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sirenscriptures · 9 months ago

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primarchs + fantasies

summary: basically just a ramble thirst post because i want to drag 30k/40k into my already mess of a blog. i’m still figuring out certain pieces of characterization/lore so be patient with me here <3 i am suffering this brainrot and dragging you down with me!

warnings/notes: nsfw themes (18+ only), fem-bodied depicted reader, mentions/depictions of exhibitionism, of course size difference, hints of breeding kinks, slight mention of blood drawing, bondage/rope play. (these are partial fantasies i think they’d have but also they are genuinely so touch starved i think even the slightest form of physical intimacy could make them combust. in a good way.)

featuring: lion el’jonson, fulgrim, leman russ, magnus, sanguinius, mortarion, and horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

lion el’jonson

look, if there’s one thing each of the primarchs could use in some way, it’s a fucking break. lion is definitely one of those primarchs. the man has always been on high alert, and has never truly known how to relax. that is, until he bonded with you.

the fact he’s found himself so close to you is quite a milestone of sorts. being a primarch of many secrets, you can assert that he isn’t someone who trusts easily. he doesn't let many others know what his deeper thoughts contain, not even some of his own blood.

however, it’s almost like he’s a different person in your presence. when he’s with you, he feels a profound sense of peace, like he can shut his mind off from his usual stressors and worries. especially during your alone time.

but it’s when he’s completely alone (a rare occurrence) that his thoughts tend to wander more than usual. it isn’t a total shock in the slightest when all he can think about is you. but when his thoughts are crowded with curiosities of what sounds you’d make while on top of him and how you’d feel wrapped around him…yeah it gets a little concerning to someone of his stature.

the thoughts of you like this start small…then they bloom into much more , to the point where if he even looks your direction when in this state of mind he’s a stuttering, flustered mess. a completely rare state for a primarch to be caught in, yet here we are.

so, it’s safe to say that while lion isn’t one to deeply “fantasize” like some of his brothers might, his intrusive thoughts about you certainly have a habit of spiraling and he has to physically slap himself to snap out of it.

fulgrim

in terms of fantasies, where do we even start with fulgrim? ever since you let him get close to you, whether that be on a personal or physical level, it was like opening pandora’s box. when you get him started, there is no going back.

it doesn’t have to be much to get him started with you. just your beauty alone and seeing you smile at him could get his dirtier thoughts racing. (horny bastard <3)

the fact that you were totally oblivious for a while of the power you held over him was amusing at times. though he was much bigger than you, he often thought about what you would do if he let you take the reins over him.

even just the thought of your soft hands running over his bare body could make him shiver. he could picture perfectly how beautiful you’d look if he had you on top of him. but he could also picture how beautiful you’d look if he had you in front of a mirror.

the way your delicate frame would lean against his chest as he fucked into you, massive hands roaming all about your perfect body…

most of the time he has to stop himself from thinking any further, for just the thoughts alone aren’t enough. maybe he’ll show you what he means when you’re alone with him in his chambers.

leman russ

if you want to delve into literal ferality, it is absolutely leman’s brain. and his actions, of course. so it isn’t far fetched to say his fantasies about you are in the same realm as his normal thought processes.

now, just because he is one of the more “feral” primarchs doesn’t mean he lacks complete restraint. but when it comes to you, let’s just say his restraint goes a bit…out the window if you know what i mean.

when his mind does wander and you’re not around, he tends to imagine showing you off. exhibiting how well he can pleasure you and how good you look while he does it to you. he doesn’t mind those of his legion seeing him with you like this, and even when you two are alone during these moments, he almost wants someone to see.

he would love to display the way he makes you whimper and squirm around him while rutting into you. though, he won’t let anyone get the wrong idea. you’re his, and he won’t let you forget that in the slightest.

but that’s not even half of what he’d like to do to you. and you can tell so blatantly in the way he teases you, unashamed of who’s around when he makes his usual remarks. but at the same time, he does it all out of love. he knows how annoyed you get from him pushing your buttons all the time, but he can tell you wouldn’t change it for anything.

magnus the red

for someone who sees most physical intimacy as a “waste of time” like a few of his other brothers, he certainly doesn’t stick to that thought process when it's you he's thinking about.

with magnus being as knowledgeable as he is, it genuinely frustrates him when he can’t figure out at first why he feels this way about someone like you. yet the more time he spends around you, and the more you show how open you are to learning from him and that you actually listen to him, the more these feelings start to increase.

in a strange way, he feels comforted by you. though when he’s closer to you than usual, these feelings of comfort seem to…deepen into more than he first expected.

even though he can’t pinpoint it at first, he finds that every time he’s away from you, the want for your presence grows within him like some sort of hunger. yet, it’s now laced with the craving to feel your touch.

his mind is generous in being able to envision you beneath him, body trembling with arousal as his touch travels your bare skin, admiring and caressing every inch of you. all of his senses are ablaze; the craving for your touch, voice, scent, everything becoming too much for even someone of his stature to endure.

