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szariahwroteit · 2 days ago

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Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 5

Tori allowed a day to slip by following the night of the party. Although her mind was tethered to Jude, the reason for her journey to Dubai, she needed a moment to gather her thoughts and find some clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. The vibrant city stretched out around her, but she felt the need to pause, breathe, and reflect.

However, the next morning, Jude woke up with a newfound determination. There was only one day left of the year, and while he didn’t care for resolutions or using the start of the calendar year to try and implement change, he refused to go into the new year existing in such an awkward space with Tori. They were so new that Jude wouldn’t call what they were amid growing pains, but he knew it was a hurdle they had to get over together if they wanted to be in each other’s lives.

He understood how daunting his life may have seemed and how sought after he was by women, but he also needed Tori to understand that it was her he wanted.

As one of the most heavily documented footballers of the current generation with a star power that only seemed to be going from strength

to strength, women came in droves, but having options didn't mean much when there was already someone in his line of sight.

Slipping on his sneakers, Jude stood from his seat on the edge of his plush hotel bed, grabbing his phone and wallet before stepping out of his suite.

Letting out a breath he'd been holding, Jude made his way towards Tori’s room, his palms clammy despite the coolness of the hotel corridor.

She'd texted him around an hour prior letting Jude know she was awake, but that had been their first interaction since the night of the party in his teammate's hotel suite.

She’d spent the day before ignoring every call and message he sent her, only reading them before closing out of the chat.

Although it wasn't in Jude’s intentions to hurt her, he was man enough to acknowledge how careless he'd been and as possessive and ego-driven as it may have sounded, it wasn't until he saw Tpri with Alex that he fully realized the error of his actions.

To even see her standing beside another man made Jude’s skin crawl and adding insult to injury Alex had an arrogance about him that Jude didn't care for at all.

With each step towards Tori's room, Jude's heart raced. The sound of his footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridor, mirroring the internal chaos brewing within him. He thought back to the moment he recognized his feelings for her—how genuine her laughter was, how her eyes sparkled with excitement, and how she brought a sense of warmth into his otherwise chaotic life.

Reaching her door, he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be honest, to lay everything out on the table, but he also didn't want to come off as desperate or overbearing. He had to strike a balance between vulnerability and strength.

Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked gently. A few moments passed, and just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing Tori. She looked beautiful, her hair tousled messy bun and her eyes slightly puffy from sleep. There was a hint of surprise etched on her face, but it quickly faded into an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” Jude said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk?”

Tori hesitated but then stepped aside to let him in. The air was thick with unspoken words as he entered the room. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively over her chest as if shielding herself from whatever was about to transpire.

“I should have been more considerate of your feelings, I should have been more attentive and the last thing I want is for you to feel as if I’m just dragging you along for the ride.” Jude took a deep breath, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions.

“I know I messed up. But I also can't ignore the fact that I feel like you're holding back or anticipating me fucking up,” he continued.

“I’m not waiting for you to fuck up, Jude I have no idea what I’m doing,” Tori attempted to explain.

Jude took a step closer, his desire to bridge the gap between them almost palpable. “Then help me understand,” he urged, his voice softer now. “Because I want to be around you.”

Tori looked into Jude’s eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance, for something to break the tension that clung to the room like a thick fog. His sincerity was evident, yet doubt still clouded her thoughts. “The world is yours to do as you please with, the other night made me realize that and it's unfair of me to expect you to change anything about your world because I'm uncomfortable.”

They’d only known each other a few short weeks, but those weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions and unpredictability. Everything that had happened between them thus far has stemmed from impulse and raw attraction to one another, but eventually, they had to be real with themselves and for Tori; this was that.

“I get that, Tori,” Jude replied, his voice steady despite internally trying to keep his frustration at bay. “But just because I can do something doesn't mean I will, I have self-control.”

“I never said you didn't,” Tori shot back, a flicker of defiance in her eyes.

“That’s what it feels like you're getting at.” Jude leaned in slightly, trying to gauge her reaction. “You’re implying that my lifestyle somehow dictates what I should want, or who I should be. But that's not the case, not with you. I need you to see that.”

The charged atmosphere hung between them, heavy with expectation. Tori took a deep breath, the fight in her eyes softening momentarily as she considered his words. “I just don’t want to end up being another woman in your life, Jude. I want to matter to you—not just because I’m a different kind of distraction.”

Jude shook his head firmly, his expression earnest. “You already do matter to me. You’re not a distraction. Being with you feels real, and that’s what terrifies me and excites me all at once. I want to make this work, but I need you to meet me halfway.”

Tori dropped her arms, the defensiveness slowly peeling away. The vulnerability in Jude's eyes tugged at her heart. She could feel the sincerity of his desire, how he was trying to carve out a space for both of them amidst a storm of external pressures.

“Halfway…” she murmured, the thought lingering in the air.

“Yes,” he urged. “Let’s be honest with each other. I won’t pretend that it’s easy for either of us, especially with my world. But if you’re willing to try then I'm here.”

Tori felt a knot in her stomach loosen just a bit with Jude's words. They felt genuine, the kind of honesty that could either lead to something beautiful—or something painful. But she wanted to lay down her fears, to strip away the layers of uncertainty that had built up between them. “I want to try too,” she said finally, her voice steadying. “But I need you to understand where I’m coming from. I can’t just dive in without knowing if we’re on the same page.”

Jude nodded, his expression softening. “Tell me what you need to know.”

Taking a deep breath, Tori plunged into vulnerability, the words tumbling out. “I just need you to see with me. I'm not asking for constant reassurance, I just want to know that we’re exploring this together, to understand what we both want.”

Jude took a moment to process her words, his heart swelling with the weight of her honesty. “Tori, I want you,” he said firmly.

“If by chance that changes, please just—” Before Tori could complete her thought, Jude swiftly moved forward, enveloping her in his embrace. His arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers, the intensity of the kiss catching her off guard. It was a fierce, passionate connection, igniting a spark that surged between them.

Tori felt herself melt into Jude, losing track of the worries that had weighed so heavily on her mind just moments before. The kiss was all-consuming, filling the room with a warmth that pushed away all thoughts of uncertainty. She could taste the determination in his kiss, the promise of sincerity that lingered in the air around them.

As they pulled apart slightly, she could feel Jude's heart beating against her chest, a rhythm that matched the unrest of emotions swirling within her. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, searching her expression for any sign of hesitation.

“I won't change my world, Tori,” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper, “but I want to invite you into it. I need you to trust me.”

Tori nodded slowly, grappling with the flood of emotions rushing through her. Fear, exhilaration, longing—it was all entangled within her, but she found solace in Jude's presence. “I want to trust you, Jude,” she admitted, looking up at him, “I just need to know that you see me.”

He stepped back slightly but kept his hands on her arms, grounding her. “I see you,” he insisted, his voice sincere.

“Then can you kiss me again?” Jude's lips curled into a smirk, a playful glint sparking in his eyes at her request. He took a step closer again, his grip on her arms tightening just a fraction before he gently tilted her chin up. The air between them felt electric, charged with an undeniable chemistry that had been simmering since they first met.

“Are you sure?” he teased, though the sincerity in his tone was evident. He wanted to ensure that she was ready for whatever this connection could bring—because he certainly was.

With a soft breath, Tori nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. The nervousness in her stomach began to dissipate, replaced with an exhilarating rush that accompanied Jude’s every movement. He leaned closer, his breath warming her skin, and then his lips met hers once more in a slow, deliberate kiss.

It started gentle, a tentative exploration, a soft brush of lips that spoke of longing. But as the kiss deepened, it morphed into something more urgent and impassioned. Jude’s hands found their way to her waist, lifting her so he could carry her over to the bed.

Tori couldn't help but giggle as Jude positioned himself above her, his strong hands framing her face. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, and gently captured the delicate curve of her neck between his teeth, sending a shiver down her spine. The playful intimacy of the moment filled the air with a charged tension that made her heart race.

“All I want is to make you smile,” Jude murmured against her skin, his right hand moving from beside her head to grip her hip holding her in place.

“I think you do a good job most of the time,” Tori smirked, reaching up to run her fingers through Jude’s coils as she looked into his eyes.

“Most of the time?” he repeated in mock offence.

“Most of the time,” Tori confirmed. “For example when you're at parties receiving lap dances, I'm not too hot on you,” she said, making Jude frown playfully before pushing his face back into the crease of her neck.

“Okay, I deserve that one,” Jude admitted, his voice muffled against her skin. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them. “But, can I make you moan?” he asked, a playful challenge dancing in his eyes.

Tori's breath hitched, her heart racing at the sudden turn of the conversation. The boldness in his question sent heat pooling in her stomach, igniting an undeniable desire within her. She met his gaze, searching for sincerity among the playful banter, and found it. Jude wasn’t just teasing; he genuinely wanted to know.

“Depends on how you plan to do it,” she shot back, teasingly raising an eyebrow, her confidence blossoming in the aftermath of their heightened emotions.

“I want to taste you,” Jude whispered hotly into her ear.

“Is that so?” she replied, her voice sultry, laced with intrigue as she arched an eyebrow, daring him to make his move.

“Absolutely,” Jude affirmed, his confidence unwavering. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, his body pressing closer to hers. “Let me show you how I plan to make you moan.”

With that, he trailed his lips down the side of her neck, savouring the taste of her skin as his hand reached between them to pull apart her robe, cupping her breast. Tori gasped, every nerve in her body igniting under his caress. The sensation was rousing, the promise of what was to come sending spirals of desire coursing through her.

“Jude,” she breathed the warmth of his mouth on her skin, sending a tingle down her spine.

“Relax,” he breathed out, his lips and tongue continuing their exploration, trailing lower, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. His fingers danced over her soft skin, igniting a fire that made her pulse quicken.

“Just let me enjoy you,” he murmured, his breath hot against her as he settled between her legs, raising her left leg to come and rest over her shoulder so she lay completely exposed to him, the space around them fading into a blur of colour and sound, leaving only the two of them.

Tori let out a breathless moan as Jude pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her pussy, groaning as he got his first taste of her on his tongue.

The sensation rocked through Tori like a bolt of lightning, her body instinctively responding to the warmth and pressure of his mouth. She gasped as he explored her with slow, deliberate movements, his tongue dancing over her sensitive folds, teasing her in a way that made her forget everything else around them.

Jude’s eyes flicked up to meet with hers as she felt his lips spread into a smile against her before he went to work on her.

Tori’s hand reached up to cover her mouth as a means of silencing her moans as Jude feasted on her pussy, his skin slippery against hers from a combination of his saliva and her arousal.

The sounds that came from his ministrations were lewd, he sucked and slurped on Tori as her back arched from the bed completely intoxicated by her.

Her senses were overwhelmed, the way Jude's mouth moved with expert preciseness sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The air was electric with tension, the intensity of their connection radiating like a wildfire, each gasp she stifled only fueling the fire within. As her breath hitched, her fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him closer, craving more of the intoxicating sensations he created. Every flick of his tongue sent her spiralling deeper into ecstasy, and at that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared, lost in a world of indulgent pleasure.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” Jude groaned, leaning back a little to make room so he could use his thumbs to spread her open, gathering saliva on the end of his tongue before allowing it to drip from his mouth onto her.

Tori gasped softly at the improper compliment, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks and spreading lower, intensifying the throbbing ache between her thighs.

"Take it," she managed to murmur, her voice breathy and laced with desire.

As if to emphasize her point, Tori's hips tilted upward, offering herself to him more fully. The cool air kissed her damp folds, a stark contrast to the burning heat of Jude's gaze as he took in the sight of her splayed out before him.

"Please," she whimpered, the word escaping her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers tightened in his hair, not quite demanding, but urging him to continue.

At that moment, Tori felt wild, uninhibited, and completely surrendered to the sensations coursing through her body as she watched Jude stand from the bed to remove his clothes before grabbing his wallet and retrieving a condom from it.

“I want you inside of me,” Tori's eyes fluttered open, meeting Jude's gaze with an intensity that stole his breath away. "Please Jude," she whispered, her voice rough with need. "I want to feel you inside me."

She reached for him, her fingers trailing down his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice slightly deepening with desire.

Tori's hips lifted off the bed, a silent invitation, an offering of her body and soul. Her legs spread wider, a clear display of her readiness, her need for him.

"Take me," she breathed, the words both a plea and a command. "Make me yours."

In that moment, Tori was lost to everything except the fire burning within her, the aching void that only Jude could fill. She needed him with an intensity that consumed her, obliterating any remnants of doubt or hesitation.

Crawling on top of her petite and slender, yet dangerously curvaceous body Jude led with his tongue as parted her lips so she could taste herself.

As Jude's tongue parted Tori's lips, she moaned softly, the taste of her own arousal mingling with the unique flavour of Jude. It was a heady combination, one that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through her body.

Tori's arms wrapped around Jude's neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue danced with his, exploring every inch of his mouth with a fervour that matched the intensity of their earlier passion.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Tori arched her back, pressing her body flush against Jude's. She could feel every contour of his muscular frame, the hard planes of his chest rubbing against the soft swells of her breasts.

