#and i think practice can only take you so far as evidenced by all the people i studied with in my ux degree | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Note

I don’t know if this would be of interest to you to write for the AYW universe, but I’m kinda curious about Eddie & Brittany in the early years. Like Eddie’s reaction to becoming a dad for the first time, poor sweet Eddie trying to make things work with Brittany (I’m a sucker for angst, what can I say 🤷‍♀️) just a little insight to how our favourite mechanic was in the beginning

I love the opportunity this gave me to think about Eddie's past, especially in relation to his relationship with Brittany. @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write this with me and she came up with the best possible title for this story: It's Brittany, (The) Bitch

Warnings: childbirth, pre-Reader, Brittany being Brittany

Words: 4.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie pulls his rusted van into the driveway of the small shoebox that currently serves as the Munson residence. He’s been working overtime to help save up for a bigger house, proving difficult with childcare expenses already beginning to pile up despite the fact that the baby won’t arrive for two more weeks.

He takes a deep breath as he kills the engine, preparing himself for the daily crisis; sure enough, he hears Brittany yelling on the phone before he even sees her. It can only be one of a few people that she’s talking to, and he just hopes she’s at least sitting down in a chair and not pacing back and forth.

Eddie lets out a sigh as he steps into the kitchen to find Brittany basically walking laps around the kitchen as far as the phone cord allows, one hand holding the receiver and the other on her 38 week baby bump.

Careful not to interrupt her conversation—if one could even call it that—he clears his throat with a soft ahem. Brittany raises an eyebrow at him in question, to which he responds by nodding his head to the vacant kitchen chair closest to her.

Brittany looks irritated, but takes the seat nonetheless.

“I have told you,” she shouts into the phone as she lowers herself into the chair, “I don’t give a shit what you think Uncle Julian is entitled to, he’s not getting a goddamn dime of Dyeda Alex’s money.”

Eddie long ago learned that it’s all around better for him to stay out of whatever drama Brittany’s family is currently brawling about—and there always is something. If there isn’t, they’ll create it, as evidenced by the Great Cheesecake Battle of 1990.

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Brittany’s head, and she gives him a small smile as he walks out of the cramped kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. He cleans himself up from work, washing motor oil from his palms, and slips back into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Sometimes Brittany would make it, but Eddie’s been more and more insistent that she stay off her feet lately. Besides, Wednesday evenings mean that Wayne is coming for dinner; there’s something about providing a meal for the man who put his life on hold to raise him that warms Eddie’s heart. He only wishes that his cooking skills improved with practice, but based on the food he makes never tasting any better, they’re not.

He’s in the middle of tediously peeling potatoes when Brittany pushes herself up out of the chair, waddling over in the direction of the phone base on the wall. “If you tell her that, I swear on all that is holy, I will end you.”

Eddie smiles to himself as he goes back to the potatoes. He very well knows his wife means what she says, and her threat should not be taken lightly.

“Whatever. Bye.” Brittany slams the receiver down on the phone base and lets out an irritated groan.

“So,” Eddie starts off smugly, “how’s the Sobachkin family doing?”

“They’re all assholes,” Brittany mumbles as she walks over to get a water bottle from the fridge, chugging it like she’d just run a marathon.

Your sister is the biggest asshole of all, but you seem to love her, Eddie thinks as he washes off his hands, drying them on a nearby dishtowel.

“How was work?” Brittany asks as she plops herself back in her chair, already relieved to be off of her feet again.

“Okay,” Eddie says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Wish they’d fire Mark, though. He’s more trouble than he’s worth with all of us having to fix his mistakes every time.” Eddie glances over his shoulder and sees Brittany staring at her nails, tuning out his side of the conversation. He sighs and goes back to preparing dinner. His fault for thinking she might actually be listening to him, he thinks. “How’re you feeling?”

“Pregnant,” she says flatly, placing a hand on her stomach. “Remind me why I decided to have your kid again?”

Because you allegedly love me, he says to himself, biting back the retort to avoid her wrath. But he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking the same thing.

After a dinner of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes (neither of which were burnt, to Eddie’s delight), Eddie and Wayne sit on the front porch in identical wicker chairs. It’s a warm summer night, the fireflies occasionally blinking in the dusk, crickets chirping their familiar mating calls.

Brittany is inside resting; Eddie had asked if she wanted to come out with them, but she’d just wrinkled her nose and said it was too hot.

Wayne watches his nephew’s leg bounce up and down and his grip tighten on his can of Budweiser. They remain in silence until the older man can’t ignore it any longer.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on before you crush that full can of beer you got in your hand?”

Embarrassment paints a blush on Eddie’s cheeks, unable to deny the surge of relief flooding his body that Wayne brought it up. “Just…anxious, I guess.”

“‘Bout what?” Wayne asks, taking a swig from his own can.

“Becoming a dad. I mean, I had you raising me, but before that…” he bites his lower lip as he searches for the right words. “I’m worried I’ll be more like my old man than like you.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Eddie, you were meant to be a dad. And that kid is gonna adore you.” He offers a small smile as he recalls, “You’ve always taken care of people. Even back in high school, you were always looking out for the younger kids in that fantasy game club you ran.”

Eddie chuckles, but everything Wayne says is true. If he saw someone looking lost and lonely, he brought them into the fold. Don’t know how to play D&D? We’ll teach you. Welcome to Hellfire.

“I guess so. It’s different when it’s your own child, though.”

“I know you can handle it.” Wayne claps him on the back. “And I’m always here for ya. Whatever you need.”

Eddie smiles at him as Brittany comes outside, wearing the frown that seems to be permanently etched on her face.

“Eddie.” Her tone is clipped and irritated, though Eddie can’t remember doing anything wrong.

He quickly stands up, nearly spilling his drink. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

She rolls her eyes. “You left me inside by myself while you two bullshit out here.”

“Eddie just needed to talk to me,” Wayne tries explaining. “We were about to head back in.”

Brittany crosses her arms on top of her baby bump. “Forget it. Clearly, I’m not a priority for you.” She motions to Eddie. “I’m going to bed, and I want to lock up, so you can come in now or sleep outside tonight.”

Eddie bites back his anger. She’s having your baby; just be patient. “Yeah, let me just toss this…” He shakes the empty can.

Brittany huffs, waddling back into the house without even saying goodbye to Wayne.

Eddie stops and gives his uncle a long hug. “Next time I see you, I might be a dad,” he grins. “Scary to think about, isn’t it?”

Wayne chuckles. “Nah, kid; you’re gonna be great.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his words, before deciding to say what’s in his heart. “Listen, Ed; about—”

“Eddie! Let’s go!”

Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets. “I, uh, gotta get going. Thanks for coming over.”

Wayne slowly exhales as he watches his nephew shuffle into the house. “God, I hope he realizes he’s worth so much more than how she treats him.” He shakes his head and trudges to his car.

The sound of crying jars Eddie out of a peaceful sleep. His first instinct is that he needs to go check on the baby, only…the baby hasn’t been born yet. The fogginess of sleep clears away just enough for Eddie to realize it’s not the sound of a baby crying, and it’s coming from right next to him.

The moment he recognizes Brittany’s sobs (as he’s heard them many times over the course of this pregnancy), Eddie bolts up in bed and flicks his bedside lamp on.

“Britt? Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice hoarse from disuse.

Brittany’s shoulders shake as she cries into her hands, awkwardly—and probably uncomfortably—leaning back against her pillows. She tries to calm herself enough to speak, but she just keeps sputtering over her words. It makes Eddie even more nervous as he scoots closer to her and gently rubs his hand along her arm.

“T-The nursery isn’t done y-yet,” Brittany weeps before hiding her face back in her hands. She leans forward, bent in half as much as she can get with the swell of her belly so large.

The adrenaline coursing through Eddie’s body starts to calm down now that he realizes the life of his wife and child aren’t in danger. He yawns and reaches one hand over to rub soothing circles into the back of Brittany’s silky pajama top. Slowly, she pulls away from his touch and situates herself so she’s able to face him better.

“It’s not done yet!” she repeats, as if he didn’t hear her the first time. A hint of anger has joined the despair in her voice, the amalgamation of hormones creating another perfect storm.

Eddie lets out a sigh and runs a hand over his face. “Britt, I—”

Brittany doesn’t let him finish; she throws the blankets off of herself and starts pacing back and forth in the space between their bed and the wall. It’s not a large area, so really, she mostly looks as if she’s waddling around in a circle. Under different circumstances, Eddie might laugh.

“The baby could be here at any time and the nursery still isn’t finished!” A wail comes from Brittany’s lips and he knows that, as difficult as Brittany could be sometimes, this is fueled by hormones—not even she would be this worked up in her usual state.

Quickly, Eddie jumps out of the bed and walks around to her. He places his hands on her shoulders and stands in front of her so she can’t continue her walking. When she doesn’t look at him, Eddie ducks his head until their gazes catch.

“The walls are painted. The crib is put together. The shelves are up. Clothes are in the closet. All that’s left to do is put the last pieces of furniture together.” He tries to logic this out with her, hoping it’s the best course of action to get her to calm down.

“The dresser, the changing table, the toy chest…” Brittany rattles off the list.

“Which all can be done after the baby is born if it needs to be,” Eddie assures her. He cups her cheeks in his hands and takes a deep breath, wanting her to copy his actions.

Brittany begrudgingly takes a few deep breaths with Eddie, following his inhales and exhales until her system is a little calmer.

“They should be done before the baby is here,” Brittany says, sounding only slightly less upset than a few moments ago. She rubs at her runny nose and Eddie wipes a few stray tears from her face.

“We’ve got two weeks until your due date, hun. Don’t worry, it will get done.” Eddie truly believes this, but he knows his words probably don’t sound the most convincing since he was just jolted out of sleep.

Brittany nods but the emptiness in her expression leaves Eddie unsure if she actually heard his words or not. He’s too tired to question her on it though, so he gently leads her back to bed and helps her get situated. Or at least, as best as she can be this far along. Eddie knows how hard it’s been for her to get comfortable being this close to the end of the pregnancy, so he does anything he can to help.

Finally, Brittany is settled down in bed and Eddie goes back around to his side. He sits down on the edge of the mattress and flicks the lamp off. Regardless of the dark room, Eddie closes his eyes just to give himself a moment to try and compose himself.

By the sounds of the steady breathing, Brittany is already back asleep. These last two weeks were going to be hell for Eddie, he just knows it. They’re almost at the end of the tunnel when it comes to the pregnancy, but who knows what insanity will come along when the baby is finally here.

Figuring he should try to lighten the load that will be put upon him, he pushes himself off the bed and walks into the bedroom across the hall. Eddie tugs on the longest string connected to the ceiling fan and light floods the room, illuminating the partially completed furniture and the pale yellow walls. Eddie winces at how bright the lights are and tries to avert his gaze until he finds the small pile he put his tools into once he finished putting the crib together.

“Well,” Eddie sighs, “here we go.”

His stiff bones protest as he sits down on the floor. A few plush rugs are rolled up in the corner of the room, but since they’re not yet laid out, Eddie’s bony ass is about to be sitting on a hardwood floor the whole time. Pulling the necessary tools over to him, he gets to work on the remaining pieces of furniture.

By the time he’s done, he only has about an hour until his alarm goes off for work. The tightness and achiness in his body are even worse than they were before as he trudges back to bed, ready to take full advantage of those precious sixty minutes.

When his alarm goes off, Brittany gets up as well—she has to pee, unsurprisingly. Eddie takes a cold shower to try and wake himself up, and the moment he steps out of the bathroom, Brittany is sobbing and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He wasn’t expecting her to be there, let alone, coming at him with a force like that, so he staggers back a few steps as he holds onto her. He’s glad he tied the towel around his waist as securely as he did, or he’d be a lot colder standing there in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. Brittany sniffles as she pulls back and looks at her husband through watery eyes.

“You put the rest of the furniture together,” she says through some wetter sniffles.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, still half asleep.

Brittany just buries her head in his neck again. Eddie loosely drapes his arms around her waist and lays his head on hers. He’s pretty sure he almost dozed off that way when Brittany pulls back and wipes the tears from her rounded cheeks.

“Thank you, Eddie. I know I overreacted last night.”

Eddie knows it too, but he’s not dumb enough to say that out loud.

“You’re allowed to have emotional reactions to things, babe,” Eddie tells her. He softly trails his fingertips down the swell of her belly. “You’re carrying our baby. Kinda gives you a bit of a hall pass.”

A week later, Eddie’s finishing up a brake job at work when his boss tells him his wife is on the phone. Immediately, Eddie knows it’s about the baby. He could probably count the number of times that Brittany has called his work on one hand in all the years he’s been working here.

“Hello?” Eddie answers the phone, not caring that he’s getting black, greasy fingerprints all over the receiver.

“In labor,” Brittany pants out, clearly in pain. “M-Meet at the hospital.”

“I’m on my way, hun.”

Everything is a blur as Eddie washes his hands, punches out, and climbs into his truck. Brittany’s in labor. Which means the impending arrival of the baby is upon him. Eddie feels a little dizzy at the thought, which is probably not great since he’s going about twenty miles over the speed limit on the way to the hospital.

The truck is barely in park as Eddie hops out of it and jogs over to the hospital doors. He asks the woman at the front desk where the maternity ward is, and he keeps mentally repeating the directions to himself so that he won’t forget them.

A nurse tells Eddie that Brittany is in room 361 and points him in that direction. The only noise filling the sterile, white corridor is the occasional beeping of machinery from the different rooms, and the squeak of Eddie’s work boots on the shiny linoleum tiles.

The first person that catches Eddie’s eye when he walks into room 361 is Sandy, Brittany’s sister. It takes everything inside of him to keep the disgusted noise he wants to make to himself. She’s not really his focus right now though, so Eddie forgoes a greeting to push past and get to his wife. Brittany is lying in the bed, a hospital gown on, and what seems like dozens of wires connected to her.

“Hey,” Eddie says as he approaches the bed. “How are you—”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Brittany gripes, looking him up and down. A nurse steps into the room, walking over to read some of the numbers on the machines Brittany is hooked up to, so his wife leans in and says through clenched teeth, “This is a hospital, and our baby is about to be born. Go home and clean up.”

Eddie’s tired and frazzled. He figured Brittany would want him by her side while she’s dealing with this initial pain. But her face clearly tells a different story. Eddie looks down at his coveralls and sees the oil smudges and grease handprints all over it. He should change, but he can’t bring himself to leave.

“Go home?” Eddie asks, voice small and confused. “By the time I get there, get cleaned up, then back here, it might be too late. Babe, what if I miss the birth?”

Brittany doesn’t seem too concerned with this, simply shrugging her shoulders and eyeing every little speck of dirt on the dark blue jumpsuit he’s wearing.

The nurse who is inspecting the machines looks up at Eddie and gives him a smile. “It’s still going to be some time now before the baby is born,” she assures him. “How far do you live?”

“Uh, about ten minutes away,” if Eddie recalls correctly—which he thinks he does, there’s just a lot flying around his brain right now.

“Oh, you should be fine, sweetheart,” the nurse says, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s still not fully dilated yet.”

As reluctant as he is to leave, the nurse’s words make the hesitancy lessen a little.

“I’ll, uh, be back.” Eddie turns and heads out of the room. He follows the reverse directions that got him to the maternity ward, back to his car in the parking lot. With speed that any NASCAR driver would be jealous of, Eddie gets back to the house and jumps in the shower.

In total, Eddie was probably in the house for ten minutes. But to him it felt like eternity. He’s itching to be in that hospital room with his wife and zooms back down the way from where he just came.