shaking away these thoughts is much more of a challenge than magnus would first anticipate. but now that he’s come to this self discovery, he doesn’t want to waste anymore time merely thinking about it.

sanguinius

while sanguinius is the more compassionate of the primarchs when it comes to overall personality, don’t let that fool you. when this man gets down, he’s an absolute freak.

on a serious note, the one thing sanguinius loves is spoiling you, on all levels, of course. but he just has a little bit of extra fun when he gets to do it to you physically. he does love when you return the favor, but if he’s being completely honest he likes it more when he gets to please you.

when he’s with you in an ordinary setting, he doesn’t let his more “sinful” thoughts take over. out of many of his siblings, he is certainly one of the most restrained and can control himself when it comes to feelings such as these. one of the lucky ones, he supposes.

but despite being able to hide it, you do make it quite difficult at times. it can be anything that triggers that burning within him—the way you unsuspectingly bat your eyelashes when you stare at him, or when you look so bashful when he greets you with a kiss on your hand. or even when you accidentally brush up against one of his wings. and you aren’t even aware you do so much to him physically…

yet there’s not much that gets him going quite like the thought of driving you absolutely mad with pleasure (much like fulgrim if we’re being honest here). whether it’s the thought of how you’d react to his head in between your thighs until your legs tremble uncontrollably, or how pretty you’d sound when he drains just the slightest bit of blood from your tender neck…

sometimes he’s left heavy-breathed at the thought, and you’re not even in the same room as him. if only you were aware of the effects you had on him. though, something inside sanguinius felt as though it wouldn’t be a mystery for much longer.

mortarion

believe it or not, mortarion is not a total stranger to these kinds of thoughts. though, it’s much more intensified since you’re the only person he’s had these thoughts about.

with mortarion being one of the more distant and reserved of his brothers, his sex drive is one of those things he’s never had to deal with since he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. so it’s no surprise how easily pent up he can become.

even just the slightest things you do can get him electrified, and the poor, touch and affection-starved soul doesn’t even fully understand why. the way you smiled at him with genuine fondness from a distance the other day? he’s still thinking about it for weeks. the way your hand gently brushed against his face by mistake? still has him reeling even when he’s in your presence.

the way his thoughts of you overwhelm him is far from easy to deal with, and you immediately notice the way his behavior changes in response to these newer sensations.

it’s so much worse when he’s away from you for long periods of time, though. his mind is racing with everything from how beautiful you would look tied up in various positions; the imprints of rope staining your soft skin, to what sweet sounds he could get you to make in response to his mouth in between your legs.

his poor legionaries when they have to deal with him in this state…he’s so helplessly tuned out from everything and they have not a clue what’s going on with their primarch. but he won’t have to worry much longer, for he’ll be venting his sexual frustrations out on you when you’re both reunited.

horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining. honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining.

the way he is around you is his usual self, but his thoughts about you aren’t restrained in the slightest. you’re so captivating, and while he wants to hang on every word you say to him, he can’t help but fantasize in the process.

horus doesn’t expect you to have a very strong effect on him at first, yet he’s proved wrong very quickly when he’s away from you. when he’s finally alone is when it hits him.

he thinks about how much he’d love it if he had you all to himself. he could imagine spoiling you in every way imaginable, but especially physically. he could imagine all the noises he could cause you to make, and all of the sensations he could make you feel. but most of all, he could imagine breeding you—filling you up with his seed to where you know that you’re his.

from there, you’re the cause of all of horus’ sleepless nights until he gets to see you again…

#primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #primarch smut #⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚 — sea’s scriptures #☾ — nightly yearning #primarch headcanons #horus lupercal x reader #leman russ x reader #magnus the red x reader #fulgrim x reader #lion el’jonson x reader

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mllenugget · 1 year ago

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Hello I mcyt fandom-ified la Team du Lundi members and wrote a shit ton of text about it

After exhausting myself on trying to catch up on the current QSMP lore I got a sudden craving for a more familiar and fast paced kind of minecraft content and ended up rewatching all the Team du Lundi's SMP best of's I could find

And while doing so with my brain still hazed in fandom brainrot, I started picking up on minor details or info the players casually dropped, and drew parallels to the French speakers' QSMP counterparts This is going to be a long wordy post I don't even know what I am rambling about and for. Three things you need to be aware of about la Team du Lundi before reading :

Baghera, Antoine and Etoiles are the only QSMP players that are part of la Team du Lundi

As far as I remember the only two elements that suggest that la Team du Lundi's SMP could be canon to QSMP are Antoine being pressured into building another Tower of Shit, and Baghera's infamous fountain being mentioned when she was asked if her character remembers anything from her past before the island

La Team du Lundi's SMP was NOT a roleplaying server, it was just a private survival server for a small circle of friends casually playing together. So whenever I quote someone in this specific post, it is the streamer : there is no character other than the persona the streamer is usually showing on stream, but I just thought it would be fun to interpret certain situations while keeping in mind the QSMP lore. And here goes :

Baghera claims that when she was a kid she strongly believed that she could breathe underwater. The others joke about her having fins

Antoine jokingly tells Baghera he doesn’t need oxygen at all

Antoine claims he will still be alive thousands of years forwards

Antoine’s voice shifts when he wants to appear creepy

Baghera built an aquarium at her place, then helped Antoine build one at his tower, then built a giant swimming pool, then a fountain, then a waterslide- do you see a theme ?