The friction of their bodies moving together stoked the fire within Tori, her skin tingling with anticipation. She needed more, craved the feel of Jude's hands on her body, his touch igniting a trail of sparks wherever he caressed her.

Their bodies undulated together, a sensual dance fueled by primal need. Tori's hands explored Jude's back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, marvelling at the strength that lay beneath his skin.

Jude groaned against her lips, the sound muffled by their kiss. His hands roamed her body, skimming over the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips, before coming to rest on the soft curves of her ass.

With a firm squeeze, Jude lifted Tori's hips, angling them so that he could slide into her with one smooth thrust. The sensation was indescribable, a perfect reunion of flesh on flesh that left them both gasping for breath.

“Tori, you feel fucking perfect,” Jude groaned into the crease of her neck, his hand slipping from her to wrap around her thighs and pin her to the bed beneath him.

Jude had never considered himself a man with sadistic tendencies, but where sex with Tori was concerned; she possessed an innocence he wanted to ruin and protect all at once.

She was so submissive to pleasure, both giving and receiving and all he wanted to do was explore that—explore her.

Tori's body arched into Jude's touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, bordering on painful in its intensity, yet Tori welcomed it, craving more.

"Ah!" Tori let out a throaty cry as Jude slammed deep into her, the sudden fullness stealing her breath. "God, yes! Fuck me harder, Jude!"

Tori's nails raked down Jude's back, her fingers digging into his skin as she urged him on. Her hips bucked against his, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervour, driving them both closer to the brink of ecstasy.

"You're so fucking tight," Jude grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "So good, baby." Tori's head fell back against the pillows, her dark hair fanning out around her like a halo.

“Get on top, I want to watch your beautiful little body while you ride me,” Jude continued, raising his head so he could look into her eyes.

Tori hesitated, her eyes widening slightly at his request for a change in position. She wasn't used to taking the lead in the bedroom, preferring to let him guide her.

But there was something about Jude's command, the way he looked at her with such raw desire, that made her want to please him, to give him exactly what he wanted.

Slowly, carefully, Tori manoeuvred herself into a straddling position, her knees on either side of Jude's hips. She could feel the heat of his body, the hard length of him pressing against her core, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

As Tori lowered herself onto Jude's cock, she couldn't help but moan softly at the sensation of being filled, stretched, and consumed by him. Her walls clenched around him as if trying to keep him inside her, never to let him go.

Tori’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, her eyes locking with Jude’s as he raised his hips beneath her, the head of his cock kissing firmly against her cervix.

A rush of sensations flooded Tori’s body, the fullness igniting every nerve ending as she gasped at the invasive, yet welcomed pressure. Jude’s intense gaze held hers captive, the heat of his desire reflecting back at her like flames in a hearth.

“Fuck, you feel unbelievable,” he rasped, thrusting gently as he pushed deeper, each subtle movement sending electric jolts of pleasure cascading through her. Tori arched her back, her hard nipples brushing against his chest, intuitively wanting more of him, more of this exquisite connection.

“More,” she urged, her voice barely a whisper, heavy with longing. “Please, Jude... I need it.”

A predacious grin spread across his face, and without a moment’s hesitation, he complied. Placing a hand on the back of her neck and the other on the small of her back, pulling her body flush against his.

With a powerful roll of his hips, Jude drove deeper, claiming her in a way that turned her breath into a string of frantic gasps. The rhythmic motion filled the space between them with an intoxicating harmony that made her pulse race. Tori’s body melted against his, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that rippled through her, echoing with each thrust.

“Jude, you're so deep,” she moaned, her voice weak with desire as the sensation overwhelmed her. It felt as if he were reaching into her very soul, each movement igniting a fire that blazed hotter with every stroke.

“Look at me,” he growled his words lacking in diction as his hand on the back of her neck came to wrap around her throat, easing her body to sit up some so he could look into her eyes as he rounded his hips into Tori, fucking her incredibly deep.

Tori’s heart raced, the combination of his grip and his commanding gaze sending shivers of exhilaration down her spine. She loved this side of him, the way he took charge, the way his need matched her own. The space around them faded, leaving only the two of them tangled in a whirlwind of heat and desire.

“Jude…” she breathed, her voice trembling as she leaned into his touch, craving both his possession and his passion. The intensity of his stare felt almost tangible, wrapping around her and binding them in this moment of unadulterated pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels,” he urged, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

It took Tori a moment to gather her thoughts, to articulate the overwhelming sensations crashing through her. “It’s... so much,” she managed, her breath hitching as he ground deeper inside her, every thrust perfectly timed to lift her closer to the edge. “It’s everything, Jude. Just—just don’t stop.”

His eyes burned with a mix of ownership and satisfaction, and he revelled in her response as if her words were his own personal high. He adjusted his angle, hitting a spot that sent a wave of pleasure washing over her, causing her to arch into him.

“Don’t ever second guess how fucking perfect you are,” Jude growled, his voice deep and resonant, filled with raw need. He intensified his pace, each thrust resonating through her as he delved deeper, pushing her closer to the brink. The heat between them crackled, an electric current that sparked at every point of contact, igniting every sense.

Tori’s breath quickened, each inhaling a desperate gasp for air as if the sheer force of their connection threatened to overwhelm her lungs.

“Oh god, Jude… yes,” she cried, her back arching further, urging him on. It was as if his every touch had created a symphony within her—a melody of pleasure that coursed through her veins, building to a crescendo that she could almost taste.

“Feel how much I want you,” Jude painted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he quickened the rhythm. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every contour, as though he wanted to memorize her completely.

Finally settling his hands on her hips as he bit down on his bottom lip, Jude’s brow furrowed as his gaze fixed on Tori's glossy brown eyes as she gave herself to him.

The connection between them deepened with every thrust, a magnetic pull that transcended the physical realm. Tori felt exhilarated and vulnerable all at once, ensnared in a dance of ecstasy that made her skin tingle and her heart race. Jude’s gaze burned into her, the depth of his desire setting her aflame from within.

“You’re everything I want,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he quickened his rhythm, driving them both higher.

As Tori’s eyelids heavy with lust slid shut, she felt a singular tear of unadulterated pleasure roll down her cheek, a physical testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Every thrust from Jude felt like a promise, each powerful movement igniting more than just her body; it deepened their bond, drawing them closer together as though they were the only two souls in existence.

“Jude,” she gasped, opening her eyes to meet him once more, searching for some kind of guidance. Her body was his, even if only for the moment.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a heated whisper as he captured her gaze, anchoring her in the depth of their connection. Tori felt as if he was unravelling her from the inside out, his words wrapping around her heart like a warm embrace. The trust between them intensified the experience, elevating every sensation beyond the physical.

“Just you and me,” he said, his breath heavy with need. “Nothing else matters right now.” With those words, he thrust deeper, asserting that claim within her, pushing her to places she had never dreamed of reaching.

Tori managed a nod, her voice lost in the tumult of pleasure. She surrendered completely to the moment, allowing the waves of ecstasy to wash over her. The rhythm between them grew urgent, a fierce manifestation of their shared longing, building in intensity with every tide.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jude groaned, his hands tightening possessively around her hips as he lost himself in her. The pressure building within her was electric, every pulse of pleasure drawing her closer to that swirling vortex of release.

“Jude, I—I can’t hold on much longer,” she warned, her words whisper-soft amidst the gasps and moans echoing through the room.

“Good,” he encouraged with a primal growl, his eyes darkened with lust. “Let it go, Tori. I want to feel you cum on me.”

With each powerful thrust, he pushed her closer to that edge, his rhythm relentless, a beautiful pinnacle that made everything else fade into oblivion. Tori’s body responded instinctively, tightening around him as if seeking to pull him even deeper.

“Jude!” she cried out, feeling the pleasure tighten into a coil, ready to unravel. He pressed on, relentless in his pursuit, his voice a seductive growl that wrapped around her heart.

“Just let it happen, Tori. Feel all of me,” he coached his hands firmly gripping her hips as he tilted his hips into her, making sure she felt every last pulsing inch.

The intensity of their connection reached a fever pitch, each thrust adding fuel to the fires that roared within her. Tori could feel the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over her, a tsunami she couldn’t hope to hold back any longer. Every nerve in her body tingled with need, each pulse syncopated with Jude’s movement, forging a bond between them.

“Just like that!” she gasped, her words melting into moans, expressing the bliss that swelled within her. Every inch of her became attuned to his rhythm, and she relished the dance of their bodies—the slick sliding sensation that came with each thrust, their shared breaths mingling in the charged air.

Tori’s fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned forward, wanting to feel every part of him pressing against her. “I’m so close,” she confessed, her voice breathless and laced with desperation. The heat radiating from his body set her ablaze, igniting a fire that refused to be quenched.

“Cum for me,” he commanded, his voice raw with desire, pushing her to the brink. His hands gripped her tighter, anchoring her as he thrust deep, each movement driving her closer to the edge she was so desperately in pursuit of.

Tori's body quaked above him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. She could barely string words together, lost in the depths of her pleasure. “Jude, I can’t… I—”

“Give it to me,” he urged, his strained as he felt his end nearing. “Please, Tori.” The desperation in his voice pushed her over the edge, that insistent tone igniting the last spark of her restraint.

With one final thrust, Jude buried himself deep inside her, and Tori felt the world swirl around her. The coil of pleasure snapped, sending shockwaves coursing through her body as her orgasm shattered every thought, every worry, leaving only raw ecstasy in its wake. Waves of pleasure rippled through her, overwhelming her senses, and she forgot everything except the intoxicating rhythm of their bodies entwined.

“Jude!” She cried out, her voice hoarse as she let herself fall into that abyss of pleasure, riding the crest of the wave as it crashed over her. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she felt herself pulsing around him, tightening and pulsing in the throes of her release.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his own body responding instinctively to the feel of her climax. With each tightening clench of her walls around him, Jude lost himself completely, the warmth of her body drawing him into a well of bliss.

He felt his release building, the intensity of her orgasm pushing him over the edge. “I’m right there with you,” he groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Tori locked her gaze on his, their breaths mingling as they rode the waves together. The connection between them deepened with each pulse, each beat of their hearts echoing in time.

“Jude!” she gasped, as another wave washed over her, pulling him along in its wake, and then, as if their bodies were synchronized, he delved deep into her, stilling as he poured himself into the condom he wore.

“Fuck, Tori!” he cried out, the sensation of her wrapping around him perfectly driving him over the edge as his cock filled her completely.

As the remains of their orgasms gradually faded, Tori collapsed against Jude, panting against his chest, both of them lost in a cocoon of warmth and satisfaction. Her heart raced, still thumping with remnants of pleasure as she felt Jude’s arms wrap around her, holding her close.

After a few moments of blissful silence, Tori began to regain consciousness of her surroundings, the warm afterglow of their passion enveloping her like a cozy blanket. The city outside was bustling with life, but inside the room, time felt suspended, a private moment shared between just the two of them. Tori would have been content to lie there forever, nestled against him, but a sudden wave of apprehension washed over her.

Jude, sensing her shift in mood, tightened his grip around her. "What are you thinking?" he asked softly, his voice low as he stroked her hair, pulling her even closer.

“Not much,” she mumbled, nestling deeper against the warmth of his chest. The contentment surrounding them was intoxicating, even as a flicker of reality started to seep back in.

“I was thinking about taking you shopping today,” Jude suggested, a teasing lilt in his voice, his fingers gently grazing back and forth over the small of her back. “I want to spoil you a little.”

“Spoil me?” she asked teasingly, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Yes,” he replied, a charming grin spreading across his face. “So you can get dressed up for me tonight while we bring in the New Year.”

Not only was it a chance to spoil her and in turn feed his ego, but there was also something about the act, the quality time spent that seemed rather intimate to him.

“What would you like to see me in?” Tori asked with a smirk as she sat up, her breast round and perky as she straddled Jude’s lap.

Jude's gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her sitting on him, her body radiating confidence and allure. “Honestly? I like you in absolutely nothing, but a dress would be more fitting considering our plans for tonight,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his words, the compliment igniting a warmth within her. “What are our plans for tonight?” she asked, her breath deepening as Jude’s hands came to rest on her hips.

“Dinner and then a New Year's Eve party at the marina,” he explained, his dark eyes locking onto hers, filled with anticipation. “And you have my word no lap dances will be taking place,” he smirked, earning a laugh and playful punch to the bicep from Tori.

When they finally pulled themselves from the bed, Tori made her way into the bathroom to get ready as Jude went to leave her hotel room and head back to his own.

As he pulled open the door of Tori’s room, he noticed Alex walking towards him, dressed in a suit similar to the one he wore the night of the party when he comforted Tori.

Instead of saying anything, Jude offered Alex a knowing smirk, his body still humming for the passionate encounter he just had with Victoria.

Making his way back to his room, Jude changed clothes and alerted his security guard of his plans to leave the hotel with Tori.

As he dressed, Jude felt a sense of anticipation bubbling within him. The thought of taking Tori shopping, of sharing the day with her, filled him with excitement. He couldn't wait to see her in something stunning for the New Year’s Eve party, something that would make her stand out and remind everyone—especially Alex—who she belonged to.

