#but I can not stand his attitude even though that’s his whole thing as well
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nico-the-overlord · 6 months ago
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Oh I remember this guy. People always drag him in every comment section for apparently butchering panettone and acting like it still all went right
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luveline · 1 year ago
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heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.
but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!
love your writing and page, <3
ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader
Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress. 
It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts. 
"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby. 
"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch. 
"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?" 
"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that." 
Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you. 
"Too much?" you ask cautiously. 
"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?" 
"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler." 
"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines. 
Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…" 
Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them. 
His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly. 
You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice." 
"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms." 
Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side. 
"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?" 
A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine." 
"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear." 
Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble. 
"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask. 
"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says. 
Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.
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munsonsmixtapes · 21 days ago
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Billy Doesn't Know
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virgin!Eddie x experienced!fem!reader
summary: You and Billy have been hooking up and it isn't until you sleep with Eddie that you realize what you really like. 
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) grinding, sub!Eddie, dom!reader, Billy just generally being a dick but that’s not new, use of pet names all by reader (baby and good boy) hurt/no comfort
100% based on the song "Scotty Doesn't Know" by Lustra
part two
You pull up to Billy’s house, for some reason dreading seeing him. You don’t know why, though. You’re kind of over him and his attitude, but there’s something that keeps you coming back. You feel a pit forming in your stomach as you head up the steps to the house. You honestly feel so sick and you know exactly why. You’re becoming tired of Billy and the kind of guy he is and have wanted to break things off for a while. That’s the whole reason why you’re there, but you’re contemplating turning around and heading back home. 
You’re scared to tell him the truth. You’re afraid of what he might do, especially when he finds out why you’re breaking things off with him. Not only is he a complete dick to not only you, but everyone around you, but you’ve also just gotten bored of him. Well, that and you’ve found someone else. Someone who you knew actually wanted to be with you, unlike Billy. 
As soon as you knock on the door, it’s ripped open and you’re pushed against it just like always. You don’t even know what he’s doing, that’s not why you’re there and he knows it. His hand reaches for the buttons of your jeans anyway and you’re quick to stop him. 
“Wait,” you put your hand on top of Billy’s, preventing him from going further. He pulls back to look at you, frustration clear on his face which isn’t uncommon for him. It seems like he always has some sort of stick up his ass.
“What,” he spits. There’s a fire in his eyes, and not the one you’re used to, this look is murderous and for once, you’re not scared. God forbid Bill doesn’t get what he wants for once. 
“Can’t we just talk?” He lets out a laugh at that, moving away from you completely. Talk? The only kind of talking that Billy does is dirty talk.  
“Talk,” he laughs harder. “We don’t talk. We either fuck or we don’t.” That’s something that bugs you about Billy. He never wants to just have a conversation like a normal person. He’s always quick to try to fuck you. And even when he does talk to you, it’s always got sexual undertones and you don’t like that. The more you think about it, the more you realize that he doesn’t really have any redeeming qualities. Sure, he’s stupidly hot and knows how to fuck, but that’s pretty much it. He doesn’t have anything else going for him and that’s so disappointing to you. He could do and be so much more, but he’s not and he won’t. He’ll just continue to be a pig for the rest of his life.
“Well, right now I don’t want to.” That strikes a nerve and you can see it. If there’s one thing that he hates is being told no. Especially when it comes to being denied sex. Because the only person Billy cares about is Billy. He’s way too in love with him to think that anyone could possibly hate him. 
“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” He moves over to the back of the couch. He wants the word to hurt you, but it doesn’t. He’s called you that so many times that it’s lost all of its meaning. 
“Well, so are you,” you retort and you swear you can see his lips twitch, wanting to say something but he holds back for whatever reason. “You can’t just make me fuck you, Billy.” He could, but he’s not going to do that. Because as much of an absolute dick Billy could be, he’d never fuck a woman without her consent. 
“Get the fuck out,” he points to the door, but you’re still standing there, your arms crossed over your chest. 
“Fine.” You turn to leave, but he speaks up before you can. 
“Hey,” he says and you turn around, hoping for an apology, but you know you’re not going to get one. 
“What,” you snap, angry at him for being mad at you since you didn’t do anything wrong. But Billy will say differently. Hell tell you that you should have just fucked him, but that makes you even more angry. Maybe one of these days you’ll actually have the guts to leave him for good.
“There’s a party at Nancy’s on Saturday and we’re going.” Billy is always wanting to crash people’s parties but that’s where you draw the line. No way are you letting him crash your friend’s party. And no way are you bringing him as your plus one. You’re going to this alone. And maybe you’ll fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom just because you can.
“Nancy doesn’t like you.” Nancy really doesn’t like him. She even told you not to bring him. 
“But she likes you and I’m your plus one.” You hate that he just claims things like that. Giving you no say in the matter. You don’t like being told what to do. 
“You hate everyone who’s going to be there. You just want the free booze and to fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom.” You’re right and Billy doesn’t like that you know him so well. He doesn’t like how close you’ve gotten. If he was in his right mind, he’d tell you that he didn’t want to see you anymore. And he should, but he doesn’t because he can’t. 
“Right on the money, doll. You’re not as dumb as you look.” He’s told you the exact opposite on multiple occasions so now you know he’s just trying to get under your skin. He loves pissing you off. It always makes him unbelievably hard and now he’s going to have to rub one out when you leave.
“Fuck you, Billy.” He doesn’t like that the words sting as much as they do. They feel like a stab to the heart, especially since they’re coming from you. Especially since it’s his fault you’re acting like this. 
“Oh, but you already have,” he winks, taking another drag. You should’ve known he was going to respond like that. He’s always thinking dirty. Sex is always on his mind. “Now get out.”
“Oh, so you can call one of your other hookups?” He won’t and you know that. He’ll just jack off to the thought of nothing but you. 
“Yep,” he collapses onto the couch. “you’re boring me.” He takes another cigarette from his jacket pocket before lighting it and taking a drag. “I’ll just call Stacy or Jackie.” He blows the smoke into the air and you stand there, trying to not look so pissed off even though both know he’s full of shit. 
“Fine, I guess I’ll just leave then.” You give him one last chance to make it up to you, but he seems pretty stubborn tonight. 
“Good.” He doesn’t even bother to look up at you. “We’re done here.”
“Fine.” For once, you’re actually glad he’s kicking you out. You can’t stand to look at him anymore as all it does is make you angry. 
“You’re getting the weed,” Billy tells you as he tosses a twenty dollar bill your way. Ever since the two of you had gotten close, you had been the designated person to buy the weed and whatever other drug Billy wanted for the party he was going to. You haven’t even actually been invited and he still expects you to help him out just because the two of you are sleeping together. 
“Why me?” You asked as you stuff the cash into your bra even though you know exactly why. 
“Because you’re hot.” It’s more than that, though. But you don’t want Billy to know exactly how Eddie feels about you. That will just create a mess and you don’t want to give Billy yet another reason to hate Eddie. “And that freak always sells it to you for significantly less than it’s worth.” 
He’s already been calling him a freak just like the rest of Hawkins and you don’t understand why they’re all so horrible to him. He seems to just be misunderstood.
“Or it’s because Eddie doesn’t like you and refuses to sell to you because you’re a dick.” That’s very true, you had heard the words from the metal head himself and don’t blame him one bit for it. 
“Don’t talk to me like that,” he spits, standing from the couch and grabbing hold of your arm. It’s moments like this when you wonder why you’ve been spending so much time with him. You want to cut ties, but you’re scared of what will happen if you try. It’s not unlike Billy to get violent when things don’t go his way. 
“Or what?” You spit back. “You know you won’t hurt me so I don’t even know why you try to threaten me.” 
“The party’s at seven. Be ready. And wear something slutty.” You know exactly what’s going to happen next. Billy’s going to pick you up tomorrow and you’re going to act like nothing happened. That’s what you always do. You don’t have it in yourself to stay mad at him for long. Especially when he can be so sweet sometimes. 
“I’m actually going alone.” You emphasize the word to piss him off but he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. At least, that’s what he’s telling himself. “So have a good night, Billy. And while you’re falling asleep alone tonight, remember that this is your fault. It’s always your fucking fault.”
Really, the only reason why you’ve stuck around for so long was because of Max. She had become like a little sister to you and you felt the need to protect her from her older brother. You’ve seen just how horribly he’s treated her since he didn’t seem to mind yelling at her in front of you. Some days, you’ll come over just to spend time with her. When Billy’s at work, you’ll take her out for ice cream or shopping, just so she knows that she has someone who was on her side. 
“Get out,” he says, letting go of your arm and pointing towards his front door. Of course you had angered him. It seems like he always has a temper of some sort. You know where it comes from, but still don’t think he deserves to treat you or anyone else like that. And you make sure to let him know that, not afraid to stand up to him if you have to. 
“Gladly.” You head towards the door and pull it open, making sure to slam it once you go through it. 
You mutter to yourself all the way to your car, even as you’re getting in it. Once inside, you turn on the ignition and the music from the station you had turned it to blasts through the speakers and you feel like your ears are ringing because of how loud it is. 
Once the shock wears off, you turn the volume down and open your glove box, on the hunt for one of your mix tapes. Once you find one, you flip it over and notice that it has your name scrawled across it with the number three next to it in the messy handwriting you’ve become so familiar with. 
You put it in and turn up the volume as you nod your head to the song, absentmindedly heading in the opposite direction of home. You don’t want to go there just yet. And before you know it, you’re pulling into the all too familiar trailer park, parking once you pull up to the trailer with the familiar van outside it. 
You’re still angry at Billy so you’re not sure why you’re even there. You need to let off some steam, but you’re not sure that this is the place to do it. You’re not even sure that Eddie would be into what you’re thinking. He was just a friend after all and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him that you wanted to fuck him nor the fact that you had been crushing on him for quite some time. 
But you get out of the car anyway, heading to the door and knocking on it. A string of curse words can be heard from the other side, followed by a very loud “shit!” and a loud clatter. You step away from the door as it opens and there’s Eddie on the other side, dusting off his jeans while simultaneously looking like he’s out of breath. 
“Are you okay?” You ask as you step closer to him, reaching out to touch him, but he backs away. He can’t let you do that without wanting more. He wants to kiss you, maybe even more. Definitely more, but he’s not going to do anything about it. He can’t. Not if he wants to keep you as a friend. And it’s not like you’d want to fuck Eddie “the freak” Munson anyway. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just tripped.” He doesn’t want to tell you that he watched your car pull up from the window in his living room, hoping that you had been there for him even though he knows you aren’t. Because he’s just your dealer and nothing else. That’s all he ever is and that’s all he ever will be. It all just makes sense that way in his mind. 
Eddie’s not the kind of guy people marry or date. He’s the kind of guy people fuck just to get it out of their systems then swear him to secrecy because they’re too embarrassed to tell anyone that they’ve actually fucked him. Not that he’s fucked anyone anyway. And it’s not by choice, it’s just-who would want to do all that with him? He’s a freak, a nobody in everyone’s eyes and he hates that he thinks that badly of himself but he can’t help it. 
But if he’s being honest, though he’d never admit it, you’re the only one he’d want to be his first. He knows you’d be nothing but sweet and encouraging, but he’ll never bring the idea up to you. He can’t. It’s far too embarrassing and there’s no fucking way his shy, awkward self would ever get the guts to ask anyway. Not for lack of trying. He wants to, he wants to so badly, but how can he do that when everyone avoids him like the plague? 
And he knows that you’ll run from the hills if you ask, terrified to ruin what the two of you have, your friendship having already become very important even though it had only been a few months. And he absolutely can’t risk losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just can’t.
“Are you sure?” You ask, resting your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and Eddie swears he can feel the warmth of your skin through his shirt, hating himself because he’s wondering what they would feel like elsewhere-god, when had he become so needy for someone else in that department? His lotion, sock, and his hand usually did the trick, but now he kind of wants you to do it for him. 
“I’m fine,” he steps away, fear very evident in those pretty brown eyes and now you’re really worried  about him. You step closer and now you’re both in the kitchen and he’s backed up against the sink, really grateful that you can’t read his mind, because you surely would leave if you could. 
