, as they approach, a villager in armour stops them, saying that they can’t go in and that “they’re not going to lose any more people to that thing”
Praem insists that they are going to enter that cave whether this guy likes it or not
Blades are drawn, and there’s a mandatory Challenge section (because I had to incorporate one somehow and there’s no way I’ll be able to fit one in chapters 4 or 5, trust me)
The two clean the guy up a bit and put him in a safe place but then swiftly move on into…
The Third Dungeon: Infested Cavern
Hey just heads up this is gonna be tagged with bug and spider content warnings in the post form but if you are tumblr user beantothemax reading this from your askbox. Be warned. There are a lot of creepy-crawlies ahead.
Anyway it is extremely obvious what the boss is going to be as soon as you enter the dungeon
Cobwebs are EVERYWHERE and they are BIG
A few sections of it are fully just spider webs suspended over open chasms that you have to painstakingly walk over
The enemies? You guessed it: spiders.
I don’t think there’ll be any puzzle-type sections in this one, though
So it’s mostly just exploration through this creepy cavern
Eventually Praem comes to a large cavity in the cave, at the centre of which lies a bigass spider web
Like this is clearly the head honcho right here
Troublingly enough, however, the wall BEHIND the spider web has some carving on it that’s difficult to make out with the web in the way
Praem and Ekaterina get to work clearing the web
Ekaterina needs to borrow a sword for this because she’s a fencer, so Praem ends up using the dagger that the seer gave her
LOTS of thoughts in her brain about that one
Her ability has never steered her wrong before
In fact, it’s been incredibly accurate about most everything
There’s no way to escape the fact that it’s right
She has seen what’s going to happen
She can’t escape it and
These thoughts are so rudely interrupted by (no points for guessing what comes next) a vision! Just a quick one this time like what happens during battle tho
There’s something overhead. She needs to push Ekaterina out of the way because it’s about to get both of them
She quickly sheaths the dagger and dives into her ally, getting both of them out of the way to look up and see…
The Third Boss: The Great Web-Spinner
This one’s just a real big spider
I think it’s a bit of a shame that the warriors truly get a non-human boss to fight (Olberic fights the Lizardman Chief, yes, but also fights Erhardt in the same chapter), so I’m being the change I wish to see in this world
Enters the fray with one Arachnid Lieutenant, which in turn is able to hold its own decently well, but the main event is the big ‘un
The main gimmick of the fight is effects that progress as time goes on
As its first action, the GWS always uses an attack that lowers the party’s speed
The next party member to take a hit from an attack will be afflicted with some kind of custom debuff
The custom status gradually reduces attack and speed by small increments, and when it reaches a certain turn count (5-10), the afflicted member will lose mobility altogether
It can be removed, but only if no other debuffs/afflictions are present on the ally
So if the speed debuff is still there, you can’t get rid of it, but if you run down the clock on that, you can
Other than that, the Great Web-Spinner is gonna try and poison the party members one at a time, and the Arachnid Lieutenant is going to try and inflict blindness
This boss is mostly here because Praem’s final boss was originally going to be a giant spider and I wanted that idea to live on somehow, so here we are
The fight closes, and the two are able to resume work on clearly the web
Before they start, Ekaterina cuts off the spider’s head and stashes it in her bag, saying that they’ll be able to show the townsfolk to let them know that the cave is a little safer now
Cut to a montage of the two getting rid of the webs
Eventually, the full thing is uncovered, revealing a few things
One: an enormous crevasse, splitting in a Y shape
Two, a waterfall surrounded by stalagmites, with something just visible behind it
Three, a stone efface in a similar shape to the thing behind the waterfall, marked with a symbol of an eye
The same symbol of an eye as the dagger
And that’s the same waterfall as the…
Cut back to Praem’s vision for the second time (forgot to mention but it cuts back to the vision when she gets the dagger) as a flashback, this time to the footsteps on wet stone, and the waterfall
She’s going there
They are going there
She is leading Ekaterina to the place where she will kill her
Praem is again somehow able to maintain her composure but she is shaken by this in her internal monologue
Ekaterina seems to ignore this, and points out where this place might be
It features very prominently on the game’s world map, and is located in the northeastern part of the Stonelands
The two leave the cave, are able to present the spider head to the townsfolk, and then it’s time to head for the cave where it will happen.