Once he was ready, Jude stepped out of his suite and made his way down the corridor to Tori's room. He knocked, his heart racing again at the thought of seeing her. The door swung open, and Tori stood there, looking radiant despite the casual outfit she wore. A fitted black top hugged her frame, paired with high-waisted jeans that accentuated her curves perfectly.

“Tori,” Jude spoke up, his voice laced with genuine admiration. “You look incredible.”

Tori smiled shyly, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Thanks. I figured I’d keep it simple for shopping,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Simple? You look anything but,” Jude replied, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “Come here,” he instructed.

Tori’s heart fluttered at the command in his voice, and she took a small step toward him, curiosity lighting up her eyes. Jude reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

Tori’s breath hitched in her throat as Jude pressed a kiss against her plump lips, his hands slipping down to caress her backside as he walked her backwards into the nearest wall.

His mouth moved against hers with a hot intensity, igniting a fire within Tori that she couldn’t ignore. She thawed into him, her body responding instinctively as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth.

“We need to leave or I'm going to end up fucking the shit out of you in this entryway,” Jude groaned against her lips, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Tori couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the previous days melting away in this moment of intimacy.

“Then we should hurry,” she replied, her voice playful, yet filled with a thrill of excitement. She stepped back, breaking the embrace just enough to catch her breath and regain her composure. Looking into Jude's eyes, she felt an undeniable connection, one that made her heart race and her stomach flutter.

Jude gave her a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Shopping first, party later.”

Tori grinned, her excitement bubbling to the surface as she took Jude's hand, guiding him toward the door. “Lead the way then,” she said, her voice playful.

#jude bellingham smut #fanfic #jude bellingham #chick lit #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid #jude bellingham fanfic #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham one shot #jobe bellingham

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charmed-asylum · 18 hours ago

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The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last.

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself?

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you.

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?"

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage.

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--"

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder.

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water.

"No, you don't--"

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one."

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal."

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway."

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say.

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you."

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter.

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest."

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left.

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window.

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment.

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene.

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look.

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says.

"And tea?" You add.

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you."

"Yeah, I... I know."

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.

"Thank you," you smile as best you can.

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter.

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down.

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses.

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit.

"You-" he begins.

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time.

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation.

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?"

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help."

"Okay, but why?"

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to."

"You want to?"

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me."

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other."

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?"

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend."

"Was," he interjects.

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes."

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says.

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much."

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders.

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you?

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.”

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer.

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.”

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.”

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everestgale · 9 hours ago

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You're lucky. What I would give to be able to forget—

[Drawing and design notes under the cut]

*cackles* Turns out, even putting just Hero through Moment of Clarity wasn't enough for Everest, they needed to make all of their voices suffer :]

This drawing was a very funny one because it just kept evolving until it got to what you see now! It was supposed to be a quick doodle where I send my human Hero to MoC... but then I wanted to add the other voices and give this drawing some nice lineart... and then I wanted to add flat colors to make sure each character is distinct from one another... and then I added light shading—

Despite how much it grew out of my control, and despite how much trouble it gave me composition and concept-wise, I'm quite happy with the final result. I'm glad I could at least play around and make some concepts for how my voices would change during the Moment of Clarity. Some were definitely on the simpler side, but others had quite a few neat details! If you're curious to read my thoughts on that, well, there we go!

Stubborn: definitely one of the simpler ones, though both of his Adversary-borrowed horns are snapped, almost symbolizing his usual will to fight depleting almost completely. He also has a bunch of bruise/dust marks all over him, as though he just came out of a fight.

Broken: I went with the obvious one and gave him a bunch of cracks for how shattered he is. But I also made his ears longer (which is the case for all of my voices that have "loose"/hair-like feathers - which are Hero, Smitten, and Broken)... and also he has a suspicious scar on his neck—

Cold: he is the voice that has the least "damage" on him, only really having some missing/messy bang feathers. He does, however, seem even colder than usual, insisting that all other voices are too soft, and they need to be numb and unfeeling... what's a better way to represent that than to literally have him covered in light icy texture?

Paranoid: my poor Paranoid always, always wears gloves when he can, it's a headcanon of mine that he feels extremely uncomfortable and anxious without them. And, uh, he is not wearing any in this drawing. Also just like the Hero in this and previous MoC drawings, he does not have any claws on his hands. His claws are gone :]

Skeptic: he was a difficult one for sure, I couldn't quite figure out how to represent his damage and distress. I ended up breaking a link on his neck shackle (which is barely noticeable), breaking his spiky collar feathers (which is barely noticeable), and adding a light "unraveling" texture (which is, again, barely noticeable). He does look very uncertain and confused, though, so at least I got that right!

Smitten: Smitten borrowed some of the elements from his HEA design, mainly the straightened hair and fallen-out curls. But to differentiate between the two designs, I also added a crack along the center of Smitten's face, like the one you might see on a broken heart :]

Opportunist: Opportunist actually doesn't seem to be doing too horribly during MoC (at least if you compare him to some of the other voices), which is why his design isn't as damaged as some of the other ones. He is tattered and messy, sure, but not completely destroyed like some of the other voices, though I did make sure to give him a very wide-eyed... half-scared, half-empathetic expression, I guess.

Hunted: while his quote "Kill or be killed" was taken out during one of the updates, I really wanted to include it in the drawing because I think it characterizes Hunted during this route very well. That's why his primary damage is blood splatters, from numerous and numerous and numerous deaths.

Cheated: he was fairly simple to do because his default design is already cut up and stitched together. All I needed to do was to add a few more gaping wounds and unravel his stitches. That's why his right ear is missing, too!

Contrarian: similar to Cheated, Contrarian also just got a feature of his regular design—cracks—greatly exaggerated. Contrarian really didn't seem to be doing well during MoC, which is why I went all out on his cracks. Couldn't let him open his eyes, or drop his "smiley" expression completely, but you hopefully can tell that he is barely hanging in there.

Hero: oh, Hero, my sweet, sweet boy Hero. I already talked about his MoC design in a previous post—broken visor feathers to represent his destroyed nature as a "hero" and missing claws—and his long, very unkempt feathers represent the passage of time (how long they've been stuck in there) and almost unraveling (how badly has Hero been damaged by whatever they all experienced in the lead up to Moment of Clarity).

...should be all I wanted to ramble about! Hope you all like this drawing as much as I enjoyed making it :]

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kudouusagi · 2 days ago

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Animedia Uryuu Kyouko interview

Not skating but playing karuta!?

Q: What is the scene that you though "this is hot" the most during?

A: While they were playing Karuta! Please feel that true breath of life!

You'll be able to see all sorts of firsts!

You'll be able to see how Sakurayashiki and Nanjou interacted while they were young!

Just as the title says, you'll be able to see their morning routines!

You'll be able to see Hiromi-chan in love!

Click to read the rest of the interview

We asked Kyoko Uryu for secrets about the production of the OVA!

--It's been just about 4 years from when the first season was aired on TV, and the OVA is going to be shown in theaters soon. How did you determine how production would go?

While we were making the first season, people would often say things like "I'd like to do this type of thing in season 2" so there was a strong desire to continue in the production team. So it was determined we'd make a season 2 very soon after we saw the reaction to season one. However, since it's an original anime without a work to base it off of, and the staff had plans to work on other projects, we figured it would take a while to make another season. We decided to produce an OVA before the second season, as we wanted to deliver something new in the meantime, and also as a gift to express our gratitude to the fans who would be waiting for a long time. That ended up taking quite a while too though......(sweat). Thank you so much for waiting......!

--Uryuu-san, please tell us your favorite part of the OVA, that's an "Omnibus story about their everyday lives"

We wanted to make something we couldn't do in the series, and we wanted to make it something that us as the staff would also want to see, so this is an episode we made from all of our ideas. I can't say much about the content yet because it would be spoilers, but I can tell you now that my personal favorite point is the theme song! Not only is it sung by Reki and Langa, the lyrics that Utsumi-san helped produce are amazing, so please listen to the full version on the OVA bonus CD!

--In the commercial currently available, we see Sakurayashiki and Nanjo in their highschool days. Was the part set in the past something you came up with after it was decided there would be an OVA?

Well, we had decided that they've been "frenemies since childhood" before this, but we started from wondering how these two would have been during their school days if they fight like children even as adults..... That's how we went about creating this story. We hope you enjoy seeing their former daily lives(?) that we aren't really able to depict in the main series.

--If there's a character that your impression of has changed, or you've found a new appeal because of the OVA, please tell us!

Kikuchi! Kikuchi is a mysterious character by nature, but I think you'll see a side of him that's completely different from the image you have of him from the TV series.

--Other than the second season that's already being made, there have been various collaborations and pilgrimage tours held for this series that's been loved for a long time. Is there anything that you personally want to see happen for SK8, Uryuu-san?

I feel like the fans of SK8 have a deep love for this series, so if I ever have the change, I'd like to have a tea party or something like that to talk with the fans about the series. I'll never forget about how enthusiastic the fans were at the talk event held during the pilgrimage tour last year (lol). Other than that, I'd like to be able to have a Canada episode someday and be able to hold a Canada pilgrimage tour...... of course before that I'd like to go to Canada with Utsumi-san for location scouting!

--Finally, please give a message to everyone waiting for the OVA to go one sale and the theater screening!

Thank you so much for waiting 4 whole years.

The OVA is made for the fans who are overflowing with love for SK8, and I think it's packed full of rich content for them so please look forward to it!

The limited time theater screening will of course contain the OVA itself, but we also plan to deliver specially edited footage from the first season so that everyone in the theater can enjoy it together, as well as behind-the-scenes talks with the cast and director. There will be footage only shown in the theater so I hope everyone will enjoy it together before the OVA comes out. The OVA packaging will be just as elaborate, if not more than, the series packaging, so we hope you'll pick it up and watch it over and over again!

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity

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yanderenightmare · 3 days ago

Note

this might be a stupid question but what are the rules of omegaverse? or like idk how to phrase it but what's the set up?

On Omegaverse

Not a stupid question! In fact, a really good question because the answer is anything but straightforward!

♡ Consensus still pending...

There aren't really any set rules in the Omegaverse, which is why, when reading an Omegaverse fic, there will often be a paragraph or two at the beginning of the story explaining the setting, rules, culture, and dynamics specific to that Omegaverse alone.

Even so, I'll try to explain the overall concept, as well as divulge some of the common tropes different writers use.

And so, first off! Plainly put, the Omegaverse is an alternate universe in which human beings can have an additional gender, referred to as the second gender—most commonly but not restricted to Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Across different Omegaverses, these second genders act as defining factors, often deciding social rank as well as playing a part in determining other physical, physiological, and psychological attributes of a character.

♡ Alpha, Beta, Omega, Whatnow?

Alpha, Beta, and Omega are ranks typically used within the hierarchy of a wolf pack. The general idea is that Alphas are the pack's leaders, with Betas as their second in command, while Omegas exist at the bottom as the lowest-ranking members.

I want to note really quickly that this view of wild wolves is an old conception and has since been criticized and debunked—something I'll write more in length near the bottom of the post.

But anyway, regarding the Omegaverse, this is still the general dynamic, wherein the Alpha, Beta, and Omega titles aren't only used to identify rank but exist as actual bodily differences as well—referred to as second genders.

And, while Alpha, Beta, and Omega are the token types in most Omegaverse settings, they aren't standardized. For example, Betas can sometimes be ruled out entirely to focus purely on Alpha x Omega pairings—while other writers might add even more types into the mix, such as Delta, Gamma, Sigma, etc...

There aren't any rules to this.

♡ Werewolves or nah?

Since the ranking system was originally taken from the wolf hierarchy, it's natural to think that the Omegaverse has to have something to do with werewolves, hybrids, or some other type of bestiality.

The answer to this is both yes and no.

In some Omegaverses, it's true that characters will be some or other version of werewolves. Hybrids with tails, fluffy ears, claws, etc—or shapeshifters who can fully transform themselves into four-legged canines—or any other type of werewolf you can think of.

This is all a creator's choice and up to them to implement or not!

As for other Omegaverses, characters will be described as regular human beings but with added instincts and characteristics in line with what second gender they have: Alpha, Beta, Omega, etc... Here, the whole wolf aspect of things isn't highlighted, though might still be used somewhat metaphorically.

There are no rules to this either. Only options.

Additionally, not all Omegaverse hybrids need to take after wolves alone. The range can be broadened to include any type of dog breed—Huskies, Labradors, Chihuahuas, etc. Here, apart from physical attributes, what type of dog a character is can also play a part in what type of personality they have. For example, Huskies are diligent characters, Labradors are fun-loving and playful, while Chihuahuas are uncharacteristically combative for their size.

I've even come across some writers whose Omegaverse includes any and all types of hybrids, having Alpha horses, Beta oxen, and Omega bunnies. However, I'd say this is less common and will more likely be referred to as hybrid au or something of the like.

♡ Characteristics!

Though there are no rules, there are some common understandings of how the different types of second genders tend to look and act.

Starting off with Alphas. They're usually described as big and strong and come forth as the designated leaders in society.