Your hand reaches up and runs through his hair, giving his scalp a scratch and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he hums, loving the way it feels. He wants you to pull on it as he fucks into you hard and deep, the prettiest moans falling from your lips.
“What’s going on, baby?” You ask, your voice so soft and gentle and Eddie doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as wonderful as you. “You’re not behaving like yourself.” He wants to lay it all out on the table right there, to tell you how crazy you’ve been driving him and just how often you’ve been the star of his late night fantasies, just how many wet dreams he’s had about you. 
“I can’t tell you,” he says as his eyes open, turning his head to the side because he can’t look at your pretty face anymore, but your hands move to his cheeks, turning his head to face forward, but he still won’t look you in the eye. 
“You can tell me,” you encourage, your voice still soft, trying your best to tread lightly. His eyes finally look into yours and you swear that his are misty. Your thumbs rub back and forth across his cheeks, trying your best to comfort him, trying to figure out what it is that he’s so upset about. 
You press yourself against him and if you can feel his rock hard cock you don’t say anything. You just pull him into a hug, catching Eddie completely off guard but eventually, he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath and gets a whiff of your perfume that he immediately finds intoxicating. 
You can hear him mumble something against your skin, but are entirely unsure what he had been saying, wanting him to repeat it. “What was that, baby?” You ask, your hand moving up to stroke his hair, but he doesn’t answer you, his face curling further into your neck as his hands crumple your shirt in his fists. 
“You can tell me,” you assure him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, especially not around me.” 
He then pulls back to look at you, slowly, his embarrassment trying to take over but he chokes it down. He gulps then looks you right in the eyes, his boring into yours and now you’re on the edge of your seat, so interested in what he has to say. 
“I-” he cuts himself off then takes a deep breath before starting again. “I want you to kiss me.” His voice is so low that you almost don’t hear him, but when you finally understand what he’s saying, you let out a laugh, and not because you thought it was funny but because you thought he was so goddamn adorable. 
“You’re so cute,” you reply, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself into him once again. “If you want to kiss me, then kiss me, baby.” 
He stays quiet for a moment, pursing his lips as if he’s thinking. Then the words that follow truly shock you. “I don’t know how,” he says, his voice still small and god, you just want to pull him into your arms and hold them there forever in order to protect him. This was the guy that everyone was so afraid of? He was nothing but precious and you didn’t understand why the entirety of Hawkins seemed to hate him. 
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask in shock, moreso surprised that no one has wanted to kiss him. That’s something that isn’t computing in your head in any way shape or form. And thinking about the fact that he wants you to be his first warmes your heart. You’re nothing but honored. 
“No,” he shakes his head before lowering it. You hate that he’s so embarrassed by it all. There’s no reason why he should be as everyone goes at their own pace  and it’s not his fault that no one wants to kiss him. Well, no one except for you. 
“Well I’d be honored to be your first,” you reply, watching those pretty brown eyes widen. 
“You’d really kiss me?” He asks as if he can’t possibly conceptualize it. And he can’t. Up until now, everyone had made it clear that they wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole, that he’s a freak, that he’ll just end up alone. 
“Of course I would,” you nod furiously, a wide grin on your face and Eddie’s convinced that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 
“What if I suck?” It’s so cute that he cares so much, wanting to make the experience enjoyable for you. 
“You won’t,” you assure him. “Because I’m going to teach you.” 
“But what about Billy?” The name makes you freeze, your blood already simmering, but not quite to a boil yet. Why does he care so much about Billy? 
“What about Billy, Eddie?” the words come out more harsh than you anticipate and you find yourself feeling guilty as he leans back, afraid. 
“Aren’t you two together.” You let out a loud laugh as if you genuinely find the whole thing funny. You and Billy? Billy couldn’t be a boyfriend if his life depended on it. He’s told you as much more times than you can count and you’re beginning to wonder why you ever wanted him to be that in the first place. 
“Not even close. We just fuck sometimes.” There’s a feeling rising in the pit of his stomach and he’s unsure what it is. All he knows is that he hates that Billy is able to get into your pants whenever he wants, especially acts like-well, Billy. What’s so special about him, anyway? Why does he get all the girls when he acts like an asshole? Is that why Eddie’s unable to get any? Because he’s too nice? 
“So you’re not-”
“Completely unattached,” you cut him off, leaning forward so that your lips ghost over his, brushing against them and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut and you let him take the lead, wanting him to do whatever he wanted, wanting him to feel comfortable. 
His lips press against yours gently in a featherlight peck as his hands move to hold onto your arms, feeling his hands shake against the sleeves of your shirt and your heart is about to burst as how absolutely adorable he is. You think he’s going to deepen it but he pulls away before you’re ready, his hands still shaking like leaves. 
Your eyes open and you can see the pink in his cheeks, his lips parting as if he’s going to say something and you know he wants to. He always wants to speak and you think that’s your favorite thing about him. You love that he talks to you differently from his other friends. That he feels like he can tell you things he’s afraid to tell other people. 
“How was that?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip as you subconsciously twirl one of his curls around your pointer finger. 
“That was perfect,” you respond with a soft smile and watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You don’t know why he’s so confused. Consent is so important to you and you’d never want to do anything that made him uncomfortable. 
“Can I-” he licks his lips as he pulls you closer. “Can I try again?”
“Of course you can,” you nod and he leans forward, his hands still gripping your shirt as he pulls you in. His lips capture your bottom one and just when you think he’s going to go for it, he pauses, his eyes wide as it finally hits him what he’s doing. 
You take the lead now, your lips moving against his still ones as he stays frozen, his shoulders locked up right by his ears. But as he slowly follows you, he finds himself melting into you, realizing that it’s not nearly as complicated as initially thought. In fact, it’s so easy, especially when you’re doing a lot of the work. 
Your lips are just as soft as he was hoping and he wonders what they taste like, what flavor the sticky lip gloss you’re wearing is. But can’t get himself to go for it, not yet. He just wants to kiss you for now, not quite ready for a makeout session for yet. 
You pull away before he’s ready and he feels his cock twitch when he sees your lip gloss smeared, knowing that he was the one to make it look like that. He goes in for more but you’re quick to put your free hand against his chest to hold him back. 
“Hold on,” you say. “I just want to tell you a few things before we continue.” He nods and waits for you to speak again. “First off, you need to breathe, baby. Can’t have you passing out on me,” you giggle. “And I don’t know why you were so nervous before. You’re a natural.” 
You watch his cheeks blush, that bright red color that always makes you want to pinch them. Before you can register what he’s doing, he’s on you again, this time more rough, his hands clutching onto your shirt for dear life as he kisses you stupid, making you feel dizzy. 
Your hands slide into his hair as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip and he slowly opens up, letting you inside. It tangles with his and you hear a loud moan fall from his mouth, feeling yourself getting even more wet. You grab onto his shirt and pull him even closer to you, backing the two of you out of the kitchen as your kisses get even more heated. 
Your lips taste like that artificial strawberry flavor and even though Eddie hates that flavor normally, he can’t get enough. It’s intoxicating and he needs more, his tongue sliding into your mouth as your lips wrap around it, giving it a suck, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth. 
You find yourself in the living room, your hands moving into his hair, giving it a tug, causing his head to fall back, giving you a perfect opportunity to press your lips to his jaw, moan after moan tumbling from his mouth as his legs start to feel like jello, causing him to fall onto the couch. You can see his cock tenting in his pants and you feel your slick trickling down your leg as you thought about having him deep inside you. 
Before you can stop yourself, you straddle his waist as your lips find his, your hands grabbing hold of his own as you move them to your hips, your hands sliding into his hair again as you fingers dig into his scalp, taking what you want from him as he’s pliant under your touch. 
You begin to grind against him and Eddie swears that he’s died and gone to heaven. And when your mouth lands on his neck and your lips suck on it-god, he’s going to come right there. He can feel it. He’s gonna let you do this all night if you want to, addicted to the feeling of your mouth on his neck. 
And he really does come when your teeth scrape along the sensitive spot, a loud moan falls from his lips as he orgasms for another person for the first time. And god is this so much better than all of the dates he’s had with his hand. 
“That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Just like that. You’re doing so good.” He’s realizing now that he has a major praise kink, wanting, needing you to do more of that.
“More,” he whines as you continue to grind against him, and that mixed with how you’re scandalizing his neck is making him overstimulated, but he hardly cares. He’s so high off of his orgasm that he doesn’t give a single fuck. In fact, he’ll let you do whatever you want to him, knowing that you’ll be gentle and caring the whole time. 
“Relax, baby. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hm?” You pull away from him, your lip gloss smeared all across your face now. Eddie’s pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, his head tilting to the side like a little puppy, giving you a full view of the hickey forming on his neck. “Gotta be a good boy for me if you want your treat.”
“I can be a good boy,” he nods furiously as his eyes get even wider, wanting to do whatever he can to please you. “I can be such a good boy you have no idea.” 
You continue to grind against as his fingers dig into the stripe of skin that had been exposed by your shirt riding up. Your hands move to the button of his jeans and you look up at him, making sure that it’s okay if you continue. 
“Do it,” he nods. “I trust you.” You can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth, but you have to be sure. You’d hate it if he was only telling you that because you wanted it. 
“You really want me to be your first?” You asked, your grinding coming to a halt as you looked him in the eyes, leaning closer to see if he was lying out not. 
“More than anything,” he replies, the words coming out more desperate than he intended, his eyes pleading as he looks up at you. They’re now filled with lust and now you know he’s telling the truth so your hands unbutton his jeans as he removes his shirt, his tattoos on display. God, he’s even hotter than you imagined. 
You remove yourself from him as his pants come off while you take off your socks and shoes, moving slowly as you catch how he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. And god do you want him to. To bury his head between thighs and eat you for dinner until the early morning so he could have you for breakfast and all the way to lunch and then for dinner again. 
You then decide to give him a show, thinking that he’s earned a treat for being such a good boy. You begin stripping off your clothing as slowly as possible, starting with your pants, unzipping them then sliding them down your legs then tossing them to the side. 
You then move on to your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before moving to stand in front of Eddie, pointing to the couch cushion.
“Lie back,” you tell him and he situates himself to lie against the cushions of the couch and you feel yourself getting soaked as straddle his waist, watching him underneath you. He’s so shy and cute and you feel honored that you’re the one he wants to take this big step with. “I just want you to know that just because you give consent doesn’t mean you can’t take it away. If I do something you don’t like or if you want to stop because you’re not ready. Don’t be shy to let me know. I want you to feel safe,” your hand reaches up and caresses his face. “I want you to feel comfortable.”
“I understand,” he nods. “I-I appreciate you being so gentle with me.” 
“I’ll always be gentle with you,” you press a kiss to his lips. “Unless you as me not to,” you wink and swear you feel Eddie’s cock twitch against your cunt. 
“Take it off for me, will you baby?” You ask and his hands move higher until they reach the back of your bra and you can tell he’s struggling but he eventually gets it, the bra falling between you, your tits on display. Eddie’s staring at them and you don’t have to ask to know what he’s thinking. 
You remove yourself from him and hurry to your purse for a condom before taking off your panties and wait for him to do the same with his boxers. Once he’s fully naked, you can’t help but stare down at his cock, surprised by the sheer size of the thing. Who knew that Eddie Munon was packing? You certainly didn’t. 
“You’re so big,” you say as your hand wraps around him and he lets out a gasp. “Think it’s all gonna fit?” You ask and Eddie just gulps. “I guess we’ll have to find out,” you smirk. 
“Guess we will,” Eddie breathes and you let go of him, opening the condom and putting it on him before your hands rest on his shoulders as you get on top of him again, sinking slowly onto his cock, both of you letting out moans as you did so. 
His hands move to your waist as you ride him slowly, not wanting to do too much too fast since it’s his first time. Yours had been nothing but perfect as it had been with Billy. You still remember it like it had just happened even though it had been over two years ago. He was nothing but rough, only wanting to fuck you because he was obsessed with taking your virginity. Like he had a point to prove. And in typical Billy fashion, he didn’t care in the slightest if you enjoyed it, only trying to fulfill his own sick fantasy and that was it.