Baghera knows that her skin is actually that of a chick and not a duckling, and calls it so here

Chat said that Baghera has a middle child syndrome, justifying that she bullies Angle Droit because Etoiles bullies her in the first place (Etoiles has also called her « little sister » in a derogatory way)

Etoiles has repeatedly asked people to play Valorant with him at least once

Here's a clip of Etoiles getting languaged in french and owing "a gifted sub in the swear jar"

Unrelated random clip of Etoiles because it creates happy hormones in me brain

Etoiles is regularly refered to as "the warrior"

Etoiles guided the whole group during an expedition to the End and he was literally glowing doing so (enchanted arrows effect) Everyone called him "the guide"

Baghera was the one who gave the final blow to the Enderdragon (and died from magic right after)

Etoiles spent most of his time adventuring in order to bring stuff and gear back to everyone for their builds

Etoiles asked Aypierre for help in order to design a redstone door for his cave which could only open upon solving a puzzle (which was egg & arrow related) (Aypierre was not a member of the server)

Etoiles built a nightclub with the walls and ceiling covered in wardenblocks making it look like a starry sky. He also rehomed Allays holding golden apples inside claiming them to be the souls working for him and that they lived there peacefuly

Etoiles jokingly talks about Antoine acting jealous and violent towards him because Etoiles told him he wanted to go and visit Kameto (who also was not a member of the server)

Baghera (along with Horty) had a rivalry with Joueur du Grenier (host of the server with admin powers) after he decided to build a massive parking lot right next to their house. They countered by covering the whole thing with dirt, followed by JDG building a factory and the two parties went back and forth. Baghera argued that it was stupid because they didnt even have cars to begin with (which is a sentence she reused when talking about Forever's roads) Also she tells JDG that he could've built a seaport instead, which makes JDG contemplate the thought of building an airport (and though he ended up never building it, I am side eyeing the French's plane crash)

At some point JDG wonders about what a roleplaying minecraft server would look like (RPZ 2), to which Baghera replies that she has a hard time picturing the thing "We'd all just build things you see ? I don't think we'd create stories, we would all just be like "I'm a builder, ah you too ? Well awesome, builders, cool"" and I find this to be hilariously ironic (fun fact : Baghera had no idea that QSMP was a roleplaying server when she first joined and often claims she would've taken a different approach with her character had she known right off the gate)

As I was finishing to write this down, these fuckers (/lh) decided to host a closure night for the server as they've never really officially did it, everyone just sort of deserted the server after a while. Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine kept referring to QSMP throughout the night, mostly talking about how weird it felt without mods. Among other meta commentary things

They mentionned Cellbit and Bad multiple times as the group was trying to solve enigmas. Antoine talked about "the cultural sharing" between communities as he taught insults to each others with Mike, Roier and Maximus in their respective languages Multiple more players were namedropped (including eggs) while Antoine was talking about how the server functions

Yes, Baghera and Etoiles kept their QSMP skins. Etoiles with his code corrupted purgatory one, and Baghera with her fading pink disheveled hair (with the addition of her cubito wearing Horty's merch)

Baghera admits that going back to this small familiar vanilla server feels like coming back home to your family during the holidays

Team du Lundi's cameos in QSMP :

Though Pomme has never canonically met JDG (even though most of her parents have talked about him to her at least once), she occasionaly breaks the 4th wall to refer to him. She once compared one of BBH's "vacation" flower shirts with his, and when Foolish and Bad asked her to elaborate (obviously not getting the reference) she proceeded to play JDG's music theme with the flute instead (Also I really feel the need to once more point out how mindblowing it is for your average french speaking viewer to have JDG's intro theme being added to the mod they use in the QSMP because of how anchored it is within french internet pop culture. Like this shit has been existing for 14 fucking years, it's part of the childhood of a lot of us, so to find a clip of British hardcore player Philza peacefuly listening to Mexican egg admin Tallulah play this theme on her flute feels like a multiverse fever dream)

