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peachdues · 9 months ago

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TOXIC

LEVI X READER

A/N: a combination of the horny angst that’s been swirling in my head for a few days.

Listen. Do I condone what’s about to happen in this? No. Was it fun to write? Absolutely.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • toxic fucking • unprotected/raw sex • creampie • breeding kink • fucking does not solve problems • neither do babies • toxic Levi and toxic Reader tbh

This was a bad idea. Terrible; one of your worst to date.

And yet, as Levi spread you out across his kitchen counter — the counter that, until two weeks ago, had also been yours — you couldn’t for the life of you remember why every alarm bell in your head was sounding off, begging your body stiffen, to reject the man lowering himself between your thighs, his gray eyes glowing nearly silver with desire.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” His lips are hot and silky as they slope messily across your thighs, and his fingers push aside the hem of your sundress to make way for him. “Because try as you might, you know no one will ever be able to fuck you like I can.”

Ah. That was why.

Because you and Levi had broken up. You were no more; a past concept, a memory.

In the end, your three-year relationship died not in a fiery blaze of glory, but in cold resignation. He’d sat stoically at the kitchen table as you’d confessed that you could no longer stomach being second or third or whatever place behind his true passion — work — and that it was time for you to put yourself first, for once, since he wouldn’t.

The only sign of his emotion has been his fists — clenched so tight that the skin of his knuckles had gone white.

I’m done. I have nothing left to give you, Levi. Not when you only ever take and offer nothing in return.

He’d tried to argue once you announced your intention to move out that night. He’d fought to convince you to wait until morning, to put away the small suitcase you’d packed with your most essential belongings, to sleep on it — on the decision overall. But you’d known that if you’d stayed, you would have changed your mind — would’ve let him change your mind, and he’d known that, too. So you’d held firm, turned your back on him and forced yourself to walk out of the door to your apartment, suitcase in hand.

You hadn’t intended to return, and it seemed like he’d accepted it. He’d even gone so far as to mail whatever of your belongings you hadn’t managed to pack to your parents’ address. So though you spent your nights staining your pillow with bitter tears, your heart feeling like little more than a misshapen lump of meat barely beating in your chest, you’d at least gotten what you thought you’d wanted: a clean break.

Until he’d texted you that all of your mail was still being sent to your — his — address. He’d offered to pay to have it forwarded to you, but when you saw how much that would have put you in his debt, you’d begrudgingly told him you’d stop by on your way home from work and pick it up.

Really, you knew better; should have known better, at least.

And perhaps your logic would have won over your desire, but then Levi’s fingers tug your underwear to the side and his mouth latches to your core, and all the chatter that constitutes your higher reasoning fades to an indiscernible buzz in the back of your skull. The moment you feel something hot and wet prodding your entrance, your mind whites out without the hope of coherency returning any time soon, as Levi begins to fuck you with his tongue.

With a keening cry, your legs seize around his head, trapping him between your thighs. Your hands shoot to grip his hair, desperate to find purchase; to find anything to help keep you tethered here, to reality, rather than risk floating away in clouded bliss.

But Levi is too committed to tearing down the wall you’d carefully spent the last two weeks building, brick by brick. So as his tongue pumps steadily into your core, he shifts, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he presses you harder against his face. His jaw works furiously and when his teeth graze against your clit, you lose whatever last vestige of control you’d clung onto.

You’re sobbing through clenched teeth but utterly helpless to stop your hips as they begin churning and grinding against his mouth. Levi hums in approval, and throw your eyelashes, you spot the way his pupils dilate, chasing away the cool silver of his irises and replacing them with something black and hungry.

“Atta girl,” he praises between his thrusts, and the vibrations of his mouth against your heated, sensitive flesh nearly makes you drool. “For once in your life, stop fuckin’ thinking.”

He swirls his tongue around you entrance one more time before he replaces it with his fingers, plunging two into your cunt and curling them. He finds that rough patch on your innermost wall with a near frustrating ease.

It’s infuriating to know that the person you know can’t give you what you really need is somehow the only person who knows exactly how to give you what you want. And, judging by the faint smirk pulling at Levi’s lips they latch around that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you know he can see your resolve crumbling under his feverish mouth.

“You don’t even remember why we were arguing, do you?” He jeers between harsh sucks at your clit as you continue to writhe and cry out for more. “You just wanted to cause a scene; make me sweat a little.”

You want to fight back; you want to tell him that he’s wrong, that you’d meant it when you’d said your relationship had run its course, but he won’t give you the space to do so. Not when he presses his face firm against your center and rocks his head side to side, reducing any protestations you might have had to pitiful whimpers.

“You’ve got my attention, sweetheart. Let’s see if you know what to do with it.”

Levi slips a third finger into your core and you come undone. With his teeth grazing your clit in time with each measured thrust of his fingers into your heat, you shatter against the kitchen counter, hard enough that stars dance in the corners of your eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Levi groans as he continues to lap at your sensitive and overstimulated flesh. “You’re always so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

His praise, coupled with the way his mouth continues to work at your cunt prolongs the waves of your release, until your legs are trembling against the smooth granite of the countertop, and tears are gathered in your eyes. Your walls spasm weakly one final time and then it’s over, your limbs limp and your brain little more than a puddle of liquid between your ears.

Levi steps back and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable; you know, by the way his eyes turn from steel to molten ore that he wants more; wants to take and take and make you bend to him.

You shouldn’t do it; you know you shouldn’t. You know that what’s happening between you is a manifestation of everything that was toxic about your relationship. Levi, always needing to be in control, who only listened when you were at your breaking point, but could never fully give you what you needed. You, who made far too many excuses, who let him dictate the norms of your relationship because it was easy; being with him was easy, until it wasn’t.

So no, you shouldn’t give in; you should stand firm.

You reach for him anyways. “Levi,”

That’s all it takes; a pleading whimper of his name, your hands outstretched toward him, and Levi pounces. His mouth crashes against yours, and his kiss makes you feel whole even though you know he’s tearing your resolve apart.

And you let him; you let him, because you’d sworn you were going to spend your life with him. You believed, without a moment’s hesitation, that Levi was the one for you — the one you’d share the remainder of your days with, the one with whom you’d create and share a family. It was all you’d wanted, and Levi, to his credit, had assured you it was what he’d wanted, too. At least, he did; once.

And, as Levi’s hands slide under you to peel you off the counter, your legs locking around his waist with practiced ease, you know it’s what you still want; he’s what you want.

For all your desperation to have him, Levi is just as eager for you. He pivots you away from the counter, lips still moving heatedly against yours, only to drop you both to the cold tile floor, spreading you out beneath him as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, your neck. He’s too impatient to carry you to the bedroom, his hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt so he can have you then, now, on the kitchen floor.

“‘S been too long,” he pushes the straps of your sundress from your shoulders, yanking the bodice down to expose your. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, and idly you wonder whether you made the subconscious decision to forgo your bra when you dressed that morning, in the event you’d end up here, under him.

His mouth closes around one pert nipple and you think it was the best decision you could have made; for nothing could possibly feel as right as the sensation of his hot mouth and silken tongue swirling around your soft flesh, nipping and sucking his devotion into your skin.

Your chest is heaving as his hands stroke down your body, pushing and pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. Your legs are still little more than jelly thanks to the intensity of your previous climax, but you manage to wrap them around his hips all the same, clenching in an effort to bring him closer.

“Fuck,” he growls, and he imparts one final nip at your breast before he pulls back, his hands hurriedly shoving the waistband of his trousers and briefs down his hips, just far enough that he can pull his cock free. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, ramrod hard, his tip already leaking with his desire.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are hopelessly in need of him.

Your eyes trace back up from where his length stands hard against his belly back to his face. A pretty pink blush has flushed his cheeks, spreading down his neck and chest, and his eyes are glassy with want.

“Levi,” you plead with a soft moan. “Baby, please —“

Baby. You hadn’t called him that often while you were together, but when you had, it was because you’d been so filled with affection — with love — that his name hadn’t been enough.

It was a slip, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex. In an instant his body is covering yours, and he’s moaning into your mouth as one hand ensnares itself in your hair. Between quick kisses, you swear you hear him whisper your name against your lips, before his tongue swipes back in and steals your breath away.

He breaks your kiss to shove a hand between your bodies, gripping himself at his base and giving his length one, solid pump. You shift, spreading your thighs wider, ready to take him and feel whole once more.

He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance and pauses. Impatiently, you buck your hips forward, trying to take him in, but he twists back just far enough that your wetness can only brush against him, a mockery of how you truly need him.

Levi ignores your howl of frustration. “If you want it, then tell me you’ll come home.”

Your teeth clench hard enough to crack, but you won’t give in; not yet, at least.

He’d been right; you wanted him to sweat a little, and damn if you weren’t going to try and bring him to his knees, if only for a bit. At least until he had you back in the palm of his hand, begging for a crumb of his attention.

So with a gritty determination that borders spite, you lock your ankles against his backside and haul him into you with all your might.

“Jesus — fuck!” His yell echoes off the gleaming stainless steel appliances as you force him fully inside you, unwilling to let him win this battle so soon. He falls forward, an arm flinging out beside your head to catch himself.

Your boldness pays off, for Levi is forced remain still, panting hard and his eyes screwed shut as he adjusts to the sensation of being fully buried in your warmth after so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way the muscles in the arm needed by your head ripples under the force of his restraint. Slowly, his eyes open and the darkness in them makes you pulse and contract around his length, your stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Your mouth falls into a perfect “o” as he begins to move once more. He sits back on his knees, back straight, and his hands come to rest on your hips. He tugs you up just enough that your backside rests against the tops of his thighs, your back forced into an arch away from the floor. His gaze drops to where you’re connected, your base pressed flush against his, and the sight of himself embedded so deeply inside you makes the fingers on your hips tighten.

Slowly, and with careful precision, he withdraws his cock from your heat until only his tip remains lodged in your entrance. His eyes flick to yours and then he slams back into you, forcing your breath from your lungs. He repeats the movement again and again, until your lower lip is wobbling and your fingers are sinking into the corded muscles of his forearms, unable to do anything but cling on as he hammers into you.

The stillness of the kitchen is soon disrupted by the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your breathy moans and Levi’s pants. Between the sharpness of his hips and the cold tile of the kitchen floor, you know you’re likely to walk away from this with bruises, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Especially not when Levi is moving like this, each of his thrusts as punishing as they are calculated.

“What’d I say, huh? No one can fuck you like I can.”

Levi more often than not was a soft lover. Kind; generous; prone to taking his time with you, so much so that it was nearly painful, usually leaving you in a tearful puddle on your mattress, begging him for more.

But now, he’s trying to remind you of what you’re leaving behind by leaving him; he’s punishing you as much as he’s begging you to stay.

The thought makes you moan out, wanton and desperate, and the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

His hips snap harshly against yours, choking off the sound in your throat. “So come back home,” and though you know he means for it to sound like an order, his eyes betray his urgency, his desperation to confirm that you hadn’t really meant it; that you’d given up on him in a moment of stress and exhaustion. “Quit being a brat and come home.”

You want to tell him you can’t — that the door had closed on your relationship the moment you’d pulled it shut behind you that day, but try as you might, the words will not form. All that spills from your mouth are broken utterances of his name, and even those flatten out into pathetic whines as Levi’s callused thumb finds your clit and begins to work, determined to haul you to the edge of your sanity and shove you over.

Your legs spasm around his waist as you begin your ascent to that sacred precipice. Your eyes are rolled back, your head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure, white hot and searing, mounts within you, that coil in your belly winding tight with every impassioned movement of his body against yours.

Distantly, you feel his hold on your hips tighten, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppy. You know it’s only a matter of time before one of you succumbs to your release.

He growls your name, the last syllable tapering off in a small whine. “T-tell me — fuck — tell me where.”

Your eyes fly open and meet his, sobering awareness washing over you like a tidal wave.

Only once in the entire course of your relationship, did Levi ask where he was allowed to cum: the beginning. He’d asked the very first time you’d slept with him, legs in the air and over his shoulders, and once you’d made it clear you were on birth control, that had been the end of the discussion. You’d known that if you’d changed your mind, all you’d needed to do was tell him, and he’d adjust. Truthfully, however, you’d not minded the possibility of your birth control failing; you’d been content to let whatever happen, happen.

You’d told him as much, and he’d told you he shared the sentiment.

But that was then; this time, he’s giving you an out. A way to make sure this remains a one-time thing, a moment of weakness between two people too lost and broken to want anything different.

Levi’s eyes widen as the silence stretches between you, and his hips slow until he stops moving all together. The friction mounting where you’re connected is nearly unbearable, and you know the only way to relieve it is to give him an answer — whatever it may be.

This was it; the decision that will make or break you both. For once, he’s out the ball entirely in your court, and whatever comes after this moment of bliss — or frality — ends depends entirely upon you.

“Inside,” you barely manage to squeak, eyes wide and locked unwaveringly with his.

Even Levi hesitates. “Y/N —“

“Inside,” you repeat with slightly more conviction. “Cum inside me, Levi.”

“Your pill?” His hips have already resumed their pace, and you can feel how he’s grown harder at your insistence. But though his body is already moving in accord with your demand, his eyes look ready to bulge out of his skull when you manage the smallest shake your head.

“Inside.” You beg again, and you dig your heel harder into the steely muscle of his backside, limiting how far he’s able to pull his hips back; to pull out at all.

Because damn if he isn’t the only person in the world with whom you could fathom facing the consequences of fucking raw without even the safety net of the tiny blue pills still sitting at your pharmacy, waiting.

“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth, a tendon in his neck throbbing. “Fuck, you want me to give you a baby? So fuckin’ be it. As long as you’ll stay.”

He shifts over you, planting one foot on the ground so he can use his thigh to pin one of your legs back and to the side. His hand shoves under your other thigh, mimicking the position of your other leg as he mounts you, his full weight pressing you harder into the floor and keeping you spread wide for him.

Gone was the calculated precision of his earlier thrusts; now, Levi only presses his groin firmly against yours as he begins to rut, each rock of his hips pushing his length impossibly deeper into your slick warmth.

A cracked moan of his name signals that the blunt tip of his cock has brushed up against that spot within you that Levi knows will have you coming apart in minutes. And so, with a feral gleam sparking to life in his eyes, he shifts himself to press the head of his cock firmly against it, his hips rolling hard enough into you that you begin moving in time with him, your hips lifting up from the floor only to be pushed back by him as he works.

His balls are heavy against the underside of your ass as he continues to rut into you. You know he’s close when you feel him begin to twitch inside you, and the anticipation of being filled by him — so hot and sweet — makes the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

If you thought you were a mess before, the way Levi mounts you on the floor has you nearly screaming with pleasure, so electric and blinding that all sights of the kitchen fade to white, and your eyes flutter shut.

But Levi won’t allow you to check out; not now, not ever.

“Look at me.” His free hand grabs your jaw in an attempt to force you to meet his eyes. You want to give him what he wants, but it’s far too difficult, what with the way yours are glued to the back of your skull, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“L-Levi,” you try and plead, to explain. But he has always demanded more of you than you knew how to give.

“Look at me.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks, insistent. “If you want my baby, then you’re gonna look at me while you cum.”

He’s doing it to prove a point — to prove that he still has control over you, over whatever it is that remains between you. And you, helpless against the whims of your heart, let him have it, because you love him.

Fuck. You love him.

You force your eyelids open to meet his punishing stare, and then his lips are crashing down against yours in a fiery clash of lips and teeth as both of you fight to consume the other. But you lose first, breaking your kiss to cry out as your climax slams into you with the force of a freight train, knocking your breath clean from your lungs.

It’s powerful; the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in memory, one that sends your back arching sharply up from the cool kitchen tile below, and pulls a howl of Levi’s name from your mouth.

You’re still straddled among the clouds of your pleasure when Levi succumbs to his own. His body tenses for a moment and then he’s coming undone, his hips giving one last, mighty push before he explodes.

He cums with a strangled groan that he silences by searing his mouth against your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses within you.

You don’t try to stop the pleasured grin that forms on your mouth, nor the contented hums which vibrate in your chest as you hold him close to you, savoring the feeling of being warm and full of him.

You know you might regret the decision later; but there, spread out across his — your — kitchen floor, Levi’s full weight bearing down upon you as he continues to flood you with his release, you can’t help but feel that maybe this wasn’t the toxic choice at all. Perhaps this is simply a manifestation of everything that is good in your life.

Good. That’s what you decide to tell yourself as you feel Levi’s lips press sleepily against your neck. This is good; this is right.

Because this — he — is your home.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #aot #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #captain levi #levi x you #attack on titan fanfiction

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euphemiaamillais · 10 months ago

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favourite crime - coriolanus snow

coriolanus snow loves you… but when he learns that he’s being sent back to the capitol—well, he can’t have any loose ends left back in district 12.

dark possessive!coriolanus snow x district 12!reader

cw: 18+//dead dove do not eat!!!//snuff//mentions of loss of virginity//mentions of murder//coriolanus snow’s disgusting inner monologue//murder//strangulation//piv sex//mentions of guns

reader discretion advised!! i do not condone any of these themes, this is merely a work of fiction

IB: @shellxrls

when you’d first laid eyes on private snow at the hob, you never would’ve thought you’d end the night with your lips wrapped around his cock. no, you were a good girl. you didn’t do things like that, and certainly not with strange men in darkened corners. but coriolanus was different. he made your core burn with desire, and your heart skip a beat every time his icy eyes flicked over you.

you spent many evenings with him—friday nights especially—legs spread, letting him touch you in ways you’d never known before. he liked that you had been a virgin; the thought of corrupting this stupid little district girl and turning her into his whore. you belonged to him now, and he’d have you whenever he pleased. you were nothing more than a hole to fill his desire with.

you were head over heels for him—so when he told you he’d been given a discharge to return to the capitol, he’d thought his pretty little doll would be delighted for him. you’d had fat tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running—you’d worn it just for him, to look pretty—clutching at his arms and begging him to stay.

you couldn’t leave district 12, no. you didn’t belong in a place like the capitol.

the way you were begging was so pathetic; getting on your knees, weeping, voice strained with frustration. he couldn’t believe how he’d done this to a girl—lucy gray was never like this. when he’d left her for you she’d simply resigned herself to singing not-so-subtle tunes about how much of an asshole he was. well, at least before he killed her.

you were different. you were his little doll. his and his only. that’s why you had to return to the capitol with him—he’d have packed you into his bag if there had been enough room. it was a shame they didn’t allow for pretty whores to travel with the peacekeepers.