But with Eddie, you wanted to make sure that it was something he enjoyed, something he looked back on fondly whenever it came to mind. And even if he didn’t enjoy it and asked you to stop, you still hoped it worked out with whoever he had his first time with. 
He bucks his hips against yours and you can see on his face that he’s unsure if that’s what he’s supposed to be doing. But by the way you’re moaning and whining he thinks it is. He really doesn’t even know what he’s, just following what he had seen in movies and the occasional porn he had watched when he was sure that Wayne would be home late.
“That’s it baby,” you encourage. “Just like that, such a good boy.” Your words seem to unleash something in him because he’s bucking his hips as hard as he can, moving so fast that it’s hard for you to keep up. And it’s not because he wants to, not at all. It almost seemed like he had a point to prove, that he was trying to show you that he could do it hard. 
“Hey, hey,” you push him against the cushions, trying to get his attention. “Slow down, hon. What’s your rush?”
“I just-” he cuts himself off, bringing himself back down onto the cushion, his eyes widening as he’s realized that he’s been caught. “I’m just trying to keep up with Billy, I guess.” He says the words lamely and his voice is so small that you swear you can hear your heart actually break. 
“That’s what this is about? Eddie-” you try to gather your thoughts, one of your hands moving to stroke his hair. “Baby,” you sigh, lowering yourself onto him, resting your forehead against his. You feel a tear trail down your cheek and immediately wipe it away, not wanting him to see it, but he does anyway. 
He wipes the other one that follows then pulls you in for a tender kiss, his hands moving up and down your back gently as a way to soothe you. You realize then that you’ve finally found someone who cares about you. That cares enough to try and fuck you the way that you like it. 
“You’re so sweet,” you mumble against his lips before pulling away. “But that’s not how I like it.” Now you’re the one to shrink into yourself, feeling all of your feelings towards Billy piling up, eating away at you. 
Your stomach twists and before you can stop yourself, you’re off of him, gathering your clothes and getting dressed at record speed, Eddie hurrying to do the same, but he can only be bothered to put on his boxers. He’s so confused and hurt that now he’s the one who’s crying. God, he’s fucked up again.
Eddie’s hot on your heels as you get to the door, snot now running down his nose because of how much he’s crying. Why is everyone always leaving him? He really thought you’d finally be the one to stick, but he guesses he’s wrong. You’re just going to go back to Billy. He knows what he’s doing, after all. 
You hurry to your car and slam the door closed, hearing the mixtape he made for you blasting from the speakers. And just when he’s about to close the door, his eyes catch yours and even though he can’t see very well in the dark of the night, he swears that he can see you crying too. 
He slams the door to his trailer shut then hurries to his room, making sure that door is closed as well before he throws himself onto his bed, throwing the covers over himself as he cries himself to sleep. He’s so hurt that that’s all he knows what to do when he feels pain. His dad always told him that crying was for pussies and now that he wasn’t around, he could cry as he damn well pleased. 
So he stays like that for the rest of the night until he falls asleep, the events of the night replaying over and over as he tries to figure out what he had done wrong. He had done too much, that was for sure. He was just trying to do what he thought you liked and that caused you to leave. He had fucked up and fucked up bad. He knew that much. He was definitely going to remember his first time but not for the reasons he was hoping. He supposed that he really was just Eddie “the freak” Munson and that was something that would never change.
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thr0wnawayy · 3 months ago
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Midoriya's Delusion
This is post that builds upon my previous one, I've copied many of the points I made there to here. Albiet with some corrections and tweaks.
To summarize, I have a bit of a crack theory that chapter 430 isn't as real as we've been led to believe. (As for when this actually takes place, that's up to you but I like to imagine the start of his third year marks the beginning of his mental decline.)
(As an update, I find it dubious whether 8 years have actually passed or if that's also a part of the fantasy. I can see Midoriya becoming so attached to the lie that his reference of time begins to warp)
This theory mostly comes from some inconsistencies in regards to the hero rankings and some other things I've found.
Corrections:
It's left ambiguous whether Best Jeanist and Endeavor are still active. However the fact that people view these two in a postive light (especially after Dabi and the war) still seems absurd.
2. Midoriya wasn't outright abandoned, rather their busy schedules make it hard for their days off to coincide. This falls apart when you look at this panel
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"The rate of new villains keep decreasing and the number of heroes have stabilized"
Besides Ochaco who's funding a quirk counseling project, the rest of the class should be able to make time. Again it's stated that they aren't actually fighting.
There's no real threat to face. Besides PR and Community Service there's bot a whole lot else (besides the occasional natural disaster)
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One could argue it's because the scope of what heroes do is increasing, thus keeping them busy. But again, we see heroes doing exactly what they did before, PR, Advertising and (implied) Showboating.
This leads me to believe that the lack of contact is based in reality, to some extent.
Whether it was by choice or forced by their (1A's) respective PR teams to preserve their images (can't be seen around the "freaks" for too long, now can we?).
The lie comes in the form of busy schedules.
Now whether that's what Midoriya tells himself or what he's been told, I cannot say for certain.
Disturbia:
For those of you who didn't read my last post, you may be wondering, so what's going on?.
Simply put:
Midoriya's having a breakdown fantasy to cope with the fact that he won't be becoming a hero due to the loss of his quirk.
Im aware it sounds crazy but consider the following:
1. Midoriya subconsciously knows the way he's been treated was wrong.
This manifests within the escapists fantasy in Bakugo's drop in the rankings + the attitude surrounding him (as well as his damaged hand never fully healing)
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He meets a kid who just so happens to be in a near exact same position as he once* was (and still is to an extent). One could take this as his mind's way of trying to cope and heal itself, by having Midoriya do what he does best and help others, henceforth working though his trauma by using the kid as a stand in.
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*Even the kid's "bully" seems to be a warped version of Bakugo (perhaps this is how Midoriya tries to fool himself into believing how it was)
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2. We see Kota.
I believe that here, Kota serves as what Midoriya thinks he could have been had he not failed. Kota is the idealized version of Midoriya here, the unobtainable.
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3. A lesson ignored
Apparently people forgot the connection between Endeavor and Shoto. You'd think this would be a good thing as Shoto would be able to become his own person.
This falls flat when you remember that also includes people forgetting the reason and happenings behind Shoto's existence, it feels like Midoriya is trying to have his cake and eat it too
To elaborate, this is a major copout, it allows Shouto to be unaffected by his family's past bith career wise and emotionally. While also feeding into Midoriya's rather toxic belief that forgiveness is required to be a good person.
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(The fact that killing Tomura violated this only adds to my theory that this whole thing is an escapist coping mechanism.)
(You can also add the idea that Tomura didn't forgive society for what they did to him and his friends. That likely broke all the "rules" that Midoriya knew.)
4. The Mech Suit is a massive cope, it's the dying whimper of Midoriya's childish hope that All Might will save the day.
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This time there's no magic quirk, no garrish mech suit, no plot twist.
No. There's only Midoriya and the consequences of his, his classmates and hero societies actions. It doesn't matter how shiny and seamless the illusion, how sweet the lie.
You can't hide the blood.
Concerning Aspects:
That was mostly the revised stuff, let me introduce you to some new points
1. A Frozen Lake
Something I noticed was certain characters seem to be almost frozen in time, as if someone tried to continue a story using scraps of the original text.
The curious case of Rei Himura:
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This scene seems almost stagnant, what was most noticeable was Enji's bandages still being on and Rei still being there.
It's as if Midoriya hasn't seen them in years (or perhaps doesn't want to acknowledge what happened). So his mind uses what he last saw/heard of them, creating a sterile, static scenario. Little better than props.
Those surrounding her (with the exception of Hawks) also seem to be stuck in the past.
It's definitely strange.
2. See No Evil, Hear no Evil, Speak No Evil
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Shigaraki is a representation of Midoriya's repressed guilt and his fears. I believe deep down Midoriya knows that, inevitably the cycle will repeat, so long as the system is allowed fester and wallow in it's complancy.
I find the fact that he's behind Midoriya to be ironic, as if to say: don't look back, don't think about what you've done.
A Symbol of Stagnation:
I should warn you that it does get lengthy from here, however I think it's important to get the full picture. Even if I tend to ramble here.
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It's implied here that Lemillion's the top hero. This is awful for a variety of reasons. Mirio is a horrible symbol.
All Might was flawed for a variety of reasons, but a majority of these were byproducts rather than directly being his own doing.
Mirio on the other hand, has such a cancerous philosophy that it actively harms all who interact with it.
Mirio is a follower, he follows orders first and asks questions never.
Eri is the best example of this. Even after Nighteye's death, Mirio never truly reflects on the damage his actions could have caused ( only saved by the narrative, seriously it's a miracle Eri trusts anyone besides Midoriya after being abandoned like that)
You see, the difference between Toshinori and Mirio lies in their actions and principles.
Mirio left Eri to die, all for the sake of the "mission".
For all the heroes knew, Eri could have been a trafficking victim and either have been killed or relocated. But no, appearances and "gotta catch em all" take priority even after knowing Eri is in the Yakuza's clutches.
Lemillion made the worst decisions possible. He followed a known murder into a secluded, restricted area (with a hostage mind you) bringing his pupil with him.
Willingly ignored blatant signs of abuse (just look at the girl) and played hooky with thre leader of a criminal organization, who is known for his short fuse and willingness to kill.
He did all of that, when he could have easily detained Overhaul at any point (his quirk being a direct counter)
Toroshinori would fight tooth and nail in that situation. Consequences be damned if it meant saving Eri.
Part of the reason Toroshinori was so effective as a hero was 1. His sense of justice and 2. His compassion.
Mirio is a symbol that can be controlled, a weapon if you will.
The fact that Mirio is at the top shows that things haven't changed and are even beginning to decline. So this brings me to my next point
You may be asking, if Midoriya's losing it in his own mind, what's the outside world look really like?.
Allow me to set the stage.
4. Speculation
Within Midoriya's muddled mind, Lemillion represents both his toxic optimism and a subconscious understanding that nothing has changed. It represents denial and acceptance, a dysfunctional middle ground that's easy enough for Midoriya to stomach.
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The truth of the matter is, delusion or not, the reality is soon to sink in.
Something that I don't see discussed is the lack of reactions from other nations or really any insight into how they were affected by everything that happend.
Here's the idea: Most likely they are foaming at the mouth.
Particularly it's the countries who suffered under Imperial Japan in the past (Korea, China, Singapore etc), however this also applies to every nation Nedzu brow beat into aiding with the rebuilding efforts, albiet their reaction would be latent.
Not not only is the attitude painfully reminiscent of how Japan handles it's past atrocities, Japan has had them clean up their messes. seen below:
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(you cannot tell me Big Red Dot over here is having a good time)
From an outside pov. The Commission never told anyone about AFO, rather they suppressed any information, locked him up in Tartarus and then sat on the whole situation until it blew up in their (read: everyones) faces.
He then proceeded to: kill over 8000 people (+ those killed during the Blackout period), kill the top hero of one of the world's most powerful nations and incite mass panic. Destroyed massive amounts of infrastructure and transport nationwide, broke thousands of criminals out of prison, destroying those prisons in the process.
Meanwhile the heroes:
Abandoned civilians in mass by quitting in the middle of a war.
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Left the public in the dark for months and allowing crime and paranoia to grow rampant, even (forcibly) bringing someone they knew was being targeted by AFO and his forces to the one place they could find shelter.
Mutilated a seven year old girl. Who has a history of being mutilated for the gain of others and patted themselves on the back. (Also having no holdup on how that may effect her physically via her quirk or mentally via her trauma)
Mic: tried to kill a docile prisoner who could be considered in comatose, based off of his emotional attachment to a dead man + viewing it as justified if it meant Spinner couldn't get to him.
Used hospital staff and patients as meatshields (Central Hospital) during a riot.
Most had no qualms supporting a child beating eugenicist and implied marital rapist, even with his one of his victims exposed him and citing it as his main reason for turning to villainy.