Horty has been on Quesadilla Island through cc!Baghera's account, but neither of them really wanted to justify it RP wise. Baghera just wanted to give her best friend a tour of the island. Horty only got to meet Richarlyson who gave her a tour of Cellbit's castle and made her pick a room (she chose Chaos). She also chatted with Etoiles who tagged along for a bit and (this is obviously justified by it being a one-shot out of roleplay filler episode kind of night) they both already knew each other and were on friendly enough terms to bicker with one another Also she was part of the French speakers Quackity reached out to to invite on the server, but she had to decline because she was very busy at that time (and also not interested) Also also she was Baghera's teammate for that Formula 4 event, and Baghera has discussed it and showed pictures to a couple of islanders, including Richas who was very hyped about it

Another player the viewers were hoping to see on Quackity's server is Mynthos. He exists within the server with the picture of him that hangs in Pomme's art gallery, the cursed animation video that used to play in La France, as well as with Aypierre's health potion factory that bears his name

Angle Droit and Zerator are sometimes namedropped when the French speakers talk with their chat. Angle Droit frequently raids Baghera's and Antoine's streams, and though it has never been confirmed, a lot of viewers theorized that she was the +1 player Baghera and Etoiles wanted to invite on the server had they won the elections.

As for Zera, Etoiles went AFK on QSMP a couple of times in order to test some of Zerator's TrackMania maps (which he later discussed with Pac). I also remember a very trivial conversation Etoiles had with Mouse and Aypierre where he laughed about hurting his back very badly after carrying a fellow streamer during a caritative event, said event was hosted by Zerator (he's also the one judging them with concern from his desk)

I'm done.

Bonus alternative design for Angle Droit because at first I thought she was a fox then it turned out she was a corgi but then she changed it again to a fox and woop

#I wrote down a whole other post just as long as this one to explain my individual thought process behind each designs #Took me weeks to write- had a couple of clips to back up my headcanons #but then I was reading the post again checking for mistakes before realizing #yo just #that is so many words and for what #just let your designs speak for themselves hey trust yourself let there be room for interpretation #if people turn out to be curious well i guess thats what ask box was created for leave it be thats enough #(not) fun fact : I drew those Baghera Etoiles & Antoine designs back in june and the files got corrupted and I lost a week worth of work #if we are mutuals on discord youve mightve heard me whine about this one #mcyt #team du lundi #qsmp #angle droit #hortyunderscore #baghera jones #zerator #etoiles #mynthos #joueur du grenier #antoine daniel #serveur du lundi #my art

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 20 hours ago

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Day 60

Wow we really made it 60 days huh?

Okay so i’m not gonna yap long for this part. You saw the image, you see the read under. This is a small comic adaptation of @vanadisvalentine’s “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” fanfic. And it adapts the end of Chapter 4 which is pretty fuckin pivotal in that story. So if you haven’t read that fic yet I’m actually begging you, please read it and don’t let this comic be your first experience.

Second warning, this is going to be a long one. How long? Who knows. I haven’t written it yet, but this Day represents one of the biggest turning points in the whole project for me.

When you click the read under you’re gonna get just the comic, and then you're gonna get hit with a gigantic fucking wall of text. I apologize in advance for the amount of rambling I’m about to do but I got a lot to say here.

Okay so you read the comic, you ready? Cause not only am I gonna yap about making that comic along with all the behind the scenes stuff, (amidst other tangents), but I’m also going to talk about the fic this is based on. This is probably going to feel a bit disorganized but i’ll try my best to keep this legible. Apologies in advance.

So your first thought is probably “Jem why the fuck did you do that?” and you’re correct for thinking that way. Rest assured, you’re going to ask that question again later but significantly louder and more exasperated in the future.

Answer is simple though. I wanted to do something big for Number 60, cause every 10 images I wanna do something Big. For Number 50 I came out of retirement and wrote a fanfic and some art to go with it. So I wanted to go up. How do i go up? Well I am a comic artist, and making a webcomic is my general goal in life and what directs me forward. Sooo, why not a comic?

Okay but a comic of what? Well, why not a fanfic? And at the time the real answer was obvious.

There are Three Fanfics made for Junkan that are pivotal to this entire event. Without all three of them combined ya’ll would not be having Junkan art pop up in your feed every day, questioning what the hell is in my bloodstream to make me draw all this. The answer is Junkan, junkan is in my bloodstream.

I plan to talk about all three of those fics in this event, in as much detail as I can muster. That said not only are we going in reverse order, as todays fic “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” is the last piece of the puzzle for why I went off the deep end and drew this much Junkan. But also the other two fics aren’t gonna be discussed for a long time due to their placement in the event order. I’m talking within the last ten days. Oops.

But at the time it was, pretty fucking easy to choose this one to adapt. The other two either wouldn’t really fit my style that I had been working with up to that point, or were just not made to be a comic without way more energy.

And as a reminder this was before I had actually gotten to know some of ya’ll. Within the realm of Junkan Val was the only friend I had. I did have other people who liked DR and were on board with Junkan after I showed them my supply and stated my case, but Val was the only person I knew at the time who was as brainrotted for this ship as I am, granted I think she has like, a normal amount of brainrot. I think by the end of the project I’ve fully snapped and now I can’t stop thinking about these two, like I have actually tried to stop thinking about them but they keep popping up. What was I talking about- Right! Point is, you can consider Day 60, or as I would call it in casual conversation “The 22 Page Junkan Comic,” my most excessive thankyou to her for helping me stay motivated throughout the project and playing a massive part in its inspiration.