‘please, coryo,’ you cried out, hands clutching at his trousers. ‘don’t leave me, i- i love you!’

your attempts at flattery were ridiculous, but in a way he knew that you did love him. he didn’t love you, exactly. he loved knowing that he possessed you, that your heart entirely belonged to him. but he could never love a whore from the districts—especially not 12 at that.

‘is my bunny sad that i’ll be going home?’ he cooed, clutching your chin with his large hand. you were so small. he could break you if he wanted to…

‘mhm. gonna miss you so bad, coryo,’ you gazed up at him with wide-eyes—they looked so innocent as they glistened with the tears of your upset.

‘gonna miss your cock, and your tongue…’ you sighed wistfully. ‘gonna miss riding you and having you fuck me full of your cum.’

your lips are turned into a pretty pout, and he wonders then and there whether or not he should get his cock out and shove it past them. make you drink up his seed one last time. or perhaps he could bend you over his bunk and put a baby in you—then you’d always have something to remember him by.

no—that would make you a loose end. and he can’t have loose ends. you can’t know that he shot the mayor’s daughter because she pissed him off too much—or that his songbird, lucy gray, now lay somewhere at the bottom of the lake by the cabin.

he decides he can spend one last night with his little bunny. just one night. but then he’s clearing up loose ends. you’d never assume what he had been planning, no, you’re far too dumb to understand that. you see the good in everyone; and that made his chest burn with fury. how could you be so fucking innocent?

‘bunny…’ his voice trailed off. you nod, awaiting him to tell you something, anything—did he love you too?

‘i’ve got an idea. one last special night, just the two of us, hm? down at that cabin by the lake,’ he stroked your cheek. how sweet you looked like this, all red in the face. ‘i’ll give you a night worth remembering. let you sit on my face.’

you gave him an eager smile, and he knew his little bunny was just too stupid to know she was falling into his trap.

—

this was where he’d killed lucy gray, too. that had been a cold, rainy day. just like this one. you’d been so easy to lure into his trap; meeting him by the hanging tree in your prettiest dress—one with tiny pink flowers that came just above the knee. you’d even tucked a flower behind your ear. how sweet.

you couldn’t wait to spend your last night with coryo. you’d been singing all day, and practically skipped to meet him with a little bag full of some food and your toothbrush. you’d flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the consequences of being caught with a peacekeeper. he’d be gone by tomorrow morning anyways.

the walk to the cabin had tired you out considerably, and so you clung to coryo like a pathetic little bunny, letting him lead the way. you’d miss clutching his biceps, feeling the taut muscle beneath his shirt, the way his dog tags slapped against your face as he pounded your cunt raw.

he delighted in the way he’d get to have you one last time, tonight. that at some point, the only thing warm in your body would be his cum, leaking out of that tight cunt of yours. even though you were stupid, he did have to admit that your willingness was something he adored. the way he could just fill you up at any time, and in any hole—you never complained.

he’d corrupted you, watched you bleed as his big cock stretched you out that first time. he loved the way your eyes swelled up with tears and you begged him to stop—‘it hurts, coryo!’ you had clawed your nails into his back. ‘too big!’—but he didn’t stop. he knew you had to learn to take it, and that you did. you had such low self-esteem, you would practically grovel at his feet everytime you so much as made him frown. you’d do anything for him, and that was the way he liked it.

complete control.

the cabin was warmer than the tender breeze outside, and you were so grateful to get in there, shivering in your little dress. coryo had dressed more appropriately, in his day clothes, and he watched as you shivered. god, you were so helpless.

he set his things down, and when you had laid down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while, bundled up in the ratty old blanket, he checked under the floorboards. there it was—one last gun, wrapped in a green cloth. if you tried to run, he’d use it on you. he’d deliberated over which way to kill you, which way wouldn’t damage that pretty little face of yours.

he thought that one simple shot to the chest would do it—it would be instant too. but he wanted to watch the life drain out of you, watch as you whined and begged for him to save you. watch how your brows would furrow and your eyes would grow wide with fear and realisation that you were just another loose end to him. he’d never loved you. he’d loved the control.

but coriolanus had also debated choking you out—maybe he wouldn’t remove his cock from your throat while he fucked it, and pinch the tip of your nose so you’d stop breathing. how pretty you’d look, trying to take his cock and at the same time, fight for your life. he’d shoot his hot load down your dead little throat once you’d stopped breathing. a reminder that you were his, and no one else’s.

no, he couldn’t let you live.

he shut the floorboards when he heard you stirring—you must’ve fallen asleep. how sweet. in a few hours you’d go to sleep one last time—but it would be an eternal slumber. he wanted nothing more than to bring you back to the capitol and make you his little whore—you couldn’t be his wife; think of the shame and embarrassment that would bring. but you could be at his every beck and call, be there to relieve any tension he had. it was just so unfortunate that he wasn’t allowed.

he’d put your body to rest with lucy gray’s, down in the lake to let your pearly white bones be the fishes’ dinner. he couldn’t bury you out in the woods; they’d find you there, one way or another. instead, he’d let them think you’d just disappeared. people disappeared out in the districts all the time. especially stupid little girls. who would care if a pathetic runt who took peacekeeper cock vanished? he doubted you had many friends, and your parents were both dead.

you wouldn’t be missed.

it was some time later that you woke, and your stomach grumbled. coriolanus was sitting in the rickety old armchair, carving what looked to be a spear with his pocketknife. you watched his muscular arms move back and forth as he stripped the stick of its bark. something about his strength made your thighs burn.

you got up, bare feet cold against the wooden floorboards, and peered into your bag. you’d made enough food for the evening; you had even splurged and gotten yourself a precious block of cheese. you figured it was only appropriate, what with it being your last night together and all.

he looked up from his makeshift weapon—though it wasn’t all that, really—and gave you an award-winning smile. your heart leapt at his sweetness. you couldn’t believe he wanted to spend one last night with you.

‘you’re so pretty, bunny,’ he remarked, watching as you laid out the food.

there was bread, a few flimsy butter knifes—you’d not be able to defend yourself with those; besides you were just so weak. you’d even snuck a bottle of wine at the market when the peacekeepers weren’t looking. you wanted it to be special, to send him off happy and thinking of you.

your chest twinged with a heavy sadness. you wished you could go with him, follow him to the capitol and maybe, stupidly, marry him. you wanted to be his forever. you’d give him lots of children and they’d have white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. you’d make sure he was satisfied every day, and cook and clean and whatever he required of you.

but you were to remain here, in district 12. marry a man covered in coal who worked himself to the bone in the mines. have skinny little babies who starved from the lack of food, struggle tooth and claw just to put dinner on the table every night. your time with coriolanus had been your only taste of luxury, of richness. he’d told you how in the capitol, there were buildings that reached the sky, and that every night people would feast on the finest food from the districts. you were reminded, with your own hunger pangs, the sacrifice that you had to make.

no, you’d never be good enough for him. future president of panem.

‘coryo, come eat,’ you said, standing proudly beside your food which you’d laid out neatly on the table.

he obliged—he was hungry, after all. he’d not eaten since last night. the food looked tolerable too, and the bottle of wine tempted him to be more considerate. just so his little bunny wouldn’t be suspicious. he doubted you were clever enough to figure out his intentions anyways.

‘i hope you like it,’ you remarked meekly, sitting down beside him and beginning to devour the food.

he opened the bottle of wine, and although it was completely uncivilised, he took a large swig. it was terribly sour, not like the good stuff they had in the capitol. he reckoned you’d never even tasted real wine. how pathetic.

‘how lucky did i get, with my little bunny,’ he smiled, stroking your head fondly.

‘i’m the lucky one,’ you said in your saccharine tone. he wanted to roll his eyes—you were so sickeningly sweet. ‘you’ve been so good to me, coryo.’

‘yeah?’ he asked. he liked how much you sought to stroke his ego. it made his cock hard the way you were just so utterly desperate to please him in every manner.

‘mhm,’ you said, chewing on a piece of bread. the cheese made it taste so delicious; sweet and creamy.

‘does bunny like the way i always give her whatever she wants? fill her up with my cum just like she asks?’ he watched as your cheeks burned red with abashed shame.

‘coryo…’ you whined, pressing your thighs together.

he loved the way you were already squirming, just from the mention of being fucked. what a fucking slut. he bet you had soaked through your panties, just waiting from him to bury his cock deep inside you as you whined for him to go harder. he’d show you harder. perhaps he’d wrap his big hands around your tiny, little neck, and squeeze too hard. god, you’d look so pretty with the air sucked out of your lungs, gasping and panting as he filled you up one last time.

‘oh bunny, don’t tell me you’re wet already?’ he cooed, standing up from his chair.

whatever, he didn’t really need to eat anyways. he couldn’t possibly be hungry when he’d been feeding himself with the own sick ideas in his head. food could wait—he’d need to tend to his little bunny first.

you nodded dumbly, clenching your thighs as the slickness pooled in your panties. you couldn’t help it, it was your last night with coryo. you wanted him more than anything else, more than you ever had done before.

‘p-please,’ you whimpered pathetically.

‘does bunny want me to fuck her? make her cum?’ he laughed, stroking your smooth arm. you were so warm. so full of life.

‘mhm, yes,’ you moaned, slipping one hand between your thighs to rub at your aching clit.

seeing this, coriolanus yanked your hair, causing you to gasp and sputter. how dare you touch yourself? you were his! his to have and do as he pleased with! you felt a few tears spring to your eyes, and he laughed, seeing how stupid you looked, weeping because he pulled your hair. he wondered how much you’d cry when he squeezed at your airways; watching them constrict between his big hands.

‘you know my rules, bunny,’ he clucked his tongue in disapproval. you glanced up at him, his icy eyes singed with coolness.

‘i’m sorry, sir,’ you replied. that name made his cock stir. he couldn’t keep himself from devouring you for much longer.

he dragged you from the chair and shoved you down against the bed. you were giggling and gasping like a little fool—it made his blood boil. you wouldn’t be laughing when your heart pumped with its last beat and your legs went still.

‘be a good girl, bunny,’ he commanded, trapping one leg between your thighs to stop you from grinding against the mattress.

you watched as he unbuckled his pants—he was never one for dawdling, preferring to get straight to the point—and eyed his bulge hungrily. you wanted to use your mouth on him, feel him stretch your lips out and fuck your throat as you gagged on his length. you’d miss how big he was—so big that you often ached for days after he fucked you.

he cupped your chin in his hand again, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw. he had no intention of being gentle with you, this final time. you were merely his to use for pleasure. a little fuckdoll to fill up with his cum.

you moaned as he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprang free. you would never get used to the sight of it—the huge, throbbing thing. you couldn’t wait to have him bury it inside of you, feeling it nudge against your most sensitive spots.

‘need you, coryo,’ you panted. ‘need you in me.’

you pulled your panties off, feeling your own slickness pressing at your inner thighs. coriolanus grabbed the base of his cock with one hand, and pushed you down against the bed with the other. he wanted to take you like this, so he could watch the life drain out of your eyes, one last time.

‘gonna fuck you so good, bunny,’ he mused, hiking your dress up and sighing at the sight of your wet cunt. he would miss it, he did have to admit. what a shame it wouldn’t get wet for him anymore in a few hours. but if he couldn’t have you, nobody could.

‘mhm,’ you gasped as he pressed the tip of his cock at your sopping entrance.

god, you were so pathetic. so wet for him, so fucking desperate for his cock. he knew you probably wouldn’t have even let anyone have you, after he left. but he couldn’t bear the thought that somebody could take advantage of you, coax you into their bed and let them bury their cock in you. no, your cunt was his only. nobody else could dare touch his bunny.

he groaned as he pushed himself all the way in, feeling your walls stretch around him. you were still so tight, even after all the abuse to your hole with his big cock, the way he stretched you out, you were still tight as the first time he’d had you. you didn’t complain as much anymore though, not like you had that first time—weeping for days after with the dull ache of being fucked.

coriolanus began to thrust, grabbing your hips with firm hands, bucking into you with lusty vigour. your tits bounced in your dress, and you couldn’t help but gasp and mewl each time his cock bucked into your tight hole. his cock throbbed, feeling you clench around him, the way you sucked him in with your slick want.

he’d never forget this night. the last time he’d have you. the way you were so utterly perfect.

‘taking me so well,’ he grunted, watching as you moaned at the pleasant feeling of his big cock burying itself deep inside you, brushing against your cervix.

‘harder,’ you gasped, clutching at the sheets. you wanted to know you were his.

coriolanus couldn’t resist this, of course. he wrapped your legs around his waist, and plunged himself deeper into you. his balls were slapping against your perineum now, and the cabin filled with the reverberation of skin against skin.

you kept gasping and begging as he drove himself into you. you could feel yourself edging closer—you’d been so wet the whole way here, you were soaking at the thought of him having you one last time.

it was beginning to piss him off, though, the way you were being so loud. normally, he loved it, your moans letting everybody know how well he was fucking you, branding you as his own with his cum. he wondered what you’d do if he choked you right now—would you attempt to run? if you did, he’d get that rifle and shoot you. he couldn’t risk having you running about district 12 when somebody else could get their hands on you.

no more loose ends, he reminded himself.

he reached his free hand out, caressing your cheek, and then trailing them down to your neck. you giggled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck—it was so little that his whole hand could fit you inside of it. he’d choked you before, and so you didn’t assume anything of it. he pressed lightly, and you let out a sigh, body humming with want.

‘good girl,’ he mused, pounding you with his cock at the same time.

you let out a pretty moan, pussy clenching just right around him; he couldn’t help but grunt at how pleasant it was. you’d probably still be tight for a few hours after he kills you. maybe he’d fuck you again, but you wouldn’t be warm, or wet. just cold. he decided against it. he’d fill you up with his cum just as the life drained out of your eyes.

he pressed harder, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. it hurts, and you glance up at him with a worried look, eyes stretching wide. he doesn’t pay heed to this, and merely keeps thrusting, moving your hips closer to his to hit at a new angle.

he saw your breathing go rapid, and your eyes dart about the room in panic. poor bunny. he really didn’t want to have to kill you, but you can’t be his forever, and how can he accept that? if you’re dead, you’re nobody’s but his. especially since he’ll fuck his cum deep into your stiffening body; you’ll have part of him in you forever.

he could hear the sounds of your vocal chords straining as he clasped tighter at your throat. it would be a shame that you’d be left with a rosy imprint of his fingers around your neck, but it made him smile a little, that you’d be branded with his mark until you rotted.

‘coryo!’ you whimpered, clawing at his chest.

‘shhh, be quiet, bunny. take my cock like a good girl,’ he murmured, slamming into you.

it hurt—the way he was crushing your neck, your tendons beginning to strain around his touch. it felt like there was no air left in the world; you were beginning to grow tired, your breaths haggard.

‘p-please,’ you felt tears spring to your eyes, and watched as he laughed, a maniacal grin creeping across his lips.

he shook his head, grunting as your walls contracted around his cock. he was so close, but you were being a bitch and taking too long to die. he clamped down on you harder, causing a gasp to escape your lips. you couldn’t speak—your hands were clawing about desperately, legs flailing about.

you were terrified—what was he doing?! why did he want to hurt you? just minutes ago he was telling you how much he wished you could come back to the capitol with him and be his wife. he wanted to dress you up like a pretty doll and make you grow fat with his children.

‘don’t cry, bunny,’ he laughed, watching as your legs stilled.

you were so tired. it felt like there was no blood in your legs; they grew stiff and numb. your head spun.

‘you’re all mine bunny, forever,’ he smiled as your body grew limp.

you were terrified—eyes beginning to lose their shine, lips trembling with fear. you couldn’t feel your arms now, or the way he was bucking into you. his thrusts were slower now—he was close. watching the life drain out of you made his blood course through his veins with a delicious speed.

you mouthed out a ‘why’ as your body went completely frail. in one last act of betrayal, your cunt gushed around him as he squeezed your neck; airways completely constricted. your lips were beginning to blue now, and he frowned—he had really liked how plump and red they were when you sucked him off.

coriolanus felt himself finish; cock shooting thick loads into your still-wet cunt. he couldn’t help but grunt as he spurted himself into your pretty hole. the way you’d finished just as your heart had stopped beating and your lungs had given out. your final breath wasted on cumming. you really were a whore.

he ran his hands over your body, frowning at the ugly ring around your neck. at least he didn’t have to deal with your blood. that would’ve been so fucking messy. having to mop it up, and the way you would’ve screamed. at least you couldn’t scream when his hand was clamped around your neck.

when he pulled out, he watched with sick delight as his cum spilled out of your pussy. the thick, pearly loads trickled down your thighs. your limbs would be pliable and floppy for another two hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to fuck you again. that was too far, even for him.

he looked at your face, which was stretched into one of fear. your eyes were still, but wet with the tears. so were your cheeks—they still retained that innocent rosiness which he so loved.

he wished lucy gray had looked so pretty when he’d killed her. she’d screamed when his bullet pierced her chest cavity, and she’d bled all over his jeans as he’d held her. you were so docile, even in death. you’d given him one last thank you when you’d came, and he knew you’d be his forever.

darling, dearest, dead. the words rang clear in his head. he’d read them in an old novel. they were fittingly appropriate for the situation. it was so sad that he had to kill you, but it was a bitter and necessary pill to swallow. he had to return home to the capitol, marry that bitch livia cardew, and set his sights on what mattered most.

you were just a little doll he’d had his fun with on his summer vacation—you were just a poor district girl. what did you matter? nobody would miss you, and when he became president, nobody would know that he’d watched the life drain out of three pathetic girls.

that would be terrible for his image. he did what needed to be done. his pretty bunny would be his forever, and he’d secure his place in the world.

no more loose ends.

641 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 2 years ago

Text

Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt: female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!

Contents: Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.

Wordcount: 4400

Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.

Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.

The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.

“No,” you said through gritted teeth.

You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.

You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. ��Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”

When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.

“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.

Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”

The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.

When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.

“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.

Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.

It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.

“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”

You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”

You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.

He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.

The fox flicked an ear and looked away.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”

He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.

“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”

He just stared at you without moving.

“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”

You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.