Held an illegal questioning* with said abuser while ignoring his main victim (Rei, who is probably the most reliable source of information there)
(*which effectively is like conducting an investigation on yourself and declaring you are not guilty)
And so much more! (But this post is getting too long)
My point is by the time everything was said and done, it seemed everyone but Japan was paying for it.
It's outright stated that the US president risked national security by sending every hero they had to help Japan. (Impeachment worthy if you ask me)
Endeavor's little plan to kill himself and Dabi in a blaze of death ended up disrupting the weather. Very likely it'll end up resembling an El Niño phenomenon, only vastly off schedule and even more destructive than normal.
For Reference [https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/ninonina.html]
Very likely it'll lead to an agricultural drought in the northern America's and mass flooding in southern America's, likely starting at the west coast and bleeding inland. Leading to a domino effect where cost of living surges due to the sudden displacement of people and the rapid loss of products.
Worse still, because the US had no heroes (likely for months on end), crime has likely surged in the America's, which will further impact the rest of the world.
The rebuilding efforts likely emptied the wallets of most participating countries, leaving them unable to help anyone, including themselves.
Also keep in mind that Japan incriminated themselves with the Business Course footage. I don't think the general public (outside of Japan) is going to take too kindly to a known murder and abuse apologist being in charge of a system already known for it's corruption.
The end result is likely be a world that detests Japan, either from a moral perspective (Rei's treatment + the treatment of those society abandoned), a financial perspective (we can't afford shit and you contributed to that) or historical perspective (you do this everytime and ignore the consequences).
A world divided by struggle and united by an immense loathing for the Commission's Japan and the culture surrounding it.
Oh, don't forget there's no finding left for quirk research. Meaning that it's very likely no one will be prepared for quirk singularity to start manifesting in the upcoming generations (Thanks Nedzu).
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Update: Can I just say that Aizawa's lack of ownership infuriates me even though this is likely a fantasy and not grounded in reality.
Like what the fuck do you mean "with the way he talks, it was pointless" Fantasy Aizawa.
Because "Hey Asshole", You deliberately ignored his attitude and offenses!. And what? Now your just gonna shrug it off like it wasn't your fault. To hell with that you had two years, most teacher are said to only get one. As you so graciously mentioned at the start of this shit show of an epilouge.
Heres the moment I'm referring to btw:
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While we're at it. Are you telling me it was too hard to get Momo some proper attire all three fucking years she was at UA for.
Not to mention Toru is still naked, how the fuck hasn't she died yet, she is literally exposed to the elements (and lord help her of she gets a cut)
Kirishima's costume is still his biggest liability considering it exposes his chest and back (also seeing as even when hardened he can't repell bullets)
Does Denki still fry himself with his quirk?
Before we move on Aizawa. How's that daughter you neglected, her horn still broken?.
Speaking of which let's look at the rescue team:
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What the hell is this!?
Let's see, we got a guy who can only do damage (and his sweat detonates on contact, destroying whatever it touches.)
A brainwasher who only got into the hero course via nepotism and who can only brainwash people who directly respond to him!. A person trapped underneath rubble either frantic or groaning in pain isn't going to be able to respond or even just give consent.
(On a side note what are the laws regarding mind control quirks, does some sort of waiver have to be signed, can a person sue for being controlled against their consent?)
Oh, but wait there's more.
Midoriya running headlong with experimental tech that has, very likely never seen the light of day. Let alone preform in an actual high stakes situation before.
You're trying to carry someone and oops! Something malfunctioned or was miscalculated, now there's an even bigger mess (hooray!)
Who could forget Mezo "they'll come for your kids" Soji. Who climbed the ladder and pulled it all the way up.
Yeah forget that Heteromorph's were getting hate crimed long before the war, ignore the fact that you yourself were maimed by an angry mob after doing one of the most heroic things a person can do. Dismiss Spinner's comment about being sprayed with Pesticide for walking in public.
Nah screw it, let's all sing Kumbaya while the Creation Rejection Clan runs wild outside the reach of the cities, then ignore that the discrimination still is prevalent in the countryside and it's only a matter of time before somone gets fed up and takes matters into their own hands. (talons, claws, you get the picture)
But your a hero now Soji, you got your's. So fuck the rest of 'em
And don't even get me started on Hawks. Congratulations you ignorant bastard, way to kill time and by that I mean for everyone but the heroes.
"Yeah life is great!, everyone hates us, we're rapidly falling into debt from all that rebuilding 8 years back."
"Speaking of which some of those buildings are staring to fall apart due to being rushed to meet deadlines set within the month they were started."
"Social darwinism is on the rise and people are becoming more complacent that ever before due to heroes applying bandaid solutions on decade long, deeply ingrained problems."
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"All so the average person doesn't have to think about what's festering beneath society's floorboards, so thank you Safety Commission. Here's your star of positivity ⭐️." - Some random anti-hero civilian
So much for greatest heroes, huh.
_______________________________________
UPDATE 2:
A dark thought I just had, is that the main reason Izuku killed Tomura was because Tomura broke the rule of "Forgiving Your Abusers makes you Good".
When Tomura refused to relinquish his hatred, when he stood his ground, that is when Midoriya decided he had to die. If not to "stop" him, then to preserve Midoriya's perception of the world .
Shigaraki + The LOV by their very ideals went against everything Midoriya has had beat into him by Bakugo and Aldera over the years.
Makes me wonder how'd he react to a person refusing to forgive their abuser. If he interacted with Natsuo or Rei, I could see that delving into a complete mess.
Now that I think about it, The Midoriya we know now, he would have never tried to hold onto Eri back when they first met.
Ironically, he became what he named himself after, a Deku. A puppet attached to thorns of liquid gold, glistening and burning hot.
A slave to his own biases and belief system, now trapped in a stage of his minds own making.
First bound by his past, then by legacy and finally, now by his own hand.
木���.
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simplyreveries · 10 months ago
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Can I request Lilia, Malleus, and Ortho (platonic for Ortho obviously) x a reader who puts on an act of being a “perfect girl” and always happy but in reality is quite depressed (in the sense where it feels like where their feelings should be is just an empty slot.)? Not forcing you to do this of course ^^
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lilia vanrouge
he would lightly jest and tease you all the time— as he can see right through you and your attitude. lilia is definitely someone who you can easily allow yourself to let loose and be more of yourself around him. he always pops up randomly and finds you, usually its surprising and he’ll be doing it some strange way hanging from a ceiling giving you some mischievous smile aha and ask “what's with the sorrowful mood, dear?” despite not showing it, he just has that sense.
you can deny it with a smile all you want but it's nearly impossible to hide anything from this guy. he only shakes his head with a smile at your persistence. thinks your attempts are silly but he wont keep on pushing, he usually prompts to doing things that will make you more comfortable to drop the whole act— he does it in a fun but loving way. he will make it his ultimate goal to make it feel like you can at least tell him anything!
and the time you finally decide to feel more okay sharing how you really feel, he’ll smile slightly even, in a more comforting and sweet way that you're opening up to him. he’ll consider himself quite special. “oh love, that wasn't so difficult was it…?” he’ll let you let out your feelings and emotions however long you want (he’ll tell you he’ll spend the whole night by your side comforting you if he has to and honestly you have to shut that down because he wasn't joking.)
malleus draconia
whenever you and him had your nightly chats outside ramshackle during the cold nights he had always caught some glimpse of you getting tired and stressed with your current situation and letting your act slip— seeing more of what the real you is. he’ll tilt his head slightly, looking down at you and listening quite intently. he does try to give his own advice to help alleviate your troubles.
he would never point out how different you seem when talking to him at night in the privacy of the two of you— in comparison to the bright and confident person you seem to portray yourself as to always be when he sees during the day when you're out and with the others like ace and deuce. he just silently watches and continues to listen and talk to you. he doesn't fully understand you at first, but he wants you to be happy.
malleus is someone you really can lean on… like literally. you could be sitting or standing next to him and feel like its hard and want to lean against him and he will always welcome you to. he loves it if anything, he’ll place a hand on the small of your back or the side of your head in a comforting manner and remind you “youre okay, dearest”
ortho shroud
may have accidentally exposed you once when he was “scanning” once and reading your mood and he asked you why you were so upset? he seemed genuinely concerned though and listed off something you can do to “improve your mood easily!” he's just trying to look out for you haha. he doesn't fully understand yet that you're trying to pretend to be someone you're not.
ortho is used to having to push his brother a little when it comes to being less of a recluse and trying to help him out— he’ll help you too, if you’ll let him. I feel like because he doesn't fully see it it'd take him actually catching you letting yourself slip when no one is around. since then, he would go out of his way to see you daily at school during the day and try to at least cheer you up.
he does feel like someone you genuinely can talk to despite not necessarily being human himself he can be as understanding as he can be with the knowledge he knows. and like i said he’s used to idia’s withdrawn and depressed behavior at times as well. you'll just always seem to have him find you somewhere and his energy makes it hard to really seem sad. he care's a lot about his friends!
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carlyraejepsans · 5 months ago
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UTY!Flowey, "lore" and how to criticize a fan prequel without being an insufferable pedantic, a guide by Biscia.
(for my muskless fellows, here's a transcript of my thread on Undertale Yellow that I posted on Twitter. enjoy!)
There's this really frustrating attitude in fan spaces i like to call "lorepilling" where people are substantially more concerned with encyclopedic knowledge of details & minutiae (so called "lore") in place of full-text thematic/narrative analysis as if the two are mutually interchangeable.
It's especially common in large franchises and story heavy videogames, and it's like... Are You Treating This Piece Of Art Like A Trivia Battle Or Are You Treating It Like A Story
This is coming from a person who is also deeply autistic about UTDR trivia btw, I'm just saying that when it comes to transformative *stories*, depending on the impact it has on character, themes, and narrative structure... lore is expendable.
Ultimately this is why most of the UTY criticism i see (on twitter specifically) falls flat. What does it matter if "lore" means Flowey couldn't chronologically be there when the justice human fell, as long as the game narratively justified his presence in the story in a compelling way?
The real criticism, in the end, is that it didn't.
He's a plot central, main cast character from the canon returning in a cast of mostly OCs and what does he have to show for it? An admittedly sick boss battle in 1/3 endings, sure but... not much else. He has no significant "presence" in the story, no tie, interaction, or even just... an opinion on the rest of the cast. Which is a huge miss when Flowey's meta role is to be Thee completionist player mirror. He's the OG lorepilled UT fan! He's an opinionated little shit!
This isn't to say that UTY *didn't* engage w/ his metanarrative. When me and @a-town-called-hometown first started playing the game (we were both skeptical of Flowey's inclusion), he immediately said "It would be really cool if they made it so this has been going on for a while and Clover has no idea". Which is precisely what the game did in the neutral ending, and what I will openly say was the most well written & well executed part of this game's story...
...a part we almost didn't see, because the pacifist ending disappointed us so much we lost all will to replay.
To put it in the words of my friend Mel @clowwwnbytes, there's a deafening hollowness to UTY Flowey's motivations & core principles where his guilt towards Chara—and resulting black and white thinking—should be. You're telling me Mr Kill-or-be-killed, "sacrificing yourself to do the right thing is stupid", would stand there after 1000s of failed attempts to make Clover survive, look on as they make the same mistake Asriel he did, and fondly call them friend? Cue the guitar, roll the credits?
He would lose it. Oh my god he would lose his goddamn mind, he would throw the nastiest temper tantrum in the world. Are you serious? How dare you. How DARE you. All this effort, all my patience, and you just let yourself DIE for a few worthless idiots? I should've let you ROT!
*clears throat* sorry got a bit too into character. as i was saying.
I can understand a UT prequel wanting to distance itself from the canon Chara storyline in order to form its own identity, but then turning around and choosing Insane About Chara The Character™ for a sidekick is... far from optimal. In the end, Flowey comes across as underutilized and inconsistent, with a whole lot of wasted potential.
This is an issue I have with UTY's character writing (original AND returning) and story structure as a whole. Lots of inconsistent character arcs, tonal dissonance, overuse of situational sadness... it's an amateurish work, after all, and you can feel it. There's no shame in that.