When Eddie gets back up to the room, nothing has changed—except for his clothes and cleanliness. Brittany’s in the same position, same miserable expression on her face. But in what is a pleasant surprise, Sandy vacates the chair next to Britttany’s bed so he can sit at his wife’s side. Eddie gives his sister-in-law a nod of acknowledgment as he takes his seat.

Eddie reaches for Brittany’s hand, and this time, she lets him touch her. He presses a few kisses to her knuckles before he gives her a small smile.

“How ya feeling?”

“Like I’m about to shit a bowling ball,” she responds, flopping her head back against her pillow. She does give Eddie a small smile in return though, which has him questioning how much pain medication they’ve already given her.

“Did your water break?” Eddie asks.

Brittany nods and her eyes dart over to her sister. “Sandy came over to keep me company and went into the kitchen to get us something to drink, but as I went to sit down on the couch, I could just feel this trickle of water going down the leg of my pants.”

“I heard the pop and thought she knocked something over with her pumpkin of a belly again,” Sandy says from behind Eddie.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Eddie says. No matter how much he may dislike Brittany’s family, he does have to give credit to Sandy for always being a good big sister to Brittany.

The nurse from before wasn’t kidding when she said that Eddie would be fine to come home and then come back. The next couple hours just turn into a waiting game. Each time a nurse comes in, the three in the room will perk up and hope there’s some news about when Brittany can start pushing. But so far, no dice.

Eddie tries to talk with Brittany to keep her occupied and her mind off the pain. Anything that seems to come to his mind is deemed stupid by Brittany and she won’t carry a conversation. So, Eddie tries to get her to talk about things that she enjoys.

“Do you still want to see that surfer movie that’s coming out soon? Hmm? The one with Patrick Swayze, who you love so much. Should I be jealous?” Eddie smirks, to show he’s just playing around with her, but Brittany couldn’t care less.

“Do you honestly think I’ll be able to go to a movie theater at all this month, Eddie? Really? I think I’ll be a little busy being up to my eyeballs in dirty diapers,” she snaps.

Her constant putting-down of his attempts at conversations is wearing on Eddie. He clenches and unclenches his fist as he takes a deep breath. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now, he thinks to himself. Eddie nods to himself, as if he’s psyching himself up to take all of this in stride.

Finally, one of the nurses’ visits pay off when she brings a doctor in who informs them that Brittany is fully dilated. Now, the staff scrambles to get necessary tools that are needed and set up near the foot of the hospital bed.

“They couldn’t have done this earlier?” Brittany grits out through her teeth, low enough for only Eddie to hear.

“All right, Mrs. Munson,” the doctor says as he slips his hands into a new pair of latex gloves. “Are you ready to try pushing?”

“You’ve got this,” Sandy says. She walks over closer to the bed and Eddie can feel his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s grasping the bed rail. The nurse who told him that he had time to go home earlier is in the room now and must notice Eddie’s obvious distaste for Sandy. The nurse catches Eddie’s attention by walking into his peripheral vision. When he glances up at her, the nurse looks in Sandy’s direction, then back to Eddie. Her eyebrows raise and eyes widen, as if she’s asking, “You want this bitch gone?” Eddie gives a subtle nod of his head, and amongst the flurry to get the room ready, the nurse leans in so that Sandy and Brittany can hear.

“It looks like we’re going to try pushing now,” the nurse says, a sweet professional smile on her face. “Which means we can only have the father in the room.”

Part of Eddie knows he should feel bad. But he’s paying for this room, and he wants it to be just him and his wife welcoming this little bundle of joy to the world for the first time.

Sandy presses a kiss to the top of Brittany’s already sweaty head, and even pats Eddie’s shoulder before heading out the door to find a waiting room to relax in.

Eddie tentatively takes Brittany’s hand, unsure whether or not touching her is the right choice, breathing a sigh of relief when she accepts and squeezes the hell out of it. Maybe it’s to offset the pain—or to punish him for getting her pregnant in the first place—but he chooses to believe it’s because she sees him as a source of strength and support.

“You’ve got this, Britt. You’re strong as hell, you can do this,” he cheers softly, tears already prickling in his eyes in anticipation of meeting his child. “Come on, baby. Just a little bit more to go.”

Thirty minutes and nearly one broken hand later, shrill little cries fill the room. It’s the most beautiful music Eddie’s ever heard.

He cries as the doctor announces that Baby Munson is a healthy little boy, handing Eddie the clamp to cut the umbilical cord. His son—his son!—is still covered in blood and vernix, but he’s still absolutely perfect.

While the nurses take the newborn to clean him up and wrap him in a blanket, Eddie takes the opportunity to give his wife a kiss on her perspiration-soaked forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You did so, so well. And…and now we have a son.”

Brittany is exhausted, making her a bit more mellow, and she hums her approval. She moves her head to kiss Eddie, eyes starting to flutter closed from exhaustion.

Once the baby is all bundled up, the nurse hands him to Brittany, maternal instincts kicking in as she awakens to hold him. Eddie watches in complete awe, unable to comprehend that this baby is his son. A little being that’s half him.

When Brittany hands the baby to Eddie, he holds him close and starts crying again, this time through a beaming smile. The way his tiny body fits perfectly in the crook of his arms sends a surge of overwhelming joy through Eddie’s veins. He instantly knows that being a dad is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and is the best thing that ever will happen to him.

He brushes his forefinger against the baby’s knuckles, comically small compared to his own. “Hi there. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m your daddy.”

“Do Mom and Dad have a name picked out for this little guy?” The nurse asks with a grin.

Eddie nods; they had already decided on Ryan for a boy or Riley for a girl.

“Ryan Wayne Munson,” he announces proudly. He’d always planned to honor the man who had raised him, even if it meant arguing with Brittany, who had claimed the name was “too old-fashioned.” Eddie rarely put his foot down with his wife, but this was a matter he’d insisted upon.

Two hours later, between constant check-ins and breastfeeding demonstrations, Brittany is able to sleep. Eddie sits in the corner of the room, just holding Ryan. He stares down incredulously at the baby in his arms, unable to take his eyes off of him.

Softly, Eddie begins to speak to his son. “I promise you that I will be the best dad I can be for you. I won’t be perfect, but I will do my best.” He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It’s amazing how I’ve loved you since the moment I knew about you. And now you’re here, in my arms. God, I love you so much more than you will ever know. My little Ryan.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #AYW #AYWS

291 notes · View notes

justyourtypicaltuesday · 8 months ago

Text

So What's Up With Logan? - a speculating post for the season 2 finale

While I, like everyone else, am anticipating the season finale, I thought I might as well summarise my thoughts in a post.

In LNTAO, Logan outright explains he's irritated with being repeatedly ignored.

"There will be times in which I must be heeded and given our... current circumstances... I clearly haven't been."

This really stands out to me. It's no secret that due to being consistently talked over, shut up and disregarded, Logan's struggling to deal with his emotions- and keep up the facade he puts up pretending he doesn't have any. This is only evidenced further when he throws paper at Roman. But this quote almost feels like foreshadowing, suggesting that there will come a time Logan's the only side with the right answer, and because of the sides and c!Thomas' practice, they won't listen to him and will exacerbate the problem doing so.

Another interesting quote from LNTAO is hidden in plain sight- the overlapping verses from Logan and Thomas in Incomplete.

"This just serves as a testament to the fact that you have a temperament, which is fine, you just haven't accepted it, if you'd let them finish they'd get to the-"

"This just serves as a testament to the fact that to me you're negligent, which is fine, it just works to your detriment, you not letting me finish is proving my-"

Both verses here provide context into Logan's character. This confirms that c!Thomas is fully aware that Logan has emotions, specifically a temper, and that, in his eyes, the song was an attempt to get Logan to accept that part of himself. This could be setting up a very powerful scene in the finale, Janus and/or Thomas confronting Logan at a point when Logan pretending he doesn't have emotions is actually damaging Thomas as a whole.

Additionally, Logan feels neglected by Thomas. That's a word which is not used lightly. He points out that being ignored is actively causing detriment to Thomas, which he conveniently doesn't hear as he's talking (singing?) over him at this point in time.

They're both right. Logan is ignored to the point of detriment, but he also thinks highly of himself ("I'm the most important side here!") and often disregards the others' contributions until he's actively proven wrong. This is a repeated character flaw of Logan's. It's also seen Growing Up, Moving On, and even in Asides like Can Plushies Improve Our Health?. While Logan's been the cause of minor conflicts in the series, having him cause a problem on a scale similar to Patton in POF would be intriguing to see from a narrative standpoint. It's clear that in the latest episodes, Logan is struggling and maybe at some point soon, constantly being antagonised by c!Thomas and the other sides is going to have an effect.

This brings me to WTIT. This is the last plot-dependent episode we've had, so it naturally is where a lot of my theories are coming from. While we can see a lot of Logan's progress as a character- specifically in prioritising Thomas' mental health- we also see his lowest point so far. Thomas' mental health has been steadily declining since SvS, introducing Remus, the discussions during POF and this episode all make it obvious. And this is reflected in Logan. Despite taking precautions and relaxing the schedule so Thomas feels comfortable, Logan loses his cool when he yells at Remus. What the orange eyes mean is TBD, but Logan's emotions in that moment say one thing and one thing only: he can't keep it down much longer. Each time we see Logan lately, he's been more and more distressed. In LTNAO, he throws paper at Roman, in SvS he's left out. In DWIT he's exasperated the whole time trying to calm down the others. In POF he's clearly done with exerting any amount of effort getting them to listen to him. And here is the result of all that pent up anger.

"I just want to help Thomas become the best version of himself he can be, and in order to do that, he needs to listen to me. Unlike yours, my methods aren't the flashiest, and it's not very often I get the chance to get through to him. Please understand my insistence on the matter."

The words right before his outburst mean a lot too. Logan's been already established as a perfectionist, but here he outwardly admits his goal is to improve Thomas as much as possible. We've already seen c!Thomas second-guessing himself because of difference in opinion between sides, so here's an opportunity to explore Janus v Logan conflict. Logan questioning Janus' advice to Thomas to take it easy could mean that the rest isn't as effective as it could be and cause a problem they'll need to discuss. Logan's been largely absent from Janus-related episodes, so an argument in which Janus explains Thomas has worth as he is while Logan is focused on perfectionism and improvement is not unbelievable at this point in the story.

On the topic of Janus, I believe he's going to play a huge role in Logan's character development. The main thing holding Logan back is that he's lying to himself. He repeatedly insinuates and sometimes outwardly states that he doesn't have feelings, and both c!Thomas and Janus know this is a lie.

"I don't feel anything."

"Oh, of course you don't."

My theory is that Janus, as practically a living lie detector, is going to confront the sides about the lies they tell themselves, and being more truthful about themselves will help Thomas long-term. While this can be explored for each side, I'll save that for a post for another day and point out how specifically Logan's lie about not having feelings is already questioned multiple times in the series, setting it up to be confronted soon.

In conclusion, my speculations for the season finale are:

Logan's going to have another outburst- in full view of c!Thomas and the other sides this time, and it will have to be addressed.

Janus/Thomas and Logan are going to confront each other, Logan over being repeatedly ignored and sidelined, and the others over Logan consistently lying about not feeling emotions.

Logan is going to be the outright antagonist in at least one episode of the finale, along the lines of Patton in POF.

On the contrary, in one episode Logan will have the right answer, but be ignored because... well, duh.

Janus v Logan conflict is going to be a large plot point- addressing perfectionism and to what extent you should accept yourself as you are and to what extent you need to work on growth.

If you got this far, thanks for reading. It's my first post as a blog and I hope you enjoyed reading my guesses to what we'll see surrounding Logan in the finale. I'm planning on continuing with in-depth analysis of other sides and other theories I have, but so far this is what I've gathered in regards to Logan's direction at this point in the series.

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #ts logan #logan sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #sanders sides theory

58 notes · View notes

hopeymchope · 11 months ago

Text

Hope's Peak and... Whatever is Going on with the "Talents" They Study

Hope's Peak Academy! Where only the greatest talents are invited to focus on the areas in which they excel (and to be studied by the staff).

The people working at Hope's Peak Academy in Danganronpa (whether staff, scientists, or Steering Committee) are pretty consistently presented as being dedicated to researching and understanding the nature of talent. They talk like talent is this hazy concept that only certain people somehow possess, so they're out to crack the code of its mysterious origins.

We have top men working on the origins of talent right now. .... TOP. MEN.

Now, I know we all eventually learn just how much of a shitshow HPA was and how corrupt its primary operators were. But the evidence of their crimes is mostly focused on how they take their interest in "Talent" much too far. So long as it furthered the study of "talent," human experimentation, endangering the lives of students, and much, MUCH more were totally on the table as far as HPA's Steering Committee was concerned. Which is very bad, yes.

However! I think the issues with HPA's intentions ran even deeper. The people in charge weren't just corrupt; they were also stupid. And this is evidenced by many of the "talents" they identified and researched.

See, Hope's Peak makes no real distinction between the types of talent they identify and accept into their walls. Even though there's a MASSIVE DIFFERENCE between the talent of someone like Junko Enoshima vs. that of someone like Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. Y'know?

(I strongly doubt I'm the first to observe how bullshit some of these "talents" are. But since I can't find any other conversations about this on Tumblr, I'm going to move forward with making my own commentary. Sorry?)

BTW, consider this: If Komaeda were somehow born earlier and was an adult by the time the 77th Class entered HPA? He could've easily been one of the staff members putting Hajime into that metal coffin.

In descending order of "I can see why they were interested" to "WTF is this," here are the four core types of Super High School-Level "Talents" that Hope's Peak Academy welcomes within its hallowed halls:

(DISCLAIMER: I include V3 students as some of the examples cited below. YES, I know they don't attend Hope's Peak in their game's main storyline. However, they attend Hope's Peak in both UTDP and DRS. That's good enough for me; you can always ignore those examples if you disagree.)

CATEGORY (A) Talents that seem to come innaately/naturally to those who have them. These are either your wunderkind types, or they otherwise gained their talent seemingly overnight. — (e.g., Yasuhiro Hagakure, Junko Enoshima, Nagito Komaeda, Miu Iruma)

My Thoughts: Okay, SURE. I get why you'd want to study how this can happen and where these kinds of skills come from. No notes.

CATEGORY (B) Talents that are developed over a lifetime of practice and/or hard work. Most Hope's Peak students we know about seem like they slot into this category. — (e.g., Nekomaru Nidai, Mikan Tsumiki, Kaede Akamatsu)

My Thoughts: My first reaction is "What is there to study/research about this?" Do the Hope's Peak staff not know that working on something for a long time can make you get way better at that thing? Y'all reminding me of Hajime in the now-classic @reddpenn comic where he is legitimately shocked to learn people can gain skills through practice. :P But HOLD UP; let's give them the benefit of the doubt here for a sec. Perhaps Hope's Peak's personnel are wondering why only some practitioners of these talents can reach such a noteworthy level of skill by the time they're teenagers? That's the most reasonable conclusion to draw about the inclusion of these students.

CATEGORY (C) Talents that are only noteworthy because these students demonstrated some above-average skill relative to their age or because they garnered attention through one specific incident. In other words: These individuals aren't nearly as exceptional as those in the previous two categories of talent, but at least they seem pretty decent at what they're being identifed for? — (e.g., Mahiru Koizumi, Shuichi Saihara, Kaito Momota)

My Thoughts: I hope I'm being clear enough about what I mean by this category. But if not, I'll try to clarify: Shuichi was supposedly recognized for his talent solely because he caught one murderer. Mahiru's photography is almost solely portrait photography and therefore not particularly noteworthy to most photographers; she's just pretty good at the one thing she happens to do. (And in truth, her mom's reputation probably played a role in her own Hope's Peak invite.) Kaito being able to pass a basic Astronaut screening exam at a younger age than is usually allowed is neat, but it's not like he's been an exceptional trainee or even gone into space; he's just the "Ultimate Astronaut" because he cheated his way into taking a test early and did surprisingly well at it. Maybe we're meant to think "Oh, Kizakura or whoever could somehow tell these students have the innate potential to be truly spectacular" or somesuch?? But that interpretation requires putting a lot of faith in this questionable-ass system (and the one HPA scout we're familiar with — a known alcoholic). Do these people REALLY demand further study? Is there ACTUALLY anything to be gained by learning about their "talents"??? I... can't see it, y'all. I don't get it.