He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.

“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”

A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.

“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.

With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.

“The fuck…?”

Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.

There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.

You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.

You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”

“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.

“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.

“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”

“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.

“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”

“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.

You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.

“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.

The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.

“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”

“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”

“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”

He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”

“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.

From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”

“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”

He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”

There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.

“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”

“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”

The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”

Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”

He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.

To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”

The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.

He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”

“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.

Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.

You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”

“May I help you cook?”

“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.

He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.

“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.

In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”

You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.

“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.

“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”

You laughed. “Thanks?”

After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.

One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”

“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”

Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.

Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”

Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.

He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”

“It’s —”

A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”

His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”

“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”

You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.

“Oh.”

“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”

Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you smiled.

Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.

Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.

When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.

He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.

You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.

“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.

His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.

The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.

When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.

He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.

Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.

“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”

“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.

He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog

#kitsune #male kitsune #male fox spirit #fox spirit #fox shapeshifter #fae #shapeshifter #male kitsune x female reader #female reader #male fae x female reader #fae x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #kitsune boyfriend

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razorblade180-heated · 11 months ago

Text

Early Christmas Gift

[Warning, smut. Like the whole thing]

It had been a looooog day for Jaune Arc. The end of a crazy mission that had far too many explosions, the loss of his wallet for half the day which forced him to miss his boat, and finally, bad turbulence on a flight all the way back to Vale. Now it was the dead of night and he was wheeling his luggage down the sidewalks. At least he didn’t vomit on the ride, this time.

“Note to self, Vacou kids are amazing pickpockets.” He mumbled aloud. Thank goodness Ren was quick on his feet and that Nora could be as scary as she could be sweet. If not, things could’ve been worse. Now that he was back in the city, his Scroll was practically blowing up with messages. Notably, his girlfriend, Yang, called a little more than Ruby. Before he could finally return a call, his scroll rang with Yang’s name.

He laughed nervously and smiled, preparing himself as he answered. “H-”

“SO YOU ARE ALIVE!? WHAT THE HECK MAN!?” The blonde yelled, relieved and annoyed.

Honestly, less aggressive than he expected. “Hi baby. I’m sorry.” Jaune deflated as he spoke. “Today has been a day.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Weren’t you supposed to be home seven hours ago? Did the mission go south? You didn’t get hurt did you?”

“No, the mission was pretty Nora core. All and all we made good time but then someone stole my stuff, missed my boat; lots of other very, very exhausting stuff. I’m walking home as we speak.”

“Wow. That’s…definitely a lot. Wait, you’re walking? It’s nearly midnight. You could’ve called me or someone to pick you up from the port.”

“I figured everyone was asleep.”

“Get real. Do you really think I’d be sound asleep before I knew you were okay?”

Those words warmed his heart greatly. “Thanks Yang. I’m fine though. Vale isn’t some ghost town at night. I am sorry though. We had plans to meet today. You must’ve been waiting a while.”

“You…could say that.” Yang laughed sheepishly. “Here I was, ready to see my boyfriend after we finished our missions and his annoying personal challenge was achieved.”

“A month without sex is a test of will and power.” He defended.

“November is the time for good food and being thankful. Anything else is wild. Besides, we’ve both gone years without fun stuff. Why add a month?”

“Heh, I don’t think being a single or a virgin counts. You’re just opted in at that point. How did your mission go by the way?”

“Got home on time.”

“Ouch… where’d the warmth go?” He teases.

“I know you’re fine now. If you want warmth then…maybe I should see you?”

“You’re an island away. Even if you caught the final flight I’d feel guilty. Though if it makes you feel better…I’ve been missing you all day.”

“…Always the charmer. I’ve definitely been missing you too.” She said, a little more bashful than usual.

“There’s always tomorrow. I’m definitely not going anywhere. Aside from grocery shopping.”

“Have you eaten?”

“My apartment should still have something edible. I’ll probably grab a snack, bathe, and crash.” He finally reached his building’s street. “Anyways, I’ve officially made it home safely. Just several feet away. Now you can have pretty dreams knowing I’m safe.”

“Nope. Not until you go through your front door. I’m not hanging up until you do.”

“Okay, okay. Heh, honestly with my luck something crazy would happen if I hung up early.” He laughed.

“Please don’t jinx yourself.”

Jaune made his way down the hall, up some annoying stairs, and to the front of his door.

“Kay, now you are free to sleep.”

“Have a wonderful night, handsome.” Yang made a kiss noise over the phone and hung up.

Just like that, Jaune felt the warmth again. She was so good to him. He’d definitely have to treat her to a dinner or some kind of club date. The man found his keys and went inside his home at last. Instantly his nose was greeted with wonder and bliss. That was…odd. He put down his belongings and walked over to the kitchen; a flick of the light revealed a hot box of pizza. Jaune had to do a double take to make sure this was his place. He then noticed Yang’s emblem drawn in orange on the box.

“Ah, that’s why she asked if I ate.” He smiled before quickly going back to being confused. How was the pizza hot? Yang had a key to his place but when was she over here? Did she leave briefly before he called? Unless…

Jaune looked towards the absolute darkness that was his living room and squinted. Not that it helped with the balcony blinds shut. “Yang?”

His call was answered with snickering. “Hehehe, I do love watching your brain at work. Although…” She pulled the metal lamp string next to her to light up the room. “You’re also cute when it’s derailed.

And derailed it was. There his cute girlfriend was, sitting on his black leather recliner his family had bought him. Her smile was cheeky as well as ear to ear. She sure caught him by surprise, but the real shock was her outfit. A silly little Santa hat on top of her head jingled while the only thing on her body was a red tube top with white frills that was fighting for his life, a matching miniskirt that barely went halfway down her thighs, and very, very long red stockings that compensated for the skirt’s lack of…well, skirt.

Jaune’s mouth went dry and his eyes embarrassingly wide. It was as if Yang had knocked the exhaustion out of them. He wasn’t quite sure where he should’ve been looking at first, but then noticed despite how confidently the lady sat there with her legs crossed, her cheeks were branded pink and her gaze, while excited, was also avoiding complete eye contact.

“For the record, I’ve been in this for quite awhile.” She said, breaking the silence. “It took guts to commit to this surprise.”

“Now I’m curious what you would’ve done if I had called you to pick me up!”

“Then Remnant would’ve gotten a hot Mrs. Claus on a motorcycle.” She smirked. “Although I’m actually very relieved that was not the case. It’s cold out there!”

Not the issue Jaune thought she was going to say but he rolled with it. Not that he had much choice. Yang finally stood up and slowly walked towards him, draping her arms over his shoulders and giving a more endearing grin despite her obvious flustered face. “Welcome home. As you can see, I missed you.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I can feel the yearning. Hehe, you look…wow. Talk about an early present.” His hands automatically went to hold her waist.”

Yang got on her toes and gained a very sweet and joyful kiss. She’s glad her efforts paid off, but she could tell Jaune really had a long day. “Go grab a slice and unwind yourself. I’m not going anywhere so- mmph!?”

Her offer was outright denied, thrown to the side as Jaune pulled her body closer and back into a more passionate kiss that fluttered her heart and stole her breath. The longer kept her in his arms, the more she found herself melting into the embrace to the point her knees buckled before he allowed her to breathe again.

Frazzled, Yang found herself stammering and chewing on her bottom lip. “I um- I uhh can wait a while longer for you to rest.”

“I’ve made you wait long enough.” He said with yearning and restrained lust as he pulled her back into a kiss that took custody of her tongue.

Yang felt herself rise up onto her toes as Jaune’s hands found residence on her shapely rear. He didn’t think twice about squeezing it as he picked her up and allowed her legs to wrap around his waist. It didn’t take long before her man went a step further in sliding his hands under the provocative skirt. Jaune quickly ended their kiss to gaze at her as her face grew red from his curious expression.

“No underwear huh?” He said, sinking his digits into warm flesh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Funny. I was wondering the same thing.” Her hands rubbed his broad chest. “Come sit on the couch for you me will ya?”

He followed her quest and sat right in the middle of the couch. Yang was about to get off him for the next step, but was clearly taken by surprise when his teeth tugged her tube top down, freeing her massive chest before ravishing them. A jolt ram through her spine as his warm tongue lapped around her nipples. His hands kept her waist pressed down on her lap to the point she had no choice but to feel his pulsing cock through tight jeans. Nevertheless, Yang couldn’t stop her hips from grinning along it, dampening the fabric severely.

“H-Hey…wait! I-mmm” Her voice shook, feeling him sink his teeth into her. Jaune leaned forward, putting Yang on her back as he continued devouring her body. “Jaune! Hold on~ I…had a whole routine~” Yangs mewls only served to make him more daring. His tongue trailed up her neck, causing her entire body to arch as he met her lips again for another kiss. Yang was overwhelmed with the scent of the boy and his rough day, which she increasingly found more and more dulling to her senses. She didn’t even notice Jaune had unzipped his pants until she felt his buring hot tip rubbing along her folds. “Mmmph”

Jaune could already feel her lips quivering as they coated his cock. To get this excited so quickly; he wasn’t one to talk though. He began pushing his hips continuously into the molten warmth.

“Aaaaah!” Yang felt the wind leave her body as Jaune’s thick cock spread her body apart and filled her inch by inch until she felt the weight of his balls against her ass. He slowly began dragging himself out halfway before plummeting back in as he grunted. “Ah fuck!” Yang gripped his forearms as her body tripped to adjust.

“Gods, I missed you. You’re so wet.”

“Who’s fault is that!?” Yang’s breathing became sharper as Jaune started moving. “Nng, too big. Rock solid too~”

“It has been a long month. I’m dying for a release.”

“How do you think I feel!? It hasn’t been easy for me either.” She pouted. Suddenly she felt his movements slow. “Jaune?” He raised himself up and looked down at her with a shocked look from between her legs. “What?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t touch yourself the entire time?”

Yang felt heat rush to her face. Looking at him became a lot harder so she turned her head to the side. “What would be the point? Even if I used a toy, I just wouldn’t feel as good as you.”

A brief silence fell on them. Yang awaited his response when she suddenly felt him twitch inside her. Jaune’s hands held her waist tightly and raised her lower body off the couch with ease, causing her to look his way. “What are you-” was all she could manage before seeing Jaune thrust his hips forward, causing another series of jolts as he began to go all out.

Yang’s mouth fell open and stayed that way as voiceless, broken cries left her throat until a scream finally broke out. “AAAAGHN~” her brain became a mess, her eyes fluttering at the sight of jaune mercilessly fucking her pussy until their sex became loud and wet. Her stomach felt like fire as her hips became numb with the pleasure of being turned inside out. Each deep rub made her gasp for air she couldn’t gain while her chest bounced to the rough rhythm. “B-baby. Baby! Aaah!” Yang reached for him and he gladly returned to her embrace. She knew despite her pleas, his pace would not falter; nor did she want it to. Their pleasure had built too quickly to turn back now. With a final raise of his hips, Yang felt the man bury himself deep inside and release a rush of heat that made her body squeeze him for more as her vision blurred momentarily. When she recovered, Jaune was already pulling out slowly and giving both of their bodies a break. Still, if you were to go by appearances, Jaune’s body hadn’t calmed down in the slightest.

“Looks like all of you missed me.” Yang huffed, sitting up as her legs gained some feeling. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to have a kid.”

Jaune watched the woman run her middle finger along her slit to pick up some of the lust he left dripping in her. Yang looked him dead in the eyes as she lapped up the naughty taste, making him blush.

“I had an entire routine planned out and you threw it to the side. Not that I mind.”

“You can’t say the things you said a

and wear this without expecting me to get riled up.”

“Heh, touché.” Her gaze fell on his erection, the near seven inches of solid flesh was still ready. Might as well start her plans now, Yang thought. She leaned forward, crawling on hands and knees until she was in the perfect spot to lower her head.

Jaune shuddered as he felt her hot lips wrap around his length to lick him lavishly. Now he knew Yang was horny for sure. Giving head was never her favorite activity in this fun process, but now her face was happily burying itself in his lap repeatedly. His left hand brushed the blonde bombshell’s hair aside for an unobstructed view of her work.

Yang ran her tongue up and down the girth base, polishing it while making faint moans and wet smacks to turn him on more. She must’ve been losing her mind because the way his taste and smell overwhelmed her senses in the best way possible. Her grip on reality only came back when Jaune's hand struck her rear suddenly, his middle and ring finger slipping inside her body to stir her desires harder.

“Mmmm~”

Jaune couldn’t stop his smirk. “Oh you like that?”

“Mmhmm~” Yang readied herself and pressed down in one motion to feel this man in her throat before coming up for air. Yang could feel his digits grow relentless as they sped up. Unable to focus, she freed Jaune from her mouth in a fit of panting and mewls. Her hips couldn’t stop shaking, pushing against his hand to feel each knuckle rub deeper. “Gods, why is this so good?”

“Cum if you need to. Let me see that pretty face.”

“No~ I…I wanted to use my tits on you. But now I…I’m…” Yang let out a long, heartfelt sigh. How did things get this messy so fast? “Put it back in me. I want it.”

Jaune retracted his fingers and did his best to regain his own composure; a difficult task when the love of his life not only pleaded, but brazenly kissed along his shaft in a stupor of want and desire. “Ngh, Yang, get on my lap if you want it.”

Yang got on her knees then swung her right leg to the other side of Jaune’s waist. The boy wasted no time massaging and kneading her chest, riddling it with bits as Yang cooed. Her body dropped slowly, piercing herself onto Jaune’s flesh.

“Aaaaghn~” her hands ran up his chest and gripped his shoulders as Yang started bouncing on his lap, putting all her weight down each time to feel her womb get knocked on. Jaune’s mouth stayed busy where it was but his hands returned to her rear, molding it like clay as he helped push her down to the base. Her hips buckled. “Fuck!”

Heavy, wet smacks echoed every time her ass slammed onto Jaune’s lap. The man couldn’t believe the tightness that surrounded him; the way it clung it his length and coated it with ecstasy that reached his thighs. Engulfed by Yang’s heat, Jaune finally took a second to separate his lips from his body and removed his shirt. Yang’s arms all but sprang out towards him right after, pulling him into a feverish kiss while her hips moved on their own before his hands returned.

“You’re so in love with my ass tonight.” Yang hummed.

“I’m in love with it every night.” He continued kneading it, his fingers rubbing all of it. “Hey, so how much did you prepare for today?”

Yang didn’t get the question at first, until she felt a single finger tracing her asshole. Yang couldn’t hide the state of blushing red he put her into with his pesky intention. To make it worse, her body already gave him the answer to the question. Yang buried her face into the crook of Jaune’s neck and quivered as the naughty middle finger pressed into her slowly. A moan came from her throat and her hips worked over time on his cock as Jaune began to play his little game.

He could already feel her walls frantically twitching but he knew he could make Yang go crazy. He wanted to make the month of emptiness mean everything. He nipped at her ear as he continued fingering her. “You’re such a good girl, you that? Doing all this for me; allowing me to cut loose~” he thrusted up suddenly.

“AAAHH!” His nipping turned into feverish licks as well. Yang tried staying strong but now he was meeting her thrusts and pumped his finger into her more quickly. Her body became repeated jolts of pleasure to the point Yang could only bite her lover’s shoulder as a way to soften her growls.

Jaune’s only panting became like a drunken breath as he approached his end. “Good girl~” he cooed, leaning right into her ear and whispering it one more time. “Gooood girl.” He pressed her hips down against his waist, going as deep as possible. “Here’s your reward!” He grunted, cumming for the second time.

Every muscle in Yang’s body tensed all at once. She was certain she’d scream, yet the immense rush of pleasure stole voice, leaving nothing but a silent yell as she clung to him like a girl on a wild roller coaster. Pulse after pulse, she felt her insides get marked by Jaune. The dork was brazen enough to call it a “reward” and she had half a mind to thank him for it. They were going crazy. Not that she hated it for a second.

Yang felt Jaune relax under her body while she found the strength to set up after his hands finished toying with her. “Wow, that was- hmm” Yang stopped short as she witnessed Jaune struggling to keep his eyes open. Poor guy was spent! It was almost hard not to laugh. “Pfft, gee, looks like someone should’ve eaten.”

“I was hungry for other things.” He groaned, wrapping his arms around her torso and resting his face in her chest. “But now that pizza sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“Oh what to do with you?” Yang giggled, her hands combing through his hands. Truthfully, she wanted him to stay inside like this a little longer, but the last thing she wanted was her boyfriend withering away. Yang kissed the top of his head. “I’ll go fix you a plate.”

“You’re wonderful.”

“And you’re outstanding. My hips are still floating.” She said, embarrassed by her own honesty.

“Let’s wash up together after we eat.”

“Only washing?” She teased, only to feel him twitch inside of her. Yang gasped a little. Jaune raised his head to look into her eyes with a gaze that made her chew on her bottom lip again. Tonight was going to be a long night. “Welcome home.”

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #rwby dragonslayer

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inbarfink · 10 months ago

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The interpersonal conflicts between the two Membrane siblings is an incredibly important part of Invader Zim’s comedy, and also its emotional core and the characterization of these two kids. With Gaz, this tends to be, like, the primary way she interacts with episode plots. For Dib, his interactions with Gaz tend to bring out his more Zim-like traits and are the main refutation for his Terminal Case of Main Character Syndrome.

But, also, I see a lot of assertions about their dynamic in the show that are often… kinda not very accurate? Anything from ‘Gaz beats up Dib on a regular basis’, to ‘all of Gaz’s actions are Perfectly Reasonable' to 'Gaz used to be Perfectly Reasonable and then Season 2 Flanderized her'. So, I think I want to do something a bit more… comprehensive for them.

So here is...

My Big Overview of Dib and Gaz!!

I’m going to try and go over each and every one of their conflicts in the show, go over who was most likely (the most) in the wrong, how the other reacted to it, if there’s an escalation, if it feels consistent with other episodes, how I personally see their motivations… obviously like every analysis of a piece of media it’s going to be at least kinda subjective, so I would love to hear how your view of The Siblings differ from my own - but I’m going to try and be as comprehensive and well-reasoned and balanced as I can be.

"The Nightmare Begins"

Gaz doesn’t get a lot in the first IZ episode, but she does get this!

Gaz: Dib drank the last soda. He will pay!