(Though, there ARE some issues that i take more seriously with its writing, especially when it comes to its two main female characters—Ceroba's lack of narrative agency and depth borders on misogynistic writing imo. But that's a topic for another day)
Over all, UTY was an incredible piece of collaborative transformative work, with gorgeous art and a genuinely incredible OST, which... would have benefited from more experienced writers. But hey, you can only ever learn by trying!
For all it could've been a better story, it certainly did not fail to entertain: both when my friend was playing it, and after in our many discussions of its writing, its faults and how it could've been improved (royal scientist!ceroba character fix you will always be famous. to ME!)
I'm sure this project served as an incredible source of experience for the developers: as individual creators AND as a team. I look forward to their future projects!
but also if i have to see another person say UTY is better than Undertale i might turn into The Jonker.
end of the essay! really couldn't stand any of the pedantic ""criticism"" I'd seen of this fangame so far, so i had to say my piece as someone more versed in analysis. happy to elaborate on anything in the replies or in my inbox!
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loveindefinitely · 11 months ago
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O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.
I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.
I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.
Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.
Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day
-🐭
you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.
warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)
because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.
cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.
ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.
but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.
that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.
and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.
so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.
when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.
rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.
gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.
and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.
he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.
price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.
then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.
and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.
he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.
say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.
and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.
you'd been in for a long week.
this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah
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sapphicantics · 5 months ago
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Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter One
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Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader
Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.
Chapter word count: 1.7k
Contents: vaping, underage drinking, mentions of weed, threats of violence, mentions of broken bones, shitty comebacks - I think that’s it, lemme know if I missed any
Note: Alright, I’m finally here with the first official chapter of Same Coin. Now I don’t know how often updates are gonna be for this fic but they will be coming, I’ve got so many ideas for it.
Intro - Chapter 2
— — — —
Menace is a bit of a crazy term to use to describe someone who sticks up for themself, but this is high school and everyone loves to exaggerate, especially boys with fragile egos who can’t stand the school knowing they got their asses kicked by a girl.
And when the girl is you — a girl who keeps to herself and minds her own fucking business like people should do any-fucking-way — oh, there’s bound to be countless descriptors thrown onto you to help rebuild their fragile masculinity.
Volatile, temperamental, crazy, psycho just to name a few.
You’re not sure how those are supposed to rebuild their masculinity, especially when you can just kick their asses and knock it right back down again. Despite those seemingly negative connotations that come with your new title, it does, admittedly, have a rather nice ring to it.
Anyways, nice ring or not, negative connotations or not, title or not, you’ve got far more important things to focus on instead.
Like why the fuck Charlie Hudson is in front of you right now.
It’s lunch and you’re under the bleachers with a strawberry flavored vape pen in hand. You take a hit and blow a cloud of smoke past your lips, raising a brow at him.
He doesn’t speak for a while probably assuming you’ll do so first, but you just take more hits from your vape and continue to stare at him. He approached you, he came over here to you, he’s interrupting your time so he must want something from you and he either tells you on his own or he doesn’t tell you at all. It makes no difference to you, but you’re definitely not gonna ask what he wants.
It’s only when you check your watch does he remember he’s on a time crunch and finally opens his mouth to speak. “I’m having a party tonight. I was thinking you could swing by for a bit.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Well, it’s gonna be a whole thing, you know?” No you don’t know, and that really doesn’t answer the question on why he’s inviting you or why he thinks you’d even want to go, but thankfully he continues. “Real big, real fun, real cool…” he reaches into his pocket, pulling his hand out and passing some cash over to you. “…really need someone to bring the Mary Jane.”
You tilt your head at him, looking between him and the cash before sliding your vape into your jacket pocket. You pluck the cash from his hands and flick through the stack. There’s a couple thousand dollars here — broken up into smaller bills because why not — a little over a thousand by your count, sixteen hundred to be exact, which is far more than you usually charge to supply a party, but if the rich boy wants to give you all his money then you’re not gonna stop him.
Perhaps, this might make you a thief to some, but really, what’s one more negative connotation added to your name?
You slip the cash in your pocket and nod. “I’ll be there at ten.”
He flashes you a smile as you walk past him and brush your shoulder against his. There’s no force behind it — okay there’s a little force behind it, not a lot though — but still he flinches at the pressure and you don’t miss the way he reaches up to rub at his shoulder out of your peripherals.
That reminds you that you need to make a few things clear. Well, one thing, specifically.
“Oh, and Charles?” He hates that name, thinks it makes him seem like an old man and what better way to ensure he knows you’re serious than calling him by his government. He seems to understand this as his eyes snap to yours and he tenses. “If North Shore wants a chance at making it to state this year, it’d be in your best interest to ensure your brother is on his best behavior tonight. Unless, of course, Lucas wants more broken bones. You got me?”
The bell rings behind you then, a seemingly ominous warning to the boy whose face is now alight with fear. You don’t bother waiting on a response, you know he’ll obey your wishes. You smirk and turn on your heels, disappearing into the school.
— — — —
You show up at 9:45.
Fifteen minutes before the agreed upon time, a rather gracious compromise in your opinion.
One you’re already starting to regret as you walk into the house.
The music is blasting so loud you can barely hear yourself think. The house stinks of sweat from the hundreds of people crowded around each other, dancing, singing, laughing, and making out.
Everyone is drunk — some way more wasted than others — but somehow they all seem to sense your presence and part for you like the Red Sea. Some of them even turn their heads to see if it’s really you before quickly looking away and whispering to their friends.
You roll your eyes at that and Charlie takes this moment to finally make his appearance, trudging his way out of the kitchen. He makes a detour once he spots you and after a quick greeting, he leads you out to the backyard. “You got the stuff?”
“What a stupid question,” you scoff. “You think I’d take your money and then show up to this party empty handed with this duffle just for fun?”
You shrug the bag off and place it on the ground between the two of you, unzipping it as you do so. Inside is a bunch of pre-rolled joints and plenty of bags of weed for those who prefer to use a bong. There’s some rolling papers in there so people can roll their own joints, but you’re pretty sure if anyone does rolls their own joints tonight they are not using the weed you bought — because they don’t trust you so they won’t trust the weed you bought, and also no one goes to a party without their own weed. On the off chance that they do use yours, however, the necessary supplies are there.
Charlie whistles at the haul, eyes wide, clearly not having expected this much from you, but that’s not really surprising.
“Damn, I knew you were a pothead but that’s pathetic even for you.”
It is surprising, however, that Charlie took time out of his day to summon an actual demon from hell to this party.
You say this out loud. On purpose. Because it’s your mouth and you’ll say whatever you want.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
You turn your head to see none other than the devil herself, Regina George, glaring at you.
“You fucking heard me, Regina. You’re a demon and you should go crawl back into whatever fiery pit of hell you came out of.”
“Yikes, someone’s feeling dramatic today. But if I left, who would teach you how to dress?”
You chuckle and shove your hands into your pants pockets. “Rather presumptuous of you to assume I would want fashion advice from someone who looks like a copy and paste Barbie doll.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s adorable that you think your opinion matters-,”
You hold your hand up to stop any further comments and start talking over Regina, effectively cutting her off and shutting her up. “I’m so glad you said that because your opinion does not matter at all, not to me especially when I didn’t even ask, and acting like it does is only going to do you a disservice so I’m gonna go ahead and let you know - I don’t care and you can keep the rest of your shitty opinions to yourself.”
Regina scowls and steps into your personal space, pointing her finger at you, inches away from jabbing into your skin. She’s towering over you slightly and now that she’s so close, you have to tilt your head up to hold eye contact with her. “Listen here you little bitch-,”
For the second time in less than a minute, you cut Regina off, smirking at the little vein that bulges on her forehead. “No, I don’t think I will, actually.”
Regina is about to blow. You can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders are so tense, and if you can see it so can anyone else in the vicinity. You lean closer, lowering your voice to a whisper so only she can hear. “Be honest, are you just mad this shirt got to come out of the closet, and you didn’t?”
Regina’s hands are fast.
SMACK!
But so are yours.
You catch her wrist in your hand before her open palm can collide with your cheek, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the backyard. A hush falls around those outside and you feel dozens of eyes lock on the two of you.
Regina tries to pull her hand away and you tighten your grip in response - not enough to leave marks or to cause pain, just enough so she’s forced to stay where she is.
She glares at you, her eyes alight with fury and jaw tense. The air crackles with the intensity of her anger, and you can feel the heat of her rage radiating towards you. But there’s no backing down now.
“Enough, Regina!” you snap, your voice firm and unyielding. “This isn’t the time or place for this!”
Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems like she might explode again. But you hold your ground, your own anger flaring to match hers.
“We’re not doing this,” you continue, your tone brooking no argument. “Not here, not now.”
She looks ready to argue, but you cut her off, stepping forward with a fierce determination. “Back off, Regina. We’ll settle this later.”
The tension hangs thick in the air, but she finally takes a step back and you release her, her jaw still clenched. Without waiting for her to respond, you turn on your heel and stride away, your heart pounding with the adrenaline of the confrontation.
You venture inside and slip into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. You down it in one go and grab another one for the road before leaving out the front door.
It’s gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.
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moonswolfie · 5 months ago
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Kenma, suna, and tsukishima with a gf that loves to baby them? Like she loves dressing them up, dotes on them, and acts liek their parent sometimes? Thanx!
HELLO THERE EVERYONE
i return with a request and a new theme 😏 thank u so much for requesting🩵 i know i just changed my theme but i'm already making pinterest boards for new themes ITS JUST SO FUN!
in case you couldn't tell the reader is fem!
ALSO SUMMER HOLIDAYS!?!??! Its nice to finally be free...
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𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Tsukishima Kei
"I'm worried about you, you know." you placed your head in your hands, leaning your elbows on the table. "Really, it should be the other way around. You don't know this even though it should be basic knowledge." Tsukishima sighed, ready to go over the biology lesson with you for the hundreth time already.
"Do you get enough sleep? Your eyebags are looking a little big lately. Do you eat enough? You look stressed. You always tell me you're fine, but-"
"I'm fine." Tsukishima brushed you off, looking back at the notebook.
"What are you pouting like a toddler for?" when he looked back up at you, he was seriously baffled by the similarity of your face to a little kid who got refused to eat candy. Though, maybe, just maybe, he finds it kind of cute. Maybe.
"We're done studying." you got up from the dining table, placing your hands on your hips. "You do realise I'm only doing this because you asked, right? And you're the one still struggling with this subject, last time I checked." he furrowed his brows slightly.
"I won't be able to study in peace until I see you sleeping peacefully in bed after a good meal. We can start with the sleep and I'll cook something later!" you were determined to take care of him now. Sometimes your boyfriend's aloof attitude towards his well being and towards everything in general makes you worry. Whenever he replies with a simple "I'm fine" you must dote on him for a bit. That's the rule.
It looked like he was weighing his choices for a brief moment before sighing and saying "Fine, just don't come crying when you fail this test tommorow."
"Yaaaay, I'll be up in your room, ready to tuck you in!" you pecked his lips, spun around on your heels and ran upstairs to his room.
Tsukishima sighed, closing his notebook. When he looked to the doorway, his mom was standing there and smiling at him. He immediately tensed up, worrying about just how much of your conversation she heard.
"You know, your girlfriend would make a good mom. I'm just saying." Tsukishima's mom smiled at her son cheekily. He hid his face, not moving for a good thirty seconds before practically sprinting to his room.
He never did tell you why he looked so red upon arriving in his room.
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Suna Rintaro
"Is all of this really neccessary?" Suna raised one of his perfect brows when you placed another shirt in his arms. You took him out for a shopping trip today. Your shopping trips always end with him walking out the mall with a whole new closet instead of the other way around.
He always insists that he doesn't need new clothes or much of anything, but you always end up convincing him into a mall trip. You spoil him rotten, to be honest. Not that he minds.
"Yeah, how else am I going to keep you well-dressed?" you urged him to the dressing room just so you can clap excitedly at every outfit he puts on and models for you. He already looks like one, so why not take advantage of that, right?
"Okay, whatever you say, babe." Suna rolled his eyes playfully and walked into the changing room. You were squealing excitedly at each outfit he appeared in from behind the curtain like a crazy fangirl.