As for making the comic.

It was a very bold mix of “I’m having the time of my life” and “Hell,” that's the shortest way I could put it. The longest way? Wellll

So by this point I wasn’t just showing these pics to Val alone. I had a few friends even before Val who I showed the art too. I’d get compliments and feedback and all that nice stuff that keeps me going.

As I’ve stated in the past (i think) one of the hardest parts of this project for me was the lack of validation for my efforts. I do not make art purely to be complimented, I make art in order to hopefully bring a smile to someones face. However I do still take a lot of joy when I see my art being positively received, it shows that my efforts were worth it. Seeing peoples reactions helps me remember why I’m doing this and that I’m doing a good job at it. So if I don’t get a lot of that, especially on something i put a lot of effort into, it can be a little demoralizing. It’s something I’ve tried to work past during this year, but at the time it was a big issue. Day 60 took around 2 weeks to finish, as I was managing other projects and commission work at the time. The whole time I barely showed anyone, Val was obvious because this was a surprise gift for her, however the rest is because I was very adamant about not spoiling the Fic it was based on, and say for a single person amidst the people I would show these pics to none of them had read the fic. So I went from showing a small handful of people these to showing one guy (admittedly one of my best friends) for the span of 2 weeks while grinding away at the comic. It wasn’t until the very tail end that my girlfriend surprised me by reading the fic, meaning I could show her as well finally.

Was it worth starving myself of a majority of positive feedback for 2 weeks when I haven’t had to do something like that for years? Oh god yes but we’re not there yet I still need to talk about the actual comic.

So when you compare the fic to the comic you’ll notice I skipped a decent portion of this scene, this is mostly just for the sake of not making this take too long, I think I picked a pretty solid starting point but also I won’t lie and say there isn’t a part of me that wishes I took like an extra week or two to adapt the whole scene sometimes. Sometimes.

Mukuro acted as the pseudo cover for the comic, both because it was a small detail noted in the scene that she was watching the door, and because I could call back to the “Mukuro Notes” bit I did on the Vampire Junkan comic, which seemed like a cute call back. I also used this as a way to skip past some of the initial dialogue of the scene in terms of adaptation. I’m really happy with how this page turned out visually, I remember having to fiddle with Mukuro’s anatomy and smaller details for awhile.

As you can probably tell, like usual the art for this was still being done as a sketch which I colored rather than what I do in my usual comic stuff, that being Sketch > Lines > Colors > Shading. I did shade a few of these pages cause I think the extra effort was warranted for some pages. I wouldn’t know this without like, actually time traveling to check but I think there was even a time this would be just uncolored sketches. Clearly that didn’t last because yeah, the chick who’s drawing 100 days worth of junkan art is going to make a 22 page comic and NOT color the whole thing, keep telling yourself that Jem.

Once again since I was directly adapting this fic like with Day 20, I tried to be semi accurate in what I assume Junko’s appearance would be, giving her the bunny and bow clips in her hair. I didn’t go all the way since honestly I think i would have gone a little crazy if I drew both characters in their actual Hope’s Peak uniforms for the whole thing, so I mostly stuck to their killing game designs with that small change to Junko. And yes, I did have to edit Junko’s hair to remove the bear clips multiple times throughout the first few pages because I kept forgetting not to draw them. For the first time having these two memorized was a hindrance.

If you’ve ever seen me draw a Question Mark with a cross instead of a dot when drawing Mikan, it’s cause of this comic. Val said it was a cute detail so I decided to stick with it when applicable.

I think I have read the segment of the story this is based on like, 30 times bare minimum. Now some of those times were just because I often reread this fic to help me relax before sleeping, but the majority are because I kept looking at this scene over and over again so I could try and get every detail of this perfect. The posing, expressions, and other visuals, while a little rough around the edges were all possible after going over every paragraph to get the vibe as close as possible.

The dialogue is word for word, punctuation for punctuation ripped from the fic itself. Mildly difficult to pull off without having to extend certain pages, but in the end I managed to pull it off.

Page 7 is one of my favorite pages from the experience. Originally the visual was supposed to be Junko in literal chains of despair with Mikan coming in with a key to unlock them, however chains are agonizing to draw. Not drawing them was a form of self care, even if I think it would have been a bit of a stronger metaphor.

Mikan’s expressions were very difficult to get just right in this, which was half the fun. Do you know how fucking satisfying it was to draw her happy crying??? Very.

Page 10 is another one I’m really happy with. I don’t know exactly what the original plan was beyond the fact that I wanted the shot of Mikan reacting to that being a lot more visually extreme for the colors and amount of space it takes up to make it as overwhelming as possible. But I went in reverse and made the initial heart stop moment of her realizing that Junko just said that more prominent than the rush of emotion hitting her right after.