CATEGORY (D) Talents that aren't even really a talent at all, they're just a position/title someone gained by being born. — (e.g., Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Sonia Nevermind, Keebo)

LIVE HINATA REACTION

My Thoughts: Okay, so MAYBE Sonia was recognized by Hope's Peak as the the absolute pinnacle of refinement and royal behavior or something? But I kind of doubt it based on her actual behavior (and weird interest in serial killers) in DR2. And there's no way in hell that Fuyuhiko is the baddest-ass Yakuza, even among teenagers. You scratch that kid slightly. and you get the babychild undernearth. And Keebo? His talent is HIS OWN EXISTENCE. His "talent" is actually just his creator's talent, FFS. He's not even "High School"-AGED in reality; he's just programmed to operate at a mental capacity of approximately teenage-level. So ultimately, I'm asking: What is there to STUDY about any of these?! These aren't even TALENTS, frankly! These have got me wondering if there's some other reason to include these particular students... like perhaps Hope's Peak wants to extend their tentacles into the power/influence afforded by Novoselic royalty/the Yakuza? Or perhaps they wish the leverage Keebo's A.I. technology in their own pursuit of creating of an "Ultimate Talent"? Point is: THESE 'TALENTS' ARE SEVERELY SUS. (I have to wonder if the larger public and Reserve Coursers ever complained about how sketchy some of this shit sounds?? SURELY they did.)

ADDENDUM/NOTE: There are also those who hover between the various categories I've cited. This includes those who might be a mixture of two categories, or those whose background is hazy enough that it's not clear whether they always had their talent (A) or developed it over time (B). But I think the above list encompasses everyone we know about, either in one or multiple categories.

CONCLUSION: Hope's Peak is so vague and weird about what they define as "talents" that it's tough to say what on Earth they believe they're studying over there. Because the methodology they were employing for identifying these talents is super loose, they're inviting over SOME fascinating subjects right alongside a bunch of teenagers who... really can't reveal much of anything about anything?

How did Junko Enoshima learn to easily analyze the patterns all around her to the point that she was able to accurately predict most outcomes? GREAT question! You may genuinely be able to unravel something about inborn skillsets and unusual brain development from such a case.

How did Mahiru Koizumi become a great photographer? Uhhh, she observed some stuff from her mom and just tried a decent amount of portraits, I suppose. But she's not even that amazing frankly, she ain't taking any award-winning pictures or using any particular artistry. She's just good at smiling portraits. That's it. You ain't gonna learn shit from this.

How did Fuyuhiko become the Ultimate Yakuza? Because YOU decided he was! And that was just because of his inherited leadership role! He has NO special talent, wtf are you idiots doing?!?!

ANYWAY, that should cover all of the Hope's Peak students we've ever me—

Oh, right. There's ONE weird half-exception to this list, which I guess I'll explain for anyone who wants to be extracirricular about this topic.

BONUS! Outlier Case: Makoto Naegi (in DR1 only)

My Thoughts: In the original Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, the player/viewer/reader is made to believe that Makoto Naegi possesses no talent at all. Instead, Naegi was merely this year's winner of the annual drawing at Hope's Peak, and THAT IS IT. He was just drawn from a proverbial hat, and his presence is just a randomized factor. And SURE, by the end of the game/manga/anime, he's declared the "Ultimate Hope," but it's not like he was brought into the school based on that talent, so that's not particularly relevant. What I'm saying is simply this: DR1-era Naegi is the only known Hope's Peak student who doesn't fit into the above four categories. ............ Though this was later retconned, of course. Stories such as Makoto Naegi's Worst Day Ever (which came out alongside the first release of DR2, a mere two years after DR1 first hit PSP) and Danganronpa 3 would state that Naegi always possessed some unpredictable form of Komaeda-style inborn "luck" even if he wasn't necessarily aware of it. Which slots him into category (A). AS SUCH, he was only an outlier for literally THE FIRST INSTALLMENT OF THE SERIES. And since the first installment didn't really delve as much into the sketchy, obsessive ways the Hope's Peak scientists chose to study their roster of "talents," his outlier nature isn't really relevant anyway. I don't feel any need to justify "Makoto Naegi as portrayed in 2010-2011 continuity" for his inclusion in the class roster.

..........................but if I DID have to do that, I'd say including him among the students makes him the Control Group. :P

#danganronpa meta #danganronpa #danganronpa longreads #longreads #longread #personal essays #dr1 spoilers #dr3 spoilers #dr2 spoilers #drv3 spoilers

61 notes · View notes

landinrris · 7 months ago

Note

just an observation on which i would welcome your thoughts. @bohnes on IG posted a story pic from martin's afterparty wearing an f1 helmet with the text "when you ask the formula 1 driver to let you wear his helmet at the party". based on pics from others who were there (@jeroenmul, story pic captioned smth like @martingarrix house party), this party was at Martin's place. so, i ask: why is lando's helmet in martin's apartment? thank you for your time, i'll hang up and listen.

Isn't that the question of the evening... I was talking to Josie about it a bit earlier, and we were trying to figure out what helmet that was but have largely come up empty (It'd be a lot more helpful if we could see a side shot... but alas). Image searching just the helmet portion of the Instagram story didn't help either. As you can see, Lando's most commonly referenced karting helmet isn't this design.

Because that's definitely Lando's signature, and as you mentioned, they're at Martin's house. I don't honestly know what the actual answer would be... like I legitimately can't think of a reason why there'd be a helmet with Lando's signature on it in Martin's house.

The potential rational reasoning: DFK Racing is a Belgian karting team who have some of the LN Karts racing for them. As far as I know, Lando never raced with them as he was coming up through the ranks. The only thing I can think of is that maybe it's one of the LN Karting kids' helmets that Martin has through them and that's why Lando's signature is there? But again, I'm not really clear on how Lando does his business with them other than when we occasionally see him post about it.

The fun chaos reasoning: The chaos part of my brain says it's a bit of a joke between Lando and Martin for Martin to have a helmet with Lando's signature on it in and amongst his things. Another fun chaos option is that Lando's got a stockpile of helmets stashed at Martin's house beyond what's in Monaco because there's more room and he practically lives there between race weekends, so why not? And they're all obviously drunk enough (as evidenced by being unable to take a non-blurry pic) that someone got into things they weren't supposed to and started taking photos.

#like...what? many many questions #ask #lando #martin #norrix

10 notes · View notes

angelofrainfrogs · 6 months ago

Text

Into the Pit: Ch. 3

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: He should be in the Daycare.

Gregory emerges from the ball pit to find not the bright, rainbow room he’s accustomed to, but a house with a huge backyard and a kiddie pool of plastic “water.” Calling for Gregory is a familiar voice—Michael. Only this time it’s not Charlie or Freddy by his side, but someone completely new. And why do they insist on calling him their son?

Gregory soon comes to realize this existence is vastly different from anything he remembers. Perhaps these last few weeks at the Pizzaplex have all been a dream…?

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Thankfully, Gregory was pulled from his reverie as Jeremy posed a very important question.

“So,” the blonde started, running his thumb on the outside of Michael's palm while he spoke. “Are we doing pizza at Freddy's again tonight? Or are we going home for food?”

“Pizza...?” Gregory echoed, chasing away intrusive and betraying thoughts of unreality.

“Pizza it is, then,” Michael confirmed, meeting Gregory's gaze in the rearview mirror with a smile. The boy was being quieter than usual, a far-off look in his eyes that Mike hadn't seen in a while. He was thinking about something—likely that too-real dream he had that left him totally off-kilter for the day.

“...You know what?” Mike quirked an eyebrow, his mouth widening into a sly grin. “I think this day calls for a kitchen-sink-slush—provided we can keep out of Sam's sight. He hates it when we 'waste product' like that...”

The last part was said in a slightly mocking tone, though it was all in jest as evidenced by the twinkle in his eye. Despite Sam's reservations about raiding the soda machines to make the deadly concoction, he was always willing to turn a blind eye if the situation really called for it. Today was certainly one of those days—one mention of Gregory having bad dreams, and Mike knew Sam would straight up disable the kitchen cameras if needed so he didn't have to see his stock depleted.

Meeting Gregory's slightly confused gaze in the mirror again, Michael asked: “What do you think, Greg? Feel like rotting your teeth out with sugar today?”

Gregory perked up, very, very interested in the name alone. He met Jeremy's quick gaze in the rear-view mirror before the older man focused back on the road.

“It's been so long—how does that sound, kid?” Jeremy asked, trying hype up their son for what would be a fun trip to the Pizzaplex. Especially if the cousins were there with their parents. The only issue was finding parking on a Saturday...

“Hell yeah!” Gregory said, grasping the little musical robot on his shoulder and clipping the new friend to his belt for safekeeping.

“—Heck yeah, Greg. Come on, man.” Jer laughed. He was just glad to see Gregory coming out of the funky mood; it was hard to seriously scold the kid when he was having a fun time. After squinting at the full Pizzaplex parking lot, Jeremy glanced sidelong at his husband. “Is it right—morally—to park in the employees’ spots on my day off?”

“Jer, we practically live here,” Michael pointed out dryly. “I don't think we're gonna get in trouble with the boss if we take up a space. Plus, look—my father's already done it.”

Sure enough, there was William's bright car two spots over from them. The man himself was nowhere to be found, already wandering through the massive mall in search of his family or old business partner. Though he wasn't technically employed by the Pizzaplex, he and Henry were considered lifetime members—meaning they could do pretty much whatever they wanted. William certainly took advantage of this fact, to the great annoyance of his eldest.

With a little shake of his head, Mike unbuckled himself and hopped out before moving to open Gregory's door, snagging his hand when he exited as well. Locking up the vehicle, Jeremy was quick to join Gregory's other side, completing a three-person circuit with their son in the middle. As one they stepped through the sliding doors and entered the air-conditioned lobby of the Pizzaplex, keeping their eyes peeled for friends and family among the hundreds of guests milling about.

Everything was... the same. The decorations and vintage style décor that Gregory was familiar with graced his vision, bright neons calling out and dividing his attention every which way.

Getting through the lobby was a lot for him. Many kids were trying to get their admission stamps and parents, tired but patient, were attempting to reign in their hyperactive excitement. Gregory squeezed onto both his dads’ hands, finding himself saying honestly: “I hate crowds.”

“I know, bud. We'll be through the doors in a second! You're doing really well!” Jeremy encouraged. Since starting therapy, the constant encouragement was helping Gregory’s attitude and the way he coped in stressful situations. Reaching out, Jeremy pushed open the door and held it for his family to pass on through and into the atrium.

“Sam's gotta be in his office with all this going on,” Jeremy remarked, knowing Sam well enough at this point to correctly assume he’d leave the customer interactions up to Charlie and the Glamrocks.

Meanwhile, down by Rockstar Row, Charlie was in fact helping out with the customers. Parents didn't realize that you don't come into the Daycare and openly berate the attendant in front of the General Manager. Since taking up customer relations, she'd found that being more assertive came more naturally to her.

It did help when you had a 7 foot tall Moon-Man standing behind you for back up, though.

“Ma'am, we don't use excessive language like that here. If you can't behave properly in the Daycare, you're banned! That's it. Please sign the release form for your child and—”

“No! This is bullshit! I want my money back for the hour they spent here,” the irate patron argued. Charlie wished she could ban the woman from even existing at all, but that wasn't something she was about to say in front of other customers. “You can't possibly be the General Manager with that attitude, missy! Find me the real one so I can have him can your ass!”

Charlie bit her tongue hard, managing a decently straight face until she saw the familiar shape of the Fitz-Afton family heading towards the Daycare.

“Hm, he's off the clock. But I'm sure he'd love to speak with you. Mr. Fitz-Afton! Some assistance, please?” Charlie called, hating to do this on his day off.

Gregory squinted hard. Did he need glasses or was that lady... Charlie?!

She was older, certainly. Her big eyes still held that youthful countenance Gregory knew and loved, though her face had lengthened and thinned out with age. Honestly, he might not’ve recognized her were it not for her clothes. Despite being theme-appropriate for the Pizzaplex, the tomboyish style was something he could have seen her wear in his dream.

“Ooh, look—trouble already.” Though Michael’s words indicated annoyance, his face showed that he was fired up. No one was rude to Charlie on his watch. He smiled down at Gregory and released him, tone cheery as he cracked his knuckles. “Be right back!”

Michael didn't like conflict by any means. He simply found that sometimes it was easier to handle people with the curt edge that only his father could've raised him with. Stepping up next Charlie, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement as he turned a suddenly-cold smile on the irate mother. “Hello, ma'am—what seems to be the problem?”

“Oh, for god's sake—I'm not going to explain it again! I just want my damn money back!” the woman hissed, and from the darkness behind him Mike heard a little tut of discomfort.

“She's in quite the mood, Michael... such naughty language near all these impressionable little ears,” Moon muttered softly. Holding his hand was the woman's daughter, standing half in the dim light of the pick-up area and looking very upset.

“Well, I'm sorry our services weren't to your satisfaction,” Michael continued easily, his smile showing far too many teeth. Taking the release form from Charlie's hand, he held it out again. “As my General Manager told you, unfortunately you've been banned from the Daycare for use of foul language. In any event, no refunds are offered unless proven neglect or injury occurs on our end, which doesn't seem to be the case here. Please sign the release form—”

“Oh, fuck this!”

In a fit of rage the woman smacked the clipboard out of Michael's hands, sending it clattering across the floor. A blanket of silence settled over the Daycare, save for the bright, ambient music that played in the background during opening hours.

“...Charlie—” Michael began, the friendly mask now completely gone. “—can you please radio security and ask which of our Glamrock friends is closest and available? We need a guest escort.”

Oh no—she did not just smack the clipboard out of Michael Fitz-Afton’s hand. With the speed of one of those sharpshooting cowboys in an old spaghetti western, Charlie flipped a walkie-talkie from her belt and spoke into it.

“Any band members nearby? We need security by Superstar Daycare. We've got a Karen,” she said calmly, watching as the nuclear reactors melted down inside the mother's head. The rage was only being held back by a very thin shred of awareness as Michael's far too friendly smile had dropped into an instantly pissed off demeanor. Charlie loved it when he did that, even if it admittedly creeped her out. It always took people off-guard and their reactions made up for an otherwise stressful day.

Over the radio, there was an immediate response from the toughest girl in the mall. Roxy growled over the static: “You in trouble Charlie? Monty and I are at the end of Rockstar Row!”

Gregory balled his free hand into a fist. Getting ready to watch the Glamrocks fight some rude Mom would be a great way to start the day off. Jeremy hated these sort of parents as much as the next guy, but watching it all go down was not something he liked doing—especially with his own impressionable kid at his hip. All he ever did was think of how rough it must be for the child to watch their parents have a meltdown when they couldn't admit they were in the wrong.

“Nuts to this, Greg; let's not watch this. It might get messy,” he advised, much to his son's chagrin.

“But they're gonna beat her up!” Gregory protested, making his dad roll his eyes good-naturedly while he chose to escort his son just a little farther away.