He didn't seem too enthusiastic about some of the outfits which made you sad but for the most part, you had loads of fun. He was taking a while with the last outfit, though. And you were probably overreacting, but you got worried.
You just can't help but worry for your boyfriend sometimes, even if it is unwarranted. It's kind of your thing. One time he accidentally cut his finger and you spent every moment together with him pressing get better kisses on it. You made sure he changed the bandaid every day, too. You were comically worried about him being able to attend volleyball practice. And that's just one of the examples.
So you pulled back the curtain.
"A little privacy, please?" Your boyfriend was standing in the changing room in all of his shirtless glory. You never really thought about it until now, but Suna is fit. You suppose it makes sense, considering he plays volleyball, but still. He was smiling at you cheekily, probably amused by how dumbfounded you look right now.
"I... um, it's... I was just worried about you! And put your shirt back on, you'll catch a cold!" You don't think you've ever closed a curtain as fast before.
You could hear Suna laugh to himself behind the curtain. "Sure, sure, mom. But I think you were just trying to be a little sneaky."
Well, you still ended up spoiling your boyfriend with new clothes that day, but you ended up with an accidental gift of your own, too. Maybe being a worrywart isn't that bad sometimes.
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Kozume Kenma
"Um, I can eat on my own..." Kenma gently pushed away your hand, which was holding food to his mouth.
"Oh, we both know you wouldn't eat at all if I didn't hand feed you. You seriously need to lay off the videogames sometimes." You playfully rolled your eyes, putting the piece of food back to his mouth. He sighed with exasperation and begrudgingly ate the piece of food.
"And besides, you know how much I love spoiling you. I can't resist when you're just... too cute." you pulled on his cheek like an overly excited grandma.
The thing about Kenma is, he hates that he likes being babied by you. When his mom used to do it, he found it overbearing and annoying, but when you hand feed him, it kind of feels comforting. Then again though, he can't focus on the videogame because of that. So that's why he hates it.
"I could go without the... ugh." Kenma was just about to beat the level, but you placing another piece of food in front of his face distracted him for just a moment, which made him get a game over.
"Oh..." you stared at the game over screen, suddenly feeling bad for being a distraction. You just can't help but want to baby him whenever you're with him. He doesn't exactly make it hard for you with the way he blushes and gets all embarrased every single time.
"Well then, I was just thinking you played enough videogames today. I propose we do something else." you pulled on Kenma's arm and he protested by giving you one of his iconic scowls.
"You'll get wrinkles if you frown too much." you reminded him with a gentle smile. He mumbled something you couldn't quite catch under his breath and reached for the controller.
"Oh no. No you don't." you tackled Kenma before he could do anything else. You know, if he wasn't so damn flustered right now, he would have been seriously mad. But when you smile at him like that, it's like his anger decides to get up and leave.
"Would you... umm, mind getting off me?" he was worried that he might overheat like his dad's poor laptop which he forced to run videogames far beyond its capabilities. Now he feels bad for that old thing.
"Only if you promise that we go for a little walk outside." he grumbled at first but ended up agreeing after you gave him a little kiss on the cheek as encouragement.
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macsimagines · 1 year ago
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I’m so sorry that you’re getting hate. and I’ll make sure to reblog your works more to make sure you feel the appreciation you deserve!
but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask for a request! Headcannons with Izana, Mikey, and Kisaki that have a photo of their darling on there desk, but when their secretary comes in to the office to hand them paperwork but knock down the photo in the process on purpose. the secretary obviously has a distaste for you being their lover so how would they react to it?
I love a jealous bitch. You just make things a little more interesting for Darling and their man. also this borders on a hyper specific scenario and i hate those so please if you have a fic idea try writing it yourself
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, NSFW, JEALOUSY, TOXIC BEHAVIOR, MURDER MENTION, NSFW
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Yandere!Izana Kurokawa
Let that bitch secretary of his stick around because he knows she makes you insecure. No joke, he really does let her act out how she wants because he wants to keep you in check.
Izana will allow her to flirt with him in front of you, maybe even give you some attitude and practically lets her roam around his office flaunting her goods because he wants you to feel bothered and belittled.
He's basically saying; "Look at what I can have and feel blessed I still choose you." without ever saying it.
But he knows he's pushing it and never lets her do anything further than those few things. In fact he treats very coldly if he's alone with her. He only goes out of his way to be nice when you're watching.
Truth is, he can't stand her. Hates her perfume, hates the way she looks, hates the way she speaks. She's only good for one things and that's keeping you in line he doesn't need or want her for anything else.
Then one day, she got cocky, one day she really fucked up. "Oops, knocked over your wife's picture. But it's fine sir, you don't really want to be looking at her when you have me right~?"
After that you never see her at the office again. Her replacement is actually a man hired by Kakucho, who went out of his way to find a proper replacement because he pitied you.
"My old secretary? She got too comfortable. I don't need an annoying woman like that. Now come over here and thank me for my kindness."
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Yandere!Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)
Hates that bitch but can't get rid of her. Apparently everyone in the office has had a taste and his underlings convince him that's good for morale. Also she does her work well enough and he can ignore her.
He kidnapped you, robbed you of all your autonomy. He didn't go through all that trouble to just have some cheap whore when he already has you.
But then you keep trying to hold out on him, you're not breaking even though he loves you and on the bad advice of probably Sanzu he tries to use her to make you jealous.
Lets her flirt and even flirts back in front of you, just because he wants to know you still care. At one point you loved him, maybe its still there?
But you're a brick wall, maybe even amused by his antics. And he just goes back to despising her, because she's not you. Not your hair, not your smile, not your smell. She's fucking wrong wrong wrong wrong.
The unfortunate thing is that she's gotten ballsy. She thinks she has a shot, even though he was just trying to use her to get at you. This bitch actually defiled your picture by pushing it out of the way and Mikey...
He sees red. He doesn't like hitting women, maybe that was just the little bit of honor left in him, but he can kill this pig with his bare hands and not even flinch.
Mikey doesn't hear her screams, her begs or even her sorrys when its all said and done. Just a bloody pummled mess on the floor.
Maybe she can be good for something because he calls you into his office and makes you watch his men clean up her corpse and get rid of it. Just as a reminder of how much he loves. And what he's still capable of.
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Yandere!Kisaki Tetta
He hates her. You're his whole world and perfect Darling. He showers you every day in affection that he only gives to you and she thinks she has a place?
Kisaki had hired her as a favor to business partner. His eldest daughter. And to keep good morale and images with this other company he gave her a job.
Don't worry, he was going to bleed that company dry and toss her out on her ass when he was done ruining her family's name. She was just a pawn, but you are everything.
But all that doesn't make her obvious attempts at winning him over any easier. Her father probably had sent her to seduce him and probably take your place as his new wife.
The thought makes him want to puke. As if that ugly cow has anything on you, the reason he lives and breaths and conquers the very business world.
You don't even know about the games this Secretary is playing because he doesn't need you to worry you're perfect pretty head about it. This is his problem and he will handle it when the time comes.
But that happens sooner than later when she DEFILES your image by accidentally knocking your photo into the trash. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. I was only putting it where I thought it belonged~"
Well Kisaki was a patient man, but if it was time for action... Her father's company is destroyed, her family name ruined with scandal and defamation, and her corpse was somewhere floating all alone in the ocean.
And you were at home with Kisaki suddenly planning a surprise vacation. "You deserve it, Honey. I just want to spend some time with you."
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ttrpg-smash-pass-vs · 7 months ago
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Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:
I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.
Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.
Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.
Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.
There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.
And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.
The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.
The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.
The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.
I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.
So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.
It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.
I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head for the base roots. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".
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saiintvalentiine · 2 months ago
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Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot. Part 2 now out!
notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy. divider from here.
word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.
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Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.
Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.
Bleh.
“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”
“Did you know?” Parrot asks.
Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.
“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”
Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.
“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.
[_Kenadian_]: where are you?
“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”
[_Kenadian_]: wifies
[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you
“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”
[_Kenadian_]: wato
[Wato1876]: Hey!
[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies
[Wato1876]: No?
[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?
[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages
[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/
[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him
[_Kenadian_]: thx
“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.
“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”
“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”
“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.
“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”
“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.
The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.
“So you did know!”
“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”
“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”
“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”
[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.
[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.
Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.
“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.
“No,” Parrot replies.
“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.
“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.
“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.
“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”
Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.
[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon
[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?
“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”
Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.
“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”
Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.
“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”
“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”
“He never says anything to me, he never—”
“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”
Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .
“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”
Ken pulls at his roots.
“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”
Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.
“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”
“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”
Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.
“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”
“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”
“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”
“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.
“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.
“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”
“Fine.”
Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.
“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.
“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.
“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.
The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.
[Parrotx2]: Ken
[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: not to you
[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies
[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts
[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy
[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing
[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him
[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do
[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up
[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal
[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy
[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared
[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone
[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.
[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general
[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch
[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways
[Parrotx2]: not the point
[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status
[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received
[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?
[Parrotx2]: he has every right
[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me
[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me
[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that
[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly
[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him
[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him
[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met
[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried
[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point
[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier
[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?
“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.
“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.
[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.
[Parrotx2]: sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now
[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you
[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow
“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”
[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows
[_Kenadian_]: just
[_Kenadian_]: give him some space
[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you
[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny
[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry
“Ken!!”
[Parrotx2]: I
[Parrotx2]: what?
[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy
[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that
[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do
[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe
[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.
[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe
“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.
“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”
“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.
“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”
Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.
“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”
Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.
Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.
“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 
“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.
“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 
Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.
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reysdriver · 2 years ago
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Wife | S.B.
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(part 1 to this fic) You and Sirius had been married in a wedding arranged by your pureblood parents, and he's the only one you think to go to after running away — sirius x fem!pureblood!reader hurt/comfort
warnings: abusive families (for both reader and Sirius), forced marriage, abuse, mentions of injury, angst
words: 2k
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A frown sat still across your face while your mother tightly strung up the thin braids in your hair with bobby pins. You held back winces every time the metal poked into your already-pained scalp.
She fixed the last braid into the hairdo, then stood in front of you, judging coldly.
"Am I presentable, Mother?" You asked, snark laced in every word.
Normally, you would never dare speak to a relative like this, but today was your wedding day. Your bags were already packed for school in a week, so you wouldn't face her for a while. And, in two years, you were to graduate from Hogwarts and move in with the Blacks, so you really had nothing to lose when it came to your awful pureblood family.
"This attitude is exactly why your marriage prospects were so slim." She tells you. 
They were slim, and your family had warned you several times while arranging the marriage that you would have to be with him forever. They said a divorce would be twice as shameful for your family name since you wouldn't be able to find a new husband. There was a limited dating pool for sacred twenty eight Gryffindor teens who were openly opposed to their family values. 
You tried not to feel upset at the memory of all those times your family had called you a disgrace, claiming that's why you and Sirius Black were perfect for eachother. 
"Well, there's nothing else we can do before the wedding, we should be on our way to the ceremony as soon as possible." Your mother announced curtly. 
You stood up, your giant wedding dress feeling heavier than ever. You placed the veil over your face, the thin material clouding your vision slightly. 
There was no turning back now. There was never any turning back since you had little say in the whole matter, but now there was really no escape. 
Your mother surveyed your look one more time, lacking any visible emotion that should be present on one's daughter's wedding day.
"Don't slouch or speak without being spoken to. Don't embarrass our family name." She ordered.
Although you were young and had no intentions of really being married, you were counting down the days until you would be away from your family.
You said nothing in return as you started to walk towards the door. Your father was standing just outside, ready to walk you down the aisle.
He didn't say anything to you that wasn't already said by your mother, which made you want to roll your eyes harder than anything that day.
Once you started walking down the carpeted aisle, you felt as if all sound flushed from the room. It wasn't that the sounds had really stopped, it was just that you were so nervous, you couldn't process any noise.
Sirius looked handsome, to say the least. You felt slightly guilty for focusing on his looks, but you two were getting married. You were in the same classes at school and you had caught yourself gazing at him in the common room a few times, but never thought about marrying him before your parents set it up.