Personality-wise, they can be loud and oppressive but can also be shown as silent, stoic types who command the room simply with their presence. In any case, they're often very masculine and dominating, always marking their territory and striving to be the ones in charge, with a tendency to be very protective of what's theirs and rather aggressive when challenged.

More physical attributes other than strength and size may be added, such as an array of muscles and a gifted nether region, including the knot.

The knot is most common in Omegaverses that have a hybrid spin. In simple terms, the knot is a group of muscles found at the base of an Alpha's manhood, which swells up when they're close to climaxing to keep their partner from pulling away and so ensuring that their spend doesn't escape.

More traits common for Alphas in the hybrid Omegaverse are bigger and stronger fangs than their other counterparts, as well as larger and longer claws, better hearing, optics, and sense of smell—they're also faster, stronger, and often smarter than the rest. All reasons as to why they're considered the leaders in society.

But all in all, whether you include all of this or not, Alphas are considered the ones at the top of the food chain.

And at the bottom of that food chain, we find Omegas.

Often portrayed as small, weak, and meek by nature—Omegas are the opposite of Alphas. And yet, despite this, Omegas are also highly desired by Alphas for mating reasons. Although this isn't really taken from our understanding of how actual wolf packs work, it is often the case in the Omegaverse.

You see, in the Omegaverse, Omegas are considered highly fertile and domestic, making them objects of desire for Alphas. In turn, Omegas will usually want an Alpha—the bigger and stronger, the better—to provide, protect, and keep them safe from other Alphas.

Furthermore, Omegas are said to be very pretty, sometimes to an irresistible degree, and will often be described as cute and doe-eyed.

Hybrid Omegas have all the same physical attributes as Alphas, but smaller—so tiny teeth, short and sometimes dull claws, soft bodies without much muscle, etc...

Simply put, Alphas are large and dominant, while Omegas are small and submissive.

Now Betas, on the other hand, are a little more ambiguous...

Some choose to make them the odd men out, characters without Omega/Alpha instincts and needs—making them the normal humans in an Omegaverse society. Here, Alphas and Omegas are more or less an altogether different species than Betas.

Others choose to treat the second gender as a spectrum going from Alpha to Omega with Beta in the middle—here, Betas might vary from being recessive Alphas to recessive Omegas.

Others, again, portray Betas only as just below Alphas—so, still big and strong but falling just short of being the biggest and strongest.

Hybrid Betas will be described as something in between Alphas and Omegas, or simply as smaller Alphas—so moderately sized teeth, claws, muscle mass, etc.

There are no rules to this, but all in all, Betas are usually portrayed as being less desirable to both Alphas and Omegas—for these mentioned reasons and for further reasons we'll divulge now.

♡ Scents, Ruts, Heats and Suppressants

This is what makes up the charm in the Omegaverse.

Scent is basically the Omegaverse word for pheromones.

It's often the difference in scent that allows characters to identify and determine whether someone is an Alpha, Omega, Beta, etc. Moreover, scents are used to arouse and are often what induce heats and ruts, which we'll talk about shortly.

But first! Alpha scents are usually described as spicy and musky, whereas Omega scents tend to be described as sweet. Both, respectfully, are designed to attract the other.

Betas, on the other hand, are either described as not having scent glands the same way Alphas and Omegas do or have them but exude a very weak scent, which in some Omegaverses might be the very reason they're deemed as Betas—labeled as defective Alphas or Omegas.

This is all up to the writer. There can be many other descriptions defining the Beta type, each different from the first—too many to explain here. A writer can more or less make their own definition of what makes someone a Beta.

But in any case, Alphas and Omegas are often said to be indifferent to a Beta's scent. Likewise, Betas aren't affected by Alpha and Omega scents—either because they can't really detect them or because it doesn't affect them the same way, usually because Betas don't experience heats or ruts such as Alphas and Omegas do—though this can also be decided by the author.

Again, no rigorous set of rules applies here. It all depends on whether the Betas are portrayed as being normal humans in an Omegaverse society or something more like recessive or defective Alphas/Omegas.

But onto heats and ruts!

Omegas go into heat, whereas Alphas go into ruts. Betas, as I already mentioned, are often said to go into neither—but that's a choice the writer makes.

And, as you've probably guessed by now, there are a lot of different choices a writer can make here...

Omegas often have a heat cycle—meaning they experience regular and scheduled heats. You can think of it like the menstrual cycle. It doesn't have to be once a month or every full moon—it can be twice a year before winter and spring or once a year between January and April like female wolves have. Like many things, it's up to the writer to decide. But in any case, Omegas tend to go into heat on a regular basis.

Additionally, the scent of an Alpha can sometimes induce spontaneous heat in an Omega outside their heat cycle.

But what is heat exactly?

Well, heat is the time when an Omega is most fertile. When Omegas go into this heat, they're often said to feel horny for no apparent reason, often to the point of feeling frustrated and feverish, while exuding copious amounts of slick and scent in order to attract a mate.

The degree of these symptoms varies from writer to writer. Some like to portray heats almost like a sickness, describing a burning ache in the lower belly making the Omegas bedridden and damn-near delirious, whereas other writers make their Omegas fully functional, only feeling slight discomfort—while other writers incorporate both for different types of Omegas, some highly sensitive and others not so much. Again, same as with menstruation, some women feel high levels of pain, and others don't feel anything at all.

Ruts are a bit different...

Most writers treat ruts like the Alpha equivalent of heat—meaning it's when their libido is at its highest and their need-to-mate through the roof. But whether this is also based on a cycle or is simply triggered when encountering an attractive mate varies from writer to writer.

The symptoms of an Alpha's rut are also a matter of debate. Some writers make their Alphas go completely berserk, all manners of rationale gone, blacked out with only one goal left in their head: to mate until their ball's empty. Other writers make them simply become hot and bothered and a little more aggressive than normal. And some writers choose both, making their Alphas lose control over specific Omega scents while having less of a reaction to others.

But onto suppressants!

Sometimes called heat/rut suppressants or inhibitors, these usually exist in the Omegaverse and are sort of their version of the pill, only different and with more effects.

Heat suppressants or Omega inhibitors are often explained to minimize the effects of a heat or to prevent it completely, making them highly useful for sensitive Omegas that experience tough heats regularly.

Rut suppressants or Alpha inhibitors are, similarly, for Alphas who experience rough ruts or who are sensitive to Omega scents.

All in all, suppressants and inhibitors are taken to avoid the effects of ruts and heats.

You also have something called scent blockers, which, as the name suggests, makes the person who takes them dull their scent glands, making it so that they don't emit too much of a scent or cancel out their scent completely. This is useful for Omegas and Alphas who don't want to attract attention—and can be used, for example, to keep their second gender hidden from others.

♡ Pairing, Mating, Marking, Biting, and Bonding!

So, as we've already gone over, the most common pairing is Alpha x Omega. But it doesn't have to be that way! Anyone can, of course, be with anyone, even in the Omegaverse. Omega x Omega, Alpha x Alpha, Beta x Omega, Alpha x Beta, and Beta x Beta are all still valid pairs, as well as all other variations with the other additional second genders.

However, there are some things that will work differently or, in some cases, won't work at all.

First on that list are, as we just covered, scents, ruts, and heats.

As I said, Betas aren't usually affected by Alpha/Omega scents, but they can still feel attraction for them anyway! The same goes for same-second-sex relationships. Omegas won't affect each other with their scents, but they can still like each other despite that. Alphas, too, can fall for other Alphas even without them necessarily being affected by one another's scent.

The matter, then, of course, is whether they can satisfy each other when their heats and ruts come along. Generally, an Alpha and Omega are made to please the other, and so it's common to see writers make their Beta x Omega/Alpha pairs and same-second-sex pairs struggle with this—which is where using suppressants and inhibitors may come in handy.

Another thing that will work differently is bonding.

Bonding or marking happens when one or both in a pair mark each other with their bite, thus solidifying them as mates.

This, however, is commonly agreed that only works and happens between Alphas and Omegas, where Alphas will deal the bite to the Omega or both unto each other. This is often described as an irreversible act, forever binding them together as a mated pair.

Depending on the writer's choices, there may or may not be any merit in an Alpha biting a Beta or of a Beta biting an Omega—and even less in two Alphas or two Omegas biting each other.

And so, as you can tell, a lot of the Omegaverse rests on the idea that Alphas and Omegas are meant for each other and only each other—and therein lies the potential juicy conflict, which we'll discuss a little later, but first...

♡ Soulmates!

This is another common facet in the Omegaverse.

The soulmate idea typically rests on two concepts. We went over the first one: the bite that seals the bond between an Alpha and Omega for life. Here, Alphas and Omegas can more or less choose their soulmate.

Additionally, it's often a factor that after the bite is dealt, the Alpha and Omega in that bond will only affect each other with their scents and will only be able to reach satisfaction with each other when experiencing ruts and heats—basically making them fully dependent on one another forever.

The other soulmate concept is based on the idea that an Alpha or Omega will recognize the scent of their mate—at first sniff! Here, soulmates are predetermined and not chosen.

Both of these concepts can exist in one Omegaverse. Sometimes, the scent will be used to identify a soulmate but will still need to be confirmed and sealed through a bite or rejected by not biting.

♡ Culture, Society, and Politics

This is where you can really have fun!

When you have characters in ranks like Alpha, Beta, and Omega, who are supposed to be one thing, it can be interesting to suddenly make them the opposite.

For example, Alphas are supposed to be successful winners—but as we see in real life, not all those who have everything going for them end up with it all. So it could be fun to take the angle of a loser Alpha who hasn't got what he feels entitled to.

Or to have a really successful and independent Omega, who is generally only supposed to be a housewife for Alphas.

Betas can be a fun role to play with too. You can make them salty for not being Alphas, desperate to do anything in order to prove themselves—or you can make them happy outsiders who're relieved they don't have to participate in any of the Alpha-Omega nonsense.

Additionally, as we covered earlier, you can break the normal pairings. You can make Alphas who are sickeningly interested in courting only Betas—who almost seem to think of them as a conquest. Or Omegas, who're frightened of Alphas and end up only courting each other. Or Alphas who think everyone is beneath them and also decide that only those of their own rank are worth their time. Or Omegas who, instead of settling for just one Alpha, goes for two Betas, like in this fic:

♡ TWO BETAS, ONE OMEGA

And that's only breaking gender and social norms! We can also break the body norms! Such as suddenly making a really big and strong Omega and a small and cute Alpha. A dynamic I explore in this fic:

♡ UNNATURAL

♡ World Structure

There are many different types of Omegaverses. Still, I'd say we can categorize the Omegaverse by three different types of world structures: modern, primal, and dystopian.

Modern Omegaverses are reminiscent of the real world but with the added Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamics.

Primal Omegaverse is where society is set out in the wild—this is also the type of Omegverse that usually features hybrids.

Examples of primal Omegaverse:

♡ SILLY LITTLE MATE

Dystopian is modern Omegaverse, but with laws and politics that support segregation between the second genders where Omegas are usually being oppressed and treated as lesser humans—this is the one I play around with most.

Examples of dystopian Omegaverse:

♡ TWIST OF FATE ♡ THE OMEGA INSTITUTION ♡ HARD-LEARNED LESSON

♡ Second gender and male pregnancy!?

I'm not an expert when it comes to this type of Omegaverse, but yes, male pregnancy is possible in some Omegaverses due to the existence of second genders.

This type of Omegaverse is popular in the Boy Love genre.

Here, Omega males can be impregnated by Alphas.

Male Betas, however, can neither impregnate male Omegas nor be impregnated by Alphas. They can, on the other hand, still impregnate any type of female.

Additionally, Alpha females can also impregnate Omegas. In this type of Omegaverse, Alpha females are often portrayed as futanari—meaning they have both sets of genitalia.

Rules to this vary, though I'm unfortunately not well-versed enough to explain it all. And so I'll leave it at that.

♡ Other Animalistic Elements May Be Included!

Impregnation may be referred to as catching, and babies as pups. Additionally, Omegas will often be said to carry litters, meaning more than just one pup—sometimes a lot more.

Scent glands exist on the wrists and in the juncture between the neck and shoulder—which is also where the bite is dealt.

Imprinting can be another aspect of things. This is something that happens as you grow up, often between childhood friends and siblings and with parents. Imprinting simply means that you recognize the scent of someone else as kin, trustworthy, or a source of comfort. Pets do this with their owners, for example.

A home, bedroom, or simply a bed might be called a nest or den. Nesting is when a character spends time in the nest, typically for Omegas during heat or pregnancy.

Other than that, I'd say there's a lot more one can implement in the Omegaverse. But this concludes the general idea of things as well as some further inspiration for those who might want it.

♡ Wolf Pack Hierarchy: Debunked!

Lastly, I want to clarify that the Alpha, Beta, and Omega ranks aren't really as relevant out in the wild as many would believe.

Wolf packs out in the wild are usually only made up of two parents and their children and, therefore, actually have a similar type of hierarchy to that of human families. Wolf cubs come of age before they turn three, at which point they'll leave their family pack, find a mate, and start their own pack. Leaving no need for ranks, just the simplicity of mother, father, and offspring.