So, okay, it’s not entirely clear if Gaz has a good reason to be mad at Dib or not. Like, yeah, as we’re going to get to with other episodes - Dib might have a Problem of eating things that belong to Gaz. But the implication here is that this was everyone’s Soda, and she’s just mad that Dib finished it. But like, someone had to drink that last soda at some point, right?

Gaz’s anger could be justified, if, for example, she explicitly asked Dib to leave one last soda for her or if Dib already drank the majority of it… but that's all speculation. From what actually exists in canon (which is just this one line), it seems rather unfair.

But also it doesn’t matter that much, because while Gaz expresses frustration and, like, a desire for horrible vengeance - she (as far as we know, at least) doesn’t really do anything about it. She just gets herself a juice and once Dib comes home she’s just talking to him like normal (that is to say, somewhat derisively, but not openly hostile).

So really, regardless of whether drinking the last soda is a legitimate grievance or not - all Gaz did was express a minor and petty frustration in a kinda melodramatic way without doing anything about it. She didn't even do it to Dib's face!

"Nanozim"

The first proper Gaz episode! And with it, a lot more Dib-Gaz interactions! And the introduction of one of Gaz’s major grievances with her brother… that she finds him annoying.

Dib: Maybe they'll let me host the show. My own episode! Gaz: I'm only 13 levels away from finishing this game so I either finish the game or make you wish I was never born.

Now, Dib should have the right to be as Weird as he damn pleases. Buuut… Gaz also should have the right to be left alone and Not be Bothered by people she finds grating. So while getting mad at Dib for just existing and doing his thing near her would be unfair, Dib is explicitly trying to talk to her - and she’s got the right to not want to participate in the conversation. Especially if she’s also trying to do her own Thing at the same time.

Note that she only really speaks out when the conversation really turns into stroking Dib’s own ego, that’s when she decides that talking to him is not worth risking her Gamer Time. And, much like with ‘the Nightmare Begins’, despite the harshness of her words - she doesn’t really do anything and Dib doesn’t really react. Making it seem like Gaz is prone to over-dramatic proclamations of vengeance but she doesn’t have much bite.

Hell, when Dib starts shoving his hands in her face while she plays. She’s not aware, or at least she doesn't acknowledge, that his behavior is legitimately out of his control. But all that leads too is… another empty threat and her leaving the living room to get away from him.

Gaz: I'm letting you live this time, Dib, but only because I'm still getting through this last level.

And when she shows up again, we have a bit of a Turnabout! This time, Gaz is the one trying to initiate a conversation and Dib is the one brushing her off so he can focus.

Gaz: Is that Zim? Is this an online game? Dib: Gaz, please. I need to concentrate.

And actually, in that case, both of them were more ‘justified’. In the sense that at least Gaz was trying to talk to Dib on what she thought was a shared interest - a game he likes and she thinks looks interesting. In contrast to Dib only wanting to talk about something only he is interested in and how great he is and all the praise he’s going to get. And Dib obviously had very good reasons to take the ‘game’ very seriously and choosing to focus over small-talk with his sister.

The problem being that Dib's pride blinds him to the obvious solution of letting his über-gamer sister who can’t be hurt from the inside by Zim take the wheel. From Gaz’s perspective he is actually more reasonable than reality, because she thinks he’s not sharing a cool game he found with her because he want to play it, rather than risking his own life because he feels the need to be the one who best Zim.

And she’s being a bit of a pushy backseat gamer herself, but not really, like, more than standards for lil gaming kids. And she doesn’t actually do anything but ask to play up until Dib is literally unable too. Although she does push him aside.

Then she unknowingly saved his life, and knowingly helped him humiliate Zim. And… should we count Gaz calling the game ‘stupid’ when she thought it was actually very important to Dib as another example of her insulting him? I dunno, all-in-all both Membrane Siblings acted relatively grounded and reasonable in IZ Character Standards. Like, this is pretty standard Mildly Jerkish Sibling Behavior from both of them.

"Parent Teacher Night"

Gaz laughed at Dib when Zim splashed him with punch

Although she also laughed at Dib splashing Zim with punch.

So really, this isn’t really specific antagonism against Dib - she just really finds petty minor acts of assholery funny regardless of who's doing them. Although I guess you can argue that she should 'side' with her brother.

"Dark Harvest"

Yet another classic example of ‘Dib bothers Gaz by ranting about something she doesn’t care about, and Gaz retaliate by being uninterested’

Dib: Incredible! You see Gaz, to defeat my enemy I must study my enemy, then become my enemy, then move in with my enemy, then wear my enemy's clothes then- Gaz: You're in my light.

There’s not even, like a toothless violent threat here this time, she’s just making it clear that she’s not interested in a way that's kinda rude.

"The Wettening"

Since I am here to discuss the antagonism between Gaz and Dib, I won’t go into much detail into this iconic scene

Outside of it being yet another demonstration of how often Gaz’s threats of physical violence usually seem more like toothless edgelordism than anything you should take seriously.

Gaz: If you wanna keep all your limbs, Zim, you will put me down, you will put me down NOW!

Our actual main focus here (outside of some mild snark from Gaz that Dib didn’t even pay much mind to)

Gaz: I'm leaving with or without you, Dib. Preferably without you.

Is what happens right after that Zim Umbrella Situation - Gaz is all set to actually make her threat a bit more than just talk

And then Dib splashes Zim and Gaz is caught in the ‘crossfire’.

And, y’know, Gaz doesn’t give a shit about Zim and Dib’s rivalry - she doesn’t see Zim as a threat and just sees Dib’s ‘fate of the world’ work as a selfish way to stroke his own ego. So while being splashed by a puddle is a relatively small slight (at least if you’re not Zim), it’s the reasoning and the fact that Dib shows no remorse or even really acknowledges what he did to Gaz that, I think, is what really sets her off.

Gaz: THAT was your fate of the world work!?! Jumping in a puddle!?! You do realize I'm gonna have to destroy you now. Dib: It was worth it. Score one for the human race! Score nothing for the Zim... thingy race. Gaz: I will destroy you.

So after this little threat, we don't really see much more antagonism from her outside of the usual snarky comments and general hostility to Dib trying to share his interests with her.

Until after Zim has delivered his ultimate defeat. That is when Gaz also unleashes her revenge.

Throwing a single water balloon at Dib.

This is really one of my favorite Gaz Revenge Moments of the entire show, because on one hand her anger is understandable and her way of getting back at Dib is technically perfectly proportional. He splashed her, she splashed him back. But the timing of when she does it just adds this angle of rubbing salt on Dib’s wounds that just makes it hurts so much more without her actually having to do anything extra.

"Battle-Dib"

Now, this is actually where you can say that there was a shift in Gaz’s character. Because while Dib eating her pizza right out of her hands was undeniably a Dick Move. I think that he clearly knew what he was doing since he did guess at that was what Gaz was upset about (he just couldn’t remember the food right)

Dib: Gaz! Help me! I'm sorry about your tacos or whatever, just help me...

It just feels like Dib thinks that being a ‘hero saving the world from the alien menace’ entitles him to his sister’s pizza, and Gaz - who refuses to see Zim as a legitimate threat to Earth’s existence and/or humanity's freedom - would obviously be enraged by this mindset.

And like, if you frame it as “Dib stole Gaz’s pizza, so she ruined his chances to get a permission slip from their dad”, it wouldn’t actually be all that bad. Again, Gaz doesn’t see Zim as a meaningful threat, and thus she sees Dib’s battles against him not as a heroic duty but a self-indulgent hobby. So she’s just screwing with the stupid thing he does for fun (and his own ego), not anything actually important.

But… the problem is that ‘ruining Dib’s permission slip’ wasn’t a one-and-done thing. In the process of ruining Dib’s attempt to get his permission slip signed, Gaz also got him tasered

And beat up in a variety of interesting ways

And dragged off forcibly by security.

So, like, even from Gaz’s perspective where Dib’s conflicts with Zim just Do Not Matter, this is way past the point that Pizza Vengeance can justify any of this. This is the first time we’ve got not just angry and snarky Gaz who makes a lot of threats but generally acts mean but proportionally so - but legit a ‘will destroy you over the slightest provocation’ Gaz.

Since this is still pretty early in the show's run, I wonder if this shift is just, like, what was always intended for Gaz’s characterization. Like, that from the get-go they wanted her to be this disproportionally vengeful and they just couldn't incorporate her actually fulfilling any of her threats into an episode's plot until then. OR if was an attempt to just make her more involved in episode plots and ‘wackier’ and more flawed (especially since this is a very rare occasion where Gaz doesn’t just deliver a Karmic Punishment, but also suffers one).

Especially, since this ‘change’ doesn’t necessarily stick to all, or even most, or her subsequent appearances.

"Planet Jackers"

Dib: Gaz, there's an alien in the house! Gaz: You mean besides you?

Really just a tiny and pretty standard interaction, between these two. A snarky and mean-spirited comment against Dib when he bothers her about something she doesn’t see as important and doesn’t want to get involved in. Pretty much the baseline for these two.

"Rise of the Zitboy"

With this one it’s really clear that we’re back to the ‘classic’ Dib-Gaz dynamic despite the 'shift' in 'Battle-Dib'. Like, Gaz is trying to do her own thing, Dib is trying to initiate a conversation about the Thing She Doesn’t Care About (Zim) and she’s just trying her best to Not Engage. Only now, instead of her usual Game Slave, it’s a book!

If anything this is toned-down from her baseline, since she doesn’t even say anything mean or threatening, she just tries as hard as possible to ignore him and hopes he gets the hint (he does not).

"Bad, Bad Rubber Piggy"

Gaz is shown exacerbated by her brother’s actions during the first flashback, but outside of a light snarky comment to herself she doesn’t really do anything.

Gaz: Not again.

Now back in the present, we see a sort of inversion of the Dib-Gaz conflicts of “the Nightmare Begins” and “Battle-Dib” by having Dib complain to Gaz about her eating something he wanted to eat!

Dib: Hey Gaz, did you eat all the cereal? I was gonna have this for breakfast tomorrow, you know! Gaz: You think you own all the cereal. Well, you know what Dib? You don't. You just don't. Dib: Look, all I'm saying is if you're going to--

If the implication in these two previous episodes is that Dib eating Gaz’s food is a regular occurrence - then she is pretty justified by acting so appalled by his comment. It’s just plain selfish hypocrisy! Or… maybe this scene implies that the Membrane Siblings ‘stealing’ food from each other and getting angry at the other for doing this is something that they both do regularly. Which, like…okay, finishing a shared box of cereal before the second person could is still not anywhere near snatching a pizza a person was planning to eat right out of their fucking hand. But at the very least it makes both her reaction to Dib finishing the soda and her defensiveness here feel a lot less justified.

And then when the time-shift happened…Well, I’ve seen some people suggest that Gaz’s non-hostile and even, like, kinda-audibly-concerned reaction to Dib’s questions about his past accidents suggest that in this timeline Gaz is a lot kinder to her poor injured brother.

Gaz: Tricycle accident when you were 3, don't you remember?

And while this is a plausible explanation. (It’s especially consistent with her ‘Enter the Florpus’ characterization. She says she’s Mean to her brother because she knows he’s strong enough to take it, but obviously Piggy Timeline Dib is not strong enough to take it).

But I don’t actually think it’s a needed explanation. Like, even at her most extreme and petty - Gaz has always been mean in reaction to Dib. Whatever it’s just being Annoying at her or stealing her food right off her hands, and whatever this reaction is proportional to the slight or totally vengeful and unreasonable - Gaz’s meanness is almost always directed at Dib as a reaction to something. So I don’t think it’s that unthinkable for Prime Timeline Gaz to also react so amiably to Dib asking her a question that she doesn’t find horribly obnoxious.

Especially since even in the Piggy timeline, Gaz is still not beyond wanting to ignore Dib

Gaz: Dib, shhh. They're gonna show the bats eating a cow!

Or go for a snarky comment when he offers her an obvious opening.

Dib: And have my plans always been this lame? Gaz: Ooooh yeah.

Although it is maybe notable that the second Past Sequence where she is present

Is actually the closest we see of Gaz express, like, genuine concern when her brother is bodily harmed. Which is notable compared to other episodes, including…

"Bloaty's Pizza Hog"

Now, here’s a Real Proper Gaz Focus Episode, and as such, it’s naturally very important to her characterization.

First things first, it’s the one to explicitly establish the fact that Gaz does not see Zim as a threat and therefore she sees Dib’s obsession with defeating him not as a serious world-saving undertaking, but as a frivolous hobby on kinda the same level as Dib sees her video-game obsession.

Dib: Don't you care that Zim's trying to destroy all mankind? Huh? Gaz: But he's so bad at it.

And that perspective, of course, informs a lot of my analysis of Gaz’s behavior through the post even before we got to this episode. I think it’s actually pretty interesting because you can totally see the internal logic that justifies that perspective - Zim is often the main person throwing a wrench into his own plans, and Dib’s motivations for positioning himself as a hero standing against his evil are partially self-serving (something that’s very easy for Gaz to see since she’s lived with him trying to play out self-aggrandizing fantasies all of her life).

But from our wider perspective as the audience, we know that sometimes Zim can be a genuine threat to the people of Earth (if not legitimately dangerously close to destroying/conquering it, at least causing a lot of localized havoc and mayhem with his schemes) and that Dib’s efforts of stopping him are not entirely in-vain, and that his reasons are… not entirely just fueled by his own ego. And from Dib’s own biased perspective Zim is always a threat just one step from destroying all mankind if not for Dib's intervention which is obviously Altruistic and Heroic. So it’s very much a matter of their different perspectives and views of the Zim-Dib rivalry causing further conflicts between the two siblings.

I mean, on a smaller scale that is why Gaz is so upset whenever Dib is bothering her when she’s trying to do something for fun. You know, kinda like here-

Both of these activities, fighting aliens and drawing little piggies, are equally frivolous in her eyes. But by constantly distracting her with talks about the Stupid Shit He Does for Fun Dib is kinda putting his silly hobbies as more important than her silly hobbies and thus his own needs above her own - which is what always gets her so upset. (But again, upset, but not doing anything but be a Bit Creepy About It).

But of course, the interesting thing about this episode is that this time, Dib’s Frivolous Hobby isn’t just interrupting Gaz’s Frivolous Hobby - it’s actually interrupting something a lot more important and with much more urgent stakes. Family Dinner Night.

Gaz: You know Dad's taking us out tonight. I picked Bloaty's. Dib: This is bigger than pizza, Gaz! This is the fate of all mankind! Gaz: You and your mankind... Dib: Uh-huh. Whatever. Look, if I'm not home in time, call this number and tell them the Mothman is caught in the spider's web. Dib: They'll know what you mean. But, like I said, I'll probably be back before the Mysteries theme song starts.

Even after being told that dad is taking them to dinner… I think Gaz is very much trying to imply “this is important to me, don’t mess it up” without being directly, emotionally honest about it. And Dib’s just totally not even considering it. Like yeah, from his perspective he is going on an Important Heroic Mission that must be worth anything else he could be doing with his time, but... he is also primarily worried about not missing his favorite TV Show and reduces the idea of Family Dinner Night to just 'pizza'.

And like, this is a very complicated family situation, isn’t it? It is understandable if Dib isn’t gang-ho about having dinner with his dad, considering what their relationship is like. And maybe the fact that he couldn’t take Gaz’s hint about this being Very Important to Her isn’t, like, entirely up to his sense of self-absorption but also to his general social inaptitude (and his Autistic Swag). But I can also understand why this is so important to Gaz and why she would still read Dib’s behavior as just pure selfishness and part of a pattern of disregarding her feelings.

(There's certainly some sort of Funky Neverending Loop of, like, Dib disregards Gaz's feelings, Gaz expresses her feelings about it in the most repressed, abrasive and/or mean way possible, Dib continues to Not Get It and disregard Gaz's feelings. Like, how much is Dib Not Getting It the fault of Gaz always letting out her feelings in exclusively in the form of snarky comments and edgy threats and how much has Gaz learned to express herself in this way as a coping mechanism due to Dib always walking over her wants and needs? It's hard to say)

So when Dib ignores (from her POV of the situation. Again, maybe Dib just legit missed the subtext) her honest desire to spend time with their dad for a change, she first reacts by… trying to abandon Dib. Instead of calling the Swollen Eyeballs as backup for him, she just destroys the number and tries to go to dinner without him.

Which… okay, this can be a dick move which is kinda way out of proportions of what Dib actually did. But remember that Gaz’s perspective refuses to see Zim as a threat. So she doesn’t see it necessarily as abandoning Dib to death, but just as an inconvenience. He’ll get out eventually on his own, he’s ‘strong enough to take it’, and that means she doesn’t need to bother with lending him a hand. “Well, if he doesn’t care about Family Night Out then he doesn’t get to go. And also he doesn’t get to watch his stupid ass show!”. Like she was thinking about it as wasting his time and not necessarily leaving him to die.

But also, like, this episode goes to great lengths to establish that Gaz is only saving Dib for the sake of her getting to eat dinner with her dad for once, and not out of concern for him. And while she might not believe Zim is actually capable of killing him, she is also pretty blasé about the idea that he’ll be harmed or tortured… unless it interferes with Bloaty’s with dad, of course.

Look at her big ol’ eyes, it’s not just an ‘eh, he can get himself out on his own’ mindset - she was looking forward to seeing him suffer horribly!

Dib himself is still being kind of a Jerk throughout the episode, even in an emergency he’s still thinking about how his little sneak-in plan will affect him in the most superficial ways.

Dib: There you are, Gaz! Looks like you'll have to tape the show for me, I made it in!

Dib: Gaz, make sure you don't record over any old episodes.

Like, this isn't even a 'Dib thinks saving the world is more important than Family Dinner Night. But Gaz doesn't think the world is actually in danger so think this is just frivolous ego stroking even though we know Zim can be a genuine danger and Dib's goals are at least kinda genuinely heroic' thing when you consider these lines. Even in a dangerous situation where the world is at stake, Dib can still find the brainspace to worry about his silly TV show but not about the possibility he'd deny his sister the precious little time they have to spend with their dad.

You can argue that trying to stop Zim is actually more important than Family Dinner Night and Dib is in the right. But Dib's dialogue also puts Mysterious Mysteries as being more important than Family Dinner Night. Because that at least gets some sort of acknowledgement from him. Gaz's only chance to go to her favorite restaurant with her favorite person in the world doesn't even get a "sorry, Gaz, but I have an Important Duty to do!", he just totally ignores it.