“Right—well when they start putting wrestling moves on her, I don't want Monty tagging you in,” he teased back. The woman didn't like the idea of being kicked out with force, and was half-inclined to start filming with her phone before Roxy and Monty came stomping over.

“Alright—” Roxy huffed, making sure her mane was tied back in a loose pony tail since people have on rare occasion grabbed for her and pulled locks of well-groomed hair from her synthetic scalp. A scan and a quick profile search in, and Roxy was quick to demand that: “Veronica? You and your daughter Mandy have to come with us to the exit now. You're on temporary ban for the next seven days.”

“Oh, shut up!” Veronica exclaimed, though her demeanor was noticeably shaky as she stared up at the huge robots with far too many teeth.

“I’d listen to them if I were you,” Michael advised, all traces of a smile gone as he crossed his arms over his chest. “These two are not very patient when it comes to rowdy parents…”

“Y-You can’t touch me!” the woman insisted as the animatronics took a step closer in unison. “I’ll sue—”

“I can’t, but they can—as our security system, they’re programmed to remove threats. And you, ma’am, have just used physical violence against me and are now considered a danger to the other patrons.” Michael shrugged; it was as simple as that. He was tired now and just wanted to spend some quality time with his family. With a lazy wave of his hand, he instructed: “Monty, will you please remove this woman from the premises? Roxy, take her daughter out as well.”

“You got it, Mike!” the gator bellowed, wasting no time in grabbing the woman—carefully, as his programming made it 98% impossible to cause accidental harm to humans and 100% impossible to cause intentional damage—and hoisting her to rest over a shoulder pad. She’d be relatively comfortable if she wasn’t literally kicking and screaming. Monty simply held firm, his tail swaying to counterbalance the angry woman’s thrashing.

“Alright, little moonbeam, it’s time to go with Miss Roxy now,” Moon said in that hushed, gravelly voice. He too hated children seeing their parents act up, but sometimes it was unavoidable. With gentle prompting, he passed the tiny girl over to the wolf, who was quick to take her hand in Moon’s stead.

“Okay, sweetie! We’ll be outside in no time!” Roxy promised, whisking her away while attempting to make the girl smile. It was always hard letting these kids go with people who themselves acted like children. There was nothing more she could do, though. Roxy wasn’t programmed to be a permanent caretaker, after all.

Charlie was thankful for Mike’s intervention, though hated that no one believed the woman when she asserted her title as General Manager. Resting her tried forehead against his shoulder, Charlie sighed in relief. “Thank you! That lady was a nightmare!”

Luckily the nightmare customers were few and far between. She then saw Jeremy on the approach with one of her favorite kids, and Charlie’s stressed expression instantly flipped to one of happiness.

“Are we doing family day?!” she asked, a little spark of the young Charlie that Gregory knew peeking through the wisdom-aged glint in her eyes. “You guys picked a good day! Evan’s hanging out with Sam and Dad in the office.”

“Sweet! You feel like taking a break and joining us?” Jeremy asked, ready to convince her—but after that interaction, Charlie didn’t need to be swayed and responded with an eager nod before he finished his sentence.

“Perfect!” Michael exclaimed, his smile easy-going and content. “Yeah, I asked Liz and Evan to meet us here. My dad’s wandering around too, though by now he’s either found Henry or is horribly lost again.”

“Uncle Will? Getting lost? What—no, he has the mind of steel-trap remember?” Charlie snickered, drawing a chortle from Jeremy at the wild things they’d quote William saying.

Will’s ability to go anywhere in the Pizzaplex came at a cost: the building was so massive compared to any prior Fazbear establishment, it was easy to take a wrong turn in the employee hallways and end up in some liminal-feeling back room. It didn’t happen that often nowadays, though Mike would still get the occasional call from his dad while on duty to:

“Hurry the hell up and get me out of here, Michael! I’m not getting any younger…”

This thought tangent made Mike let out a snort, though he shook his head at the other’s questioning gazes and began walking towards Sam’s office. He made sure to keep Gregory’s hand securely in his own the whole time.

“Bye, Moon!” he called as the group made their exit through the darkly-lit area.

“Bye everyone; thank you, ehehehe,” the lanky animatronic cackled, paying special mind to the younger boy. “Good to see you, Gregory!”

Ah, the good old Daycare attendant. They didn't seem out of the ordinary with their mannerisms. Same with Roxy and Monty—from the short glimpse Gregory had been able to get, they’d seemed like their normal selves.

“Bye Moon! I'll hang out with you later!” he replied. Who knew—maybe the more talkative Sun could help fill in the gaps of his memory.

The closer the group drew to the office, the harder Gregory clung to them. Although outwardly he was smiling and content, the boy held reservations. What else was different from what he remembered? It wasn’t necessarily the changes, but the uncertainty of it all that bothered him the most.

Charlie hadn't bothered knocking, letting herself into the office and holding open the door to Sam's little executive clubhouse and personal workspace. Her and Michael's fathers were sitting at the workbench in the corner, playing cards and drinking from short, clear glasses. Relaxing at the couch was a severely-less stressed looking Samuel. Even the grey streaks in his hair seemed minimal from the last time Gregory saw him. Now that Charlie resembled her real age, Gregory could see why they were twins.

“Oh no, not these guys!” Samuel groaned teasingly, getting up to come and greet the rest of the family. Seeing Sam this energetic almost gave Gregory whiplash.

“Yup, trouble has officially arrived!” Mike announced, releasing Gregory to hook an arm around Sam’s neck and give him a noogie. While Sammy fought off his old friend, another familiar-yet-new face came up to meet them.

“Hi, Jeremy!” Evan greeted warmly, going for the blonde first since his biological brother was preoccupied. His face really hadn’t changed much from when he was a kid—it was a bit thinner and covered in laugh lines like the others', but putting him and Gregory next to each other would still show an uncanny resemblance.

After giving his brother-in-law a hug, Evan knelt down in front of Greg with a soft smile. If there was anyone who understood the boy’s emotional intricacies, it was the man who’d cried at his own shadow when he was a kid.

“Hey, mini-me!” Evan chuckled in that same soft tone Gregory knew, just deepened a bit with age. He held out his arms, always offering a hug but never offended if it wasn’t reciprocated, a wide grin crinkling the corners of his dark brown eyes. “How’s my faaaavorite nephew today?”

Gregory was almost speechless. This was... Evan?! Aged by forty-odd years and taller than he ever expected the kid to get if he was alive.

Alive—

Of course he was alive. Shit, that dream had really messed with Gregory’s head.

Gregory fell forward and gave Evan the biggest squeeze around the shoulders he could. No longer were they the Pizzaplex twins, but uncle and nephew. Burying his face into Evan's shoulder, Gregory realized that even if this all was some manner of strange hallucination, he was glad to be in a reality where everyone was living.

“I'm so much better now,” he said with confidence. Everyone was happy and safe; it was something he never thought he’d see. Over Evan's shoulder, Gregory watched as William folded down his cards and quickly batted Henry playfully on the arm.

“You're cheating, Hen—where's the cards in your sleeve? You can't use my own tricks on me!” William could be heard saying over his own laughter as he patted down Henry's sleeves for extra cards on his person.

Sam was put in a helpless headlock, struggling to break free from Michael's grip as Charlie watched on, laughing at the two goons she'd spent her entire life with. You'd think after so many years she'd grow tired of Sam and Michael always trying to one-up each other with their wrestling moves. Yet here she was, still giggling like it was backyard wrestling at the Aftons’ in '83.

Gregory closed his eyes, unsure if he wanted to let go of Evan just yet, gripped by an emotion he seldom felt. It was a complete feeling. Like, for once, everything was right with the world.

As Jeremy recognized the long look in his gaze, he warned Evan: “Uh-oh; he's not gonna let go of you now, you know.”

To which Gregory went back and hid his face in Evan's arm. Something Jeremy found so dang cute.

“That’s fine with me!” Evan replied with a chuckle. He had no idea what happened this morning, but it was clear the kid had been spooked. He wasn’t usually this clingy… not that Evan minded in the slightest. Still—

“Although at some point you’re gonna have to fight the triplets off,” he remarked, his eyes growing softer at their mention. Finally done pestering Sam, Michael had tuned into the conversation at just the right time.

“Oh, are they here?!” he asked with a grin. “How’s Kelley doing, by the way?”

Evan’s little triplets just turned seven and were the light of his life, not to mention a top highlight of everyone else’s. Two boys and one girl made the house he shared with his wife Kelley buzz with energy—and it was about to get even livelier with another kid on the way.

“Yes they are, and she’s doing great,” Evan replied brightly, standing up when Gregory finally released him. He didn’t move though, putting a hand on Gregory’s head as comforting reassurance for whatever the kid was going through. “Cassidy’s actually with them right now since Kel picked up a last-minute shift—last I heard she was trying to wrangle them into Mazercise.”

Kelley was only a few months along, so she was still able to perform her job as an NP in a small clinic. She was one of the top practitioners, which meant she was often called in to cover shifts when others couldn’t. If not for his best friend stepping in as surrogate aunt when Liz wasn’t around, Evan didn’t know what he’d do…

“We’ll have to stop by and see them later!” Mike promised. When his gaze shifted to Gregory, the boy’s face yet again showed immense confusion. This time he was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t as good at that as he thought he was—not to his dads, at least.

Gregory had caught Michael’s worried glance and tried quickly to wipe the look of surprise off his face. Four kids… Four? Maybe even more if Evan had another set of multiples.

Gregory was still confused beyond a doubt, but at least the sad boy he met in the basement of the Pizzaplex seemed to be doing pretty well these days. These weren’t just any kids Evan had, either—they were apparently Gregory’s cousins, too. His family was suddenly way bigger than it was before, with more members to expect on the way. He had an Aunt Kelley, and Cassidy was still in their lives, apparently unable to leave Evan alone even without the entrapment of their shared Fredbear tomb.

“Where is Liz, anyway?” Gregory decided to ask, figuring it was normal to question while he tried his hardest not to appear lost in the verbal sauce.

“She’s in her little workshop—you know how we’re trying to get an extension on the mall? Liz is drawing up designs for the Glamrock Circus characters,” Sam revealed, knowing the upcoming secret project was safe in this room.

“I don’t know why you kids want to keep bringing back the 80’s. You all were so eager to get out of that era, and now you can’t leave it alone…,” William voiced, sorting the cards while looking to Henry to see if he agreed. Surely he wasn’t the only one who remembered how fast they all wanted to grow up.

“Much as I hate to admit, Will’s got a point,” Henry conceded, smiling gently even as his leg was kicked under the table and he returned the gesture tenfold. “I think it’s the nostalgia factor.”

“Hey, we might’ve been annoying kids, but we were happy for the most part,” Michael laughed, nudging Evan to make him agree.

��Mm, for the most part,” he hummed, giving Mike a knowing look. There’d been a short period of time where Michael fell in with the wrong crowd as a teen and bullied Evan near-relentlessly… but one day he came to his senses, ditched his “friends” and apologized to his brother for being such a shithead, and the rest was history. Even so, Evan never quite let Mike live that unfortunate part of their lives down—though nowadays it was only spoken of in teasing reminiscence.

Michael Afton could never be so mean.

“You should go see her—I’m sure Lizzie needs a break!” Henry encouraged, glancing up from the table after slapping a card down and grinning at Will’s outraged cry.

“I’ll go with you!” Evan volunteered, raising one hand while ruffling Gregory’s hair with the other. “Might as well track down those little rascals afterwards before they or Cassidy lose their minds…”

“Oh, please; Cas already lost that years ago,” Charlie reminded the group. The pair hadn't always been on the best of terms as kids, but after realizing they’d be in each other’s lives for the foreseeable future the girls were able to work through their differences. “June should be hanging out with them in Mazercise. You better go say hi.”

Charlie said it like a warning, but the smile in her eyes let Gregory know it wasn't so imperative. Gregory knew at this point he would have to start responding to these things. Michael and Jeremy were growing increasingly more aware that something strange was going on with him, and Gregory didn't want to raise anymore alarm bells.

“Is it cool if we both get sodas?” he asked, thinking a more neutral answer was safe for now.

Charlie, not suspecting much, told him: “Sure! You brought your Best Friend Card right? If you didn't, I've got some cash—”

“No worries Charlie! I've got Gregory's card,” Jeremy interjected. Always prepared, he dug into his beat up old wallet and pulled out Gregory's all-access pass.

“Anyone else coming with?” Michael question. He met Jeremy’s gaze, eyes twinkling playfully. “Besides you, of course—I’m stuck with you.”

Jeremy matched the grin to a tee, replying in a rather smug tone. “You couldn't get rid of me for over 20 years, dude; of course you're stuck with me. Also, I hid the receipt.”

“I've got payroll to do—plus babysitting these guys,” Sam responded to Michael’s question, nodding to the men playing cards behind him.

When Gregory glanced over, William had smoothly produced two aces from the same sleeve and entered them into his hand before tossing his cards down on the table along with Henry. It almost worked—but Henry had four aces.

“See? You're cheating. I knew it!” William exclaimed, and it was hard to tell if his fury was genuine or not.

“Dad…” Evan couldn’t help but sigh, knowing it pointless to mention they were both clearly cheating in increasingly obvious ways. Especially when Henry responded with a jovial:

“Takes one to know one, buddy!”

—which started a squabbling argument that neither of the old fogies was ever going to win.

“Right… well, you have fun with that, Sammy,” Michael said with a grin, patting his friend on the back. After a second, Mike perked up as he remembered something. “Oh, you wanted us to check out Freddy after his new software update, right? I’m guessing he’s in his room—we’ll stop by sometime today and give you a report.”

“I’d do it sooner than later,” Henry piped up, stalling the argument over cards for a moment. “Bonnie’s been getting on my poor children’s cases about his friend being MIA, and I don’t want any of them to blow a gasket…”

Evan tried to put on a sympathetic face, though he couldn’t help but snicker at the mental image of smoke pouring out of Sam and Charlie’s ears from frustration at the overly-attentive bunny.

Michael chuckled as well. “Alright, we can swing by after we visit Liz.” He glanced down at Gregory and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Sound good, kiddo?”

“Yeah! I need to talk to Freddy anyway,” Gregory told them. It probably wasn't out of the ordinary for Gregory to want to see the bear regularly; clearly, Freddy was his favorite character regardless of circumstance.

Gregory tugged lightly on Michael’s arm to get him moving. Feeling Jeremy bump into his side as well, he decided to take his other dad’s hand in his and tried to rationalize the situation in simple terms: if Michael trusted these people, so did he—until he was given a reason not to. Which, hopefully, would never happen.

William took a deep swig from his glass. Reaching across the table to refresh both his and Henry's cups, he warned: “You'll be a good boy and not climb inside Freddy's chest compartment again, right, Gregory? I'd feel so terrible if you hurt yourself in one of those robots.”

The worry on his face was so genuine, it made Gregory wonder what the purpose of it all was when he did it before. He could feel the claustrophobic thrumming of Freddy’s internal mechanisms as he sandwiched himself between a gap in the bear’s endoskeleton. In his dreams, Gregory was running away from things trying to kill him… most notably, the very same man who apparently couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt by the very same bot.

Gregory nodded his understanding, feeling somewhat bad as his worried grandfather shuffled his and Henry's cards anew. “I won’t, Pappy.”

“He'll be fine, Dad,” Michael reassured with an easy smile. He knew William was just being paranoid, despite the fact that Gregory hadn't tried to climb inside an animatronic in a while—at least, not to Michael's knowledge.

Evan took the lead, walking confidently through employee-only passages and waving to staff as he went. It wasn't a secret when the Afton and Emily heirs were around, as they were so involved in other family members' franchises the staff quickly learned to memorize their faces due to frequent surprise visits. While Evan didn't work in the Pizzaplex—he was perfectly content to manage his own smaller, homier diner branch of Fazbear Entertainment—there was no mistaking his kind face as someone of great importance.