There were going to be more visuals of Mikan being cute in the following page, however not only was I struggling for ideas but also my energy was fluctuating to hell and back by this point in the comic.

It took awhile to get the initial kiss to look good because by this point I was still really figuring out how the fuck to do that. I can’t remember if I mentioned it but the kiss in the Vampire Comic is one I actually edited after the fact before the post was scheduled because it looked really weird and pissed me off. Luckily this one doesn’t bother me at all. I remember being super paranoid i made the posing look too sexual, I don’t know what the fuck past me was on about but I’m not here to question I’m here to curse you all with knowledge and funfacts.

On page 15 Junko’s blush and smile are a bit more intense compared to the other panels on this page while she wipes away Mikan’s tears. This is because in future stories by Val it is confirmed a few times that Junko has dacryphilia, meaning she thinks Mikan looks really hot when she’s crying. Yes I’m really working in details from other fics into this comic, you should not be surprised this isn’t even the weirdest thing i’ve put in this whole event.

Peak comedy that I mentioned the question mark with the cross dot earlier and on Page 16 I didn’t do that, immersion broken, back to square one Past Jem!

Junko with no contacts!!! I mentioned during one of the Vampire AU days that while I don’t feature it in that AU alone I like the idea of Junko’s real eye color being red. Something I can never remember whether it’s actually canon or just strongly implied. I think this is the page I put the most amount of effort into, both to make it look well lit, and also to make sure her god damn eyes look as pretty as humanly possible. The end result may or may not be my favorite page of the whole comic? I dunno

I said Mikan’s expressions were hard to draw for this since I wanted to get them just right, she requires a lot more work on the smaller details to make everything feel right. Junko however? Oh no I was thriving by this point, her more lowkey expressions do need a bit more thought and effort, but by this point in the comic I was in my element with her.

But speaking of expressions, Page 19.

That smile on Mikan in the middle panel took 20 fuckin’ minutes because I had never drawn Mikan looking that happy and I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I did actually edit the page last night (as of the writing of this post), however it wasn’t for the expression. In the original version of the page, Junko looked really fuckin weird in the last panel, like I don’t know how I let that slide but her whole face and neck looked way off. These pages aren’t like, perfect quality but that one was just egregious. Also edited Mikan’s blush in that panel just cause I was already there.

Junko’s surprised face was very fun.

And I think if I were gonna ever redo any page in full for this comic it’d be the last one. I don’t think this one looks bad I just know that I could I could do way better nowadays even if I stuck to just coloring a sketch. Maybe sometime down the line.

And that’s the comic itself! I can’t think of any other fun facts or thoughts on the art itself at this point. Uhhhh, I guess the cover I made last minute for this post is technically a reference to a future day? What does that mean? Oh you’ll fuckin’ see.

So 2 weeks of effort with little feedback and rereading the same scene over and over again, was it worth it?

God yes it was.

When I sent Val the Google Drive folder with the comic I was jittery for hours as if I had too much coffee. I was nervous as shit over whether she would like it or not, since this was when I still was a perpetual nervous wreck with very little self respect who was viewing her as “Coolest Person Ever” rather than “That’s bestie.” I was also nervous because it was the first time I actually asked for a more detailed response rather than just letting her respond in whatever way she wanted.

But when she responded?

I have lived the past several years doing weed, I’ve recently quit (i think by the time this posts it’ll be close to 3 months since I went clean), but that’s besides the point. I’ve had mild highs, crazy highs, bad highs, good highs, sad highs, and highs where I don’t feel anything.

I severely doubt that any drug or vice on this planet will ever match the feeling of reading that response. I was shaking, I bit my knuckles until it left indents for like a full hour minimum, an adrenaline rush doesn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing. I rode out the happiness from this moment for an entire week, I worked on comm jobs that would normally leave me feeling aggravated as hell and did so with a smile because I was just that fuckin excited over it. This probably sounds embarrassing as shit but there have been times where I go back to read that response when I just need a pick me up.

I had a fuckin epiphany at that moment. Who fuckin cares?

24 fucking years (25 starting tomorrow) I’ve lived my life as a people pleaser perfectionist with extreme paranoia problems with absolutely no self esteem and a whole wealth of other mental health issues. I would feel like dogshit if I halfassed a comm even if it was a really bad one. My whole goal in life was to make a webcomic that would make EVERYONE happy, be a positive part of their week. I was paranoid about pissing off the wrong people, starting shit, how people perceive me, about what ideas for my comic would be problematic or not. But after this? Who gives a shit?

It ain’t about making People Happy it’s about making Yourself Happy and the People you can reach happy. My goal is still to make a webcomic that people will come across, and look forward to every week as an escape to give them some positive vibes every week, but I ain’t gonna do that if I’m desperately trying to appeal to every single person on the planet while trying to stay as uncontroversial as possible. I wanna make art that makes people happy, and if I make it the way I wanna make it then it will eventually reach the people that it can make happy.