And generally through the episode he's ignoring and understating Gaz’s desires - even after she did actually told him right to his face what she wants.

Gaz: Come home now, Dib! Your weird obsessions are not gonna mess today up for me. I just want to go out and eat with Dad, that's all! Stop playing with Zim and get back here.

Gaz: All I want is to have some pizza...hang out with Dad, and not have your weirdness mess up my day.

So at this point this stops being some sort of misunderstanding and really starts seeming more like Dib not even trying to understand his sister’s motivations.

Dib: Come on, Gaz! You'd sacrifice the entire planet just for some pizza!?!

Which… makes sense as something that will aggravate her, especially in regards to something as emotionally important as getting to hang out with her father for once. But still, letting him get tortured is, like, maybe a tad disproportionate as an outlet for these frustrations?

But I think it's still notable that while the angle of disproportionate response to technically-legitimate-grievances is similar, in contrast to her very active acts of sabotage back in “Battle-Dib”, she only really ‘gets back’ at Dib here through inaction when Zim is hurting him (and maybe being a bit abrasive to Dib during her rescue, but Dib was also a very annoying rescuee so that one I think does kinda balances out.)

"Bolognius Maximus"

Okay, back to the simpler and shorter interactions now. We once again see Dib initiate ‘conversations’ with Gaz about subjects she finds annoying and uninteresting.

Dib: They try and say it's just a regular mountain range on the Martian surface, and it's just a trick of the light, but come on! It is so a monkey face.

And this time all Gaz does is casually ignore him.

When things start getting odd with the dogs and all, she only reacts with a snarky comment. But at this point it’s not even entirely clear to Dib that something very very wrong is happening. So I dunno who would expect Gaz to be worried about this?

Now, later in the episode, when Dib is very obviously turning into a bologna, Gaz still doesn’t give a shit.

Which I think actually matches up very well with her ‘Zim is not a threat, none of the things he’s doing/planning to do will actually pan out’ outlook. Like, lowkey she is pretty sure that this new Wacky Zim Scheme is gonna go up in flames and return everything to normal so there’s no need for her concern or interest and she can just casually enjoy the free bologna. Which is actually a fun character beat because usually the show leans toward Gaz’s attitude being kinda right - but this time she was very much in the wrong.

And like, if 'Bloaty's Pizza Hog' gave me a chance to talk about how Dib's tendency to see the Inherent Importance of everything he is interested in over any of Gaz's needs and desires might not just be a difference in perspective or miscommunication but also has an element of trying to rationalize his own selfishness - I think it's only fair for me to note this can also go the other way around.

It's easy to see Gaz's total dismissal of Zim's threat potential as just her being... you know, grounded and rational enough to see things as they are. But there might be her own emotional bias in play in here motivated by her own resentment with her brother and her own selfish desire to totally ignore and disregard him. Maybe on some level, she just can't allow anything that Dib cares about to be actually worth paying attention to, even when it seems to be literally life-threatening?

"Game Slave 2"

Obviously this episode has a lot of Gaz content, some that can invite a lot of discussion about how proportionate or disproportionate her reactions are - but we are going to focus specifically on her interactions with Dib, of course. Starting with…

Dib: Come on! Bigfoot would never say that! Gaz: Why do you have to read that in here? I'm trying to play a game! Dib: Mysterious Mysteries is on in five minutes!

This is actually really the first time where Gaz is directly, explicitly annoyed by Dib just sort of being around here. Usually her exasperation is fueled by him trying to talk to her about all kinds of Alien Stuff she just doesn’t care about, or trying to drag her into his world-saving adventures against her will, or stealing her food - but here is just doing His Own Thing in her vicinity. Like, the living room is a Shared Space, he has just as much of a right to hang out there as Gaz does.

If anything, he has more of a right to be there since he’s waiting for his show to come on while Gaz is playing her handheld video game. So if Dib reading his magazine and complaining that Bigfoot Would Not Fucking Say That is bothering her so much - then she should probably just go to her room. Then again, she doesn’t do much other than verbally complain once and it was probably more about venting out her frustrations about the game than Dib himself.

But then…

Dib: I've been waiting all night to see this! She can wait to get her stupid game! Prof. Membrane: Son, video games develop hand eye coordination, and make kids into better human beings! Dib: Okay... But only after the show is over. Gaz: You stink!

So on some level this is just the same sort cycle of conflict that is always going around these two. Both of them prioritize their own hobbies (and this time it IS Dib’s hobby, there’s not much subjectivity around this. This isn’t about saving the human race from anyone’s point of view, just about a show he wants to watch) and thinks the other one is frivolous and selfish for caring about their hobbies more. But also… in this specific context Dib is the One Being a Dick.

Just like before I sided with Dib because Gaz can play the game in her room…. We know the Membranes have a way to record shows on their TV. That came up in literally the previous episode! Dib could’ve just set his VCR to record and ‘Mysterious Mysteries’ will be waiting for him when he gets back from the mall - but Gaz’s console launch is an actual time sensitive matter. (Plus ‘Mysterious Mysteries’ is aired on, like, a weekly basis. Consoles do not release in this frequency).

So Gaz had every reason to be upset with Dib when they did get to the mall and see, like Gaz and any Gamer watching could’ve predicted, that a-half-an-hour delay in getting to the big launch event can screw up a lot.

Dib: It was a… really good episode…

And maybe I’m reading too much into it, but Dib’s reaction also feels pretty telling. You know, instead of giving Gaz any sort of apology, he’s being defensive by saying that hey, at least the MM episode was worth it? Like it is still kinda centering his interests and desires over Gaz’s.

And Gaz’s retaliation for it is…honestly relatively mild?

Gaz: Hey, Dib. I think I saw a Chupacabra or something going into that parking garage. Dib: A Chupacabra? But there isn't a goat to feed on for miles!

She just gets him out of her way so she can be left alone in line in peace, and probably hoping to waste his time on the fake Chupacabra - a tit-for-tat revenge for getting her time wasted. Which… okay, it’s unclear if she knew about how large and labyrinthine the mall’s parking lot actually was and about, you know, the colony of horrible rat people. But still, Dib was already out of the building by the time Gaz finished Murdering a Fellow Child.

At worst, he wasted like a couple of hours that he didn’t have any specific plans for anyways.

Really, since this episode gives us a glimpse into how Gaz deals with People She Finds Annoying Who Are Not Dib... it actually kinda gives the impression that Gaz... like, not just that she doesn't hate Dib specifically and will aim a similar amount of ire at any random person who annoys her in a similar way. But also maybe that she goes easy on Dib, compared to how she delt with Iggins. Which is... probably the closest we'll get in this entire journey to an indication that Gaz has any level of care towards Dib.

"Battle of the Planets"

Dib: DAD! Gaz! Come see this! Professor Membrane: Please! No more foolishness, son! Gaz: Your voice is stupid!

Dib tries to get Gaz involved in something she doesn’t care about, she insults him. Pretty standard.

"Mysterious Mysteries"

Okay, so, the first thing I want to note is the lil’ babies scene.

It seems like a really inconsequential gag but this is actually, like, an extremely rare occurrence of Gaz being mean to Dib without anything even resembling a provocation. Like, at least in that little scene at the start of ‘Game Slave 2’ she was venting because of her frustrations with the game and it was just a light grumble. This is really like the most classic inarguable example of Gaz bullying Dib.

Especially when compared to both her version of the Story and her general behavior in the ‘present day’ of the episode. Like, is portraying Dib in her version of the story as a barely coherent moron kind of Mean? Yeah, sure it was. But is it any more insulting to the actual person that it’s depicting than Dib depicting Gaz as his helpless adoring sidekick? Especially as her interview implies that she did find Dib’s version of events legitimately insulting in it's inaccuracy?

Gaz: My stupid brother did drag me out to look for stupid Zim. He didn't make that part up.

Maybe Gaz deliberately exaggerated Dib’s (and Zim’s) stupidity in her version of the story out of spite of how Dib framed her on national TV. Maybe just like Dib seemed to be genuinely under the belief that his version of Gaz is a decent reflection of reality, Gaz literally just thinks of Dib as this stupid and annoying. Either way, it’s a really an equally-matched kind of sibling assholery.

Also, speaking of Gaz’s version of events... obviously it’s not entirely clear what really happened - but I do think, when it comes to like characterization and the general tone of Invader Zim, Gaz's retelling is at least pretty reliable on two fronts; why she was there-

And why did the video cut out when it did.

So while Dib’s interactions with Gaz had that undercurrent of, like, him always putting his own interests above her own for a long time - this really is the most obvious example. Literally forcibly dragging her out of whatever she was doing for the sake of getting an extra ‘eyewitness’ to his video. And so she responded with a little force of her own.

Again, this is all from Gaz’s story, and she does tend to give out exaggerated threats of violence that she doesn’t always carry out - so I don’t think it’s out of the question for her to also retroactively make up/exaggerate the acts of violence she commits. But since this kick in the shins is by far the most probable cause for the video cutting out that we have, I am going to assume that it did happen in reality on some level. And it is a very notable example of Gaz actually inflicting direct physical violence on Dib - until now, her preferred methods of inflicting pain on him were a lot less direct.

And while kicking people in the shins is wrong, it was still in reaction to Dib forcibly dragging her along - which was probably a lot less painful, but also took a lot more time. You can argue this still follows a sort of tit-for-tat logic that a lot of Gaz's retaliations do... but also, with Gaz's second scene in this episode literally being the most Unambiguous Case of her being Mean to Dib for Now Reason

In this episode more than anything, it might be fair to assume Gaz just wanted to hurt Dib and humiliate him on National TV and there's nothing more to it.

(Also, of course, Gaz refusing to corroborate Dib’s story is one of the main reasons why he failed in that episode. But as I mentioned many times before, Gaz refuses to see that rivalry as anything serious or with more stakes than her video games. In her mind, this is about as bad, or maybe even less bad, then dragging her out to waste time by participating in this stupid show in the first place.)

"Future Dib"

Okay, so most of the other Gaz and “Dib” interactions in this episode kinda follow a unified-if-winding thread of thought so I want to start with the one that I have kind of a separate Point about:

While Gaz’s reaction was very disproportionate and unnecessarily violent, I think it’s also interesting to note that the thing that set her off was “Dib” putting his hand around her. It’s actually part of a recurring implied piece of characterization that Gaz hates being touched.

Dib: Everyone, hold hands again. Gaz: Yeah! Your lives depend on it! Poonchy: Okay! Hold my hand. Gaz: No way! Be serious!

Since Dib very very rarely ever touches Gaz, and, y’know, has known her all of her life - avoiding physical touch is probably an established boundary between them. So while that doesn’t fully justify the intensity of Gaz’s reaction, that does explain both why that set her off so much and why that’s really the moment where she starts to notice “Dib” is really acting strangely. He was really violating a boundary that he should’ve known by now.

(Going back for a sec, actually, her ‘dramatic re-enactment’ in Mysterious Mysteries also has the Dib Actor dragging the Gaz Actor by the arm. So that’s probably another reason why Gaz reacted kinda violently then as well)

So Gaz giving out more edgelordy threats to (who she thinks is) Dib is pretty standard at this point, but there is something very unique about it in this episode. This is the first time since ‘Battle-Dib’ where she actively acts on these threats to such a literal degree. And this is also combined with the ‘Mysterious Mysteries’ trend of being much more directly violent.

Like, Gaz explicitly only realized she was dealing with a Dib Robot Replica after choking it out so hard it’s eye popped out. All of this violence and pain, she was intending to inflict it on the real Dib. This is about as bad or maybe worse than everything she put Dib through back in ‘Battle-Dib’. And she's doing it with her own two hands this time.

Plus, the reason that she’s reacting like this isn’t because Dib was stealing her Pizza or being generally inconsiderate to her - it’s really just for being weird and annoying (which, in this context, means ‘start to scream randomly and freak out’). So that feels a lot less justified.

Then, of course, her reaction to finding out that she has been beating up a robot half-to-death is to use it as a replacement for her brother. Which has several different implications going on here about Gaz’s relationship to Dib:

First things first, I want to note that this episode ends with the implication that Gaz left Dib to be stuck in that cell for, like, the rest of his life until he died of old age or something?

I mean, yeah, obviously it is a ‘non canon’ jokey ending that gets totally ignored by the next episode. But the way I always took these snapback ending is as, like, obviously they probably didn’t actually happen in whatever passes for ‘canon’ in Invader Zim - but the events are still indicative of what would’ve happened in terms of worldbuilding and character actions. So while this episode isn’t telling us that Dib has literally died of old age after spending his entire life being beat up by a monkey for Zim’s amusement. This episode is telling us that if that did happen, Gaz would make no effort to save him, ever.

This is notable because of how it contrasts with the previous episodes, or at least my interpretation of them. Like I said, my assumption has always been that Gaz doesn’t care about the Zim-Dib rivalry and sees it as frivolous nonsense because she doesn’t see Zim as a threat. And thus, her general refusal to help her brother was less about outright hatred of him and waiting to see him gone/hurt, and more about just thinking he can handle that walking joke on his own and there’s no need for her to waste her Precious Gaming Time on this.

This is very much supported by ‘Enter the Florpus’, both in what Gaz literally tells Dib right to his face and in the sense that when Zim does prove to be a credible threat to her world and to her family - she joins forces with her brother with minimal complaints. But of course, ETF Characterization don’t always apply to 2001 Series Characterization so while I prefer this reading partially because it allows ETF Gaz to feel more consistent with Main Show Gaz - I also I feel that Main Show has enough implications to point to this characterization and motivations on it’s own and I want to draw attention to it.

But here… this is Gaz theoretically ignoring Dib’s plight for literal decades. At this point this isn’t something that can be explained as ‘she doesn’t think she needs to bother with it’. Like, at some point it should’ve been clear to her that even if Zim isn’t a threat to Earth, he is certainly torturing Dib somewhere. This really seems to be direct evidence toward the idea that Gaz just doesn’t not like her brother at all and wishes that he was gone.

And also I want to discuss what exactly Gaz turned the Robot Dib into - an abusable servant. Something that fulfills her needs while passively enduring her random acts of cruelty.

So… is this what she would like Dib to be? Like, maybe I’m just looking at it from the totally wrong angle. Maybe it’s just a matter of ‘well, if you have a Robot Servant, you’d obviously want it to serve you. And if you’re an angsty preteen with anger issues, you’d like to have something vaguely human-shaped but non-sapient to take your frustrations on’. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Dib. But… like, this Robot is still Dib-Shaped. So I feel like the implication is that she’s using Robot Dib as a proxy of what she would also do with Dib if he was, like, mind-controlled or something?

And that’s… not really the vibe I’ve gotten from Gaz’s interactions with Dib so far? I mean, maybe I won’t go as far as to say that she actually likes him - but I thought about it more in the sense that she just wanted Dib to leave her alone most of the time. That for her an ideal situation would be more if he did his own thing and she did her own thing without his ‘weirdness’ barging in and bothering her all the time.

This is just really… I think that might be the ‘Meanest’ Gaz has ever been in my book. Like I know that there’s Another Certain Episode that people often put up as “The One Where Gaz is Really Mean to Dib” but I think that it's more Complicated than some people give it credit for. So, like, I’ll get there when I get there. But here we actually have the Gaz who physically attacks Dib over the slightest provocation and, like, actively hates him.

It’s really one of those things that make me, like, kinda question my analysis so far. I mean, is this meant to be another attempt to shift Gaz’s character because meaner and more violent characters are more fun and wacky to write? Is it just a matter of the IZ writers prioritizing wacky escalation and cartoon violence and Dib suffering over giving Gaz consistent motivations? Or have I been just totally overly generous in my analysis so far? Like, maybe I was totally off the mark trying to look at which of Dib's actions seem to set Gaz off?Maybe we were supposed to understand that Gaz was always beating Dib to a pulp off-screen since the start?

But... I dwelled on these thoughts for a while and I think that my usual read of Gaz’s character is maybe not consistent with this episode, but it is consistent with a majority of the episodes she was featured in. Which is not something I can necessarily say for a reading that just centers ‘Future-Dib’ above all else. This level of physical violence here is still very unusual for her, even in episodes where she is more cruel to Dib.

(And the idea that she just legit hates her brother and wishes he was gone… honestly, yeah, that can go either way...)

"Abducted"

Especially considering this is the very next episode with any sort of Dib-Gaz interaction!

Gaz just walking off while Dib is being, well, abducted can work pretty well if you assume that Gazthinks that obviously whatever is flying this thing

Is some sort of incompetent idiot and she doesn’t need to bother with the annoyance of saving Dib because he can handle it on his own (and she would probably be right).

But… it can also work just as well if you assume she doesn’t give a shit about Dib and would be happy if he’s gone forever.

"Dib's Wonderful Life of Doom"

Dib: How I am I still the only one who sees Zim's an alien? I mean, come on! Come on! COME ON! Gaz: Why do you have to have a head? Dib: Gaz! I want you to see this. Today, things are gonna change. I'm gonna do… something! I'm not just gonna sit back and watch Zim get away with his… his… things he do! Dib: I mean— Gaz: "Things he "DO"? What's your problem?

And we’re back to Gaz not being directly violent or even threatening violence, but just being snarky in a kinda mean way. Still, there’s maybe less of the justification for her exacerbation with Dib this time. Because this time he wasn't technically bothering her at all! Dib was lecturing another kid before she started insulting him. I think the implication was that she felt he was embarrassing her, but I still feel like that's a lot less justified.

Still, it’s not like her words seem to significantly hurt Dib, and she is at least able to share a laugh about Zim’s ridiculous behavior with him. (although with ‘Parent-Teacher Night’, there is also the implication that she would’ve also laughed at Dib in any sort of inverted scenario).

"Tak: The Hideous New Girl"

So for Dib and Gaz’s first interaction in this episode, we have this:

And well, kinda like the ‘Wonderful Life of Doom’ interaction, what Gaz does here is pretty mild in the grand scheme of things- but her reasoning also feels not very justified.

I mean, yeah, she was annoyed by the sound of them yelling, that sucks. But Dib has a right to yell in the shared living space of his own house. But… also, I suspect that she sprayed him with the soda less as a punishment for being annoying and more as a direct result of what he said just before.