Gregory was treated much the same way, though arguably with more genuine greetings than his elder family members received. It wasn't that any of the heirs were unlikeable—though Michael had scared quite a few staff on occasion with his calm and collected lectures underlain with veiled threats—it was just that they were so important it was intimidating.

But Gregory? Yes, he was right up there in the status quo, but he was still just a kid—and dealing with kids is what the members of the Pizzaplex knew how to do best.

Soon enough, the group reached a door hidden away from the usual path of employees rushing to and fro. Michael rapped on the wood three times before pushing it open. “Liz? I brought visitors...”

Liz was dressed down today in overalls and an old painting shirt as she worked. Finishing the latest designs was something she was being particular about, having thrown away half the original concepts and finding herself in a creative rut. At Michael's voice, Liz was quick to break concentration and turn around in her office chair.

“Visitors? You brought a whole party; hey, guys!” she remarked as the group filed into the office. Meeting the youngest boy’s eyes, Lizzie waved him over with a sense of urgency. “Gregory! Quick, I need your opinion on Circus Baby and Ballora.”

Gregory was fast to let go of his father's hands to do some investigating, curiously coming to peep the watercolor characters Liz painted in her sketchbook. Circus Baby looked far less uncanny then her predecessor, as well as Ballora. While Ballora seemed to still take role as a dancer, Baby's design leaned more towards that of a pop singer.

“They're cool! They're not as weird... They kind of look like they're from like—the 90's maybe.”

Liz groaned at this, closing the book even as it was still drying.

“I'm sorry I hate shoulder pads.” Elizabeth stressed before pulling Gregory in for an aggressive hug. “How ARE you, sweetie? Did you cut your hair?” Deft fingers played with the mullet Gregory seemed to obtain between last Wednesday and now.

No, Charlie did, Gregory thought. Outwardly, he shrugged and decided to act cool about it. “Just needed something different.”

“I think it's cute—er, cool. Super cool.” Evan tried to cover his slip, knowing that if his seven-year-olds hated being called cute, surely the almost-thirteen-year-old would despise it. He hummed as he assessed the style, noting: “Kinda reminds me of Mike's hair when we were growing up. Remember how you'd lock yourself in the bathroom for hours? God, it was so annoying…”

A tiny flush of red graced Michael's cheeks as his little brother jabbed an elbow into his side. “Look, it was called fashion, Evan. I was just doing what everyone else did back then.”

“Mm... I think you just wanted to impress—”

“So, Liz—” Michael cut off whatever Evan was about to say, moving to his sister’s side and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Uncle Henry says you need a break—wanna come visit Freddy and then go find Evan’s kids?”

Evan rolled his eyes at Mike’s poor attempt to deflect, shooting a knowing look at the other Afton-Fitzgeralds. Michael had never been one for subtlety, so it was always obvious when someone caught his attention in a way others hadn’t. As for Liz taking a break, she bounced up from her chair and stretched her arms above her head to get her circulation going again.

“I’m so glad you all showed up—I was about to start atrophying,” she lamented, then threw a smirk at her big brother’s clear embarrassment.

“We gotta go see Freddy first!” Gregory reminded the group, reminding Charlie and the others that he had an ant in his pants about beta-testing Freddy’s new updates. It came as no surprise to the others. What with Freddy being his favorite and Gregory’s interest in coding, who could blame the kid?

“Yes, yes—Freddy first, as always,” Michael chuckled, shuffling his son towards the door.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

2 notes · View notes

starmagnets · 2 years ago

Text

Oh look, heroes of yore stuff.

This is almost entirely headcanon stuff so yknow have fun with this above all else.

VERY long post. Just so you know before hitting that lil "keep reading."

The heroes of yore knew of one another before banding together to handle Void.

While being from other planets — namely Halcandra, Ripple Star, and Shiver Star — they had all at least heard of one another in some way, shape, or form. Some, such as Ripple and Galacta Knight, had been training together should a universe-level threat occur — as well as all Ripple Star royals just knowing how to fight on principle. Others, like Drawcia, were only known by the others for her magical abilities and her… unfortunate creation, while being essentially a hermit otherwise.

All this to say they knew one another at least in some way before Void made themself known to the universe in the worst way possible.

Queen Princess Ripple, when she was younger, was intense. She still is, honestly, but she's mellowed out quite a bit with time. She was known to prefer using her magic to enchant her weapon, even with her ability to do far more with her magic, which was evidenced in her ability to not only heal far more than most would be able to, but in her ability to literally aid in sealing away a being of pure chaotic energy.

Ripple was always the most intense in training and proper battle, going all in and even trying out new types of attacks and spells on the fly without even writing them down, much to Galacta Knight’s chagrin. After all, if you’re gonna make up new spells, at least find SOME way to keep track of them. She’s best at fighting from a distance, but can adapt if need be.

She has a deep respect for Galacta Knight as her mentor and friend. She greatly admires Fecto Elfilis. She was easily closest with Drawcia, and they were most commonly seen spending time together reading or practicing new techniques with one another.

Galacta Knight was already well known as one of the greatest warriors known across multiple galaxies and dimensions. Hailing from Halcandra, they came to Ripple Star to help with a crisis involving Dark Matter in their youth, and wound up taking the young Princess Ripple under their wing after the fact.

They were known for their great skill with their weapons, but their true power lied in their magical abilities. Having both a strong body and soul, they were able to rip apart the very fabric of reality itself for battle should they need to. They’re one to stick to patterns, rather than Ripple’s more chaotic fighting style. This can make them open to attacks, though.

They’re closest with Fecto Elfilis, as the two of them spar more than any of the others. They care for Ripple like family. They find Drawcia to be a good person, but a little rough around the edges.

Drawcia was a special case among most beings. As a painting come to life, she’s made entirely of paint held together by magic, the magic in question created by what was once known as a “Soul Brush”, now more commonly known as a “Magic Paintbrush.” Her initial painting was a very inaccurate depiction of a goddess previously worshipped on Halcandra. As a hermit for most of her life, she’s much quieter and far less sociable than her teammates, even Elfilis.

Drawcia was known to fight well from a distance, flinging blobs of paint and her own creations brought about by her Soul Brush towards her foes. She’s not one to move fast, but is surprisingly nimble when she needs to be. In a melee situation, her Soul Brush can pack a real punch when she wields it like a melee weapon rather than her usual painting tricks.

She’s closest with Ripple, as she likes that the fairy princess doesn’t ask too many questions or judge, not to mention the old books they’d read together. She has a sort of mutual respect between her and Fecto Elfilis, kinda created by mortals solidarity I suppose. She appreciates that the two of them don’t find the need to make small talk. She doesn’t think much of Galacta Knight, but she does think they’re a pretty cool guy.

Fecto Elfilis was in a similar situation as Drawcia, as a creation of the people of Shiver Star. They were created to be the “ultimate life form” for reasons not even they know. They’d escaped not long after the lab they’d been created in was shut down, and wound up living alone on Shiver Star for a long time, until Void resurfaced, and they were sought out for their powerful abilities.

Elfilis, as we see in game, their fighting style is very graceful, almost dancelike in nature, relying on their speed for their power in combination with their rift-making abilities and generally powerful magic amplified by their staff/spear. Their movements are les predictable than Galacta’s to some extent, but there is a rhythm that can be taken advantage of.

They’re closest with both Drawcia and Galacta Knight. With Drawcia, they see their similar situations as common ground and often go to her for advice if they may need it. With Galacta Knight, they respect the knight greatly, as they’re able to provide them with a challenge. They don’t mind Ripple, and find her to be a nice girl, but they don’t have a strong opinion of her one way or another.

#my ramblings #my writing #kirby series #heroes of yore #queen ripple #galacta knight #fecto elfilis #drawcia #so sorry. i love these guys so so so much.#this is probably utterly incomprehensible but it’s been chillin in my drafts for like three months so here u go <3

15 notes · View notes

cityandking · 2 years ago

Note

33-37 for vesper, minah and bran!

tyyyyyy // Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

VESPER — she does her best to be willing to improve, but it gets harder the older she gets. she's spent most of her life trying to live up to one expectation or another, and it's given her a lot of practice keeping her mouth shut and agreeing and working harder. that said, during her time with the inquisition she gets much better at standing her ground. she'll accept something she finds a valid critique, but she's way less willing to nod along when it's bullshit—and better at letting people know she thinks they're out of line

MINAH — defensive as fuck, but pretty good at playing it off as something self-depreciating. she's also spent a good chunk of time on the road performing, so the less pointed stuff tends to roll off her back (though she'll gladly play up a protest for protest's sake). when it comes to actual deeper critique of her choices or life—yeah, she's a prickly little clam about that

BRAN — depends on who it's coming from. if it's her crew or someone she respects, she'll make an effort to adjust, or at least listen to their perspective. the rest of the time, she just ignores it or plays it off with some kind of self-depreciating joke. (and then she'll obsess over it later in private, probably, but nobody needs to know anything gets to her. she's above all that, or she pretends to be)

34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

VESPER — she's a stubborn little fucker deep down, so she'd keep trying. in her experience, diligence is just about the only thing that pays off, and she can narrow in on a task with single minded focus. she's also got massive reserves of patience to dig into and is fully willing to try and try again if that's what it takes.

MINAH — will immediately reorient. if something doesn't work there's no point in trying again. she hates being stuck in any situation and would much rather move on to some other option (and honestly she's not super picky about her options as long as they're getting her moving in the right direction. sometimes, unfortunately, this lands you in the Wardens, and then you're like. shit. now what.)

BRAN — branwen's the sort of person who thinks through all the different permutations of a situation because she's an overthinker, so she'll move on to a different method, but it's probably one she's had stirring at the back of her mind.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

VESPER — relaxes. it's just like watching her physically put something down. I think the first time she was comfortable around any of the inner circle (either Varric or Solas—or both) it was super clear that the quiet, efficient, patient mage they'd been working with was in fact wound so tight it was a marvel she hadn't snapped. I cannot overstate the literal physical difference between Vesper being at ease around someone and being on her default alert state. (tbh despite the general horrors and stresses of the Inquisition, on the grand scale she unwinds and relaxes across the board—the Inquisitor of the endgame is a far cry from the Herald who stumbled out of the Fade.)

MINAH — she's chatty, she's teasing, she'll get touchy. she's a fun and sociable gal and generally curious. she's also got a bit of an eldest-sibling protective streak, as evidenced by stepping in with rhydian and the twins or checking in on cian. she likes to make sure people are having a good time. makes them less likely to go poking and prodding about (or paying attention to their purses)

BRAN — she's really easily endeared by people, and tends to be a little (or a lot) possessive of her favorite people. she likes to keep an eye on them, especially in group settings—she'll keep court a bit, sit somewhere she can keep an eye out even if she's not engaging with them directly. also, she's touchy to begin with, but she'll really lean into it. and for the special people who get really close, she might even drop the mask a bit (this list is very short: haskon, sabine, eniko. maybe a couple others over time. the party was getting there)

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

VESPER — she works SO hard to stay patient and polite, and she's generally really good at it! she puts up with so much bullshit and she does it with a smile and a nod and a fist clenched where no one will see it. but being Inquisitor wears on her patience, and she gets short with people sometimes. every now and then, she simply has to Remove Herself From A Situation and just. calm down. (she's got a temper and it gets out when she's not careful)

MINAH — minah has two "I don't like you and I want you to know it" modes, which are a) super fake and bitchy, or b) the silent treatment. but her dislike tends to be pretty shallow and she'll get over stuff quickly. in the instance that it's a deeper, fuller dislike, she's got a cold, sour vein of anger in her and she can be really vicious about it

BRAN — will go out of her way to make someone the butt of a joke or make their life difficult. she's kinda petty. but she also just doesn't really dislike that many people—or at least not that many people she actually has to interact with (finch is an outlier adn should not have been counted, but also she was fully ready to throw down in his throne room or whatever so. get rekt)

37. Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

VESPER — not..... really either of these things? she's an apostate mage, a woman without a family and a teacher without a school. she's barely got honor or status to begin with, and neither of them are things she particularly occupies herself with? I guess honor, in the sense that she has a deep desire to do what's just and right and merciful, but even that is more of an external actionable goal than anything based on how she's perceived (the advisors are SUPER concerned with her honor and status, so mostly she leaves it to them)

MINAH — honestly all the talk of honor and status (and Cian asking about playing the hero, and Nora's little talk) kind of makes her want to throw up. (if she had the chance to go back and do it all over again, she'd have chosen status, but. she figures it's too late now)

BRAN — honor! honor!! who gives a fuck about status; she threw all that away literally for the chance to defend her honor. all the best legends are about great heroes and their honor, and the status comes from that moral core. she wants to be like that, a story to tell after she's gone.

#thanks tabby these were really good!#vesper #minah #branwen #memery #still taking these btw

6 notes · View notes

katriniac · 1 year ago

Text

Reblogging because I have more screenshots than the limit for a single post.

The Premium Ending and Epilogue were in his PoV!!! THAT was intensely satisfying.

Please enjoy:

I can practically SEE Sariel mentally steepling his fingers and giving the Grinch grin in that first frame, when he's confronting Lord Crabbypants.

AND THEN! THEN!!!! He drops a bomb on us readers. He has only one reason he let that guy come to the palace: to be used in MC's training!!! So devious. 😈

🤯

Further delicious reading:

But now, my friends, we come to the part I loved the most about this story.

It doesn't contain whips, or safewords, or any sexy times at all.

What is even better than all those?

Respect.

That's right. He's giving her room to grow, respecting her autonomy, and trusting her.

He understands that a being a Dom doesn't equate to being a dictator. Instead, he takes into consideration what SHE would want.

(I could go off on a very long rant about IkeRev Sirius's chauvinistic move to steal MC's power to make a decision because he thought he knew what was best for her. But ... I will restrain myself, lol)

💜

Next we have this sweet little glimpse into his mind of where he is honest with his greedy feelings. But also, there is SUCH TRUE PRIDE he has in her, as evidenced by the words used: 'properly expressed her request'.

Subs: Tell me that didn't make you melt????

*attempts to resume her human form after becoming a twitterpated puddle of giddy goo*

And ... you know -- YOU KNOW -- how much we love hearing 'good girl'.

Well, Cybird still managed to achieve that same effect without Sariel ever once uttering that phrase.

Difficult to believe, I know!

I had to admit I missed hearing 'good girl'. But I think that's a good thing. It shows they (writers/localizers/characters) have range, that they can grow beyond the box we've put them in.

😏 Here we have some satisfying non-verbal instruction, courtesy of the whip:

Lastly we get to see that MC has spunk and spark (while not being a full-out bratty sub), showing us a delightful view of their relationship. She is by far my favorite MC in Ikemen Prince.

I. AM. SCREECHING.

(in a good way)

Has anyone else read Sariel's route in the "Sweet Discipline" story event going on right now?

Putting aside the fact that he's not utilizing the punishment/reward psychology properly (remember: this is Cybird, and they only do 'fun-ishments' because that's what the majority of readers thinks is sexier. Sigh.), this was the peek into Sariel and MC's interior life that I was CRAVING.

Listen. I know he's not the best role model for a Dom. But he's not bad. Not bad at all. But he's the closest Cybird has ever given us for being a true Dom.

I don't want to turn this post into a thesis on where Sariel gets it right, and where he goes wrong. Maybe save that for another post. This post is about the story event moments that I squeed out loud.

Screenshots under the cut.

Here is a scene where he suggests a little training for MC.

Was the whip necessary to the plot?

No.