the entire web spinner fight sounded SO cool,,,,,,,, i am in fact not immune to large bugs
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also i know we're in the certified Scary Zone for this chapter but the term 'arachnid lieutenant' is very funny to me. i'm just imagining a spider with a lil army general hat with a bunch of spider badges of honor on its spider vest. sorry what was that about a waterfall i got distracted
the fact that we know what's gonna happen in that waterfall cave and with that dagger since the first chapter with praem's visions and everything slowly building up to it is. GAH. its got me extremely intrigued and also scared... we know what's gonna happen but i feel like that's not gonna make it hurt any less. iris have i mentioned how good of a storyteller you are
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selfdiagnosedeyemotif · 11 months
Text
Chapter Three (Praem):
The two arrive, slightly tenser, in a small town in the northern part of the Goldlands
It’s called Millheart, it is positively FULL of windmills, and it’s surrounded by large hills
A few caves rim the town, just because it’s getting a little close to the Stonelands
Some asking around the town is required to find out about what the seer was talking about
It seems that the general consensus is that there’s something amiss in the cave north of town, so it’s safe to say that that’s where The Thing might be
However, the townsfolk are all being like. Real cagey about it. Hard to say why
Eventually the two reach the cave in question, which by all accounts looks like a perfectly ordinary cave
However, as they approach, a villager in armour stops them, saying that they can’t go in and that “they’re not going to lose any more people to that thing”
Praem insists that they are going to enter that cave whether this guy likes it or not
Blades are drawn, and there’s a mandatory Challenge section (because I had to incorporate one somehow and there’s no way I’ll be able to fit one in chapters 4 or 5, trust me)
The two clean the guy up a bit and put him in a safe place but then swiftly move on into…
The Third Dungeon: Infested Cavern
Hey just heads up this is gonna be tagged with bug and spider content warnings in the post form but if you are tumblr user beantothemax reading this from your askbox. Be warned. There are a lot of creepy-crawlies ahead.
Anyway it is extremely obvious what the boss is going to be as soon as you enter the dungeon
Cobwebs are EVERYWHERE and they are BIG
A few sections of it are fully just spider webs suspended over open chasms that you have to painstakingly walk over
The enemies? You guessed it: spiders.
I don’t think there’ll be any puzzle-type sections in this one, though
So it’s mostly just exploration through this creepy cavern
Eventually Praem comes to a large cavity in the cave, at the centre of which lies a bigass spider web
Like this is clearly the head honcho right here
Troublingly enough, however, the wall BEHIND the spider web has some carving on it that’s difficult to make out with the web in the way
Praem and Ekaterina get to work clearing the web
Ekaterina needs to borrow a sword for this because she’s a fencer, so Praem ends up using the dagger that the seer gave her
LOTS of thoughts in her brain about that one
Her ability has never steered her wrong before
In fact, it’s been incredibly accurate about most everything
There’s no way to escape the fact that it’s right
She has seen what’s going to happen
She can’t escape it and
These thoughts are so rudely interrupted by (no points for guessing what comes next) a vision! Just a quick one this time like what happens during battle tho
There’s something overhead. She needs to push Ekaterina out of the way because it’s about to get both of them
She quickly sheaths the dagger and dives into her ally, getting both of them out of the way to look up and see…
The Third Boss: The Great Web-Spinner
This one’s just a real big spider
I think it’s a bit of a shame that the warriors truly get a non-human boss to fight (Olberic fights the Lizardman Chief, yes, but also fights Erhardt in the same chapter), so I’m being the change I wish to see in this world
Enters the fray with one Arachnid Lieutenant, which in turn is able to hold its own decently well, but the main event is the big ‘un
The main gimmick of the fight is effects that progress as time goes on
As its first action, the GWS always uses an attack that lowers the party’s speed
The next party member to take a hit from an attack will be afflicted with some kind of custom debuff
The custom status gradually reduces attack and speed by small increments, and when it reaches a certain turn count (5-10), the afflicted member will lose mobility altogether
It can be removed, but only if no other debuffs/afflictions are present on the ally
So if the speed debuff is still there, you can’t get rid of it, but if you run down the clock on that, you can
Other than that, the Great Web-Spinner is gonna try and poison the party members one at a time, and the Arachnid Lieutenant is going to try and inflict blindness
This boss is mostly here because Praem’s final boss was originally going to be a giant spider and I wanted that idea to live on somehow, so here we are
The fight closes, and the two are able to resume work on clearly the web
Before they start, Ekaterina cuts off the spider’s head and stashes it in her bag, saying that they’ll be able to show the townsfolk to let them know that the cave is a little safer now
Cut to a montage of the two getting rid of the webs
Eventually, the full thing is uncovered, revealing a few things
One: an enormous crevasse, splitting in a Y shape
Two, a waterfall surrounded by stalagmites, with something just visible behind it
Three, a stone efface in a similar shape to the thing behind the waterfall, marked with a symbol of an eye
The same symbol of an eye as the dagger
And that’s the same waterfall as the…
Cut back to Praem’s vision for the second time (forgot to mention but it cuts back to the vision when she gets the dagger) as a flashback, this time to the footsteps on wet stone, and the waterfall
She’s going there
They are going there
She is leading Ekaterina to the place where she will kill her
Praem is again somehow able to maintain her composure but she is shaken by this in her internal monologue
Ekaterina seems to ignore this, and points out where this place might be
It features very prominently on the game’s world map, and is located in the northeastern part of the Stonelands
The two leave the cave, are able to present the spider head to the townsfolk, and then it’s time to head for the cave where it will happen.