However, wolf packs kept in reservoirs and captivity are different because they're usually much bigger, including not only relatives but random non-relatives, at which point a hierarchy is needed, which is where the idea of the Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamic originally comes from—from humans studying a large group of mostly unfamiliar wolves held strictly in captivity.

This would be the same as locking a number of random humans together in a house and deeming the outcome a solid case study for what happens naturally when, in reality, it's the farthest thing from natural occurrence possible.

Of course, wolf packs of a larger number do exist out in the wild as well, though they are uncommon. But even then, the simple dynamics of Alpha, Beta, and Omega don't apply as straightforwardly as it sounds.

But anyway, here's a last fun fact about wolves: they mate for life!

♡ For more Omegaverse fics of mine: ♡ FEM x M INSERT ♡ GN x M INSERT

#nightmare's helpdesk #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #alpha #beta #omega #hybrid #hybrid au

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klorophile · 2 days ago

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I agree and I don't at the same time... I've been having mixed feelings about this take and I'm gonna try to put some words on it.

First of, Arcane absolutely is a modern tragedy, yes, of course, no doubts about that. It's even presented with a classic theatre colored structure: different acts composed of episodes (scenes), and even works in threes to be fancy. And I mean... the characters, their actions, the consequences, the themes, ... You see how things will go bad, and they do go bad because of their premices. Tragedy all the way.

Yes. ...For season 1. But season 2? I personally expected season 2 not to be a tragedy, or at least not fully. Because I feel like... "what's the point?" Season 1 was already fantastically sad. Absolutely all the characters were shaken at their core (to the point of death for some), everyone was facing their big ass consequences by the end of it. Why repeat that in season 2? Because the message of "you always pay the consequences of your actions" had already been 100% delivered, I feel like there was no need to repeat it for another 9 episodes. In a way, I feel like it's redundant.

And maybe that wouldn't have been a problem. I mean, Game of Thrones told us from the start "you're gonna cry, 'cause the world is horrible and that's it" and repeated it throughout all the seasons, sure, but I think one of the differences is that Game of Thrones never promised anything else. While I know I feel like Arcane did.

One of their motto for the second season was that everything was going to be turned upside down, a 'story of opposites' as Silco says, they wanted to force the characters to be the opposite of what they usually are (Vi with no one to protect, Jinx a hero, ruthless Caitlyn, not alive silco ToT etc). And well... If season 1 was a complete tragedy and season 2 is going to be the upside down version, then why is it still a tragedy?

And I know, writing those words, that the obvious answer is "because everyone still face consequences", "because the world is a tragedy no matter who you are", "because you can't escape", etc etc. Okay. Maybe (most probably) I'm just a pussy who can't stand sad endings, especially when I have a blorbo from this show. Maybe.

But I think a lot of us are feeling betrayed, not just disappointed, hence the strong reactions. For @angelinthefire's "Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not." I wonder: Wasn't it the story itself that made us expect another genre at the end? Like I said, the part 1 tragedy then part 2 same tragedy feels weird.

And, in all honesty, I hate that I am saying all of that, because I completely agree that people should just tell the story they want to tell however they want to tell it. I did not expect to find myself complain about something being a tragedy instead of having a good ending.

But the other thing is that I feel like season 2 is not completely consistant about its 'consequences', and also, well, a bit cruel... Because if you look at Caitlyn, she paid very little, she's just forgiven by the narrative like that, because the writers decided that she was 'good', and that in spite of her actions. And don't read this as Caitlyn hate, I absolutely love her, but I think that doing this to her kept her away from the character development she could have had. I feel like they made her narratively good, but also less narratively intersting than she could have been.

Meanwhile, Jinx had to die with Warwick, and the message is that she finally pays the consequences of her actions from when she was 12 and accidentally got her family killed. And that's... brutal. Of course, I am a Jinx stan, so I'm not objective at all, I am aware. But if I am a Jinx stan, it's because the show made her oh so relatable. A lot of people see themselves in her. And that makes killing her a little tricky I think... Especially as what she is being 'punished' for was an accident, that in the end does not get to be forgiven.

And I mean... I think all of this could have been okay, actually. Season 2 could have been a second tragedy, why not. But what bothers me the most is simply that it does not work as well as season 1.

In season 1, the end is unescapable. That is precisely why it's a tragedy. Everyone is aiming towards it, everything is falling falling falling to this. But I am not convinced by season 2. Viktor and Jayce had to be obliterated by the arcane to save the world? Ok, sure, but then explain it! How does it work? What did they actually stop? Because the Hexgate is still standing there, hextech still exists, Piltover is still what it is... Events are going to repeat themselves. And sure, there won't be Viktor for a new Glorious Evolution, which is for the better, but what how why Ekko what what happened?? It's just not explained enough. If it's all about consequences then the arcane and the wild rune should be explained better because nothing feels like consequences, it just feel like plot written for itself. It doesn't feel like a tragedy, it feels like a story written by people trying to knot an ending. Vi and Jinx can't have a relationship anymore, because they always fall in this codependant nocious thing so Jinx has to fake her own death and flee the country all on her own? Ok, that's interesting. But why show that they could and actually did begin to mend things between each other then? (the both of them working together as equals, Vi asking for Jinx's opinion, Jinx learning to be the big sister with Isha and by seeing Vi with her alcohol problem, ...) Why show Vander and Silco (Vi and Jinx parallels) together if by the end the conclusion is that you cannot mend a relationship when it's been too bad for too long?

Anyway, I feel like what I disagree with in season 2 (one of the things at least, because we're not talking about the Piltover/Zaun storytelling here, amongst other things) is that we were told that it did not have to end badly, and then it did anyway, and for reasons that are not solid enough. I agree with season 1 because I see how it couldn't have turned differently. It shows us its heroes, and because they are what they are, the end is what it is. But in season 2, I just feel like the sad ending was forced. It's the other way around: the end has to be sad, so the characters are going to do this and that. And I think that is also a part of why we read the 'consequences' with the morale glasses on: because if it is more forced than logically flowing, then we see the choices the writers deliberately made, who they chose to keep alive and who they did not, and we wonder why.

They say it's about consequences, but it feels more like they are forcing their characters in a direction because they want the end to go a certain way. It's not inescapable like season 1. And if it's not inescapable, then maybe we deserved a good ending for season 2. Or at least an episode 10 that would be an alternate ending or something.

I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.

And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.

I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.

Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.

But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?

In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.

And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.

#Well #those are confused thoughts really #a bit poorly worded #but I'd still like to publish this answer because opinions on it could be helpful #meta #I am trying.#Arcane #season 2 #tragedy #send help

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thewertsearch · 23 hours ago

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@hussianphilosopher submitted: Sally - longtime lurker, first time poster, big fan. I'm perpetually amazed by how thoughtful you are about Homestuck and how well you understand it for a first-time reader (you might be surprised how many people watch Cascade and don't actually understand that the Green Sun was just created, much less immediately put together everything Doc Scratch said and did that led up to it!). The high point of the liveblog for me was the whole arc of you being confused about how predestination in Homestuck worked, because, essentially, you had already figured out that the alpha timeline existed before the alpha timeline was introduced. You were confused about the story for a while because you understood it too well, too quickly! As someone who engages with the story similarly to you, on both the character level and the deep story/analysis level, I want to make what is a pretty contrarian argument these days: that the Epilogues are A. good, and B. canon. They're a tough read for sure, but I think someone who reads the story as deeply and pays as much attention as you do will really appreciate what they're trying to do. The Epilogues were also the last time that Hussie was directly involved with the story, and I think if you read them now it's very clear that the story is the culmination of ideas he was thinking about from very early in Homestuck (He said for years before the comic finished that he planned some kind of epilogue). The whole "dubiously canon" concept was part of a failed experiment on his part to try to step away and empower the fandom - the people who actually worked on the comic in that era always treated it as canon and referred to it as such. I consider the Epilogues the final canonical chapter of Homestuck - at a bare minimum I think it should be thought of as Hussie's take on a post-Homestuck fanfic, and I think it deserves attention. Of course I also think the story is good and interesting, which a lot of people don't, so, it's all a matter of opinion, but, as someone who's been following your liveblog and respects your reading of the comic a lot, I wanted to at least throw my hat into the ring on the subject. Incredibly excited to see what you make of act 6!

I really appreciate this honest, impassioned, genuine defense of the Epilogues. It's not the only one I've been sent, either - and quite a few of the others have also cited my analytical style as a reason why I might get more out of them than I realize. I can't pretend I'm not at least a little intrigued.

I've been thinking a lot about Homestuck's tie-in material while drafting my response to this message, and after some serious consideration, I've decided that I'm going to change my planned approach to the Epilogues.

I originally planned to read it in a more casual, less analytical manner, and potentially transition to a full liveblog if and only if I'm sufficiently engaged. Instead, however, I'm going to do the opposite, respecting the faith its defenders have in it by giving it the complete liveblogger's treatment from the very beginning.

I reserve the right to transition back to a casual read if I'm not enjoying myself, of course! But, rest assured, I'll only do that after giving the Epilogues a real, good-faith college try.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #asks

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mercutio-the-velaryon · 17 hours ago

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A Close Reading of Viktor's 'ascended' Form

Disclaimer: These are very jumbled thoughts but I've been trying to articulate this for a while so I'm just baring it to the public flaws and all.

I am being dead serious when I say that Melvik is a lens of viewing that serves to recentre Mel as a major character and reassert her value in the hextech trio dynamic. I will be utilsing this lens to analyse Viktor's choice to make his 'perfected' beings carry Mel's attributes.

Immediately, I will preface by saying, that although I read Jayce and Viktor's relationship as romantic, this choice has nothing to do with Jayce, at least, not in relation to feelings of romantic jealousy or romantic insecurity.

So, what does it mean when Viktor wears Mel's white and gold? I think it shows that he views Mel as the epitome of Piltover priivilege and the personification of the social barrier he could not supercede through hard work and picking himself up by his own bootstraps.

The scene above where Mel seems to be singularly be imploring Jayce to militarise Hextech as defensive action is essential to understanding why Viktor views her this way.

In this sequence, Mel is originally conversing with Viktor and Jayce on an equal physical level until she presents her ideal plan of action then she stands straight and focuses more on convincing Jayce rather than Viktor. This is not an attempt to be cruel or malicious, though it very well be an expression of her irritation because in Mel's eyes Viktor's reasonable protest seems like a juvenile outburst. As a Noxian and a Medarda Mel is accustomed to war and bloodshed she does not want the carnage of such an event to bring Piltover to ruin. However, she is also painstakingly aware that losing a war would be a death sentence. The stakes are life and death, and I believe based on what I understand of Mel's character that she would not attempt to bypass Viktor's opposition in more normal circumstances. She respects him to an extent but not more than she respects her position, her legacy and not more than she fears the consequences of losing a war.

Additionally, I view the way she stands and directs attention at Jayce as a demonstration of how she is by nature of the social system always above him. That she and Jayce, are classist as is everyone conditioned and socialised in this system, and for them as citizens of Piltover, as members of the bourgeoisie, and the council their dismissal of Viktor is not that active of a choice, its a reflex, its a manifestation of their biases. Which is terrible in its own right. Viktor discovers in this scene, that Jayce can and will go over his head despite hextech being a joint creation because his social positioning is just higher than his is. It always was and it always will be. These are unchangeable factors and immovable dynamics.

That is to say, that I think Mel's show of power in this scene, her long-term investment in hextech as well as very likely witnessing her political maneuvers from a distance during his time as Heimerdinger's assistant has cemented Mel in Viktor's mind as the paragon of Piltover privilege.

I like to imagine this reaction to Mel's powers "the arcane stirs within you" as a twisted delight. Magic is a natural force, its wild and uncharted and its presence in Mel has this undoing effect, it perplexes her, to use it she physically exerts herself, it makes her bare her teeth. It's a side of Mel, Viktor would have never witnessed, in her struggle with this he finds a glimmer of kindredness that briefly enthralls him.

When he creates his ideal form, a white and gold, sleek and slim faceless robot with a gentle elegent gait and manner of movement and is seeking to conform the entire world to it, know that Viktor in his mind is equalising both himself and the rest of the world to what he considers the apex of privilege, therefore ridding the world of social hierarchy, difference and struggle.

The grand irony of this act is that he ends up bypassing the autonomy of literally everyone by subjecting them to this much like Mel bypassed him. Meaning, he hasn't rid the world of this hierarchy at all, he's put all these people beneath him and robbed them of choice and freedom.

Separate Melvik spiel:

Mel and Viktor's inherent relationship to each other through nature, disposition and as narrative foils is just so meticulous I can no longer genuinely view Arcane as a text without noticing the absence of an established personal dynamic between them. The groundwork for a romance is embedded in the text, their relation to each other is already by itself canonically quite romantic, all of their qualities and attributes are either contrasting or is eerily similar, everything about them serves to say something about the other within the constraints of the Arcane narrative (I doubt this will continue in game and in the follow up series). His admiration of her is tainted by his resentfulness at her position and the way she's wielded it. So many characters in media have kissed for less than that.