But enough of that shit, the actual big thing that happened because of my complete reassessment of my personal values and entire goal for life is that I fucking finally stopped giving a shit about whether people were gonna throw me in a woodchipper because I shipped Junkan. And it will continue to get funnier and funnier that after all the time I spent scared out of my fuckin’ mind over what people would think, that absolutely fucking nothing happened. It is day 49 at the time of writing this and STILL I have not had anyone give me grief or issues over this whole project, nothing but support and even some new friends over it. You cannot write something funnier than that.

I think if I went back in time and told myself at the beginning of the year that her fears were completely unfounded she would bleed out the eyes and pass out, and I would laugh. I’d laugh so fuckin’ hard.

So yeah, this Comic and the reaction it elicited changed my entire perspective on life and being an artist, I can’t say It’s been perfect or that I haven’t faltered on certain things, but I think to an extent I have been a lot happier as a result. Is it a little weird that this niche version of a niche ship is now directly tied to a drastic change in my mind? Is it any weirder than the fact that I transitioned into a woman because I binge read like, all of the Tokomaru I possibly could on AO3 and it made me think that wearing a skirt might be cool?

Alright so how’re ya'll holdin up? Drink some water we ain’t done. This is already getting up to 7 pages on the google doc that I prepare these posts on and now I have to like, talk about Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed properly. So bare witness to me trying to figure out how the hell to format talking about what might just be my favorite fic of all time.

But first lemme go reread the entire thing, I know the passage of time doesn’t exist in the context of these text walls but i’ll be back in like, a few hours to a day.

Okay i’m back-

I’m honestly not sure where to start here. Normally with my biggest obsessions I could probably go on lengthy rambles about why I love them so much, but this? I struggle to find a proper place to start, or even how to format this. I don’t want to just give a beat for beat plot synopsis while talking about the things I like, but also how do I talk about something this good otherwise.

So fair warning this might be completely incoherent at points, sorry??

This was not like, the third Junkan fic I ever read despite it being one of the three fics vital to me becoming the inhuman machine of pure Junkan brainrot that I’ve become today. A lot of things are blurred but if I remember right the exact timeline of events was Read a cute Junkan fic which made me think “Wait this ship can be soft and cute???” and then I read Smile by Kayleen, which is funny in hindsight because I really went to tooth rotting fluff to one of the darkest Non-Abusive Junkan fics out there (dark by my standards at least and I think my frame of reference is out of sorts). I think after that I just stopped for awhile, partially because Smile wasn’t finished at the time, partially because I still wasn’t sure how to navigate the Junkan tag to find what I was looking for in the ship.

Smile comes to a thrilling conclusion and I think to myself “maybe this author has more?” which is how I found Kayleen’s series of One-Shots for these two (along with separate three other pieces), I read through those in a day and would continue to check the tag to see if it updated, like, every day. Eventually after a couple months (possibly way longer), something came over me and I finally started seriously looking over the tag to try and find more Soft Junkan, whether there were others I read before it or not, I honestly can’t remember.

What I do remember is I came across “The Marvelous Makeover of Mikan Tsumiki” by VanadisValentine. I don’t know how I found that before the fic of today’s subject, if I had to guess I wasn’t reading the tags first on this run through. I was likely reading the name of the fic, and THEN i read the tags to see if it has what I was looking for (I wasn’t a starving animal for the ship by this point so I was a lot more picky with what I was willing to risk my time on). And this fic’s name was slightly more eye catching for me at the time I guess??

Fun fact when I first read this fic I wasn’t even sure if it actually was a shipping piece at first, not until finishing it at least. How? Poor reading comprehension is my only guess lol. Anyway, I finish that, loved it, and made my usual move of checking to see if the author had written anything else like this fic, and oh boy did she.

This finally brings us to me finally reading “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed.” Took us fucking long enough.

It was perfect, it was everything. I fucking loved reading it the entire time. It had everything I could have wanted out of this ship without me even realizing what I wanted at the time. The weirdest part that my immediate response after wasn’t to go on an adrenaline fueled binge of the tag like I did for Tokomaru way back when I first got into Danganronpa. The most I did was read the other Junkan fics in Val’s library at the time. Otherwise I just stopped again.

It was then that I drew the first three days of this event, the original sketches. I kept them a secret between myself and a small few friends, too paranoid to let anyone find out. And things just kinda stayed like that, for awhile. And then sometime in December, of last year I decided to give that same fic another read, and something just kinda, fucking snapped?