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kitchfit · 10 months
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Year in Review: Books Pt 1
Tumblr deleted the entire first draft of this, which is cool and awesome. It was too long anyways. These aren't meant to be full on analytic reviews, just blurbs about my experience with the books and what I thought about them. I might move into more in depth stuff later on next year.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
He was pride. She was prejudice. Can I make it anymore obvious?
I started this on CD audiobook for the first half before driving my car off of a cliff. I was fine, but Elizabeth Bennet was a casualty of the accident, so I found the rest of the book on Libby with a different reader who had Very different vibes. It kind of fit how I felt about the book. Jane Austen is very good at regaling the audience from Elizabeth's point of view about how Darcy is the shittiest man alive, while turning at the halfway point to reveal he is actually the Only Good Victorian Man to exist.
I've seen this tale play out in both BBC and Keira Knightley formats, which are both fantastic in their own right, but I was significantly more invested in the characters this time around, especially the supporting cast. Elizabeth/Darcy romance was very cute, Jane and Bingley was adorable, Elizabeth's shitty cousin was hilarious. I like the glimpses of how she thinks about the rest of her family that you don't get in the movie. She hates how her dad views her mother as entertainment, she hates how her mother treats her children like products to be sold, she hates how her younger sisters make them all look silly. Damn she's really hateful, huh? Almost like she's preju-OHHHHHHHH.
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
The Funny Cat, The Spider Mom, and the Weird Door
This was a book I was excited to get into. The movie freaked me out when I was little, as did it everyone else, and I'll get to that since I watched it immediately after this. Maybe this Friday. But it isn't anywhere near as vividly horrific as the OG Evil Narnia. In a fun way. There's an implication in this book that the Other World and Other Mother are just two of many possible little horrors that live under your bed or behind the door that shouldn't be there that want to hurt and/or eat you. Kind of like real life. That's okay though, you can get through it alive. And Coraline proves it.
I like her a lot as a character. She isn't near as naive as she is in the movie, and catches on to the nature of what's happening on the end of night one, thus Other Mother kidnapping her parents to serve as motivation to come back. That gives the book freedom to explore the Other World and its nature thoroughly, and watch as it all crumbles around Coraline. I like that everything is just a bunch of bugs stretched into the visage of pleasant things by a giant spider. I also love that spider's contrary motivation. She needs to feed, but there is also a genuine desire to love Coraline, to be a mother, whatever her bizarre conception of what that means. Evil hungry desire is more pressing though. Get in my web, girl.
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis
Digimon season one for 1950s British kids.
At some point I decided to reread all of the Narnia books. I got through like, 4 of them in a weird order due to how Libby works. I promise I do read physical stuff its just hard to find the time to finish them. The first book the Narnia line up was originally written for my boy Clive's real life goddaughter Lucy Barfield , who was temporarily displaced as a child during WWII, as a children's story. He even dedicated the book and maybe the whole series to her. However, by the time he finished this one she was already an adult and "too old for fairytales." Classic blunder. I'll still read your stuff, Clive.
The whole of Narnia is a wintery wonderland turned on its head, its magic and majesty suffocating under a thick sheet of ice. Jadis is a very cool antagonist. She's not super complex, but she's a very strong character and extremely threatening villain, as we see throughout the series. The Pevinsies all have a sweet relationship. Edmond's an asshole in a very realistic sense, but they all care deeply for each other in an even more realistic way. The end of the book starts a pattern Mr. Lewis likes to repeat where a quick epilogue is hamfisted into the end that blows over large swaths of time in a hurry to resolve everything. I have problem's with that in later books, but it works best here, skipping to the famous reveal that time moves much faster in Narnia, and two decades or so only equals a few minutes in our world. A little fucked up. Go through puberty again, Pevinsies, this time in BRITISH SCHOOL.
Prince Caspian by Clive
Ocarina of Time for 1950s British kids.
The second book in the series gives more context to the world Narnia lives in, while also screwing with our perception of what Narnia is in first place. A previously unmentioned country to the east invades and colonizes Narnia, oppressing its people and removing magic wherever they can. Lewis can write about the complexities of colonization as he actually comes from a country familiar with this kind of shit, believe it or not. Who are they conquered by? A country of Minotaurs? Dragons? Wayward dwarves still allegiant to Jadis? Humans??? What the hell?