Dib: Thanks, Gaz. He was really…

She wanted to make it clear that she was not shooing Zim out to help him. She did it for her own sake. Because Dib keeps making this mistake of thinking of Gaz as his sidekick and that her goals and wants align with his and obviously that causes her a lot of exasperation and wasted time. So I think she was more lashing out at this hypothetical future scenario than just Dib annoying her in the present.

Next up, we have the scene by the Evil Weenie Stand.

Gaz: Be quiet. I wanted to let you know that my brother is trying to break into this building through some secret entrance. Weenie Clerk: We... we have chili beans. Gaz: I just though it'd be funny to see him get beaten up by security.

So, Gaz actively trying to get Dib grievously injured just because it’s funny is actually... kind of an unusual thing for her. Like, as I’ve said previously, she’s usually a very reactive character. Even when her actions are at their most disproportionate and least justifiable, they are usually at least somewhat motivated by Dib’s actions… unless the implication is that the reason why she’s here in the first place is because Dib dragged her out here to be his lookout and she's looking at a way to get back at him for that.

That scenario feels most likely to me, and obviously that wouldn't justify ratting out Dib and enjoying his pain - to me it's kinda on the same level as getting Dib tasered and dragged off by security for stealing her Pizza... But also it's notable that this time, she actually gives up on the idea pretty quickly. If you wanna be charitable to Gaz, you can say she wasn't really serious about the security thing and was just making an edgelordy joke and honestly... with her characterization, I think it could go either way...

Interestingly, once she gets a decent look at Tak and her plans, Gaz becomes a lot more cooperative. I mean, she still grumbles about the idea of saving the Earth. But, like, she doesn’t argue when Dib says the disk is ‘theirs’ when she was the one who found it and she doesn't put up any resistance about joining Dib in seeing Zim’s base. Compared to how previously she’d at best be really abrasive about it and at worst would have tried to actively sabotage Dib and/or cause him physical pain as revenge for prioritizing himself and wasting her time.

That works very well with the idea that Gaz’s whole problem with Dib’s obsession is that she just doesn’t see Zim as a threat. Obviously after coming face-to-face with Tak, she can see she is much more of a Legitimate Threat to Earth than Zim is. So even if she’s not necessarily emotionally invested in saving the world, she can tolerate it a lot better if she can see that it is indeed something more than Dib’s extremely self-indulgent ego-stroking hobby.

"Backseat Drivers From Beyond the Stars"

Gaz finds Dib annoying, Gaz goes to vent to her dad about it, Gaz is told to give her brother another chance, Gaz finds Dib annoying again and just leaves. This is a very Mild Gaz compared to what we had in the previous few episodes, closer to my initial read of her. Like, she doesn’t even insult Dib to his face this time. She finds him annoying, so she leaves!

"Dibship Rising"

Well, I… have made the decision to not discuss Gaz’s attempt to destroy all mankind in length, even though Dib is, in fact, technically part of ‘all mankind’. I just think this scene is more about her relationship with her dad then it is about Dib.

Gaz: That didn't wipe out all life as we know it! YOU LIED TO ME, DAD!!

The actual crux of Dib and Gaz’s interactions in this episode are once again - Dib’s obsession with halting the Irken Invasion of Earth has led him to also inconvenience Gaz (this time, by causing a lot of noise and being late to dinner), and Gaz is, like, mildly abrasive as a result and ignores him a lot.

"The Voting of the Doomed"

Dib: Willy's a drooling moron! As sole defender of Earth, I've got to do something! Gaz: I wish Willy was my brother.

Yet another case of Gaz insulting Dib unprompted (since he was talking to himself rather than to her. She just happened to be within listening range.) And also another implication that her problem with her brother is that he’s embarrassing? I think that’s how we’re supposed to read that line? "Willy would be a better brother than you cause he's less embarrassing!"

"Gaz, Taster of Pork"

Okay, now this is the big one. This is the episode that I’ve seen a lot of people in the fandom cite as being, like, the One Where Gaz is Really Cruel to Dib. And, like, I’m not gonna pretend like Dib doesn’t suffer a Lot in this episode (maybe even past the point that I find it particularly funny to rewatch) - but also the dynamic going on is a bit more complicated than just ‘cruelty’?

Because this is also probably also the episode where Dib is at his most asshole to Gaz as well. I mean, he literally used her as a guinea pig (... pun not intended) to experiment with a spell he thought might be beneficial but was worried about the consequences for himself if it wasn’t… but apparently did not extend that worry to his sister - and thus, the entire conflict of this episode. Like Gaz is entirely in the right to be mad about being ‘blessed’ with Pig-Sense without her consent. Both with Dib’s false narrative about wanting to give her superpowers for her own sake

Dib: No! I only did it to give you super powers because you're the greatest sister ever!

And when she does actually learn the truth.

Dib: cast the spell on her because I wanted to see what it would do before trying it on myself!

Like, maybe that doesn’t perfectly justify taking and destroying Dib’s personal property, or potentially shoving mashed potatoes into his eyes, or repeatedly threatening him with her man-eating plushies, or encouraging a Pig Demon to punish him in some terrible supernatural Pig Demon way...

(While it would certainly be too much to ask Gaz to forgive Dib on the spot and advocate for him when she just found out he’s been lying about his motivations all along and used her as a guinea pig. The dialogue implications of this scene is that the Shadow Hog wouldn’t have done anything to Dib without Gaz’s encouragement.)

It's still important to remember that what Dib did to her was pretty terrible on it's own and was entirely unprovoked!

Then there are a few other factors to consider here, like Gaz’s constant violent threats towards Dib. Which I usually just chalk up to being edgelordy venting unless there is a clear indication of Gaz acting or considering acting on them (like with the mashed potatoes example above) because in most episodes Gaz is mostly all-talk and Dib usually does not take them seriously. But here… although we don’t see Gaz do even like a quarter of what she threatened to do to Dib - we do see Dib acting as if the threats are 100% real and serious.

Zim: I'm going to destroy you all, Dib! Today! I've got it all set up. Dib: Uh huh, that's nice, Zim. It can't be worse than what my sister's gonna do.

Which does make them feel a lot more 'concrete’ than in most episodes. Like maybe she would’ve beaten him up if they did fail to cure her or if the Shadow Hog wasn’t there to offer an Alternative Punishment Method for him?

But like… I think it’s closer to a proportional response than getting him tasered for stealing pizza or literally beating (a robot she thought was) him with her own two hands because he yelled in an annoying way? Like, what Dib did was really shitty and Gaz has a right to be upset about that on some level!

Then there is the other complicating factor - Membrane. Like, while Dib was Not Having a Good Time in that episode - up until that last sequence with the Shadow Hog, Gaz was suffering a lot more for a much longer period of time. The ‘Pig Mouth’ curse has cost her not just her ability to eat most foods but also most of her hobbies, her freedom, her privacy, her dignity. And it’s clear that she blames Dib - the catalyst of this whole event - for everything that has stemmed from it.

Gaz: You will pay, Dib! You will pay!

But even though what Dib did was certainly a Dick Move… like, it is Membrane and his scientist team that really did the worst by Gaz. Dib only turned to his dad out of a sincere belief he could help, Membrane was the one who decided to announce Gaz’s condition to the world and quarantined her for life and sold the rights to make a goddam movie out of her.

So if Gaz is lashing out at the mistreatment she suffered throughout this episode, she should be at least just as mad at her father as she is with her brother, right? But instead she seems to be totally chill with him, just eating pizza together. Even though his apology for her is honestly as shitty and self-justifying as anything Dib would’ve come up with.

Professor Membrane: Sorry about imprisoning you and turning you into a media freak, honey! It was in the name of science and... hey, where's your brother?

So I think that might imply that Gaz has a massive bias against her brother, causing her to channel a lot of unrelated frustrations just at him.

…Or maybe more likely a massive bias in favor of her dad. You know, she does love him a lot - to the point that ‘getting to actually spend time with him’ is like one of the few things that can get her motivated to get Involved in an episode’s plot. And she also has some serious reasons to be frustrated with him (in this episode especially, but also outside of it). And instead of trying to, like, untangle the complicated contrasting emotions she feels about her dad (a process which would be complicated and hard for anyone, but especially for an extremely emotionally repressed 11 years old), she just channels all of the negative ones unto Dib whenever possible.

Which, like, doesn’t make blaming Dib for things he didn’t actually do more justifiable, but it does make her motivations for doing so more complex than just “idk she hates Dib like everyone else does”

"The Most Horrible X-mas Ever"

And our very last Dib-Gaz conflict for the post! (I didn’t expect it to run this long I swear) Starring Bitey the Vampire!

Dib: You stare at that dog every Christmas, Gaz! Come on, already! It's creepy. Gaz: Three Christmases ago, that dog ate the head off Bitey the Vampire! You said so yourself! I haven't forgotten. Dib: Well, fixing an alien spaceship is hard enough without you distracting me.

The interesting thing about this conflict is how similar it is to ‘Gaz, Taster of Pork’. We once again have Dib being an inconsiderate dick to Gaz for the sake of an experiment and then lying about it to try and avoid her ire, knowing that her reaction would be both violent and extreme. Just this time instead of Gaz herself, it’s her treasured sentimental possession.

Dib: Okay, Gaz. I think it's time I told you. The dog's innocent! I used Bitey the Vampire for a teleporter experiment and switched his head onto a fly's body!

Which, you know, at least he isn't overriding Gaz's bodily anatomy this time but... like... Dib must've had so many other options for his 'Teleporter Experiment'! I guess that without specific details we can't know for sure, but I really can't think of any real justification why he would have to use his sister's doll for this experiment and not one of his own toys or even, like, buy something cheapo from the dollar store or something? Maybe you can come up with some explanation of why it had to be Bitey, but it really feels like another demonstration of Dib's thoughtlessness and inconsideration.

I almost wonder, if, y’know, the show wasn’t cut so short - if this was a deliberate attempt to emphasize this aspect of the Dib-Gaz dynamic for the episodes going forwards. You know, give some more justification and context to Gaz’s anger at Dib - even as her responses to it continue to escalate.

Although I guess beating Dib up like that in retaliation to ruining one of her beloved childhood toys and then lying about it for years isn’t like… the most disproportionate thing Gaz has done? I mean it is kinda bad, but also she has certainly done worse during the course of this list!

Also a quick shout-out to Dib complaining about Gaz distracting him by just like… standing in his vicinity quietly - when Gaz’s most common problem with Dib is him distracting her by talking at her constantly and generally being actually disruptive to her concentration.

(Some more general points in this episode are Gaz once again trying to abandon Dib at what he feels is mortal danger. Which, like most of these interactions could be read as her just underestimating Zim and thus not thinking he is in actual danger... or just legitimately not caring if her brother lives or dies. And Dib trying to take credit for Gaz repairing the ship, and threatening him with More Violence over it. First one is a pretty common sight at this point and the letter is a pretty quick interaction when they're both pretty jerky to each other.)

So… what is the main thing that I feel like I’ve learned from making such an extensive analysis? Well, I think in a way, all of those General Fandom Conceptions of Gaz that I talked about at the start… none of them were fully accurate, but also none of them are, like, entirely inaccurate either.

You know, sometimes Gaz’s reactions come off as mostly harmless edgelordisms, and sometimes they’re totally disproportionate and/or violent, sometimes her behavior comes off as reasonable or at least understandable, and sometimes she’s just another person in Dib’s life who wants to punish him for being weird. And there was an escalation in her actions over time, but it wasn’t really just in Season 2 - and it coincides with a whole lot of factors that make it more complicated than just ‘Flanderization’; the increased focus on both Dib’s negative traits and the comedy of his suffering, a general need for escalation with newer plots, and a need for her to be more involved in narratives - especially as her initial role as Someone Dib Can Talk To has become kind redundant as the writers have become more comfortable with the idea that Dib can just talk to himself like a weirdo.

The most… uncharitable reading is that Gaz’s characterization is just plain inconsistent. The writers didn’t have as clear of a vision of who she is compared to Zim or Dib, or maybe they just didn’t care enough to keep her in-line with the vision of what she was supposed to be - so her level of meanness, violence and hatred towards her brother just kinda fluctuate depending on the needs of the narrative or the joke, or what aspect of Dib's character they wanted to highlight.

Y’know, even though this was always meant to be an analysis of both Dib and Gaz’s relationship with each other - it also became a bit of a Gaz Character Analysis along the way. Because Dib’s slights against Gaz can fluctuate on levels of intensity, but they are very consistent in terms of reasoning and motivation. It is pretty much always a result of Dib’s Terminal Case of Main Character Syndrome … but also about his social isolation and general inability to communicate with others and the fact that Gaz, even at her meanest, is still more likely to tolerate him talking about his interests than basically anyone else in the world

You know, I do want to emphasize that Dib’s inconsiderate attitude can also be understandable and relatable in his own way, just like Gaz’s reactions to him. I ended up focusing on Gaz more and more as I was writing this post because I kinda assumed Dib’s motivations were more self-evident in the fandom both because he’s more of a main character and because he’s more open about his emotions compared to Gaz. And also… because it would’ve been too repetitive to go over “Yeah, Dib has a problem remembering other people have needs and interiority but he is also deeply lonely and desperate for positive attention” for basically every episode. Meanwhile, Gaz’s reasonings seem to… fluctuate a lot more.

I think my reading of the situation is a bit more positive than just ‘Gaz was written in a careless and inconsistent way’, because inconsistency… can also be a deliberate character trait. You know, a lot of people are kinda inconsistent in their reactions to things. There’s no reason why Gaz can’t just be characterized by her capriciousness. Especially when you consider the angle that she’s misdirecting some of her anger at her father or the world in general at Dib - so you’ve got maybe like a baseline of mild annoyance which is what she actually feels towards her brother in a vacuum. But every so often she is so much crueler because she is using him as a vector for a bunch of other frustrations and stress, some vaguely related to him, some not at all.

I think even the kinder Gaz we see in ‘Enter the Florpus’ can fit into that, if you take her words here not as just a statement of how she’s been all this time…

Gaz: Oh, uh, normally, you crying on the floor is hilarious, but come on. Dib: It's all my fault, Gaz. Why aren't you saying I told you so? Gaz: 'Cause making fun of you is no fun when you're this sad. You're my brother, man. I only torment you because I know you can handle it. I've done way worse than throwing you in a space prison. This is nothing. Get up!

And more of her, now seeing her obnoxious brother at his lowest point, suddenly coming to a realization that she doesn’t hate him as much as she thought she did.

And… okay, another challenge in analyzing all of these interactions is… I’ve been trying to look at all of the Membrane Sibling’s faults and flaws from as balanced a perspective as I can muster - but it’s also important to remember the context in which they exist. When I call out Dib or Gaz for being assholes, this is not necessarily a condemnation of their character. ‘Invader Zim’ is a show all about Flawed Messed-Up Assholes. And it’s also fundamentally a comedy show about the entertainment value in cruelty. If Dib wasn’t sometimes a selfish little egomaniac and Gaz wasn’t an asshole prone to violent acts of ‘revenge’... they just wouldn’t be good ‘Invader Zim’ characters, you know?

Really, between all the different episodes and all the times Gaz was more or less justified, more or less cruel… I think the overall picture that is painted of two very imperfect kids having understandable-but-also-shitty-reactions to the bad hand they were dealt by the world. Dib’s sometimes selfish disregard for Gaz’s interests and wants is maybe understandable considering how basically no one cares about him so… he might as well care about himself, right? And Gaz’s frustration with this disregard and constant egoism is also understandable… but also at some point it becomes kinda disproportionate. And sometimes it becomes really disproportionate.

And that’s just like… that’s just what the Membrane siblings are.

#invader zim #iz #iz analysis #dib membrane #iz dib #dib iz #dib invader zim #iz dib membrane #invader zim dib #gaz membrane #gaz iz #gaz invader zim #iz gaz #iz gaz membrane #invader zim gaz

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blackleatherjacketz · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 2

Jack Russell x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

This Chapter: Jack makes sure your home is safe, and you help him out of his wet clothes.

Warnings: Jack Sniffing Around, Heavy Eye Contact, You Helping Jack Undress, Protective Jack, Nightmares, Kissing, Biting, Implied Sexual Content

Word Count: 2.3k+

Tags: @skittle479 @acutecupidity @bullet-prooflove

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Rays of light shine through your windows as his presence fills your home with a sort of calm that you hadn’t expected to ever feel again, at least not this soon after last night. That balm he provides barely manages to assuage the fears that keep creeping up on you, though. They build onto each other in the back of your head, piecing themselves together with each recovered memory as you watch him touch your belongings and smell the air.

Like a bloodhound on the hunt, he follows a trail that only he can see, picking up a towel in your kitchen, bending down to smell your couch before moving past your bathroom altogether. He runs his fingers along your walls and around your picture frames, almost as if he could feel the remnants of the sinister presence before stopping in front of your bedroom door. He takes a deep breath, pausing before looking over at you to gain permission to enter the room Alan most likely visited you in. Your memories of him don’t include any part of this room or your home, but you know it wouldn’t hurt for him to check.

“May I?” He raises his eyebrows with the question, his forehead wrinkling as he points toward the open doorway.

“Of course.” You motion in that direction as he enters your private sanctuary, his hands gracing the metal of your bedframe and the fabric of your comforter.

He pulls back each layer of covers, getting onto his knees to properly reach the level of your bed as he looks up at you from across the room. He carefully inhales your scent, those eyes of his growing brighter in the light of day as they send an unexpected spark of heat into your core, exciting you more than you care to admit. You may be traumatized and severely sleep deprived at the moment, but you swear that there is something absolutely feral about the way he’s looking at you.

With nothing more than a blink of an eye he breaks contact, bringing you back from the brink of fantasy as he picks up each individual pillow, closing his eyes as if to envision whatever it is he might be smelling. You hold your breath and hope to God that he isn’t getting any traces of the mysterious vampire you both apparently share some history with. You didn’t know exactly what to expect when he said he would be able to identify Alan’s presence here, but this definitely wasn’t what you originally pictured.

“All I smell is you,” he reports with a sigh of relief as he sets the last of the pillows back down onto the bed. “And your cat.” He pats them awkwardly to keep them in place, looking up at you as they finally settle, running a hand nervously through his hair as he catches your eye.