#arcane #mel medarda #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane spoilers #viktor #melvik #meljayvik #arcane medarda #arcane meta #I'm sorry if this is just me saying the same thing over and over again in different ways #I am very sleep deprived

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kiryoutann · 2 days ago

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i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

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solarenchanting · 22 hours ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬)

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⸻ 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥

pairing: getō suguru x fem!reader

summary: denial ⸻ the unwillingness to accept something unpleasant is true.

tw/cw: descriptions of a dead body on an autopsy table.

note: third-year!suguru. suguru and reader were in an established relationship. haibara yū’s is already dead as in canon (BUT don't ask me about the tl in this). extremely vague mentions of the star plasma vessel mission. small satosugu moment. ooc!suguru (?).

a/n: firstly, it's officially three months since i posted my first getō suguru fic ( it'll pass ) and debuted as a fic writer (a milestone, i fear). but i do dedicate this mini fic series to myself 😅. secondly, i apologise for any inconsistencies, spelling or grammatical errors in this fic. as well as any misrepresentations of the characters involved (please do not perceive me 🥲 this is just my interpretation and exploration outside of the canon material). thirdly, i know the last few parts doesn't focus on the feeling of denial. and lastly, as always, much love from me to you <3

(fun fact: it's 01:54 am and i wrote this while listening to “speak softly, love” by david davidson)

edit: re-read this, and i realised that i used the word “pale” — please know that it has nothing to do with the readerʼs skin colour, just for a description for the current state the readerʼs body is in (also, i'm paranoid and don't want any misunderstandings 🥲)

the coldness pierced through suguru’s skin, seeping through the narrow pathways of his veins—freezing his blood. the fine, black hairs of his body rose to life, standing upright and sturdy. trails of never-ending goosebumps formed over and over. icy chills travelled down his spine, but his body remained rigid.

the soles of his feet were stuck onto the marble floor. he lost all mobility. a simple, thoughtless action couldn’t be comprehended in his mind. he couldn’t place one foot forward, couldn’t take a step back. yet, his legs trembled, nipped at by the cold air. almost as if they were begging, itching, to make a move—to walk.

his arms lay by his sides with his hands trembling. his fingers quivered and flexed, disturbing the dust particles that danced and circled in the air. it was reflexive—his senses heightened to recoil at any sensation grazing his skin.

his lips were parted, chapped and dry, yet nothing came out of him. words were caught in his throat, lodged and cemented. whatever he wanted to say, wished he could say, had transformed itself into the lump that was too stubborn to be swallowed down—a cruel manifestation of a betrayal of his body.

for his mind… his mind had not caught up to him—to it—just yet.

this was nothing but a fictitious, distorted scene. a tableau of a nightmare, one that he couldn’t wake up from for some reason. a sick and twisted fantasy that his subconscious decided to manipulate him—holding him by the control brace with no intention of letting go. the strings attached to his limbs were still, forcing him to stand there.

his eyes, once a bright violet filled with life, had become dull and dim ever since that grim mission—ever since witnessing the hideous evils of his world.

now, however, they were dark—staring at the sight before him.

you.

eyes closed, lashes brushing your cheeks like whispers of a memory. your lips were pursed, unmoving—silent forever. and the skin of your face, rigid and pale, and mottled with purplish-red blotches where gravity had taken its toll, forever replacing the warmth.

your body lay still on the cold and unfeeling stainless steel on the autopsy table, bathed under the harsh fluorescent lighting. your arms rested limply by your side, as if frozen in mid-reach. and your chest, once rising and falling, was unnervingly still.

the chill of the morgue hung heavy in the air, sharp and suffocating.

suguru’s mind screamed, distorted voices ricocheting through the silence of his paralysis, trying to slice through the fragile walls of denial—but he wasn’t listening. he refused to. it was all poisonous lies, trying drag him deeper into the black hole that had already swallowed him down.

flashes of memories erupted behind his tired eyes—vivid and haunting—each one a desperate attempt to rewrite the truth, to convince him that this wasn’t real. there was no way that you, of all people, you—

no—it can’t be.

it shouldn’t be. it couldn’t be. it wasn’t supposed to be—

but how?

how did he—how did you end up like this?

you—you were just with him earlier this morning. standing in front of his dorm door, staring at him with those beautiful eyes—the ones he could lose himself in forever while you’d ramble on about anything and everything. the ones he hated to see narrow in anger at him, or worse, brim with unshed tears—eyes that shouldn’t be closed.

and—and you were smiling. yes, you were smiling at him! you standing right there—in front of him—at his dorm room. why again? oh, that’s right! you wanted to check up on him before you left for your mission. the higher-ups sent you out.

that’s it. that’s what happened.

and he kissed you. god, he kissed you. he cupped your cheeks—the home of countless soft pecks his lips had peppered with. a sanctuary for tender caresses with the back of his finger while he admired you. he could still feel the warmth of your flesh, the gentle press of his thumbs against them.

your lips were soft—always curved into a smile. a smile that melted his heart, one that made it swell with pride when he knew he was the reason behind it. lips that clenched his heart whenever they fell and twisted into a frown. lips that made him ache whenever the lower one wobbled, with sharp, ragged hiccups escaping them like broken pleas.

but now—now, he’d rather have you here, standing in front of him. even if the sight hurt him, even if you were sobbing and hiccuping. he’d take your narrowed eyes filled with anger—hell, resentment even.

but not—not whatever this was.

you didn’t belong here—not in this cold, sterile place that reeked of antiseptic and death.

he felt the same helplessness he’d felt before—the sound of their clapping echoing in the back of his mind. a painful memory that refused to fade—the same weight pressing on his chest, his ribs caving in and crushing the air from his lungs.

only this time, it worse.

this time, it was you.

you had become another body he’d have to run past in this endless marathon—where countless sorcerers, friends and allies, lay scattered and bloodied along the track behind him. their deaths—your death—in vain. meanwhile, he was running out of breath, chasing a finishing line that kept moving, desperately trying to fulfill the duty of a jujutsu sorcerer.

and for whom?

a rustling noise cut through his thoughts. in that moment, he remembered, he wasn’t alone. his sullen eyes trailed up, fixing on the figure standing in the morgue with him.

satoru.

he was standing on the opposite side of the autopsy table. his fingers delicately curling along the edge of the thin, white blanket. with gentle movements, he pulled it over your body—covering you completely, save for your feet sticking out at the bottom—before returning his hands to his side.

fate was fickle, placing them in this position.

for they had been here before—seen each other like this already.

satoru’s expression was unreadable, devoid of any emotion. his gaze remained fixed on the blanket, as if he was staring at your face through it.

when he lift his head, suguru’s breath hitched, coming in a short, shallow gasp as he saw those dull and gloomy blue eyes staring back at him once more.

satoru didn’t say anything this time, because he didn’t need to.

despite himself, in the back of his mind, suguru knew.

he knew he was late.

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b-skarsgard · 2 days ago

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https://parade.com/movies/bill-skarsgard-nosferatu-interview-exclusive

Skarsgård's vampiric transformation does make him virtually unrecognizable. Combining full-body prosthetics and elaborate costumes, the actor built the character with Eggers over a 10-year period, even working with an operatic vocal coach on a completely new voice. If you're able to spot Skarsgård in the film, hats off to you.

Of course crafting a new version of Dracula/Orlok was certainly a momentous task. Skarsgård's been told there were already over "170 different adaptations" of the character prior to his own. He's humbly giving much of the credit for his own transformation to Eggers' screenplay, though.

full article at the link and under the cut

"I read Robert's Nosferatu script almost 10 years ago, and it hasn't changed all that much in those 10 years," he says. "So the version of Dracula was already different on the page."

Step one in the transformation was the voice. "I was really enamored by Orlok's language," Skarsgård says of Eggers' script. "He's technically speaking German in the movie, but it's English. I think he's learned German just from reading all of these texts and old books. It's this awkwardly constructed English that came out of that."

Orlok's voice was especially important in this film as the character spends much of the film hiding in the shadows to keep his true form hidden from Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult). "The movie monster tends to not have much dialogue, but in this case he has a lot," Skarsgård reflects. "So the voice became my way of expressing the character."

The deep gravely voice in the film was the product of acclaimed Icelandic opera singer Ásgerður Júníusdóttir. "We explored the voice together, but also the technicality of using your entire body when you speak and placing the voice as low as you can in your body," Skarsgård says. "It's a new world for me, and I love voice work. I was just absorbing all of these tools that I'm going to use as my career progresses."

Layered on top of the vocal work were Linda Muir's costumes, what Skarsgård describes as "historically accurate costumes that a 16th-century Hungarian nobleman would have worn. They're the clothes he would have worn when he was a man."

While Focus Features is keeping Orlok's appearance under wraps for as long as possible, you can see the massive fur coat Skarsgård donned in the shadowy poster.

"I knew the shadow was going to be an ally for Orlok, especially in the scenes with Thomas, where he's hiding his appearance," he says. "So he lives in the shadow, and he uses his big fur cape and the hat to not give away what he is. The shadow became a friend."

Perhaps the most impressive element of Skarsgård's transformation, however, was David White's prosthetic makeup, which took hours to apply each day, was difficult to act through and painful to wear. When I ask if he was able to cheat on days he was in the shadows, Skarsgård says no with one exception: "Every single shadow in this movie is also me puppeteering behind camera. That was the only time where I didn't need to have the full regalia on.

"The full prosthetics would take six hours to apply. "It's just uncomfortable," Skarsgård says of having to sit in the chair that long. "And any sense of privacy goes out the window. You become very close with the team that's applying this makeup. They're really getting up in there with a brush in your ass crack. They become your little safe space."

And the six-hour application process was just the beginning of what could be long, physical days on set. The film's final moments involve a sex scene between Orlok and Lily-Rose Depp's Ellen Hutter, which Skarsgård performed in head-to-toe prosthetics.

"I don't know her perspective on, 'I'm going to kiss this monster,'" Skarsgård says about his (fully clothed? skinned? suited?) sex scene, "But for me, when we shot, I was Orlok, and I really, really, really wanted to devour her."

If performing a sex scene in a hot latex bodysuit sounds miserable, that's because it was. "The actual final moment of Orlok was incredibly physically exhausting because there was a lot of technical camera work," Skarsgård says. "What's in the movie, I had to do that 30 times." If you've seen the film, you'll know how truly arduous that experience must have been.

The most difficult day on set for Skarsgård, however, involved a sequence filmed on a boat during Orlok's transfer from his castle in Transylvania to the German harbor he plans to terrorize next. In one scene that involved "pretty tricky advanced camera work," a seaman descends into the hull of the ship to "rid the boat of this demon." As the camera follows the sailor, Skarsgård's Orlok is initially seen behind the man in the shadows.

"Then I have to exit frame, run around and enter my position for when the jump scare pans down to the rats and then pans up and I'm standing there," Skarsgård remembers. "So it's very physical, but I was covered head to toe, except for my eyeballs and the soles of my feet. Even my palms and my hands are covered. That was a 12-hour day."

With that many prosthetics on, there's nowhere for all that sweat to go. "It doesn't breathe, and I don't think it's healthy," Skarsgård confides. "Your body's probably absorbing all those f--king toxins and glue and sh--, plastic and latex and whatever."

During the 12 hours running around the hull of a ship, Skarsgård remembers thinking, "I don't know what's happening, but my body is not doing well."

"You know the skin is your biggest organ right," he says. "So it needs to breathe. I got flashbacks from that urban legend about the woman in Goldfinger being covered in gold and actually dying. I'm like, 'Okay, this is how I go.'"

Obviously, Skarsgård did not die of heat exhaustion in a latex Dracula suit like that one cameraman in the 2022 film Babylon.

"At that point I told them—because it was a long day and I was waiting around—'We need to open it up so my body can breathe,' and then they found the pockets where I could open up and my body started to breathe."

Skarsgård compares the agony of the shoot with what he thinks childbirth would feel like. "They're not on the same level, of course. I've seen childbirth, but it's as close as I can get to giving birth as a man, as these f--king monsters I'm portraying," he says.

When I ask him if there were any other iconic monsters on his bucket list, he says he's done for now. "To play Orlok in Robert Eggers' Nosferatu is the holy grail," he says. "It's kind of the peak and, in a way, the nail in the coffin."

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #nosferatu #article #interview #parade

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crime-scene-psychic · 2 days ago

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I honestly think that the Nolan Batman trilogy was the best and worst thing to happen to the Batman franchise, because on one hand, it was the first live-action instance of trying to make Batman more gritty and serious (because while the Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney movies took the story much more seriously than the 60s television show, they were still goofy at times, which is why I honestly think they're the best rendition of Batman, because they were able to balance silliness with seriousness, which is what Batman is all about, but that's obviously an entirely different thesis) which then allowed for more people to take comic book movies serious, consequently leading to the rise of the DCEU and, obviously, the MCU (we would not have the MCU today and the actual good movies that came out of it without Nolan's trilogy, there's simply no argument there).