Your father let go of your arm, and you stepped up to the altar, parallel to Sirius. You looked into his captivating eyes and accepted your fate.
✦✧✦✧✦
Even though you were married, you barely spoke to Sirius. A few words during classes or in the common room, but that was it. You both thought it was best to push each other away and pretend everything was normal for as long as you could. A kiss at the wedding and a long conversation when you were together in his room after the wedding was all that had happened, and it was how you wanted to keep things for the time being. 
Sirius was nowhere near the husband your parents had always wanted for you, but you were at a loss. You tried one last time to think of solutions as you stood on the Potters' porch. You knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. 
An older woman came to the door; you knew it was James' mother since you had seen her on Platform 9 ¾ several times before. She looked shocked at your appearance, and you couldn't blame her. Your eyes red and exhausted, multiple cuts on your face, and blotchy skin caused by a mix of snow and crying. 
"Is Sirius here?" You asked with a sob before she could say anything. 
"Oh dear, come inside, love. Quickly, you look like you've just been dragged here from across the country." The woman placed a hand on your shoulder, ushering you inside her house. 
You let out another sob and more tears started falling down your face the moment she closed the door and you felt the house's heat. "I'm sorry." You mumbled. 
"Don't be sorry, darling. Just come with me so I can make you a nice cup of hot tea." 
While she walked you to the kitchen, she had introduced herself formally. She also recognised you, knowing your name and likely more about your family. It was rare for a person of pureblood status to not recognise you, so you weren't fazed by it. 
You were sitting at her kitchen table, and she handed you a steaming teacup. You took a sip, ignoring how painfully hot it was against your tongue and your throat. 
"Thank you." You sniffled, taking another scalding sip. "I don't mean to burden you, I just need to see Sirius. Please tell me he's here."
"He is, yes. May I ask why you need to see him?" She asked, standing up and walking towards a set of stairs. 
You looked down shamefully, almost embarrassed to admit it. 
"I'm his wife."
Euphemia's eyes widened, and although she had been nothing but sweet to you, you were afraid she was judging. You hoped she would understand as a fellow pureblood, but you knew that your families were vastly different and she likely chose her husband for love. 
She opened her mouth, and you half-expected her to string insults at you and your family. Instead, she looked to the top of the stairs and called for Sirius. "There's a girl here who's asking for you." 
You heard a laugh from James and Sirius, followed by two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. When they reached Euphemia, she directed Sirius to you, telling him 'your wife is in the kitchen'. 
Sirius walked into the room, and he looked heartbroken to see you. It took just barely a glance for him to understand what was happening. You were going through the same thing he was just a year ago. 
Your head dropped, once again feeling a needless feeling of shame overtake you. 
"I'm sorry." You mumbled as he walked towards you. You weren't quite expecting him to embrace you in a tight hug, but he did, and you weren't going to push him away. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I just had to get away from them. I didn't know where else to go." 
He placed a gentle kiss on your hairline as he rubbed your back. "Don't be sorry, love. I understand. You made the right decision to come here."
He unwrapped his arms from around your torso and looked at your shaking figure. You could see he pitied you, and that felt awful. You had been raised to never let anyone take pity on you. 
Euphemia stood at the other side of the room with a raised eyebrow. "Sirius Black, why didn't you say anything about being married?"
He turned to her, about to explain when you rushed to his defence. "It's not his fault, Mrs. Potter. We both just wanted to pretend it never happened for as long as possible. That was a decision we both made right away."
"We don't wear the rings at school, and we barely even talk to each other." He added. 
"Well, that's a problem." Euphemia told him. "If you had shown you cared about this poor girl, maybe she could have escaped her family before it escalated to this! You could have taken her with you when you first came here."
Neither you or Sirius were going to argue with the woman. She walked towards you with concern in her eyes, then stopped to examine you just as Sirius had done a few seconds previous. 
"We need to get you cleaned up, healed in any way we can, and into some warm clothes. You can stay for as long as you'd like."
You didn't want the family to go through any trouble for you. "No, I don't want to be a burden."
"Stop that, darling. You should stay here, we'll be more than happy to give you anything you need. And what you need first is to get healed, come with me. I can fix you up just fine."
You stood up, ready to go wherever she wanted to take you, but Sirius placed a gentle hand on your wrist that made you shift your attention to him. 
"I can take care of her, Effie." He told her. 
"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. As much as you want to help, this is important and needs to be taken care of by someone with experience."
"I do have experience. I was in her place just a year ago. I know exactly what she's going through." 
His hand kept its place on your wrist, but he loosened his grip. His eyes were soft and gentle. Both you and Euphemia could tell her really did want to help. He was almost pleading silently, and who were you to decline your husband of that?
Before you could accept his offer, Euphemia spoke up for you, not willing to argue any more as long as it helped you. 
"Alright. I'll get James to make up a guest room for you, dear."
She walked ahead, instructing James to prepare a place for you to sleep while you and Sirius stayed back on the main floor. 
Breaking the tense silence between you, Sirius apologised. "I'm sorry, she's right, I knew what your family was like and I left you there. I should have cared for you." 
"Don't be sorry. You didn't need to do anything, I wasn't your responsibility."
"You're my wife." He said, soft desperation soaking that last word. "And I'm your husband."
"Sirius, we're strangers, classmates at best. We don't even speak at school, let alone invite each other to run away to safety together. Our laundry may have been mixed up before, but other than accidentally sharing ties, we're not close at all."
"I wish we could be. I always have." 
You were shocked by the confession. For practically being strangers, that was quite an admittance of feelings. You could already feel the tears coming back to your eyes and you didn't quite know why they were so insistent on falling now. 
He continued on. "I was too proud to admit it before. All because you were like me and our families chose us for each other. I've always watched you read in the common room and tried to muster up whatever I needed to ask you to be partners in class, but I was just so focused on going against my family to get close to you. I'm sorry." 
"Again, you don't need to be sorry." You said. You weren't sure that was true, but you had thought the exact same thing about him a few times throughout the years, so you couldn't blame him at all. "I just want to go upstairs, and we can talk more later."
"Okay, let's get you fixed up, then."
He gave you another sweet kiss on the forehead, then he wrapped his arm around you while you walked upstairs together. 
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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago
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i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike
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Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.
Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader
Word Count | 4.4K
Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.
Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.
Divider by @saradika
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 
It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 
Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 
You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 
“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 
“No, why?” 
“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 
And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 
“They’re delicious.” 
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 
“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 
“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 
You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 
“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 
You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 
“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”
He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 
“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 
“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 
“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 
You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 
“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 
You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 
He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 
You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.
“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 
He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 
And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 
You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 
“Running away?” 
You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 
“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 
He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 
“If I have to.” You answer back. 
“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 
You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 
You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 
He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 
“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 
He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 
You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 
“You looking that sinful.” 
You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 
He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 
He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 
“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 
You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 
He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 
“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 
“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 
You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 
“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 
So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 
You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 
“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 
You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 
He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 
“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 
He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 
This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 
You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 
He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 
You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 
You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 
Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 
“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 
“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 
“Your mouth.” 
“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 
“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 
He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 
He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 
“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 
“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 
He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 
Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 
He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 
“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 
“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 
He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 
Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 
When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 
“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 
“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 
He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 
“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 
You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 
“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 
And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 
“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 
“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 
You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 
“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 
“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 
You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 
It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 
You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 
He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 
He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 
“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 
He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 
You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 
479 notes · View notes
calico-cheriies · 4 months ago
Text
Hideaway |Soshiro Hoshina x Reader Fanfic|
{Chapter Five}
{Masterlist}
{Hideaway Masterlist}
♥︎Taglist: @swivi
Warnings: slight suggestive material
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The upcoming days definitely made you paranoid, well how could you not be? You had gotten threatened when you were coming back from seeing Hoshina. You knew Hoshina must've thrown himself into his work because you hadn't seen him for a few days- well you two had a small conversation during the cafeteria but it was quickly interrupted by the fellow female officer, whom you've quickly come to learn that her name is Hayami.
Sure- she wasn't unfortunate looking; she was built and had that dominant personality that raptured all the other's officers attention. But ever since that awkward elevator ride you had been thinking about her words more and more, and it lit something up in you. You weren't going to back down-
Whatever was going on between you and Hoshina, you were going to figure it out. You had never felt so determined to push yourself out of your office, who knows what made you feel so competitive but that didn't matter now. You were slowly escalating up in the elevator, your hands were balled up into fists the more you thought about it. Everyone here was an adult, and you certainly weren't going to back down because Hayami was some officer. No- you also contributed and Hoshina could choose anyone he wanted. It's not like she could actually hurt you anyway, there was surveillance everywhere and people were always around. How could you be scared?
You were hyping yourself up, you could also learn to express yourself more and it seemed that Hoshina had a liking towards you. Yeah, maybe you had a chance- wait what? Chance for what?
"Ugh, I'm so dumb," you softly whined to yourself, how could something like this even cross your mind? You two weren't even dating and you had known each other for a few weeks. Though you were brought back to reality once the elevator dinged and it opened, greeting you with the sight of some people shuffling around. You blinked before stepping out and shoving your hands into the pockets of your coat, what were you going to do again?
Your pace was slow, no one turned to look at you since they were busy doing their own thing. To be fair- everyone was always on edge in case of an attack, yet here you were looking for a certain man. You muttered out an apology as you felt your shoulder bump into someone. You turned your head, your confidence slipping as you muttered out an apology.
"Hey! You're the... uh..." you heard the familiar voice of that one old man from the hospital wing. You glanced up and you wanted to burst out laughing from his strained expression. "Forensic pathologist," you finished for him, finally turning your whole body to look at him. He seemed to be around Captain Ashiro's age, how ironic.
"Yeah! That," he laughed out nervously, it seemed more out of embarrassment. "I guess that's what they call it, I'm Kafka Hibino," he introduced himself, and you offered a small smile. "Yeah I remember, the vice captain sure seems fond of you," you admitted, but you would understand why. He seemed like no threat at all, in fact, he didn't seem to carry a threatening or bold attitude.
"He does? What a relief," he seemed to stand up taller, his shoulders relaxing a bit at your words. "Are you looking for him right now? I think he was still bathing or something," he seemed to point behind him, "I can lead you to him-" he was starting to offer until you cut him off. "No! It's okay... I'll wait," your voice cracked at first, embarrassment flooding your senses. "Let's just talk... I guess it's a way to pass the time while I wait," you shifted in your spot, might as well get to know him while you're at it.
Plus it was better because you saw Hayami walking out with some other girls, and thankfully Kafka's larger frame seemed to cover you enough as they passed. What a relief...
Kafka didn't seem to mind, in fact, you found out he was only a little older than you. While you both took a seat, it was kind of awkward at first because you had no idea what he was like, but all that soon went out the window when he started to talk about his personal with his life before joining the third division. This friendship blossomed between the two of you.
He told you about his prior job which was cleaning up the aftermath of kaiju's attacks and disposing of them. You both bonded over some similar instances you both had, and yet there was a silent respect for each other. He also told
You of his goals- the way he wanted to fight beside Captain Ashiro's side because of a childhood promise.
It almost wanted to bring you to tears.
You shared some things as well, the way you fought through college and med school to be here. You told him about your struggles to put yourself out there- and the dreams you wanted so badly, to settle down.
You were about to speak on the topic of Hoshina, until you felt hands cover your eyes. Your figure flinching and your hands flying up to feel the hands that covered your eyes. "Did I keep ya waitin' long?" The familiar accent flooded your ears.
"Hoshina..." you shakily breathed out, your fingers gently prying his hands off and you tilted your head up to see those beautiful purple irises. "No, not too long. Kafka here kept me company," you were definitely going to drop into a puddle at the way his eyes gazed into yours.
It seemed like Kafka quickly got the hint that the two of you would probably appreciate some privacy. "Ah- uh, I can hear Someone calling for me!" He almost robotically moved up and walked off, the usual strained look on his face. That moment made you snort, but to Hoshina, it was lovely.
"Sorry, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything," you stood up from the little chair you were sitting in. You were slightly relieved to see the little area was clearing out, "Nah, plus I'm glad ya found me first. I was about to go to yer office," he did seem happier that you were slowly taking steps to come see him. "Oh! Well..." you glanced to the side for a moment, the little tingling feeling that flooded your chest made it unbearable.