“So, we’re safe here?” You recall the rest of your vampire knowledge from every horror movie and Halloween special you’ve ever seen, remembering that not all rules apply to every vampire. “Unless I invite him in, right?”

“Right,” he nods, shaking off his awkward stance in order to face you. “He won’t be able to enter here unless you allow it, and I didn’t smell any roommates, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“How does that work, exactly?” You fold your arms across your chest, leaning against the wall for physical support as much as dramatic effect as you stare blankly at his handsome face. “Did you learn that in vampire hunting school, or were you born with a super human sense of smell?”

He pauses, opening his mouth as if to answer you but stops himself once he thinks better of the idea. “We should both get some rest while the sun is still up. I can sleep out in my car if that makes you more comfortable, that way I can see if…”

“You’re not gonna stay here?” You take a step toward him, not caring how transparent your lack of sleep has suddenly made you. All you can think about now is how much safer you’d feel if you harbor him here in your home until all this is over. “After everything that’s happened?”

“I can if you want,” he offers genuinely, palms open toward the sky. “I just didn’t think… I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“No, I know… you know what? I’m sorry.” You’re not exactly sure what you’re sorry for, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. What you are exactly sure of, is that it’s definitely time for you both to get some sleep so you can start forming coherent thoughts again. “I guess I’m just a little scared to be alone right now,” you admit, uncrossing your arms as you take a few more steps in his direction.

“I get that,” he whispers, parting his lips as you get closer to him. “I do.”

You smile and notice that the shirt he’s wearing is still damp and nearly ripped to shreds, his own blood staining the few spots a dark faded brown. The section he’d ripped off to help you leaves a giant gap exposing the hair just below his navel and the bend of his hip. “You really should take this off,” you start, lifting your hands up to touch his wet, crumpled collar. “I have a dry shirt you can borrow.”

“Thank you.” A smile just big enough to show his teeth graces his features as he lets you unbutton his shirt, his hands nervously pulsing themselves into fists by his side. He looks into your eyes for a split second as you work to disrobe him; that warm, soothing calm resting between you both as you return his smile and slowly pull his shirt apart. Your lips nearly touch, your nose brushing against his before he bashfully looks down at his feet until you slide the wet and dirty cloth off his shoulders. “You should change, too… so you don’t catch a cold.”

“I will.” You run your palms over his terribly scarred biceps, just barely touching them as their tiny hairs stand on end, acting as a conduit for the invisible electricity between you two. They follow the path of least resistance, connecting your hands to his skin as they make their way down his elbows and forearms until they finally reach his hands that squeeze your fingers. No longer wrinkled from the rain, they warm your palms before intertwining themselves with yours, pulling you in and keeping you near.

Part of you wants to kiss him as you look into his eyes once more, to lean into this sudden and strange connection forged through blood, sweat and tears, but the other part of you is begging for sleep. You can feel the muscles in your calves twitching from fatigue, the insane amount of stress you just put them through forcing them into failure much earlier than you anticipated. You squeeze his hands affectionately as he holds your gaze, kind and patient as your eyes flutter shut before you open them up again, through nothing more than sheer force of will.

This can wait.

“Let me get you that shirt,” you tell him as you let go of his hands, nodding your head in the direction of your closet to free yourself from any further temptation.

A pale figure takes shape before your eyes, blurry at first as it contrasts against the surrounding darkness like smoke creeping across the air. It slowly comes into focus, unveiling high cheekbones hollowed out in the shape of a man’s face, one that you’ve seen before, but can’t quite place. The figure before you is dangerously handsome, jet black hair falling in front of charcoal eyes as he seems to slither up to you, a knowing glance painting his sharp features into a satisfied, smug look.

“Leaving so soon?” He traces the outline of your face, tickling the fine hair along your jawline before curling his fingers up under your chin. That sly smile of his bends into a smirk as he leans forward, taking his time to meticulously look you up and down. “After I’ve been waiting all this time to be with you? After all that we’ve shared together?”

“All that we’ve shared?” You hear yourself ask as if you have no control over your body, a tingling chill suddenly flowing through you as he touches your face. You’re unsure if this is a memory playing out in your head, or a more clear and present danger as you’re able to feel your surroundings with all five senses. Your brain may be foggy in telling you that this is a dream, but your body is narrating a completely different story altogether. “We’ve only just met.”

“Have we?” he implores, those inky black eyes of his getting darker as he grabs onto your chin, matching the vaporous void behind him. He grins and brings his lips that much closer to yours as you begin to shiver beneath his grasp, your breath becoming more shallow with each inhalation. “Try again.”

He has some sort of power over you, keeping you still without the aid of chemicals or restraints as you try your best to escape. You attempt to move your face away from his, to lift your arms to maybe push him off of you, but it doesn’t work. You try to run forwards and then backwards but your feet are somehow glued to the ground, locking you in place. You want to yell and scream, to possibly deafen him into letting you go, but you can’t seem to find any part of your voice.

It isn’t until you’ve exhausted all of your options that you decide to give up and submit to his will. Instead of fighting against him, you allow yourself to look into his eyes, ready to see the truth about what brought him to you in the first place, or vice versa.

“I came to you.” You hear yourself calmly realize out loud.

“That’s right.” His smile widens as you play his game, his other hand smoothing his fingers through your hair then down the back of your spine. “And why is that?”

“I was drawn to you… called to you somehow before I even met you, and when I did it was like…” You pause as he gently squeezes the base of your neck, his thumb following your pulse down your throat and into your clavicle. All of the sudden you recall him delivering endless nights of pleasure in an almost shamefully passionate union forged just as instantly as he had graced you with his presence. “It was like magic.”

“Good.” He smiles, his pointed teeth shining through his lips as he whispers against your cheek. “I can’t imagine you’d want to throw all that away, little lamb.”He feathers his words against the shell of your ear, sending another shiver down your spine that morphs your initial sense of intrigue into a deepening shade of desire.

You feel him press his lips against yours in an all too familiar flavor, that initial memory resurfacing from within your subconscious as he kisses you. His tongue is slow and gentle, colliding along with yours as your lips part even further to grant him access. His hands caress your neck and shoulders as you feel yourself give in to the pleasure he so generously provides, surrendering to his touch completely. You somehow feel your own hands touch the icy cold skin of his face and arms, wrapping yourself around him until something sharp catches on your bottom lip. You hiss as the cool, crisp air shocks your open flesh, the salty taste of blood lingering on your lips as it drips from his teeth.

“Come back to me.” He orders, licking the blood off your lips and tongue before making a gratuitous display of clearing it from his teeth. “Can you do that for me?”

You feel yourself nodding your head, letting him kiss you again as the blood pours out of your lips and into his mouth. That bitter chill inside you grows as you kiss him back, forcing every cell within your body to shiver as the blood runs down your chin and onto your pillow. Your pillow…your bed…wait a minute…

You blink a few times as your eyes begin to focus on their new surroundings, your half-open closet and dresser bringing you back to reality as you finally lift your head off the pillow. Thank God. You bring your hand up to your mouth to make sure that you’re no longer bleeding from that imaginary wound, that what you just experienced was nothing more than a hyper realistic dream. Your lips are dry and chapped, moistened only by the tiny hint of drool that always accompanies you into slumber as you check your sheets for any more evidence of foul play.

Nothing.

You glance over at the clock on your bedside table and realize that it’s almost four in the afternoon, the sun glowing a burnt orange behind your curtains as you gather the strength to sit up. The dried gauze on your neck serves as a reminder of the chaotic events of the past twenty-four hours, cleaving your actual memories from the nightmare that still lingers in the recesses of your mind. It starts to fade away just as soon as it came upon you, like grains of sand sifting through your fingers no matter how hard you try to keep it in your palms. As most of the details dissipate into the void, the main idea still remains.

You stand up and walk into the living room, only to find that Jack is still there at your request, fast asleep on your couch in your Hamilton sweatshirt with your cat curled up next to him.

#gael garcia bernal #gael garcía bernal #werewolf by night #jack russell #jack russell x you #jack russell x female reader #jack russell imagine #werewolf by night fan fiction #david dastmlachian #vampires #werewolves #horror #marvel

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zedecksiew · 1 year ago

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Three Objects

Sketching has been good at breaking up the misery of staring at a manuscript and being stuck. At least with the drawing I'm roadblocked by my lack of skill rather than my lack of ideas. There are things from an adventure I am currently writing for Colin Le Sueur’s We Deal In Lead. It began as a homage to Wisit Sasanatieng’s tomyamgong western Fa Thalai Chon / Tears Of The Black Tiger.

+++

WIDOW GON'S PALANQUIN

A broad teak throne: canopied, curtained, cushioned. Stinks of tobacco.

Its bearers: the captive brothers Khol. Every night Lady Sao Rai visits their garage, selects a brother, and fucks him in her grandmother's palanquin.

The Khols are too afraid to refuse her.

The Widow is matriarch of House Gon. It will be her fiftieth birthday, soon. An elaborate fete is planned.

Captives are found across the sea, created through poverty, criminal sentences, or legal abduction. By Admiralty law, a captive must go free once they earn their owner their original price, a hundred times over.

In practice, few owners obey.

+++

It should be obvious what captives are. I ding-donged with myself about the nomenclature, here.

A simple reason for avoiding the word "slave" is because most people think "transatlantic slave trade" as soon as you say it. If nothing else I want to avoid the association because it is inaccurate.

On the other hand: annoying to have to decenter Southeast Asia in this way! The equivalent of having to say "chai tea" when I should be able to say "tea", because that is what the word means to me!

(I strain against this specific problem often.)

Finally I decided "captive" was good, after all. This kind of legalistic euphemism ("Oh, they aren't slaves, they are indentured servants.") is exactly in character for rich assholes bending language to assuage their consciences.

+++

HOUSEHOLD PSYCHOPHONE

Listening room: settees; shelf of wax-cylinder records; a podium on which sits a psychophone.

Pop a cylinder into the psychophone, point its antenna at a servant wearing the receiving brooch, listen to them sing in an alto entirely not their own.

Psychophones have been ruinous to local performers. Once-celebrated local singers have been reduced to glorified loudspeakers: vessels for the voices of famous chanteuses from across the Ocean.

This home entertainment system requires at least two to operate:

One servant (or more commonly a servitor) to turn the crank;

One servant to serve as a receiver-singer.

A receiver-singer's health eventually suffers. When you have somebody else's voice (and soul) forced into you over and over, and you begin to lose your own …

+++

This one was troublesome. Felt like production design. Appliance design.

Had several goals:

The core mechanism has to look like it makes sense, to its own internal logic. No greebling; every bit needs to look like it has a purpose.

Lots of ornamentation. This is a luxury device belonging to aristocrats from a rococo Indochinese-inspired society. It needs to be a jewelbox.

Genteel normalisation of vicious magic. The needle made of bone; the antenna that is basically a massive needle pointed at your head---but disguised as a pretty bird.

The receiver-brooch is something I discovered while sketching. Seems gameable? Also, in the spirit of point 3: the brooch has a pin you stick in your forehead.

+++

GHOST WATER

Auw Yin Yan, the Sea of Sorrows---of Sighs.

Imagine bodies in a mass grave the size of a country. Imagine them luminescent, in motion. Pulled by the moon, waved by the wind, clawing at the quay.

Always forms into human shapes: when poured into a bowl, ghost water sits as a balled fist.

Like saltwater in most respects. The Sea teems with marine life, though these are cunning and cruel in human ways. Humans cannot swim ghost water. Do not fall in.

Ghosts wear the outfits and injuries they had at death. Rarely, one will crawl onto land, eyes open, a hungry ghast.

+++

Yeah, so: the wider campaign setting for this adventure is defined by the Sea of Sorrows. It has whales and islands and pirates. It is filled with ghosts instead of water.

I saw the Sea in my mind as a vast Escher-esque tangle of interlocking ghost-bodies.

A wave would be bodies flinging themselves on a beach; their arms and hands dragging on the sand as they pull back into the surf.

I drew a way simpler visual. And the ghost's hair is cheating: it already looks like water.

Still: very pleased with this sketch. Gentle, sort of sweet, quietly creepy. Also it is a modest bailing bucket, which contrasts with the material excess of the palanquin and psychophone.

+++

#writing #art #fantasies #we deal in lead #sea of sorrows #process notes #adventures #settings #objects #ghosts

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lavendarlily · 1 year ago

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ectoberhaunt day 4: aliens @ectoberhaunt

an alien feeling

words: 950

read it on ao3

the smoke clears. he’s unsure what’s happened, but there’s something not quite right.

The crackle of electricity dissipated, the smoke finally cleared. If the burnt smell was coming from his own being, he wasn’t sure. Eyelids slowly separated as he started to come to, though something was feeling not quite the way it should. Glancing down at his chest, he could see a black jumpsuit covering most of his body. His hands were now gloved with stark white fabric. He shifted his leg and noticed his feet were contained in equally white boots. This was all certainly new.

Two figures came up to him through the fog, screaming and crying, clutching at his body. They kept asking him if he was okay, if he could hear them, telling him how sorry they were. All he could do was nod in response, unsure of what else to say. It was all so confusing.

Once they accepted he was fine, the two began arguing with each other. It was your fault! This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t push it! I can’t believe you’d let him do that!

The voices were so loud, and he unintentionally winced and groaned, catching the attention of the two. They both looked at him with concern and panic written across their faces. The girl turned back to the boy, saying something about getting him upstairs before his parents came home. The boy shot back saying he knew that, he wasn’t stupid.

The girl pulled him up from the ground, and the boy went ahead to make sure the coast was clear. He was surprised by how weak he felt and how much he relied on the girl holding him upright. They led him upstairs, and he was guided to the bed. The two then stepped back and looked at him expectantly.

What was he supposed to say? He was as lost as they were. Heck, he didn’t even recognize the people in front of him, unsure why they were helping him. He’d been hoping they could provide some answers.

It could be worse, the boy said. The girl glared back at him, asking how it possibly could be worse.

“Well, he’s clearly not dead , for one thing.”

The sentence hung in the air with its implications. He stood from the bed and walked over to the mirror. In it, blazing green eyes greeted his own, a soft glow emanating from his body. He remembered the pain he experienced only minutes before and wondered.

He wasn’t dead? There was something so obviously wrong.

A door slammed from the level below, and the others shared another look of alarm.

“Stay here,” the girl ordered, and the two ran down the stairs, leaving him alone.

He refocused his attention to the mirror and reached for the glass, yet his hand slipped through it, phasing in and out of tangibility. Odd - that usually didn’t happen. It was as if something was fighting with him, trying to take control. The arm flashed back, but the occurrence still worried him.

If he turned his focus inward, he swore he could hear a voice that wasn’t his, thoughts that didn’t belong to him, and an ache that was unfamiliar. It was unsettling, so he chose not to pay it much attention. The more important question - what was he? Where did this form come from? He placed his hand to his chest. What laid under it at least felt familiar and could provide some sense of relief. He was still himself. That hadn’t changed.

He jumped at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. A booming voice came from the stairway, yelling about What do you think you were doing in the lab have we taught you nothing how could you put yourself and your friends in danger like that!

A flash of panic fluttered from his chest, and an indescribable feeling took over. Bright rings of light emerged from his waist and enveloped his body. Warmth replaced cold, a heartbeat picked up, glowing hands turned to rough pale skin.

His strength slipped away from him, the strange thoughts grew louder. He felt himself fading, losing the fight against the unidentifiable force. He was dragged into his core, though he tried to cling to the surface, clawing at existence. The void consumed him in the end.

Danny blinked open blue eyes. Weird. He felt like he’d be unconscious the last twenty minutes. His body ached. He was back in his normal clothes, unsure when he changed from his lab wear.

The lab. That’s the last he remembered, being down there with Sam and Tuck. The rest was…elusive.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, as his father burst through his bedroom door, the angriest Danny had ever seen. Sam and Tucker peered from behind, offering apologetic looks.

After his father gave him a stern talking to and a two-week grounding, Sam and Tucker carefully reentered the bedroom.

“How did you do that?” Sam asked.

“Do what?”

“Dude, you were like, kind of a ghost before we went downstairs,” Tucker answered.

Danny furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about? I don’t even remember the last twenty minutes. It’s like I blacked out. What…happened?” His voice shook as he let the words out. A ghost? He wasn’t a ghost. He was human. The reflection in his mirror showed that much. The beating of his heart proved it.

Sam and Tucker shared a look that concerned Danny, almost as much as the odd throbbing in his chest and what felt like a voice echoing in his head, one that didn’t belong to him. It was screaming, begging, clawing at his mind. He shook off the alien thoughts and took a deep breath.

He needed to rest.

#ectoberhaunt23 #eh23 #eh science #day 4 #aliens #danny phantom #lavswordvomit

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aporia-nsfw · 11 months ago

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The Sprawl

Worked more on applying monster culture to liminal spaces horror. Old stuff.

In liminal spaces the core anxiety is that you are the intruder and do not belong. So, it's a kind of inversion of traditional horror. The liminal space is a glitch in the system, an error which allows us to go outside and become monstrous. The liminal space is an invitation to crime.

Anyhow, I am starting to have some better ideas on how liminal spaces could work without the presence of traditional kinds of monsters. I kind of see an idea of something along the lines of Myst. I feel like it might be easy to slip into some Pocahontas pseudo-anticolonial narrative though.

The liminal space

We are not welcome here. The very architecture seems to shrink and bend away from us.

Tips

You are a stranger to this place

You are an intruder in a home

You are not supposed to be here

Thesis 1: The liminal space is a marker of flesh

It bit me! I can't believe it. Best to avoid touching anything funny next time.

Tips

The liminal space is a beauty salon

The liminal space is a tattoo studio

Thesis 2: The liminal space can not hold you

We are making good progress. But this place is so big. It's almost like a whole new world.

Tips

The liminal space is a crack in the wall

The liminal space is an unlocked door

The liminal space is a treasure with no guards

Thesis 3: The liminal space is a map without a territory

At least, we're never going to get lost here. There are sign posts on every intersection. If only we knew what the signs meant.

Tips

The liminal space is a record store of silent records

The liminal space is a library of blank books

Thesis 4: The liminal space is the mother of difference

Somewhere along the way we lost half the group. Some fell behind and some we could not keep up with. I hope they are still safe wherever they are.