However, the Nolan trilogy also unfortunately made "dark, gritty Batman" the norm, meaning that once anyone tries to actually have some fun with Batman, they immediately get shit on by comic book dude bros. It also created the most annoying characterization of the Joker that everyone has been trying to replicate since and no one will be able to replicate, because they simply do not understand the character (I honest to God think the closest live-action actor who has ever made a Joker character work besider Heath Ledger was Cameron Monaghan in the Gotham television show, and he wasn't even really Joker??? but at least he didn't make it everyone else's problem and was a good mix of goofy and psychotic, not just psychotic) and will never be Heath Ledger (but they don't stop trying much to my forever annoyment).

And while I can recognize the cultural and significant impact on the comic and film community that Nolan's trilogy had, it is still by far my least favorite adaptation because of how serious it takes itself (and of course, the racism. The racism is actually the bigger one for me. Fuck Christopher Nolan for that. Ra's al Ghul is NOT a white man just because you want a plot twist, and you CANNOT just erase Bane being mixed race because you fucking FEEL LIKE IT because him being mixed race is extremely relevant to his origin). Batman has had serious moments in the comics, don't get me wrong, and I know things must evolve and change over time and that I cannot expect an 80 year old character to not be further developed throughout the decades, but it almost feels as if Nolan and Goyer (the writer) read a Sparks Notes version of the history of Batman, cracked their knuckles, and said "yeah, I think I got it."

Spoiler alert: they did not get it.

When I watch the Nolan trilogy (which I haven't in quite some time and I really don't want to, even to prove a point to people on the Internet) I notice how uninspired it feels, story-wise. While the action and cinematography is excellent, the story is lacking for me, and when you're telling a story like Batman, that has decades of content, you cannot just forgo storytelling for cool special effects.

I'd much rather watch a Batman adaptation that has the shittiest effects known to man with a writer who whole-heartily cares for the characters they're writing and has taken time to research. And that's honestly one of the biggest problems the comic book film industry is having now, both DC and Marvel. They're not hiring people who actually care about these characters to write them and they're focusing much more at appealing to everyone they can instead of who the movies should be made for: fans.

You're gonna have such a harder time convincing my mom, a woman who only cares about Wonder Woman, to watch the new Captain America film than you would someone who has read the Sam Wilson Cap comic run. And while this entire issue stems from the fact that the film industry is just that, an industry, and has become less about filmmakers making art and more-so how much money investors and producers can get out of ticket sales, it is still infuriating to see franchises you care deeply about be ruined by guys just there to cash their paychecks and be done with it.

And really, the film industry as we know it needs to be fucking demolished from the inside out, but that will never happen and now we're a bit off-topic. So, back to Batman.

I think another issue I have with newer live-action Batman adaptations is that they choose to forgo a VERY IMPORTANT character when it comes to Batman/Bruce Wayne's evolution as a character and story line.

Robin.

Since whatever the fuck the casting of Chris O'Donnell in 1995 was (why was he, like, a grown man?), people have been afraid to touch a live-action Dick Grayson with a six-foot pole (besides Titans, which I'm gonna get to in a sec). Which is ridiculous, because he is, like I said, an insanely important character when it comes to showing the growth Bruce Wayne goes through.

Bruce Wayne becomes Batman because he is so angry about his parent's deaths and the corruption of Gotham that he doesn't know what else to do. All the money in the world cannot change things for the better, his own father tried and died for his troubles, and he is left with no other option. Bruce Wayne works during the day to fight corruption via charity and his company, Batman works during the night and is able to do what Bruce Wayne can't (beating the shit out of people, mainly). The two are separate sides of the same coin.

And despite this seeming like a good arrangement, it's pretty obvious in most adaptations (at least they get THAT right) that beating the shit out of people in back alleys is not a good replacement for therapy. You're able to see the toll being Batman has on Bruce. He quickly becomes more occupied with being a vigilante than being himself. Bruce needs something to break through this internal struggle and help him balance both lives.

And so a boy named Dick Grayson comes along.

Dick's so important (and so are the other Robins, of course, but Dick being the first means I have to talk about him a bit more) because he forced Bruce to get his shit together. Here's a boy who's about the same age Bruce was when his parents died, who also just saw his parents killed in front of him, and is so full of rage he has no idea what to do. Sounds familiar...

Bruce is able to help himself by helping Dick. He gives him an outlet to vent his anger and frustrations while also looking out for him in the best way he can. While there are many issues with how Robin comes to be in various comic runs (and if this was real life it would be fucking ridiculous) Dick becoming Robin is extremely important. If he hadn't been taken in by Bruce Wayne, if he'd been allowed to let that anger continue to bubble up inside of him, he probably would have killed Tony Zucco and that would have been enough to set Dick down a terrible path he might not recover from.

The same goes for Bruce. If he were to set out and kill the person who shot his parents, he wouldn't be a hero anymore because that single event would shatter the entire point of Batman, which is that he is not meant to decide who lives and dies. If he were, how would he be any different than all the villains in Gotham that he fights as Batman? How would he be better than the corrupt businessman and politicians that he has to battle as Bruce Wayne? He wouldn't.

Batman needs Robin and Robin needs Batman, because they are yin and yang. Light within darkness, darkness within light. You cannot separate these characters and still tell an accurate story, it's impossible. I think that's a huge issue Nolan's movies have, on top of many others. You cannot accurately present to me a Batman story if there is no Robin, just as you couldn't give me a Robin story without Batman.

Every Robin is so important to how Bruce Wayne as a character is developed, and disregarding this as a creator is not only disrespectful to the character, it misses the entire point. I refuse to take your adaptation of Batman seriously if you can't figure out how important Robin is. He isn't just some kid sidekick, he isn't an optional side character, he is what makes Batman human. You cannot have gritty, Neo-noir Batman and forgo Robin just because you see him as the sidekick in tights. When Batman was silly and took itself less seriously, sure, there wasn't a lot to Robin nor Batman's troubling pasts. But now that you want to deep dive into Bruce Wayne's psyche and pick apart what makes him the way he is you wanna throw in the towel and erase the part that humanizes him? Fuck. You.

You can't make a complex Bruce Wayne and take away parts that help audiences understand his complexities, that's fucking STUPID!

Titans, for all its faults and problems, will always have my gratitude as it had the fucking balls to give, without a doubt, the best and most rounded live-action adaptation of Dick Grayson we have ever seen. Titans introduces Dick at a very important and rocky time in his character arch: him leaving Bruce.

If you're not in the know, there's a falling out between Bruce and Dick that's been written a couple different ways over the years, but all comes down to Dick being "fired" from being Robin and leaving Gotham. This is a bit of a newer story line in comparison to how long the character of Dick Grayson has been around, and eventually leads to Dick becoming independent from Bruce, signalling his evolution from "side kick" to his own hero, Nightwing. However, there's issues with Dick having to give up the Robin mantel, because it's something that is whole-heartily Dick Grayson. Robin wasn't something Bruce Wayne came up with, it was the nickname his parents gave to him. Even the colors are his, those were the colors of the Flying Graysons' uniforms. Robin is much more than just a vigilante alter-ego to Dick, it is the last link he has to his past and his parents. So when this is taken away from him and given to another, this causes a huge internal struggle for Dick, as he has to deal with the anger he now has for Bruce, a man he originally looked up to and idolized. This is Dick seeing how wrong it was for Bruce to do some of the things he did to Dick, despite at the time those choices being what both needed.

The way Titans is able to portray this extremely delicate time in Dick's story line in a way that not only makes sense for his character, but also allows for growth is really admirable. Like I said, the show isn't perfect by any means (can I PLEASE get a Romani actor to play Dick PLEASE) but it's the first time I feel that the character is wholeheartedly taken serious in a live-action setting. You can tell the writers have a better idea about how the characters should interact in a live-action setting and while some choices are questionable to me, the heart is there.

Nolan's movies in comparison feel soulless and devoid of all creativity and love. He does not care about these characters, no matter how much he tries to make you think that, and he never will. Christopher Nolan, you will NEVER convince me that you give two shits about Bruce Wayne. And if you, the director, can't bother to care, why should the audience? Why should I care about your adaptation if you can't even be bothered to put an ounce of individuality into it?

With Matt Reeves' Batman films underway, things are getting worse again. For a while, we only had to deal with the shitty Joker adaptations that tried to replicate Ledger's Joker, but with the Reeves Batman movies, the film bros are making themselves known again. I remember when the new design for the Riddler dropped and I said it was shit and people on Twitter and YouTube got SO PISSY at me and told me I just don't understand Batman and that I'm childish for enjoying the designs for Gotham Riddler/ Batman Forever Riddler and whatever and that I'm stupid, which none of those things are true, I hate to be confident in anything, but I think I know more about Batman than you do, Twitter troll.

The suit sucked and the character sucked. They just created a new character but gave him the Riddler's name. That's NOT the Riddler. That's honestly closer to Hush than Riddler, so just... do that? But of course, less people know about Hush than Riddler, and you're not trying to make a film for fans, you're trying to make money, so why would you ever be so silly as to do that! I'm not gonna talk to much about the new Riddler, just because it's super old news and it's not the point I was trying to make here, it's just something that continues to piss me off when it comes to gritty recreations of characters, because Riddler really never was supposed to be some Zodiac Killer wannabe, he's supposed to be a guy who leaves you riddles and makes you solve them and he's supposed to be a little silly about it. And I'm not saying you can't do a more gritty Riddler, because Arkham Knights did it super well imo! Just don't reinvent the wheel! Don't just make a new character and call him by another's name, that's a disservice to the character themselves and their creators.

This is a hard topic, because you have people who get the point of these characters (people who have actually read a comic before and paid attention to the story) but you also have insufferable film/comic bros who worship the ground Nolan and Reeves walks upon and who don't even take time to explore the rest of the Batfamily comics (his gang of vigilante children show up in the stand-alone Batman comics, though, so I don't know how they're missing this, unless they have the reading comprehension of a goldfish, which they probably do tbh). It's why I think a lot of these weirdos don't like Gotham Knights or Wayne Family Adventures, because they hate the thought of there being any semblance of fun in the Batman franchise. Not everything needs to be doom and gloom! Let Dick Grayson be bisexual and let Bruce Wayne have a PTA rival! You can have your cake and eat it too!

I know this seems like a silly sentiment coming from a person who just wrote an entire essay on this, but maybe don't take Batman so seriously? I don't mean, of course, that you can't care about these characters, I'm actually saying the opposite! I care very deeply for these characters, so much that I obviously spat all this out. I just think some people need to fucking chill when it comes to realistically portraying Batman. There's nothing wrong with taking a more serious approach to the characters and I have no problem modernizing them, but you can't just have action hero Batman, you have to have the human behind the mask too. And if you can't balance that, then I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be making Batman adaptations, because you obviously don't understand what the character is about.

I'm nervous to see where Reeves will go with the character, and only time will tell. I've heard rumors he plans to introduce Robin, I've heard rumors he doesn't. Either way, it's obviously out of my hands and I'll have opinions either way, but I really hope he has a better understanding of the history of the franchise than Nolan. While I appreciate, again, what Nolan did for revolutionizing not only the Batman franchise but the comic movie industry as well, I can still find faults in how he went about things. I truly don't believe we can have a worthy adaptation of Batman live action without Robin and without embracing the silliness of Batman's villains and I really hope producers, writers, and directors realize that soon.

Sorry if you read all that...

#batman #dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #robin #nightwing #dick grayson #christopher nolan #nolan batman movies #long post #sorry #but i had to say it

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melonlord98 · 2 days ago

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Love That Waits: Chapter 1 - Rhea

Summary:

"He had the type of smile that seemed to increase the light in a room when it reached his eyes. Brown eyes. Deep brown eyes that seemed to become molten when he spoke fondly of something. Though she rarely saw him speak much at all since she met him. She was surprised at her own attentiveness in that moment. When the fuck had she started to notice Jey Uso?"

A character study of the romantic relationship between Rhea Ripley and Jey Uso, through their eyes and the eyes of the people who love them. Starting from Smackdown 2023 to the present day. Somewhat kayfabe compliant, but also putting my own little spin on the most interesting love story in the WWE Universe!

These chapters are all written in third person, so if that bothers you, I'm sorry 😢. The first two chapters will be exploring Rhea and Jey's emotional states as individuals, but from the third chapter onward, each chapter will be split between both of them equally. With bonus chapters from the perspectives of Damian Priest, Jimmy Uso, Sami Zayn, and many others as they watch the relationship between Jey and Rhea blossom.

I will warn everyone in advance. This story is the textbook definition of slow burn and it will also not be including explicit smut. If anything sexual happens between the characters, it'll be more of a "fade to black" type vibe.

I wanted to write this fic to explore how Rhea and Jey truly fell in love with each other as they navigate through their own individual traumas. And since this story begins around 2023, I will admit that Rhea and Jey are not in the best place emotionally early on. So, be warned, "Fluff" is tagged, but it's not coming for a while 🤣.

My hope is to have a new chapter uploaded every week on Wednesday. This is my first fic and I hope you all enjoy! Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

Btw, all the chapters will be posted on AO3 as well if you prefer to view it there 😊!