But was it necessary for us thirsty readers?

YES.

She's such a good girl. I adore how SERIOUSLY she's taking this.

Had I been in her place? I would have had trouble keeping both feet on the ground because I'd be dancing around with glee.

#ikepri sariel #ikemen prince sariel #sariel noir #sweet discipline #story event #thank you cybird #Dom!Sariel

30 notes · View notes

theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

Note

You said in another post you don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis (aka Death Eaters 1.0) were all that plausible. Why is that?

Oof, this is a larger ask than I think you intend that gets into a lot of controversial things. Though, I suppose that’s what this blog has become.

Remember when I just talked about my weird fanfiction? Remember those days? I remember those days.

I guess to start out we need to go at a high level and acknowledge a few things.

For all we know about Tom Riddle’s life we know very little that came from himself. Most of what we know came to us via The Halfblood Prince, in Dumbledore’s lessons to Harry.

Think what you will about Dumbledore, benign or evil, but we can all acknowledge that the man had a clear goal and agenda in Halfblood Prince. Dumbledore was facing his imminent death, suddenly he no longer was looking at years but a few months to accomplish everything he needed to. He knows Harry is a horcrux, knows he himself no longer has time to hunt down Tom’s horcruxes himself, and instead must leave all his work to Severus and, partly, to Harry Potter.

Specifically, he has to groom Harry for suicide.

By the time Severus relays the truth to Harry (never mind that this very nearly didn’t happen in canon and what would Dumbledore do then) Harry must be prepared to sacrifice his own life to stop Voldemort. That, or Severus will have to murder the shit out of him, and that was probably plan B but Dumbledore would prefer it if Harry went along willingly so that the whole thing’s a little less shady. Dumbledore’s not murdering children if the children murder themselves!

This means, in part, convincing Harry that Voldemort is such a monstrous evil that his presence on this earth cannot be tolerated. Voldemort cannot be allowed to survive, even if Harry’s death does not guarantee Voldemort’s destruction, Harry must do it because Voldemort is that bad. There must be no hope, no recourse, and the only action Harry can take is martyrdom.

And so, that is essentially what Dumbledore does.

He gives Harry a series of lessons, hand selecting memories of Tom Riddle’s past (often shockingly innocuous), and then narrates them to tell Harry exactly why Tom Riddle is so evil today. The flimsy excuse of Harry wheedling information out of Slughorn is nice, but not necessary, as Dumbledore has no reason to believe this memory contains information he himself doesn’t already know (indeed, that Tom actually did make six horcruxes as he told Slughorn is a very strange coincidence as we rarely end up doing what we thought or being where we thought we would when we were sixteen).

Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle was born evil by his very conception, is doomed to be a lowly miserable creature, and that murdering him is effectively putting him out of his misery.

Right, how does this relate to this post?

Well, neverminding what JKR says outside of canon, we learn about the Knights of Walpurgis/Tom’s schoolboy syncophants from Dumbledore. Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, while a highly respected and charming student was Evil McEvil who had junior cultists galore. So, you see Harry, the man must die (ergo you must kill yourself).

However, this is frankly ridiculous and not in any way believable.

First, the Hogwarts era when Tom’s in school.

Personally, I believe Tom was regarded 100% as muggleborn. Tom went into Hogwarts with the last name Riddle coming from the muggle world. When he gets sorted into Slytherin he can point to know family members at all (and even if he could would, at best, be considered a low class halfblood). Tom doesn’t know the significance of parseltongue and likely tells no one (I’ll get into this in a few paragraphs). Tom may insist that he could be a halfblood, he knows nothing of his father, but given his origins he himself probably believes he’s muggleborn until he stumbles across the hereditary nature of parseltongue.

Regardless, Tom is impoverished, comes from lower class muggle London, has the last name Riddle, no relatives to vouch for him, and you want me to think that the purebloods sign up to be his cult members?

Even though Tom is terrifyingly talented and brilliant, he will be fighting for respect every inch of the way. At best, I see the Slytherin’s tolerating his presence. Riddle’s tolerable, for a muggleborn, it’s a shame that he has such dirty blood but they’ll admit he’s a talented sort.

However, as soon as he’s out of Hogwarts they’ll drop him like it’s hot.

This is evidenced by a few things. Upon graduation, Tom Riddle struggles to secure employment. He tries for the Defense position but is unvested and a recent graduate, and so is rejected (and when he later tries again Dumbledore laughs in his place and says, “Bitch please, I will never hire you, I just accepted your application so I could spend this interview laughing in your face!”) He does not enter the ministry, which would likely have been far more beneficial to getting him a leg up in society.

No, Tom instead secures employment as a clerk and purchaser at Borgin and Burke’s the wizarding world’s shadiest pawn shop equivalent where he spends his time miserably wooing older women so they’ll sell him their fine goods. Dumbledore tries to convince us this was Tom’s plan, that he somehow knew about the locket beforehand, but this is bullshit. How the hell would Tom know that the heirloom undoubtedly locked away under safe and key had been sold to Borgin and Burkes? And even if he did, why would Tom take up this miserable position doing nothing he wanted to do?

Whatever minions Tom is supposed to have, whatever friends, they dropped him completely, pretended they never knew him, and did nothing to secure Tom’s future.

Now, back to the parseltongue bit since I made a promise. I believe Tom told no one. Had Tom told the Slytherins he was the Heir of Slytherin, this would have spread like wild fire not only across the house but the school. All the staff would remember Tom as Tom Slytherin, Tom would likely have changed his name, and frankly Tom probably would have been able to get into the ministry with a name like that. Tom Riddle’s life would have looked very different.

More, had the Chamber of Secrets episode happened in a world where Tom proves his heritage, he would have immediately been caught. Someone in Slytherin, even if only a few dormmates knew, would have narked on him. Someone would have been jealous, scared, etc. and would have turned him easily over to the authorities. A secret like that simply cannot be kept, it would spread, and there would be no needing to frame Hagrid and none of Tom getting off.

More, I always got the feeling very few knew that Voldemort had once been Tom Riddle. First, it would make recruiting very difficult. Voldemort is the mysterious, beautiful, heir of Slytherin who has come back from abroad to save their country. Tom Riddle is a dirt poor mudblood who comes from decades of incest and squalor.

Given the wizarding world at large does not know who Tom Riddle is (proved by The Chamber of Secrets) I would suspect the vast majority of Death Eaters and Order members didn’t either. Dumbledore was the one who pieced it together thanks, in part, to a ten-year-old Tom Riddle confessing his parseltongue abilities.

If Tom Riddle had told most people he was a parseltongue, far more would have made the connection, it would be common knowledge. Which means, of course, Tom Riddle has no ability to prove his heritage and is thus muggleborn swine.

More, I think Tom wouldn’t want Tom Riddle to be associated with Voldemort. When he becomes Voldemort, he will transcend his lackluster origins and become far more than an ordinary, mortal, man. He will leave the name Riddle behind and no one will remember that boy. He will eclipse his past.

Not to mention, that if Tom gave them the excuse of his heritage, it means giving himself the easy way out in Hogwarts. They won’t be forced to acknowledge him, acknowledge that he’s better than them despite his roots, but instead given the easy excuse of “oh, it’s because he’s the heir of Slytherin, duh”. And I think Tom would loathe the idea of that.

Tom wanting to eradicate the memory of Tom Riddle is especially why I think Voldemort came out of nowhere in the 70′s.

Tom doesn’t want to be recognized as Tom, he wants to be mysterious and originless, to give the purebloods everything they want to believe in. If it’s people he went to school with, they’ll recognize him, he’ll be just an ordinary mortal to them. If it’s their young, stupid, children well then he has a real chance.

Voldemort is a figure of myth, something that appears to come out of legend itself, the savior of his country.

He cannot have origin let alone Tom Riddle’s.

Not to mention the idea that multiple people waited on Tom Riddle for generations, even for decades where we know he went abroad and travelled the world, is utterly ridiculous. Why would they ever do this? What do they even gain from this? And why would it take so long to take over this ridiculously incompetent country THAT ALL OF TOM’S RECRUITS ARE PRACTICALLY SET TO CONTROL (the beauty of the Death Eaters is that they form a good chunk of the Wizengamot, and in using them, Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time).

If Tom Riddle is so terrible, so horrifyingly competent, then it can’t have taken him fifty years of constant work to topple the country.

So, yeah, there were no Death Eaters 1.0.

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort #the death eaters #the knights of walpurgis

629 notes · View notes

luckyspacerabbit · 3 years ago

Text

drell diaspora meta <3

as told by me! a mixed diasporic chindo (chinese-indonesian) :)

preface: bioware failed to flesh out Drell culture and heritage to my satisfaction so I wrote this meta for both my personal reference and because I wanted to represent Thane and Drell as people who suffer from a history that invokes parallels between real world colonization/imperialism, as well as portray his personal conflict with this accurately because it's very painful and I think gets naturally overlooked by people who lack this background!

Contents:

The Family Unit

Food

Music

Customs

Hanar Intervention (honestly read this bc I think it's the most important section!!)

1. The Family Unit

Size: They're small by necessity: as in there is no room on Kahje to support. This is a bit of a complicated topic. Drell families are likely to lose their children to the Compact giving them incentive to have more than one or two but it’s probably very expensive to provide for them. I can see a lot of cultural tension here. There are pressures in either direction. There's a lot of sadness too. It makes every child extremely precious.

Values: Independence is an important quality-- but not to a fault! Because family units can be taken apart at any time, being able to take care of yourself is a survival skill. In addition, spiritedness is a closely held value-- To make up for the loss of large family trees and ability to be in close quarters (due to the constant coming and going of family members) it becomes very important to showcase your passion-- whether to each other or about any matter of things in life. Overall, spiritedness is most important! caring and wanting to improve upon yourself as well as self-discipline and hard work.

A.N: Probably because, as evidenced by Thane’s dialogue, they've come to view what happened on Rakhana as like, self-inflicted or weak of spirit ( :( this has me extremely messed up. The whole situation is based on Colonialist propaganda honestly so this conflict to me is so personal and painful to watch in real-time because you can see it very plainly in Thane and you can tell he carries that generational trauma)

Carrying on: The ability to be vulnerable is not as important as the ability to show that you care, which can come from action or words, but usually, this means vulnerability and passion go hand in hand. Finally, homecoming is very important. Everyone is so scattered all over the galaxy, time together is time that counts. Bonding circles (An old tradition) have become “Bonds,” a colloquial name for annual family gatherings.

Read on Under The Cut <3

2. Food

Drell are born with a full set of teeth but they can’t be that tough yet. There must be specific dishes for each age to celebrate. That means as they age, softer meats-> harder foods are part of a traditional practice to track development! (Age 1 Birthday Food: Beetle Based Dish, so on till age 16/17)

Rakhana Diet: I also think that on Rakhana insects would have been popular! Because it’s an arid world and it would have been a very nutritious and accessible source of protein. It also strikes me that their recipes may have been very paste-based because it’s an easy way to flavor things when food is scarce! Also, paste flavoring like sambal (spicy chili). Other Foods:

Eggs? Eggs. It’s just a lizard thing but also! Really simple and easy to make.

Desert fruit! Water-based fruits that are similar to cantaloupe and citrusy things like calamansi.

On Kahje: Their diet must have to shift, so lucky they’re omnivorous.

Probably fish. Likely the main source of protein there.

This is off topic but I think that eating kelp runs as a joke for Drell on Kahje because of the similarities between their colors and striping. I don’t know what kind of joke. But I wonder if Drell teens will order fried kelp and point at each other like “cannibal”

Sauce…………. Dark sauces…...

You can tell the difference between a Kahje Drell and a Rakhana Drell (If they are still in existence? Most likely but very hard to find) based on their fish opinions

Raw fish consumption is normal on Kahje but Drell are not technically “built” for that diet so they may get sick with overconsumption! It must be well cooked to avoid illness.

3. Music

There's a natural inclination to communicate verbally due to their distinct biology.

Drell anatomy (throat) allows for unique sounds and trills

Highly present in language and utilized in music (On Rhakana there were probably dialects that incorporated certain clicks and trills as part of the “alphabet” just like irl, but I imagine those that can still speak it are very limited and it must be passed down or retaught through preservation efforts)

Rhythmic dance and music to tell stories and legends! Especially of great creatures that transcended into infamy. Like a big old serpent that through storytelling became a mythical dragon type of thing.

Clothing/Robes, loose-fitting and comfortable to work in Arid environments and allow for movement (tight ass clothes not the norm ashdjfk esp for dancing, Thane’s just a career man who thinks he looks good and he lived on Kahje so--)

4. Customs

The Pursuit of Life a.k.a Perah (I made this term up)

It's a cultural value centered around making the most of life through boldness. Seizing the moment because not every Drell gets the opportunity to call their life their own— this is in reference to both the compact and the death of Rakhana. Therefore if you ARE lucky enough to have ownership over your own life, you must not squander it. There are a number of purposeful benefits to Perah, such as:

Leading Drell off of Kahje (avoiding Kepral’s)

Giving Drell an “Adventurous” reputation due to far journeying and mixed work

A lot of Drell are able to form community ties outside of the home due to this norm! Because a lot of them have long and wide and journeys across the galaxy to share with each other and cultural commonality, they have an immediate kinship with each Drell they meet.

Puppetry/Masks

The Drell face is shaped like a mask so it only makes me think there must be culture-specific dances or plays utilizing masks in order to tell traditional stories and celebrate moments of life

There seems to be a lot of reverence and appreciation for the different and diverse, including animals and other species, leading me to believe that there are masks based on different creatures!

5. Hanar Intervention

Loss of Population: Effects

Destruction of the family unit, disjointed/fractured because of the Compact and limited living space on Kahje

Death of Rakhana leaving entire generations and specific regions behind, permanent severing between sects of Drell society

That means the inability to read certain texts as well as languages dying off between generations.

The disappearance of traditions, including many religions

Loss of understanding of Drell language and terminology

A.N: Thane is a rare case with access to high reading material and close ties to “hidden” communities/pockets of people; Most Drell do not know the meaning of Siha due to Hanar assimilating via Enkindlers

Most also do not know about traditional religion! I imagine these pockets must be so small. Thane probably had to work very hard to recover this knowledge which goes to show his complex relationship with his heritage.

It’s likely that there are factions of Drell who attempt to preserve and celebrate their culture despite being uprooted.

Possible rebellions/isolationists who reject the Compact which has mixed reactions by the majority of Drell community, not limited to shunning and disownment (:/ bc these things are sadly complicated)

A.N: Thane comments that it's an honor to fulfill the compact, which naturally implies it's shame to reject it. Let your imagination on the consequences of that rejection sink in.

A misconception is that Drell like to adopt whatever culture they live in but it's more like most of them lack the access to return and reclaim their own roots or have been shamed out of it

#WEEE #that was fun #meta #mass effect #drell #hanar #thane krios #long post

195 notes · View notes

fishstyx · 4 years ago

Text

“put the maid outfit on.”

featuring. sub!nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.2k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, penetration (pegging), orgasm denial/edging, praise kink, mild (mild!) toxic masculinity

synopsis. peg nagito 2021 + everyone’s favorite e-boy trend.

“You really think I look good in this..?”

Your jaw slackens as Nagito materializes in the doorway, fingers fiddling with the hem of his skirt. His shoulders hunch over and his legs bend at the knee, but if he’s trying to make himself smaller, it does little to obscure your view. The costume fits him so well, corset detailing and silk satin bows lining his midriff, white ruffle trim splayed out against his wrists and thighs. Flouncy frills flare from his shoulders, jet puffed sleeves rounding out his sharper edges and broader sides. A pink flush creeps across his cheeks when you fail to respond, teeth locking his bottom lip in place like he’s trying to keep himself from saying anything more.