Turns out Narnia is the weird magic fairytale place even within its own universe. Everywhere else is inhabited by eternally 18th century European style society. It's also 1000 years later, but a year for our dudes, so the Pevinsies get to experience how Narnia has changed physically in all that time. Like Cair Paravel, that place two whole pages mention in the first book. I like that the age reversal thing is acknowledged in this book, and how that might have affected our heroes and their development. At the end of the book, the colonizing force gets sent to Earth, and Prince Caspian is crowned as King Caspian. Aslan (or maybe one of animals, idr) says outright that Narnia is better ruled by humans than its own people. Which is. An odd note to end on a book whose main conflict is colonization. Huh.
A Horse and His Boy by C. Staples L.
He was a horse. He was his boy. Can I make it anymore-okay shut up.
This is an interesting one. Five books into the Narnia series and we are introduced to brand new protagonist, with zero connections to previous characters, in a place that is not Narnia. He's a young boy who runs away with a talking horse in their desperate attempt to both escape slavery. They meet a spunky, ass-kicking princess who's also running away, this time from an arranged marriage. Narnia in this story is more of an ideal their working towards, rather than a physical place the story spends time in. The plot is very refreshing in this aspect, especially if its the fifth, or in my case, third Narnia book you've read in a row. It could likely stand on its own outside the rest of the series, though you do get a surprise cameo from the adult Pevinsies pre-wardrobe-return, which is fun.
I do have a couple issues with it though. I'd argue against the idea that all of Narnia is a direct analogue to Christianity. Aslan is definitely furry Jesus, and C. S.'s theological beliefs are an obvious intentional aspect of the storytelling, but most of the books have themes and lessons outside of that and pose a genuinely fun fantasy world to engage with. The religious metaphors in this book specifically are pretty heavy-handed though, and not very delicately woven in. The setting of the story also pulls allusions to several real-life Middle Eastern cultures, and if you think a white British dude in the 50s wrote about that respectfully? Sorry no. There's also a lot of mention of Boy (I straight up forgot that kids name) being Special and Different for having pale skin and blue eyes. :/. At the end is another rapid-fire epilogue that blazes through Boy's life as the new prince of wherever that I think the story could have gone without. Just let it end with dignified mystery, Clive.
The Magician's Nephew by Siwel S. C.
Honestly Clive the mulitverse trope has been done to death, bro
Last Narnia book on the list as of now. Luckily, its also the best one. This is a prequel to the whole of the Narnia continuity, which details the creation of Narnia and the origins of Jadis, but the actual plot revolves around two new Brit kids Digory and Polly. Digory is described as grubby at least sixteen times throughout the story. His mom is sick and his magic uncle sucks ass and he's scared and he has no friends. Polly decides to be that friend which ultimately burns her as he's also a bit of a selfish brat. Learning to get past that brattiness and mature enables Polly to forgive him and ultimately helps him save his mother.
The plot takes place in the Wood Between Worlds, which has still stuck in my head and spurned on my imagination years later. You move outside of Earth to find the grandness of the Milky Way, you escape the Milky Way to discover the imperceivable majesty of the universe, and you find the indeterminate edge of that universe and land yourself in an idyllic forest with trees so high you cannot see the sky, the forest's floor dotted with puddles leading to other worlds. Jadis' origin is also pretty fascinating. A queen so obsessed with ultimate power she destroyed her own empire rather than let her sister take it. Aslan roars the world into existence. The whole vibes on this book are pretty stellar, ngl.
The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath
You wouldn't be cool if it weren't for the lessons that you learnt in the BELL JAR, nah, nana nah nah.
And now for a weird fucking heel turn. And also the last book I'm doing for now. I'm going to be honest, my original interest in this book came from the song "I Cut Myself" by Talkshow Boy, who mentions the book in the above lyric. Also, my college roommate said she liked it a lot. I went in with zero expectations and was surprised at how hard it hit home. I've never been personally institutionalized, but I know people who have, and I can relate to the downward depression spiral Esther goes through in this book.
Its interesting to see the thought patterns and paradigms that Esther voices in her inner monologues that partially lead to her mental break. Little observations that reveal her hyper-awareness and implicit nihilism. They're good observations too. The vivid description of the horrific image of a woman giving birth compared to a dulled animal being hooked into a machine. You can see her perspective on a lot of subjects, probably even agree with much of it. It makes sense, as this is the author famous for vivid and introspective poetry more than anything. Looking at the historical context for this book made me sad, especially given how hopeful the ending was, at least how I read it.
Going to shift into movies at the end of the week. I'll need to start doing these at least bi-weekly if I want to finish before the end of the year. Also more bisexually.
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