"... I'm glad I came then, I'm always willing to do something for you," you truthfully answered. The corners of his mouth twitched, almost like as if he was wanting to smirk but he stopped himself.
Hoshina couldn't stop admiring you, it felt like every interaction with you was testing his patience. But this time he couldn't- as much as he tried to stop himself from taking things to far, he feared this would be the time he would break that barrier.
"Let's take this somewhere else," his hand slowly slid up to your back. His push was gentle yet urgent, you stumbled a bit forward but soon got used to the quick pace in which he pushed you in. The more you walked, the more the halls seemed to get empty. It was silent between the two of you, you swear you could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you stopped in front of a room- most likely his office.
No words were exchanged up until this point, you almost went to turn the knob on the door until you felt his chest pressing up against your back, his arm reaching outside you to open it for you. "There ya go," his voice seemed to have gotten lower- raspier even. The tension was driving you insane as you simply nodded and pushed through the door.
Maybe... maybe this would be as wholesome as the other times. You forgot entirely about the incident that was giving you anxiety and instead watched as Hoshina closed the door behind him. The both of you staring at each other, it was almost giving you this adrenaline rush at the way his eyes slightly opened up, his irises almost glaring into you like some predator watching its prey.
It was exciting.
"It's a nice office you have here," you swallowed away the lump that was lodged into your throat, your back turning to him as your fingers slid over the wooden desk. You heard his footsteps getting closer to you, his presence almost suffocating. "Eh, it's not as nice as having ya here," what a way to be bold, but Hoshina was not the kind of guy to tip toe around what he wants.
You stifled a small laugh, but it was mostly out of nervousness. "Hm? But you don't know that for sure," you fluttered your eyes for a moment, drinking in the image of how close he was to you.
There were no words to describe how the two of you could have gotten this close. Was it due to the fact that the two of you were lonely when it came to things like this? Maybe it was the way you two could feel how the other craved for such attention?
It didn't matter.
At least, it didn't matter in the moment, it certainly didn't matter when his hands so gingerly cupped your face to pull you in close. His lips barely grazing yours which in return earned a soft shudder from you. His eyes were open now, your hands gripping onto the sleeve of his jacket.
"Well?" You murmured, almost leaning in yourself to just get his lips on yours, "Go ahead, vice captain," you purred out the last few words to spur him on. That certainly had an effect on him because you found yourself being tugged into his chest, his lips on yours. You closed your eyes as tightly as you could, his hands letting go of your face and instead holding onto your hips.
It was pure bliss.
Your hands slowly traveling up his arms, your nails finally digging into your shoulder which prompted him to pull back for a moment. Your eyes snapped open, your mouth hanging open in shock, "Oh-" you almost took you hands off his shoulders but he immediately brought his own up to keep them planted. "It's okay, pretty girl," he let out a soft laugh, his forehead leaning into yours. "I just thought...I scared ya," he admitted, but you shook your head.
"No... I... I really liked it," you stammered out, there were so many thoughts running through your head and you leaned back, the desk supporting you. His hands caged you into the desk, but he stared down at you with such a gentle gaze that all the anxiety you felt disappeared. "Um..." silence fell over the two of you, but he started to lean down towards you again. "Is this okay?" His breath tickled your neck, a small squirm coming from you but you still nodded your head. "Mhm,"
With your confirmation, he pressed his lips down your neck. His kisses were slow and cautious at first, but when that little whine came out from your lips, he groaned and just bit down with his teeth. You could feel just how pointy that little fang of his was, it made your eyes roll back for a moment. If he was making you fall apart this fast, who knows how you would do when it came to actual intimacy.
You were thinking too far ahead, right now, it was just you two submitting to each other's longing. But you wanted more, your back arching slightly to just sink into his embrace. "Hoshina..." his name kept slipping out of your mouth, your eyes begging to close so you could just lose yourself in the bliss that Hoshina was granting you.
"Vice Captain?"
The both of you stopped, your eyes staring at the door wide. You could see a silhouette on the other side of the door, and of course that stupid voice sounded familiar.
Hayami.
"Vice Captain?" She repeated, knocking on the door. Thank goodness- she sounded oblivious to what was going on inside. You immediately let go of Hoshina and you shoved yourself to the side. Hoshina's eyes were also wide, but not out of fear but rather surprise. He cleared his throat and he turned to you, "It's okay, pretty girl," his voice was low, but reassuring to you.
You slowly nodded and you moved your hair to cover your neck. Hoshina turned to face the door, "Come in," his voice was loud and rather assertive. The door opened to reveal Hayami, she seemed to had freshen up since the last time you saw her with Kafka. You glanced down at the clock on the desk to see the time. It was getting a little late, so why was she here?
Though she must've been thinking the same thing since her eyes stayed glued to you. "Aoyama, what brings ya here so late?" He questioned immediately, his lips were in a rather straight line than its usual playful one. Hayami seemed to straighten up at the mention of her last name, and you just stood there, wishing that you could just hide or something.
"I'm sorry for any interruptions," she started off, there was a slight twitch under her eye as she glanced over at you for a moment before looking back at her superior. "I just... thought that I would stop by for that training lesson we talked about," her voice got a little softer, almost like as if she was feigning some embarrassment. That obviously set something in you off, was there something also going on between her and Hoshina?
You hoped not- that would drive you insane. But there was something that seemed to change in Hoshina's expression, almost like as if he was confused. "Well..." he crossed his arms as his eyes closed again. It was quiet for a moment before he shook his head, "It's late, ya ain't supposed to be out and about at these hours. We'll resume that trainin' session tomorrow with the other officers. Goodnight Aoyama," he bowed his head down for a moment, signaling for her to leave.
Hayami blinked, she seemed to stay still in the same spot until she composed herself and she saluted him. "Goodnight, Vice Captain," though her tone was rather cold as she turned to leave. Her hand slowly closing the door, and immediately you sighed out in relief before running your hands through your hair to relieve some stress that you built up in that small amount of time.
"Ya okay?" Hoshina turned to you now, "Don't worry about her, she's new to everything," he misunderstood your worries for something else, but that was okay for now. "It's okay, I should probably head down now," you looked down, you wanted to address what just happened but it was getting late and he probably needed his sleep.
"(Y/n),"
You looked up, his head tilted at you with that gentle smile.
"How many times do I have to tell ya to stay?"
Now here you were, in Hoshina's room.
{Chapter Six}
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blossomthepinkbunny · 9 months ago
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Charlie as an underdeveloped character
One thing I was genuinely dissapointed by when watching Hazbin Hotel was that they never cared to dive into Charlie's Morality more.
I feel like a lot of people can agree that Charlie felt very flat/sidelined in a show she was supposed to be the main character of and I think that that's because they ran out of Character Moments for her. Her Backstory is pretty much just infodumped at the start so there's nothing you can really explore there (except for her relationship with her parents ig but they only really brought that up and resolved it in one episode). Alastor has the mystery behind him of what his goals really are, Angel Dust has his arc about standing up to his abuser, Vaggie has her dramatic backstory reveal thing and Sir pentious gets focus as the one real guest at the hotel and with his goal to be redeemed.
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Charlie really has no conflict at all, which is weird since the whole plot is that her idea is relentlessly mocked and never succeeds until the end. But she doesn't have a personal conflict. All the issues she faces come from the ignorance of the people around her who don't support her, but never from who she is. She never has to change. They try to hint at this with her being possibly invasive and not respecting boundaries in the Angel Dust and Valentino episode. But the episode doesn't focus on her and Angel as they talk it out and she realizes how she might have to change as well (from how I remember it). It focuses on Husk and Angel's relationship instead.
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I feel like the easiest route they could've taken for her character was that of a moral dilemma. Charlie believes in second chances and being able to change demons and her opposite is Adam, who doesn't think demons should be redeemed and should just be killed instead. But it's never specified if Charlie truly believes everyone deserves a second chance or if there are restrictions to that. Adam sings a song in the first episode and explaines his reasoning for why he believes demons shouldn't be saved, which is that they had their chance to be good and didn't choose it and now they can't expect another one (I guess the real reason is that he's just an asshole who doesn't care but that's because Vivzepop can't write Villains so I'll just pretend like that's his real reason).
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The problem is that Adam is presented as fully in the wrong and I just don't agree with that. I'm not saying he's right with killing random demons of course but the show never takes the time to consider that sometimes people go to hell because they are actually terrible and have done inexcusable things. Like yeah, someone who had an addicition or a mental health problem while they were alive obviously doesn't deserve eternal suffering without any chance for redeemability, but we know that those aren't the only people that go to hell (in the pilot it's literally confirmed that real life criminals like Jeffrey Dahmer are also down there).
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The show blatanly shows us characters like Valentino who are shown to do irredeemable things and be purely evil.
My question is just if Charlie would also look at someone like Valentino and say: "Yeah they deserve to be saved and get a second chance". She obviously thinks Valentino sucks, which we see in the Episode were she meets him.
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So like, what would she have done if in the second episode someone like him stood at their door and wanted to be redeemed instead of Sir Pentious. Does she draw a line? Or would she have really heard him out? Her morality with this "everybody deserves a second chance" attitude is so underexplored even though it would have been the perfect place to develop her more. If they had confronted her with an actually tough situation, where she is presented with a truly terrible person, they could've had two interesting ways to take her character.
She could've accepted the person and with that she'd have taken her role a fully 'good' saviour for the demons. Someone who is truly without judgement, or atleast believes that there is good in everyone that just has to be brought out. Which would've also given room to think about if people like that are even inherently good, if they can 'excuse' the actions of terrible people and still want to help them. This would have made her a very extreme character in her believes, but something coherent and definitive is actually something Charlie desperately needs for her characterization.
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The other way would've had her reject the person and with that she would have to face the idea that maybe Adam isn't fully wrong. In that situation she would have found herself in a similar position to the Angels in heaven, where she basically is the one deciding over what's acceptable and what isn't. This could lead to her having a moral dilemma. Is she even a good person if she's deciding what's moral and what isn't? Can she just be okay with making exceptions to her idea to protect her people? Does she even want to view EVERY demon as her family? Or does she think there are some demons that maybe deserve death?
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I'm just really dissapointed that the show takes such an interesting idea and such a difficult topic and then just does nothing with it. What we view as bad and good and which people we judge harder than others will always depend on social norms and the situation. It's a topic with no real right and wrong answer because there are so many things to consider. But this moral grey conflict that is literally one of the MAIN CONFLICTS in Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly underwritten, that it's not even funny.
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Instead of acknowledging the difficulty of the subject Hazbin does what it does best and takes the easy route with seemingly clear right and wrong sides. This is especially stupid, since morally grey characters are supposed to be the point of the show. Like there are these demons who have done bad things and who aren't perfect, but that doesn't make them bad people. Its about revealing that a person has layers (which the writing doesn't). This is also a big point in Helluva Boss, where characters like Blitzø or Stolas who mess up repeatedly, are supposed to be shown as still having interests, aspirations, and good things to them.
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The easy route which is taken constantly in both shows however makes it so that Charlie is completely in the right and anyone who criticises her is one of the evil people who try to ruin her plan, just like Adam. Who's also such a straw man for anyone who even dares to bring any objection to Charlies ideas, because everyone who does is apparently a hypocrite who just doesn't understand her and would rather side with genocide (I wonder were Vivzepop takes her inspiration from).
Charlies writing was just really dissapointing with almost never any reflection being done on her part. She doesn't have really striking moments, discussions or ideas to her in a show she's supposed to lead. That's just an issue that comes with Vivzepop never really putting as much work into her female characters, even tough they would desperately need it.
I know that only the first season is out so far, but I highly doubt thay they'll bring up a discussion like this in s2. Especially since Adam is dead now and the Angels will probably try to work more with the demons, after Sir Pentious' redemtion and the reveal of the exterminations to them. Also the Vees, Lillith and Alastor will be more of focus from what we can assume by the ending scenes.
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I just don’t like that Viv can take interesting conflicts and write them to be completely one-dimensional and boring.
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