“I think you look great in it!”

You clasp your hands together in an attempt to ward off your trance and he cracks a smile in spite of himself, relief washing over his features—but your next words have him standing stick straight. “It makes me feel like I should dress you up more often.”

Suddenly his brows are threaded with vexation, Mary Janes clacking across the floorboards as he makes his way towards you.

“Please don’t joke about that. Even I take some pride in my manhood,” he pouts, somewhat unconvincingly. “But as long as you’re holding to your end of the deal—“

“And whatever deal could you be talking about?” you ask ever so sweetly, lashes batting away all too knowingly. He stiffens at your feigned ignorance, legs knocking together when you tilt your head pointedly.

“...You know what deal.”

Nagito averts his gaze, though unable to escape your own, hands clutching at the lacy material as he sucks in a sharp breath. “The deal we made… where I put this outfit on…” You wait patiently, silent stare urging him to finish the sentence. “...and you pound my unworthy hole into oblivion.”

“Oh? And what exactly am I going to pound you with?”

However fake your play-pretend innocence, the curiosity in your eyes is very much real, blazing with the vehement desire to hear him say it aloud. The remaining shred of his so-called dignity is slashed to pieces, the hopefulness in your voice too compelling to defy.

“My favorite toy. Please, mess me up with it.” Nagito eyes you nervously, expecting rejection or derision or snide, heart fluttering when he gets only an warm smile in return. “The dildo that I can’t live without. I want it—I need it so bad it hurts,” he continues in a near whisper, but it’s good enough for you. You pull him in immediately, your chin nestling itself in the crook of his neck as your lips come to rest at the shell of his ear.

“Such a good boy, using your words so properly.” He shudders against you as you trace the fabric where it lies snug against his waist, mesmerized by the words of encouragement that spill from your lips.

“I’m gonna make you see stars.”

Nagito practically bursts with anticipation as you snake your fingers up his skirt, unmoving from the spot where you pushed him onto the bed. With bated breath he lets you kiss up his inner thighs—lets you because normally he wants to do all the work, wants to be your little joyride fuck toy, wants you squirming under his touch. It’s all he can do just to watch, cock already twitching from how good it feels, how utterly starved he’s been of hands besides his own between his legs.

You push at his thighs, pressing them far apart for easy access, chaste kisses becoming damp squeezes as you traverse up the length. A silent smirk tugs at your lips as he throws his head back, the tent beneath his apron growing taller by the second. You palm it instinctively, rubbing circles through the fabric and inviting blood to his sensitive member.

But it’s more of a distraction than anything else, your other hand uncapping the bottle of lube with skill, lathering itself up with ease. Nagito pays it no mind, instead drinking in how you fondle him with eerie similarity to the most despicable of his favorite fantasies. So when a lone finger begins to circle at his entrance, he reels with an unexpected jolt, back arched like a cat. You waste no time in sinking a digit inside, sinful groans following one after another.

And then you’re pumping him with two fingers, swirling them in tandem and scissoring them apart a knuckle deep, then another. He’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting the maddening urge to move on his own, to just take the reins and ram you inside of him. He’s already coursing with the need for something more substantial, and it’s obvious that he’s ready to take additional girth.

“Used to me already?” you ask, more statement than question. Nagito hesitates before nodding, sheepishness written into the slow bob of his head. “You’ve been playing with this lonely hole behind my back, haven’t you?” But he can’t bring himself to confirm or deny it, the way he peers back at you answer enough.

You reach for the harness in turn, untangling the heaps of straps right before him, his dildo of choice following soon after. You snap the towering thing into place with a satisfying click, swaying your hips as you guide the thigh straps to their final resting place. The fit is snug, belt of the strap just about digging into your flesh—but not quite—and you turn your back to add the finishing touches.

You’re dripping with lube when you face him again, glossy slick accentuating every vein, every bulge that graces your makeshift cock. You chuckle at the way his legs are spread already, the way he’s waiting on you with a look that says take me now, hold me down and fuck me silly.

But he’s ahead of himself as usual, and it’s inevitable that he chokes back a whimper when you disappear inside of him. He gives the prospect of pain no heed, silently pleading for you to move, and you click your tongue in distaste.

“Breathe,” you command, waiting for him to loosen. Green eyes shift expectantly from the strap-on to your own, an exasperated whine starting to form at his lips, but he knows his place and does as you say.

Nagito complies with the rise and fall of his chest, evidenced by the soft sway of a centerpiece bow. His muscles begin to relax even as you’re splitting him in two, and you angle your hips up in preparation. The tip of your silicone cock has barely brushed against his sensitive gland, yet it already has him quivering, hungry for more.

It’s in the middle of a deep breath when you finally deem him ready, doubling back before bucking into that same spot that has his jaw dropping and his eyes squeezing shut. A shaky exhale stutters from his wide-open mouth and he melts into a panting mess as you find your pace.

“Good boy. Such a good boy, making all that noise for me,” you repeat, chant-like words a melody to his ears.

“Y-you really think so?” he struggles to get out, little mewls escaping him even as he speaks. “Even when I’m… being so… selfish?”

“Shh, don’t say things like that. I feel it too, baby boy,” you’re quick to say—and you’re not lying, far from it in fact. The hilt of the dildo rocks against your clit each time your hips meet, the pulsating pressure tempting you to plunge even deeper. And with the face that he’s making, all reddened cheeks and parted lips, how could you not?

You’re snapping into him now, reveling in the challenge posed by the sheer length of his choice toy. It’s hard work with the way he clamps around you, but the tingle it shoots up your spine and the squelch it sends to your ears are well worth the effort. The marvelous stretch draws a throaty “f-fuuuuck” out of him, the god-sent sensation making him throb all the more.

But with every plunge you take, you’re met with the bounce of his pretty pink cockhead, a rebounding reminder of what you’ve left unattended. His neglected shaft looms in stark contrast to his black and white garb, breath hitching when you finally decide to wrap around it. Your movements are painfully slow to begin with, building up the pressure before picking up in speed, and he keens his dissatisfaction until you’re jerking him off to the same brutal rhythm of your rolling hips.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” he cries, locks of hair cascading past his pleated headband as you press into a spot so sweet he thinks he just might come undone; but you have other plans in mind. Your movements slow before coming to a lurching halt, the absence of stimulation quick to dampen the mood.

“Good boys cum when they’re told to,” you say, but the explanation does little to appease him. A look of disappointment leaps to his face, his lips pursed in dismay—or perhaps it’s betrayal.

He looks so disheveled like this, staring at your open palm like maybe his wordless begging can coax you back into stroking him. Hazy eyes glaze over, tufts of hair spilling every which way as he sits himself up, but you aren’t done with him yet.

It’s simple to redirect his movement, his weak limbs no match for your own as you turn him over so he’s kneeling on the bed. He tries to look back but you push him down by the neck, hiking his skirt up as you position yourself behind him. His ass is raised in the air without so much as being told, and you align with his fluttering hole before breaking him in again.

You were right to make him wait; he’s shaking in excitement now, tense with amplified arousal as his knees buckle underneath you. Bottoming out is so much easier like this, your pistons devoured whole and spat back out with each and every thrust. You draw back slowly only to bury yourself once more, repeating the motion until his moaning runs incoherent, completely wracked with shivering pleasure. You can’t tell if he’s humping the mattress, grinding against you, or both, but he’s reaching his climax again and the both of you know it.

“Can I finish now? Pretty please?” Nagito asks, so strained and so breathily that you nearly miss it. “Please, it hurts so good, please please please, I’m head over heels for your cock!”

The thought of stopping again is too cruel for you to give even a moment’s consideration, so you pin his wrist against his back and collect a fistful of hair in your hand before leaning in to award him with the magic words:

“Go ahead, then. Cum for me.”

You slam into him as he rides through the peak of his bliss, squirming in wretched ecstasy as he collapses under his own weight. You can only imagine what kind of expression he’s making with his head face-first in the bedsheets, the kinds of shapes his mouth is forming when you pull his hair back like this. Violent spasms render Nagito otherwise immobile, unable to move of his own accord. He’s going completely slack, quivers shorting until you wonder if he passed out from the aftershock.

It comes as a surprise when you notice him barely holding on, eyelids threatening to shut close when you pull him into your arms. He looks like a cheap whore in that kitschy uniform of his, thick white cum smeared all over the black fabric. Beads of drool streak his chin but he’s too fucked-out to notice, let alone care.

“You did so well for me,” you whisper as Nagito nuzzles into your chest, drowsy and spent. I don’t deserve this at all, he thinks, a dull echo reverberating in the back of his mind.

“I’m so proud of you,” you coo as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. Proud of what? My greediness? My utter uselessness?

But he’s too exhausted to fight your praises, self-doubt dwindling away to nothing as you hum your approval. He snuggles against your palm without even realizing it, subconscious of his mind chasing after contact with your bare skin. In his docile state, you can’t help but to hold him close, intimate proximity sating the needs of which he’s too adamant to admit aloud.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually, your adrenaline dies down, too. You feel as though you’re a husk of yourself, curling up beside him and letting the fatigue tide you over. As much as you’d love to watch your symbol of hope fall asleep, your eyelids feel so, so heavy now, and you expend the last of your energy on little kitten kisses that trail up his temple and dot down his nose. Your collective consciousness fades away until all that’s left is the syncing of your breath, a singular flow of air where you lay wrapped around one another.

He’ll never admit just how good it felt to be pampered this way, but you’ll never regret taking care of him.

#nagito x reader #nagito smut #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa oneshot #nagito imagines #danganronpa smut #tw. penetration.#🍣.food #fishstyx.dr

921 notes · View notes

xyztrio721 · 2 years ago

Text

I’m a little over a quarter of the way done with Chapter 5 of Xenoblade 3, but I feel like I’m freezing, fearful of what’s to come… perhaps I can alleviate that by posting about my thoughts/experiences with Chapter 4?

Probably not, considering how Chapter 4 went from “Okay, this is a rather wholesome start. Bittersweet, but wholesome” to “Holy shit this is so FUCKED UP” by the time I was done, and here I will provide some moments that show the drastic shift in tone.

Warning: Spoilers for Xenoblade Chronicles 3 Chapter 4 under the cut.

First off, I know I posted this screenshot already, but I NEED to post it again because HOLY FUCKILGEIHAIE IS IT ADORABLE.

Noah is so fucking adorable. I sure hope nothing bad will happen to him 🥲.

Next up is something… not so wholesome, but I do have a question about this dragon-like monster.

What was the purpose of this fight? As far as I can tell, it didn’t make that much of an impression on the plot, and it hasn’t been brought up again since. Maybe this monster was put here so you could practice using the new Ouroboros you got at the end of Chapter 3?

That has to be it, because I don’t see the point otherwise. Maybe I should rewatch this cutscene and one or two of the cutscenes afterwards to see if this dragon made any major impact on the story.

Next is a screenshot that I thought was adorable/funny. I call it “Mio braids Sena’s hair while Noah pouts in the background”.

I don’t really know what Noah was actually doing back there, but I like to pretend that he was a little jealous of Sena because she got to get her hair braided by Mio and he didn’t (which after progressing through the beginning of Chapter 5, I could see that being a canon scenario).

Speaking of which, I’ve noticed that Mio can braid Eunie’s hair and Sena’s hair, but I don’t recall her ever braiding the hair of any of the male protagonists. Can you get a scene like that at a Rest Spot, or does she only braid the hair of the female protagonists? I’m staring to think it’s the latter, but it’s possible that I just missed those scenes.

Okay, so while I didn’t take any screenshots of the encounter with Juniper or Colony Tau in general, I would like to talk about how liberating Tau was a shock to me. I was honestly expecting to fight another Consul member because that’s what I’ve had to do all other times before and after liberating Colony Tau, but as it turns out, that did not happen. At all.

Apparently Colony Tau isn’t of much use to the Consuls, as evidenced by the fact that it’s rarely ever visited by its Consul, so I guess we’ll never know which Consul member was associated with Tau (unless that gets revealed later on in the game). Thankfully I freed the colony just in time, because if I’m not mistaken, their Flame Clock was nearly gone, and that would have resulting in the entire colony being wiped out.

Also, quick question: I’ve heard that Juniper’s pronouns are they/them, but I want to make 100% sure that these are their canonical pronouns so I don’t mistakenly use any incorrect pronouns. So are they canonically nonbinary, or is this a misunderstanding on my part?

Moving on from Colony Tau, we have some screenshots of Maktha Wildwood, which I admittedly didn’t take that many screenshots of either. Really, this screenshot isn’t so much of a screenshot of Maktha Wildwood as it is a screenshot of Keves Castle from a distance. That being said, I thought this was a nice shot, so I wanted to take a screenshot of it.

And here we have the exchange of flutes between Noah and Mio, which you can barely see because a) the camera was too far away in some shots and b), because the sun was too freaking bright. That second point mainly applies to the second screenshot.

This was before the exchange.

This was during the exchange.

And this was after the exchange.

I loved this scene and the one preceding it. Mio talking about her impending death and the fear that comes from knowing that her time is running out, Sena telling Noah that she seems to be more open with him than anyone else in the group (including Sena herself), Noah and Mio coming to understand one another a bit more after talking about Miyabi… I don’t know how to put my feelings into words.

This entire scene is… beautiful, and I’m afraid that this will hurt even more later on in the game, which I’m 100% sure will be the case…

Speaking of beautiful scenes, the entire scene involving Cammuravi and Ethel’s final fight… it was powerful.

Powerful shot number 1 (and the only one I screenshoted sadly): this shot of Cammuravi after he poked his own eye out to resist being controlled by Consul O. I did NOT expect him to do that at all.

Like, holy HELL was he a brave man for doing this in the first place just so he can get one last fight in against Ethel. This was the first time a commander defied the Consuls, and while there may be others who will be brave enough to stand against them (and I think I’ve already met another commander who did just that, though they did not defy them the same way Cammuravi here did), I don’t know how many of them will be willing to act on their will to fight back against the Consul.

Powerful scene number 2: Ethel and Cammuravi continuing to fight one another even as their life force was being absorbed by P and O. They didn’t give a spark about their inevitable demise. They cared more about getting even with one another while essentially giving the Consuls a middle finger. Talk about bravery.

And, after they fell… this abomination showed itself.

You can’t see it in this screenshot, but this… thing has two heads, one for Consul P, and one for O.

This… is the result of two Moebius Interlinking with one another, and it’s not the last time you’ll see this either. In fact, it’s possible that you might have encountered something like this earlier in the game. I’ll get to that later, but for now, allow me to talk about my experience with fighting this thing.

This Interlinked Moebius took me two attempts to beat, and I think the reason for that was Rose Whip, an AOE Art that hits multiple times. That Art was a nightmare to deal with, especially if it took out one or all of the Healers (which I think is what happened the first time, but I can’t quite remember if this was true or not), but at least I was able to deal with it the second time around.

Also, Mio just straight up socked them in the face before the battle. She sent them flying into that rock, and that was with her bare hands. Clearly she was pissed off during that scene, and can you blame her? These two killed Cammuravi and Ethel right in front of them!

Don’t fuck with Mio, she’ll punch you into the sun (apparently)!

This shot was awesome. It’s three Ouroboros in one shot, and I believe this won’t be the only instance of a shot like this in the game.

After O and P died (I can’t remember if they died because of the annihilation effect or because they went over the time limit for Interlinking [which I think was the answer, if I remember correctly]), Noah and Mio sent off both Cammuravi and Ethel. Here’s three screenshot showing the off-seeing.

Rest easy, Cammuravi and Ethel… for now.