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April 18, 2023

The shrill chirp of her alarm was what woke her. She leaned back, her arm sliding away from the slim contour of Dom’s waist as she fumbled to grasp the device. Cursing as it nearly fell off the nightstand. Rhea grunted as she pulled her other arm free from under her lover’s head, narrowly managing to catch her phone as it forcefully separated from the charging chord. She flinched back at the brightness of the screen and stamped the alarm off before tossing it onto the armchair just beside the nightstand. Sitting up dully, her shoulders sagged at the weight of what she now acknowledged was a rapidly growing hangover. Her head ached and she hissed as a sharp thread of pain shot from between her eyebrows and spread to the base of her skull.

“Fucking, Damian.” She groaned, falling heavily back onto the pillows, with her forearm falling over her eyes. Somehow a room shielded by blackout curtains was still too bright. They had gone out the night before with the Bloodline to celebrate the beginning of their alliance. She wasn’t usually the most overzealous drinker. She typically left those duties to Damian and Dominik, but something about that night had just felt right and so she had indulged them. Fuck was that a mistake.

A throb, just barely there, began to pulse at the right corner of her forehead and she cursed again. She’d swear off drinking if it weren’t so damn numbing. The thought was interrupted, however, by the sharp snort from the man laying next to her. She laughed low in her throat, wincing as action went straight to her aching forehead. Dom was a rather enthusiastic sleeper with a likely undiagnosed case of sleep apnea. Any other person would have been rudely awakened throughout the night by the sheer volume of his snores, but Rhea, who lived in a constant state of bottomless fatigue, often slept with a deepness just on the cusp of death. A match made in heaven (or hell, perhaps some would say).

Turning onto her side, she reached out to stroke delicately at the hair cascading over his ear. She was amused at the state of him. His body was turned away from her, but his neck was tipped back rather awkwardly and his mouth seemed to follow, hanging out to the side as he continued to snore. Her eyes scanned him lazily, stopping occasionally to scrutinize the dark spots on his purple silk pajama top from the steady steam of saliva that dribbled off his lip. A man who sleeps as immaturely as he lives awake. Rhea shook her head fondly at the thought. Her fingers continuing to stroke her fingers absentmindedly through his hair as she fell face first into the usual cogitations.

Her mind drifted to the previous year, the thought of her new beginning. How she and Damian had betrayed Edge and welcomed Finn. There was always something about it that never sat right with her. They had done everything right. She believed that. Edge had never deserved their patronage and so they outgrew him. Yet, it still haunted her. Even as she, surrounded by her two closest friends, had looked down at her old mentor and laughed in his face, that look in his eyes had remained imprinted in her mind. Betrayal. One in what had become a disturbing pattern. Her mind flitted to Raquel, her first loss. Her partner that had chosen everyone else over her. And Liv, a dead weight she had needed to shed the way a snake sheds its old skin; reborn in new, more vibrant color. Friendships she had sacrificed to become better. She was in the right. Edge had reassured her in the beginning. Damian too. She had needed to be selfish. She deserved to be! She was right—

Dom suddenly shifted in his sleep and Rhea jerked her hand back in alarm. His body rolled back toward her, realigning with his head and he smacked his lips before settling back into his usual snores. Not yet awake. Rhea stared at him and she could feel that familiar coldness in her chest. She cowered away from it. Throwing her legs off the side of the bed and nearly falling over herself as she made her way into the bathroom.

The pulsing forehead spread back into her hairline and she sucked air sharply through her nose as she felt bile rising in her throat. She fought against it, knocking her knuckles against the carved marble of the bathroom sink. The bathroom went pitch black as the door slid shut behind her. She couldn’t see anything and yet she felt stripped naked. Her skin hot, yet damp from sweat. As if she had been laying on hot coals. It was always like this when she thought of them. The memory of her many lost friendships like a disease that clung to the darkest parts of her. Parts she had layered over with molten rock and steel. She had made herself a blade, to protect against the reminders of her own past heartbreaks. However, it was moments like these where she felt like a snake eating its own tail.

Edge had told her that to be warm and embrace comfort was weakness. You could never get too comfortable. He did. So she and Damian had showed him the fruits of his labor as they usurped him. Rocking back onto her heels, she flailed for the switch and nearly fell when the white light of the mirror hit her square in the face. Her eyes burned with it, but the pain of the headache had dulled. An old pain replaced with a new one. A cycle she knew well. She could sleep, but she never rested.

She was able to blink as her eyes slowly adjusted and she finally caught sight of herself in the mirror. As she looked on, she realized that the dampness she had felt on her cheeks had not been sweat but were tears. The wet onslaught had flowed past her chin, soaking the collar of her t-shirt with a pale layer of foundation she had forgotten to remove the night before in her drunken state. Rhea sighed before turning her eyes down and flipped on the sink. She watched curiously as the water pooled in the cup of her hands before shoving it across her face. Repeating the process a couple more times before placing her hands on the counter and leaning fully over the sink. The harsh gush of the faucet a welcome buffer to the never-ending whirring that went on in her head.

For a while, she just stood and breathed. The yelling chorus of voices in her head eventually came down to a more gentle stage whisper. This allowed her to move her attention to something much more important than her many past lives. She needed coffee! With two harsh pats to her cheeks, Rhea straightened her back and shed her clothes.

The chill of the hotel hallway could be felt even through the thick cotton of her hoodie as she made her way down to the lobby. This hotel was not as nice as the other ones they stayed at in the much larger cities. This hotel chain’s buildings were always old, but now haphazardly disguised with a new coat of a rather jarring orange and baby blue paint combo whose ugliness Damian often bitched about during his hangover-fueled breakfast rants. He was a surprisingly chipper alcoholic on the morning after a long night of indulgence. Grumpy, but eloquent. Rhea would typically call him in the mornings and they would eat breakfast as a duo, since Finn and Dominik was particularly unpleasant if not allowed to rise of their own accord. This morning, however, she didn’t feel that she had the patience to deal with what Rhea knew would be a good-natured parental lecture about how she “actively suppressed her negative feelings”. Followed closely by an accusation of taking it out on her boyfriend who was no where near as strong as she was. Damian could do it later, once Rhea had been filled with a minimum of three cups of heavily sweetened coffee.

She stopped in her tracks just as she turned the corner into the lobby at the sight of a familiar face (or back rather). Jey Uso’s silhouette was hard to miss and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t snuck a handful of curious peaks backstage. He had his back to her, his arms hung bare through the cropped sleeves of his shirt and she could see the slight curve at the bottom of his spine that peaked out from the slit in the equally cropped bottom of his t-shirt. Her eyes moved back to the tattooed contours of his arms, the intricate line work shifting and bending with every minute flex. Art in motion. Rhea was always one to appreciate the artistry of a good tattoo. She and Jey had chatted enthusiastically at the club the night before about their many tattoos, though much of the conversation now only existed in jumbled scraps throughout her memory. His face had been so bright then. He had the type of smile that seemed to increase the light in a room when it reached his eyes. Brown eyes. Deep brown eyes that seemed to become molten when he spoke fondly of something. Though she rarely saw him speak much at all since she met him. She was surprised at her own attentiveness in that moment. When the fuck had she started to notice Jey Uso?

Rhea thought back to all the months before. All the confrontations, but nothing really stood out until yesterday. She’d known of him, but she didn’t know him. Even now, in the infancy of this new alliance. Last night was the first time she’d actually spoken to him outside of provoking him to Super Kick her in the ring. She looked at him wholly now. The coffee long forgotten as she pondered him. Apparently, this was a morning of way too much thought. But she’d worry about that later. Something about him drew her in. Made her want to know more as she continued to watch him prepare his breakfast. Now, leaning lazily against the counter as he waited for a paper cup to fill with orange juice. Rhea pondered Jey Uso’s appearance. His hair, his skin, his tattoos, his build. Once again, she had to admit that he was nice to look at.

However, that was never what truly interested her about him. There was a heat to him. Something buried so deep, yet burned so bright that you could narrowly manage to avoid getting scorched by it. A longing for something that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to figure out without asking him herself; something she’d never even dream of doing.

Rhea was brought out of her contemplation by the stiff jerk of Jey’s hand as he thrust it into his pocket. She looked on as he glanced around warily before pulling a small pill orange bottle out of his pocket. He hastily popped the white cap and levied the a couple tabs into his palm before tossing his head back and quickly downing the contents of his cup to chase it. Prescriptions from the looks of it. Considering who he fell under, she wouldn’t be too surprised if it was anxiety medication.

Jey bowed his head as he swallowed, the muscles of his back tensing under the thin black layer of his t-shirt. But it was his hand that truly caught her eye. The one not gripping the pill bottle lay open. She could see the patchwork of callouses that decorated the weathered skin there. But to her surprise, his hand was shaking rather violently. From the tips of his fingers to the curve of his shoulder. His whole body taught and coiled like a snake, poised to strike at the first sign of a threat. As her eyes made their way about him, she came to the unnerving realization that his feet were no longer facing away from her and when her head snapped up she was met eye to eye with him. The swiftness with which Jey moved had been what startled her initially, but her focus quickly pivoted to his eyes. No, what hid behind them. Or rather what didn’t. There was nothing there. A calculated emptiness. They both remained anchored in place. She wasn’t afraid to move nor was she afraid of him, but something was keeping her there. Something was keeping him there. Looked in at the eyes, but neither spoke. What was there to say anyway? Any individual with a single modicum of intelligence would tell you that it would be ill-advised to speak to someone who looked you the way that Jey was now. Like an animal. If he had gun it would be drawn. The empty heat she had been pondering before was now looking right at her and she couldn’t look away–

“Hey, Rhea!” Rhea was embarrassed to think about the rather indignant noise she made at the sound of Damian’s voice that called from down the hallway. She whipped around. Her face set into a glower that deepened as she noticed the crooked-toothed smile Damian flashed back at her.

“Yo, take it easy. Did I scare you?” he teased, nudging her suggestively with his elbow as he came to stand next to her. She turned her head dramatically, her face pinched into a pout as she shoved him back.

“Fuck off, Priest.” Her voice dripping with an exasperated fondness that she only ever offered to him. He shrugged before pulling his loosely tied robe closer around him and crossing his arms over his chest. His face the picture of amused curiosity as he said, “I called out a couple times and you didn’t answer. So, I got creative.”

Rhea blew air at her bangs, snorting a laugh as she said, “By creative, you mean loud, right?” He shrugged again, then he glanced behind her. Seemingly looking for something that he couldn’t find. She followed his gaze over her shoulder and almost audibly sighed in relief when she noticed Jey was no longer standing there glaring at her.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” she questioned with feigned innocence. Damian did seem to clock it in his hungover state, but he just shook his head. “Nothing. You just seemed lost in something.” he said matter-of-factly.

“Nah, just staring off into space waiting for our usual appointed breakfast date.” Damian scoffed, but made no objection to her explanation, moving past her toward the breakfast spread where Jey had once stood. She could still almost envision the perfect silhouette of Jey as he had been just moments before. A ghostly visage with some kind of death reflected in his eyes. An emptiness she now realized felt so familiar, because it was one she shared within herself. A loss of something. Of someone. A loss of innocence that only your greatest love can cause. A loss she’d felt twice but had been remedied by the new family she had now. Maybe Jey could use a new family too. She laughed out loud at the absurdity of the thought and Damian fixed her with a concerned look but made no moves to address it. She resumed her pondering. Jey was too loyal to be fooled out of leaving his family. An absurd thought on her part. Impossible at worst. Yet another thing she’d add to the long list she chose to worry about at a later time.

Or she was full of shit, because even as she made her plate and get several cups of coffee in her system (maybe there was a way to just inject it into her veins first thing in the morning instead. She’d have to do research on it.), her mind wandered back to Jey Uso. More alarmingly, Roman Reigns. A man she had yet to lay eyes on in-person yet loomed large over the union of the two factions. The deal had been made by him. Paul Heyman had just been the typical obedient messenger. When she considered it, Roman was largely responsible for the man that Rhea had narrowly avoided a confrontation with just minutes before. He had beaten Jey down so completely that he was left with only his instincts to guide him. A weapon Roman had sharpened to act as an extension of himself. Jey was no longer an individual, but a cog in the great machine that Roman Reigns had built his now vast empire out of.

Roman was a familiar shadow to her. Like her own mentor, who haunted her even now. Roman Reigns did not seem like the type who took kindly to betrayal. Those who grew brave enough to stand before him was put down expeditiously. It’s why the Judgment Day had agreed to the alliance. Why try and fight a god, just to lose everything, when he’s willing to make you kings? Their faction was still young and while they didn’t have much to lose, fear was enough. Perhaps Edge would be ashamed of them now. The man who thought he was bulletproof. The one who taught them to fear nothing, but he showed his weakness then. He made them too strong, too strong to need him and they took full advantage. They had felled the king who believed himself to be the same god that Roman was.

Still, maybe Roman’s time would be coming soon too. The tension radiated off all the members of the Bloodline in waves. Sami Zayn had opened a door inside a house that every believed to be forged shut with steel. A door no one had thought to check for. And answer to a question that she was sure none of the Bloodline had ever dared to ask.

But that was none of her business. What choices the Bloodline members chose to make didn’t matter to her. So long as they stayed out of her way.

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