Tips

The liminal space is a school

The liminal space is a courtroom

Thesis 5: The liminal space has been fenced off to define the possible

We found signs today that some other people have been here before. I mean men like us, not the natives. We found the remains of a campfire, some scattered supplies and papers.

Tips

The liminal space is an exit without an entrance

The liminal space is a key without a lock

Someone is hiding the liminal space for a purpose

Thesis 6: The liminal space makes us beautiful and ugly

It has been a long while. We all are a little tanner, a little leaner and a little harder. I envy the strength of some of my men. I worry what they would do without my leadership.

Tips

The liminal space is a weight room

The liminal space is a clothing store

The liminal space is a nudist beach

Thesis 7: The liminal space is an undoing

Will I ever be comfortable here?

Tips

You are a child returning

You are a question: how does she perceive the world?

You are a question: why has she created you?

Natives of liminal space

The natives of a liminal space are not monsters. If the horror of the liminal space is the fear of trespassing and fear of becoming a monster then the natives should facilitate transformation into monsters. The natives must then be victims: guests, hosts, animals, wandering traders, orphans, young women, widows. Of course, like an angry ghost, victims can transform into monsters upon a violation of taboo.

Birds

I keep telling George not to but he insists on feeding the animals. It's probably not healthy for them.

Tips

Don't feed the birds

Feed the birds

Hosts

Odd fellows, all gangly limbs and sallow skin. Very skittish and prone to loud yells. Still, they seem to mean us no harm. Very generous.

Tips

Keep your distance

Don't start any trouble

Don't take too much

Guests

One night while sitting beside the fire a travelling native came to us. He just seemed to want to be warm. We shared some of the soup we were cooking for dinner. He seemed to like it. In the morning the guest was gone. He left behind some green sausages.

Tips

Respect hospitality

Traders

One of the natives approached us today. He seemed to want to barter with us. George traded a flashlight for stale pastries. The native seemed very excited with the bargain.

Tips

Traders want your trinkets

Traders will absolutely scam you

Strangers

Good news. We met another man today. I mean of our own kind. Victor, a fellow stranger to the Sprawl. He promised to be our guide and show us out. For a reasonable fee of course. The natives seemed to keep their distance from Victor. I am assured we will be safe with him.

Tips

Fellow strangers can be helpful

Strangers are often desperate

Maidens

We found a house of young women as the hosts for tonight. I told the men I expected no funny business.

Tips

Do I really have to tell you not to assault young women?

Orphans

We saw a small one of the natives today. He was just a tiny child. Victor told us not to but George was so heart broken he gave the kid some of our rations.

Tips

Give to the poor

Witches

One of the natives refused to let Victor inside her home. Victor said it was alright in the end but it was a bit of a kerfuffle.

It seemed like the native woman was trying to tell us something important but there was too much of a language barrier.

Tips

Listen to the wise

Wanderers

Last night, Victor killed George and escaped. We are despondent.

Tips

The wanderers bear a mark

The wanderers can not truly be killed

The wanderers are not of this world or our own

The wanderers do not want us here

The wanderers bear strange beauty

The wanderers were once men like us

#liminal spaces #liminal

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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years ago

Note

apologies if any of these have been done already but 💥🎉🤍

Sorry for the delay, tumblr ate my response, but I got it back.

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

I had a lot of fun adapting Supernatural characters into teachers. The core teachers are the Horseman; Death is the English teach, Mr. Mort, who only assigns books related to death. Other characters are in a different English class, taught by fangirl Becky, who makes her students do fandom style homoerotic subtext analysis and honestly I still think that's hilarious now. The history teacher is War, Mr. Guerre, and he teaches exclusively about war, the bloodier the better. In this AU, Dean and Cas meet when Cas saves him from a fight, and I wrote: “My name is Castiel, and I am the one who just saved your ass.” And honestly I think that was pretty good, as far as AUing that line goes. All in all, this fic (what I wrote of it) is really... prettty decent? I mean, a lot of the writing makes me cringe, but not like I expected it to. I wrote it in 2016, when I was 16. My fic with the second-least kudos is Wake at 23, which I think is mostly because it's the most recent. I love Wake. I wrote a lot of it at 3am and I knew there were typos in it and I avoided looking at it for a couple of weeks, but when I finally did, it actually needed way less work than I thought. I basically just fixed typos and a couple sentences that didn't make sense because it was 3am but it was clear what I meant to say, and did minimal editing otherwise. I'm really happy with the writing quality on that one!

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

I celebrate when I actually complete & post, which isn't often. I don't usually do much, but I do enjoy it and feel good about it. I always give myself credit! I wouldn't say I seek validation from others; I crave feedback and engagement, I want a response, but it's not validation I'm looking for. There have been a couple times I wanted to post a fic on a particular day, and for life reasons had to post things a bit rough, and I don't always give myself enough credit for finishing in those cases, but I'm working on it. Celebrating mostly looks like me sitting in my room feeling satisfied, but when I actually complete and post ghost AU I'm going to buy a bottle of wine or something.

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Wake started out as kind of an exercise in deconstruction, but it became a story in its own right and I think it's better for it. The intended message of Wake was to show BJ feeling uncomfortable now that he was back in the life he'd spent so long dreaming of, feeling as though he doesn't fit, that he no longer belongs in his home, feeling distant from Peg who's the person he's supposed to feel closest to, not recognizing himself and worrying he's not the person he's supposed to be, and then showing all those feelings as being his fears, not the truth. It's all a part of his trauma and his brain is lying to him. I said this about this fic before, but he doesn't really wake up until Peg wakes him up by joining him in the kitchen. BJ sitting alone feeling alienated is part of the nightmare. It mirrors Peg's nightmare, where he comes home but she can't recognize him (haha I totally did that on purpose....). But there's one line in particular in this fic: BJ and Hawkeye, awake in the small hours, listening for choppers, and the war might as well have not ended at all, because not a damn thing had changed. I'm not sure people realized this was a bad thing. It's not negative on Hawkeye and BJ's friendship generally, but the point is that they have to let go of how they were during the war, if they want to wake up from the nightmare (and maybe Hawkeye already has; we don't know, because he doesn't appear here, only BJ's fantasy of him). BJ is clinging to Hawkeye as someone who understands, but he needs to let go. BJ calling Hawkeye at a normal hour to talk to his friend would be good; BJ calling Hawkeye here would be bad, and it's a good thing that he chooses not to. I was worried about people not getting the BJ scene in hills like white elephants. I think the part where Hawkeye suspects BJ figured out what he did but they don't discuss it for safety reasons is pretty clear. I hope so. I was concerned about that scene coming off too Hawkeye/Margaret, because I was worried people would think BJ thought Hawkeye was or might have the father, or that I was implying that. I'm very much against that interpretation of the canon version of this episode, because I think Hawkeye's role is more meaningful without that implication, and I feel that way tenfold about this fic. I don't want any implication that Hawkeye gave Margaret an abortion because he was somehow involved in her pregnancy. He did it because she needed one and that's it. However, despite all my fears, no one seems to have misinterpreted that scene! What a relief!!

#ty ally!! <3

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l8rose · 1 year ago

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No snippet or update for SfAL today but here’s something from an old project.

There was no questioning the scene that laid out before him. The sound of steel meeting steel echoed as clearly as thunder. Only the shouts of men and whinnying of horses rose above it in a crescendo of battle.

What a waste.

He mused to himself as he stared at the battlefield. He saw no point in this battle for there was nothing strategic about the land around them.

There was no mine. No field. No place that needed to be held.

This battle had been strange from the beginning with forces from Makress crossing the neutral zone and facing off against an enemy he did not know. He only knew that it was not his people that had been involved until the Grand Duke of Albia demanded they face off against these two forces.

Which was why he now watched as the enemy performed the strangest maneuver he had ever seen.

He could make out at least three groups that belonged to Makress. They were not large by any means, but they were enough that they should have been winning. Only they seemed to be working against each other instead of in tandem under a unified commander.

Even against this strange unknown force, they should have been capable of fighting, yet it seemed like they were faltering.

“What… are they doing?”

He knew the voice behind him, and he recognized that confusion in the man’s voice. He remained fixated on the battle before him. Watching as the left group pulled away from the larger group.

“I have no idea.” He responded with a small shrug before grinning. “How about we go find out?”

Battle made his heart speed in excitement, and it was about the only place he felt at home. Even if he hated the result, he could not deny how much war called to his blood.

“As you wish, my Lord.”

His grin deepened as he urged his horse forward down into the valley towards the combat that was waiting. Even as the horse dipped down the path, he saw the right side pull away. The strange formation was lost from sight as they rode.

The sounds of battle rang out before them but it was ignored in place of listening to the sounds of his men and their horses. A steady clip-clopping that seemed at odds at the horrific scenes he knew waited for them once they joined the battle.

“Some manner of trap?” The man behind him mused.

“Trap?” He questioned as he watched the central soldiers get abandoned by their fellows. “How? We surround their core and then they try to surround our larger force?”

“Perhaps an untested commander?”

He found himself laughing at the thought and finally turned to look at the man riding beside him. The cold blue eyes could be seen as emotionless, but he knew him well enough. To others, the dark haired man was Knight Commander DuMor of the Duam Knights but to him, he was simply Viktor. His second in command on this battlefield.

“Do you think the Dragoons would really follow an untested commander?” He responded with a small shake of his head.

No, this is something else.

Of that he was certain.

“Who knows with those bastards.” Viktor shrugged. “Perhaps they raided a prison for more murderers to add to their ranks.”

He laughed again before pasting a grim smile to his face.

Everyone knew the story of the Dragoons. Knights that were little more than monsters who attacked and gave no quarter. They were feared in every kingdom on the continent and were often seen as proof of the warmongering of their King.

“Strange.” Viktor spoke again. “We have yet to discover the identity of the other force.”

“I know.” He responded. “This whole thing stinks.”

“Like I said, trap.”

“Perhaps the others saw us coming and abandoned the field.” He responded with a small shrug of his shoulders. There had been no hiding their approach to the battlefield and it was not like he had ever bothered with the idea of stealthing his way to combat.

“Ah, terror of your name proceeds you.” Viktor laughed. “Who wouldn’t run when the Demon of Albia is advancing on the battlefield?”

“That’s a stupid nickname.” He griped but found himself chuckling along with Viktor.

He knew he was an exceptional swordsman but he also knew he was probably not the best in the Empire. Yet, his red hair and eyes had earned him that title. The demon of the battlefield.

Just another annoyance he had dealt with ever since he had turned to leading his family’s forces.

“My apologies, your Highness Kaelon Duam.” Viktor’s tone was teasing.

“It’s a good thing my sister likes you.” He sighed before shaking his head. “Stick with Kael or I’ll have you doing laps when we get back.”

“Yes, my lord.” Viktor still maintained that joyful tone.

They came over a small hill and he could clearly see everything laid out once more. The two flanks had all but abandoned the battle while that core continued to strive against the overwhelming odds. The sounds of crashing swords echoed above the terrified sounds of men and horses.

Even the smell hit him like a wave. The smell of blood, steel, and death.

Disgusting.

Kael hated that smell. The way it clung to his nose and seemed to drown everything out.

He could not see any flags save for that of the Dragoon in the center but even that was swaying as if their flagbearer was reaching the ends of his limits.

“Forward!” He shouted to his men before motioning his hand forward.

He gave no other orders as they kicked their horses into a sprint.

The battle was quickly joined but everything seemed to slow as he saw the Dragoon at the center of it all. In an instant, he recognized the one who had been abandoned by their fellows. Their gilded armor shining in the sun.

The Golden Dragoon, famous for being one of the most level-headed Commanders. They had defeated many Albian Commanders and it had often been a great discussion about who would finally take the Golden Dragoon’s head.

Some instinct in his chest told him he needed to get to the Dragoon.

This might be my chance.

A thin smile cracked across his face as he saw the opportunity to face off against the Dragoon. His heart thudded in tandem with his horse’s hooves striking the ground. Energy pumped through his veins and he focused on that singular goal.

Kael pressed the enemies before him, striking down the unknown soldiers and the Kingdom’s soldiers without a care of who was in the way. His own men followed suit, attacking those who would dare threaten the Empire.

Every second felt like an eternity as they fought their way to the center of the battle. The cries of dying men echoing all around him but it was all ignored as he saw an opening that would lead him straight to the Dragoon.

He urged his horse into that narrow space and charged straight towards them.

There was a brief moment of surprise when the Dragoon twisted away from their foe and looked at him. Shock travelled through him as his eyes met theirs through their helmet. Even as his horse bore down on the Dragoon, he could not help but think he had never seen eyes that looked like that.

Even with the battle raging around him, all he could think was that the eyes looked like he was staring at liquid gold.

Pretty…

The thought that crossed his mind was absurd and was quickly chased away as he saw the Dragoon move.

Kael tried to swing his own sword in a defensive move but realized too late that the Dragoon had not targeted him but his horse instead.

There was a strange sound from the horse as the Dragoon’s sword cut through the barding along the horse’s side. He jerked away at the last moment and felt the sword nick through the armor on his leg.

Swearing under his breath as the barding twisted and slid along the horse. He knew horse’s injury was not dangerous enough to keep it out of battle, but it would be difficult to maintain his position on the back of the horse.

He leapt from the horse and turned back to the Dragoon, expecting them to be readying their next attack against him, but he was surprised to find the Dragoon engaged in battle with another soldier already. Another soldier quickly joined the battle, and it became a two against one fight.

His chance to fight the Dragoon was slipping away but he could not abide by this much longer. Striding forward, he swung his sword and struck one soldier from behind.

The other turned to look at him in surprise before being cut down by the Dragoon.

Kael found himself grinning at the armored foe before him. Delight filled him and he gripped his sword tightly.

Finally!

“Looks like we get to fight.” His voice sounded disturbingly cheery on the battlefield.

The golden eyes behind the helmet seemed to narrow but the Dragoon quickly slid their foot forward and fell into a new posture. There was no hesitation in their moves as they moved quickly to swing at him.

A strange feeling blossomed in his chest as they danced with their swords. A grin became plastered on his face that only grew with that feeling.

Everything narrowed down to the fight.

There were no other soldiers or knights.

There was only him and the Dragoon.

With each strike and parry, he began to follow the Dragoon’s moves.

A frown began to grow on his face as he realized it quickly.

Something is wrong.

It had been hidden when the Dragoon was fighting regular soldiers but he had been trained by the best in the Albia Empire so he could see it.

The way the Dragoon’s moves were becoming sluggish.

It’s not fatigue. They’re not breathing heavily.

This was not the battle he wanted. Even if they were capable, this was far less than a Dragoon at the peak of their strength.

Kael took a step back and regarded the Dragoon calmly.

They remained standing straight but there was no mistaking that look in the Dragoon’s eyes.

Their eyes… they’re frustrated.

He grinned but the delight was half hearted.

There was something he had missed. Something that had happened before he and his men arrived on the battlefield.

That thought was driven away as the Dragoon launched an attack against him.

Their moves quickly became a frenzy and he knew the Dragoon was pushing their already weakened body. He returned each blow without hesitation.

Time seemed to bend around them. It felt like everything had stopped but the sound of a horn blaring made him realize that they had been swinging at each other for some time.

That horn seemed to signal something to the Dragoon who took several steps around from him.

The sound of horses meant that the rest of the Empire’s forces had arrived.

“My Lord!” Viktor’s voice called out over the field. “The enemy is in retreat.”

He nodded but he kept his gaze on the Dragoon before him.

The Dragoon seemed to falter at the words but quickly lifted their head and kept it held high. He could see the Dragoon was breathing heavily as if their fatigue had caught up with them all at once.

“Surrender.” He said as he pointed his sword at them.

The Dragoon said nothing but turned to look towards their forces. The battle still raged around them but it was clear that the remaining soldiers were on the losing end.

“Spare my men.” The voice that echoed from the helmet was not one he had expected.

It was feminine. Girlish even.

Perhaps Viktor was right, an untrained commander…

Kael was about to agree when a soft thud seemed to echo over the sounds of battle. The Dragoon lurched forward with a grunt, and he could see the arrow that had become lodged in their back.

His head whipped in the direction the arrow had come but his attention returned to the Dragoon who had fallen to one knee.

Their breath was heavy, but they lifted their head once more.

He knew that it was only through force of will that the Dragoon was still conscious, and he found himself in awe of this being who was determined to struggle on even if the wound should have been fatal.

“My men…”

“Will be spared if they surrender.” He answered coolly before turning towards Viktor. A simple nod was all his compatriot needed and orders were quickly given.

The Dragoon nodded at him before they closed their eyes.

He decided then to wipe and sheath his sword. A split second later, he found himself lifting the Dragoon in his arms.

“My Lord!?” Viktor’s voice echoed in his ears.

“They surrendered and needs treatment.” He responded but suddenly became more focused on the Dragoon in his arms.

Kael had initially planned on taking the young Dragoon back to his camp to be interrogated but something suddenly felt off about the figure in his arms.

The weight is wrong.

“Kael?” Viktor questioned when he paused.

Kael said nothing as he pulled off the Dragoon’s helmet.

He nearly dropped the Dragoon in shock when he saw the features that had matched the voice. A heart shaped face. A splattering of freckles across the bridge of their nose. Plump lips that were partially open as they breathed heavily.

“Good lord, it’s a woman.” Viktor’s voice conveyed the same shock that Kael felt.

Kael was about to argue that it was possible for the Golden Dragoon to be a very feminine man, but instinct told him that Viktor was right.

The foe that he had been wishing to fight was a woman.

“Wha-“ Viktor continued.

“I’ll deal with that after I get her back to my camp.” He glanced over at him before climbing up on his horse with her in his arms. He knew the extra person and armor would be heavy on a normal animal, but his war horse was not normal.

“What do you intend to do with her?” Viktor’s voice had become accusatory.

“Calm down.” He responded as he turned the horse back towards the direction of their camp. “I’m just making sure the Grand Duke doesn’t get his claws into her. Just be sure that no one else knows the Golden Dragoon was a woman.”

“Ah. Yes, my lord.” Viktor bowed his head.

He said nothing in response as he guided his horse away from the battlefield. He twisted his cape over her and hid her from the view of his soldiers.

I can’t let the Grand Duke know.

He said to himself even though he knew, deep down, that he did not want anyone to know.

#me #random #writing #my writing #old project

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