This next shot is really cute, but I kind of wish that it didn’t immediately come after the off-seeing scene.

This shot is actually fairly close to the one I took from the Xenoblade 3 trailer they showed during the Xenoblade 3 Direct to use as my avatar for this blog, and I think I’ll use to upgrade my avatar to a higher-quality image. That’s right, I’M TURING UP THE GRAPHIC SETTINGS!

I also love how Noah looks so shook in this shot. He has absolutely no idea what’s going on right now, and honestly, big mood.

And now for the really dark stuff… I didn’t get that many screenshots of Keves Castle, but I do have some screenshots of the bosses that I encountered there. First off, Consul D and J.

Yep, another Interlinking between two Moebius, this time with Consul D and Consul J/Joran. Not only is this the Moebius that showed up in Eunie’s memories of her dying on that battlefield from Chapter 3, which she talked about during the cutscene I took this shot from…

…but it looks eerily similar to the one that was encountered during Chapter 1. It’s entirely possible that this could have been the first Moebius you fought in the game, though that version may have been lacking the Interlinking portion of this Moebius.

Surprisingly enough, I beat Consul D and J in one try. You know who I also managed to beat in one try? The Queen of Keves herself.

Yep, this is the Queen of Keves, Melia Antiqua from Xenoblade Chronicles 1!

…or is it?

Nope, turns out this was merely a robotic replica that was what I presumed to be created by the Consuls to continue the never-ending war between Keves and Agnus.

And during this fight, N and Noah… First of all, Mio seemed to recognize N’s appearance and weapon (as did all of us, I’m certain). Second, N seemed to be doing something to Noah’s mind. As of right now, it hasn’t been explained, but what we do know is that it gave Noah a headache.

That whole thing with N and Noah… please tell me that I wasn’t the only one who thought that what N was doing to Noah was similar to what Sephiroth did to Cloud though out the majority of FInal Fantasy VII.

If this is anything similar to Sephiroth and Cloud… I fear what N can do to and with Noah’s mind later on in the game.

And now… the reason why Mio felt as though she recognized N’s appearance and his weapon, and the reason why N could mess with Noah during their encounter. This is N unmasked.

It’s true…

N and Noah… they are connected. Perhaps they may even be one in the same…

And you know who also looks creepily similar to another member of the main six? Consul M.

It can’t be, can it…?

Is Consul M… Mio?

I’m sure that will be explained in Chapter 5, or maybe even Chapter 6, but for now… that’s everything I have to say about Chapter 4.

Now to work up the courage to progress past the first quarter of Chapter 5. I think I’m close to hitting the half-way point, but I can’t shake the feeling that my heart with be shattered soon…

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles 3 #xenoblade chronicles 3 spoilers #xenoblade 3 spoilers #xc3 spoilers #xb3 spoilers #mom come pick me up everyone’s crying their eyes out because of the fifth chapter of a video game #and I don’t know why #this chapter was already dark enough #what could possibly be worse than watching two commanders die right in front of you?!#or finding out the truth behind everyone’s origins and lives?!#or the fact that the consuls created a fake Queen just to push Keves towards war so they may continue to exist?!#WHY DOES CONSUL N LOOK LIKE NOAH?!#Please don’t answer any of these questions by the way #for obvious reasons

19 notes · View notes

ibelongtowrath · 4 years ago

Text

Hot Springs - Lucifer x Reader

Warnings // 18+/NSFW, praise in the form of “good girl,” oral sex, female reader Word count: 2.6k

Happy hot springs theme day 💦 Here’s another Lucifer piece about getting eaten out at the hot springs because horny writing brain go brrrr. I hope you enjoy. I am also terrible at coming up with titles

I can’t sleep.

You groan inwardly and sigh, turning your body to stare at the ceiling, your eyes practically glazing over. To your left, Mammon snores loudly; a sound akin to a chainsaw, and something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

“Ya gotta sleep next to me, MC! If any of my brothers even try to touch a hair on your head, I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed hurriedly, already pulling the blanket over your head, gripped with exhaustion. “Goodnight, Mammon.”

I should have brought fucking ear plugs.

You roll over to your right side, where Levi sleeps peacefully, clutching his Ruri-chan body pillow close to his chest. You’re pretty sure you can hear him mumbling her name every so often, and your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, knowing that the likelihood of actually achieving a deep, restful sleep is growing lower by the second as you inhale deeply.

With a groan, you rise, feet padding softly across the smooth, wooden floor. Perhaps a soak in the onsen would make you drowsy and relaxed enough to actually be able to sleep through all the surrounding noise. Grabbing a towel and pausing briefly before leaving the room, you look down at yourself. A minuscule, though beautifully ornate silk robe barely covers your naked body; although it was customary to enter the hot spring completely nude, you couldn’t help but feel extremely self-conscious. Thankfully, Diavolo had rented out the entire place for the night, so no other beings were there, save for the demon brothers.

And, thankfully, everyone else was still asleep. As much as you love the demon brothers, sometimes it felt amazing to have a few waking moments to yourself, and the idea of spending that alone time in a steamy, relaxing hot spring? Bliss.

Carefully opening the sliding doors leading to the spring, careful to not wake anyone, you step out into the onsen. Steam rises steadily from the hot water, caressing your face as a slight breeze carries wisps of it towards you. The tension already begins to loosen from your neck and shoulders, taking in the sights of the artfully-placed rocks and trees around you. Slowly, you walk towards the stone steps leading into the water and dip your feet in, testing the temperature. Perfect.

You look back over your shoulder for a brief moment before you begin to untie your robe and open the front. Despite the warmth radiating from the water, a shiver passes through your body at the sudden exposure to the still slightly cool night air. You shrug the robe the rest of the way off, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby bench, along with the towel.

Knowing it is customary to be clean before entering the spring, you wash off at the bathing station situated near the sliding doors, careful to remove any traces of soap before finally stepping into the hot spring. A deep, satisfied sigh escapes you as your body submerges beneath the warm, tranquil waters. Steam rises up towards you and your eyes close as you sit, tipping your head back to rest against the side of the spring. Your face turns up to the perpetually night sky of the Devildom, the light of the moon illuminating everything around you in an almost ethereal glow; stars, scattered across the sky, glitter like moon dust, looking almost as if they’re sparkling.

“Are my brothers causing mischief, my dear MC?”

The voice rings out, disturbing your fleeting serenity as you startle with a gasp. Your eyes open quickly and you look around in a panic for the source of the mysterious voice before your gaze settles on the demon standing at the edge of the spring, wrapped in a short, blue robe.

“L-Lucifer?” you manage to gasp in surprise. “I thought you were asleep. What are you-”

“I should be asking you the same question, my dear. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Lucifer retorts. He can sense your shock, and he smirks inwardly, keeping his expression neutral.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you mumble. “Mammon snores like a chainsaw, Levi was having dreams about doing who knows what to his body pillow, and I just...wanted to relax…”

“An excellent place you’ve chosen to come to do so, then. Although we are in the Devildom, Lord Diavolo had to have an onsen of our own developed after experiencing a traditional one in your world, in Japan. The waters here are not geothermal as they naturally are in Japanese onsens; however, magic can replace virtually anything we are unable to replicate. The effects are still much the same, as evidenced by your relaxed state before I, unfortunately, disturbed you.”

The smirk tugs Lucifer’s lips upwards, though he quickly replaces it with a chuckle and a cordial smile, his eyes closing briefly before they open again, setting his intense crimson gaze upon you. Realizing you are fully naked beneath the steaming water, the blood rushing to your face and making the temperature of the water seem almost chilly in comparison to the heat in your cheeks. Thankfully, the water is opaque, masking your nudity, though you can’t help but squeeze your legs together and crossing your arms over your chest in a feeble attempt to mask the fact.

Lucifer chuckles softly once more, moving to loosen the strings of his robe.

“Would you mind if I join you, MC? It seems I am in need of some relaxation as well,” he asks, his voice a low timbre, as though teasing in its slight lilt. “Though it is not customary for men and women to bathe together in Japanese hot springs, we do not typically adhere to that rule here. Of course, I will respect your wishes if you decline and wish to bathe privately.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” you stutter in response. “Feel free.”

“As you wish, then.”

Your eyes widen, gaze transfixed as Lucifer finally loosens the knot holding his robe together in the front. The silken, azure fabric hangs loosely on either side, and the prideful demon smirks once more, noting your enraptured attention. Teasingly, he slides the robe off his well-defined shoulders, pausing to tilt his head and flash you a knowing smile.

“Enjoying the view?” he purrs.

With a loud cough and a swallow, you turn your head to gaze directly in front of you, studying the intricate shrubbery and not dignify his remark with a response.

Don’t look, don’t you dare look.

The heat rushes back to your cheeks and you force yourself to tilt your head back, only relaxing when you hear Lucifer step into the spring. Bringing your head back forward, you see him seated across from you in the steaming waters, a wolfish grin on your face.

“I should come here more often,” Lucifer remarks casually. “It is absolutely lovely not to have someone getting into trouble and disturbing my peace and quiet.”

He’s naked under the water. Naked. I wonder what he-

You feel your body tense at the intrusive thought and are unable to stop yourself from groaning softly, clapping a hand over your mouth as you realize you’ve completely given yourself away. Lucifer’s grin deepens, and he leans forward as those beautiful, deep garnet eyes bore into yours.

“You look a bit tense there, my dear,” he coos. “I can offer a shoulder massage if you’d like.”

“Oh, u-um… that would be nice,” you admit.

“Come a bit closer then, my dear. I may be a strong demon, but even I cannot stretch my body that far,” he teases.

Nodding slowly, you rise ever so slightly, keeping your arms tightly crossed in front of your chest and careful not to expose any more of your body from beneath the opaque water. Up close, you realize Lucifer is even more handsome, and you can feel your heart pounding beneath your rib cage, thump, thump, thump. You turn around, back facing him, grateful for the sounds of the small stream of water flowing steadily in a fountain by the spring masking the sound of your heartbeat, loud enough that surely he would be able to hear.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, moving closer. At the touch of his hands and the feel of his proximity, you start. Chuckling, Lucifer begins to knead the tense muscles with careful motions, using his thumbs to work out the tight knots he can feel beneath your skin.

“Uncross your arms for me, my dear,” he instructs. “You are carrying so much tension, and I cannot help you properly when you are not relaxed.”

With a sigh, you drop your arms to your sides, resting them in your lap. Lucifer’s touch is relaxing, satisfying, and you can feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders as he continues to work the tender muscles. Blissfully, your head drops back, hair fanning out in the water as a soft groan, almost like a moan falls from your lips. The demon smirks as he continues his ministrations, moving even closer to you, though you barely notice the heat of his body nearly right against yours, your eyes closed in peaceful relaxation.

“That’s a good girl, stay just like that…,” he instructs.

Lucifer’s praise causes your heart to race even faster, your eyes opening as you feel your thighs pressing together. He notes your reaction, leaning forward to press a soft kiss into the delicate skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder. You shudder in pleasure, letting out a definite moan this time, finding yourself leaning back against him, your back nearly pressed to his chest. Grinning against your skin, he nibbles gently at first before biting down a bit firmer, his hands continuing their work on your shoulders.

“Such a good girl…”

Lucifer’s hands move from your shoulders to trace a path down the generous curve of your waist, his mouth finding purchase on your now relaxed shoulder as he presses another kiss there. One hand reaches up to thread his fingers into your hair lightly, tugging your head to the side before crashing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss, much like the water and the skin of your bodies. The kiss is deep, intimate; it speaks a thousand words full of want, of need, of dark desire without a single utterance. Your tongues dance with one another as soft gasps of pleasant surprise and arousal escape you and him, your thighs squeezing together under the water, now wet in more ways than simply being submerged beneath it.

Biting your lip and pulling away from the kiss, Lucifer’s hand moves to your bare breast, groping it lightly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger, savoring your sweet moans. His cock twitches, already hard and pressing against your back. Grinning, he tugs at your hair again, tilting your head back until you look up at him; eyes half-lidded, nearly glazed over and blown-out with lust.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Lucifer teases. “I offer you a relaxing massage, and you turn it into anything but. I suppose I’ll have to find another way to ease the tension in your body. Especially-”

He pauses, moving his hands to caress the soft, fleshy skin of your inner thighs, briefly teasing a few fingers between your legs before pulling them away, relishing your lewd gasps.

“-right here. Yes, it seems you are very much still tense. My, my, we certainly will have to remedy that, won’t we, my naughty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, pressing your back harder against him.

Suddenly, you are teeming with need, nearly keening at the thought of having Lucifer between your legs. In one swift movement, he picks you up, quickly turning you around to lift you out of the water and set you on the side of the hot spring. Feeling the sudden difference in temperature, you shudder. Droplets of water glisten in the shining moonlight as they travel down your body. He grins at your shudder as he begins laying you back gently and spreading your legs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before biting down into the skin, pausing briefly to admire the indentation of his teeth that will surely welt and leave a mark behind later.

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be sure to warm you up,” Lucifer says, biting down once more. “Now, lay back and relax for me.”

Obeying his command, you lay your back flat against the cool stone, your heart continuing to thump like someone is revving an engine. Lucifer teases a few fingers between your legs, his thumb circling your swollen clit, eliciting a loud, lewd cry as he does so. Pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone, he gently sucks the skin into his mouth and biting into the skin there, intent on leaving more marks. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before lowering himself down between your legs to your wet, dripping core, practically quivering in anticipation. He smiles before his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your core until he reaches your clit, swirling it tantalizingly slow around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Lucifer’s lips close around it, sucking. Your back arches, reaching your hands forward to weave your fingers into his hair. Bucking your hips against his face, he smirks, moaning into your skin and continuing to suck on your clit, alternating between stimulating it with his tongue and lightly grazing his teeth across it.

“Good girl, so good for me,” Lucifer moans. “You taste so fucking sweet, pet.”

Sliding two fingers inside you, he curls and pumps them skillfully to press against your sweet spot. A louder, more high-pitched moan falls from your lips, taking his name with it as it echoes across the otherwise serene tranquility of the onsen.

“L-Lucifer- ah, it feels so good-”

Frantic with desire, you begin to roll your hips rhythmically towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue and fingers. Lucifer slides a third finger into you, desperately savoring the delicious sounds of your desperation as he, too, can’t stop himself from moaning into your skin. He laps at your sweet essence, eager to taste all of you, to wet his cock between your tight, warm walls and help ease his own tension between his hips, a fire stirring in his belly.

“Lucifer!” Crying out his name in a wanton gasp, you begin to feel yourself tighten around his fingers. “Lucifer, I-I’m going to cum-”

“Good girl,” Lucifer groans. “Cum hard for me, princess.”

His praise pushes you over the edge, immense pleasure washing over your body in waves as you writhe against the stone, arching your back. Your body jerks forward, slightly, and your lips part to scream in pleasure, his name falling from your lips over and over, growing in volume and pitch with every syllable. Grinning, Lucifer slowly slides his fingers out of you, pressing a kiss to your clit as he pulls back. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, aching for the sensation of him filling you once more. He reaches for your arm to slowly pull you up to a sitting position.

“Now…”

Standing from the water and moving his hands to your hips, he lifts you up to pull you close to him, hips perched on the edge of the spring against the rock. Your bare chests press together as he lifts your legs, resting them against his shoulders. He slides his cock into you with ease, and he groans, tipping his head back briefly at the feeling of your wet, warm heat gripping him so tightly. You moan, fingers curling against the wet stone beneath you as you finally gain the much-need stretch of his cock buried between your legs.

“I believe I have some tension of my own that needs to be worked out.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obeyme lucifer #lucifer obeyme #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #lucifer swd #swd lucifer #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me lemon #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader

679 notes · View notes