I went up and down the Junkan Tag on AO3, reading whatever I could, I was reading stuff I wouldn’t have ever risked reading with variable amounts of success. I only skipped a small handful of fics, including one that we’ll come back to way later in the project. Everything else I was scraping even the smallest crumb of fic to read at times. After that I scoured the tumblr tags, taking in whatever soft art or headcanons that I could, I went to Fanfiction.net, a website I still barely know how to fuckin’ navigate to try and find ANYTHING. I went to Deviantart to try and find any art or fics, no results not helped by the fact that it would include results that were slightly related. And not to sound like a Youtuber with no personality who’s built their career on punching down at whoever they can because otherwise their audience would see they’re a complete shell of a human being, but it being deviantart you can imagine what I was finding more often on that search.

I even went to Wattpad, and that ones it’s own mini story that I’m saving for Tomorrow because the art for Tomorrow doesn’t have a lot of talking points on it’s own like this one does. But Wattpad had no fuckin results either.

I cannot remember the last time I had ever been this obsessed with a ship, this desperate. So, 100 Days of Junkan began, even if it wasn’t planned to be this big project. All cause of this fic turning a switch in my brain with a hammer.

Hey look we’re talking about the fic again, I told you this was gonna incoherent.

Anyway so the fic is just, perfect? To me at least? Before I had even realized why I liked the ship in the first place it did everything that I love about it at it’s core. It practically set the standard for the ship in my brain, at bare minimum within the context of a Non-Despair AU. And overtime as Val’s continued to write for these two her portrayals of the character are practically just how I view them at this point.

It’s not 1 to 1 but you can likely trace every aspect of how I portray Junko and Mikan whether through art or writing back to Val’s writing, down to even using certain pet names for the characters because of their usage in her work. I’d worry that I’m being way too much, heaping an overbearing amount of praise and respect. But also this fic unintentionally sent me careening into the direction of drawing 150+ Junkan pictures, learning various new skills and techniques as an artist, rekindled my love of writing (despite the horrors of actually having to write), making new friends both in and out of this community including some who I consider close, coping with mental health issues, and then performing this gigantic project at the tail end of the year. So I might actually be underselling this a bit in actuality. And don’t worry when I get to talking about a few other fics later in the project I’ll be doing my best to give equal praise to them as well, it’s just gonna be a bit sdlahfljasdfhas.

I’ve already said it but the fic has everything, at least of the core reasons I love this ship from the non-abusive perspective that this blog has built its foundation on.

To me I love Junkan because it’s two people that could not be anymore different from one another, who arguably should despise one another finding happiness in each other. It adds a new layer of depth to Junko to ponder how someone like her, whether in canon or in a non-despair AU like this could fall in genuine love with a total wreck like Mikan and how that would affect her character. It’s fluffy moments of Mikan getting to be genuinely happy for what might be the first time in her life while Junko showers her with affection. It’s Junko being fucking hilarious while Mikan can barely keep up with her humor and teasing because she’s so flustered. It’s Junko grappling with newfound emotions. It’s Junko and Mikan bringing out the best in each other and inciting positive change through their influence. It’s that perfect blend of hurt/comfort. And so much more beyond that, all contained in this one god damn fic. I might even be forgetting things I like about the ship too, there’s just so much that goes into this!

Obviously this is all specifically in a Non-Despair context, the Evil Girlfriends angle has a myriad of other reasons to enjoy the ship which I’ve become fond of. Especially in some of the parallels it can have with a non-Toxic Yuri angle of things. But that doesn’t really apply for today’s subject and I’m not someone who’s deeply knowledgeable or equipped to sing its praises at the moment. Maybe in the future though?

Is there anything else I can yammer on about with this fic? Uhhhh- Oh. I love how it uses the supporting cast. I think Val has a really excellent grasp on how to write Mukuro and Junko’s dynamic without dipping into the territory of DR3 where it just gets a bit uncomfortable. I think that’s better exemplified in one of her other fics rather than this story, but I still do love Mukuro’s portrayal and role in the story. This was my first time learning who Yasuke was, I hadn’t properly heard of Danganronpa Zero by this point so I was really confused as to who the hell he was. Certainly left a strong impression in the story though. I think Kaede’s sudden appearance and role in the plot progressing towards the stunning climax of Chapter 4 was really good!

I very often go back to Chapter 1, 4, and 5 whenever I need to go to relax before bed. I’ve reread this fic multiple times as a whole but an absolute fuck ton of times as separated pieces, they’re so god damn soothing on my mind.

The fact that I haven’t left giant fuckin’ comments on any chapter of that fic is quite frankly one of my deepest sins, but one of these days I’m gonna buckle down and write up on those because they deserve every ounce of praise in my scrawny lil whitegirl body.

I think I’ve said everything I can for now but even now I feel like I haven’t gotten across how much I love this fic. It genuinely is my favorite fanfiction out there both just for the quality of it’s writing and the comically massive influence it had on my life this year. If you somehow haven’t read it by now, please do, if you like the art I’ve drawn of this ship over the past 60 days I can almost 100% guarantee that you’ll like this story. And read the rest of Val’s fics too! Please!

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

#danganronpa #junkan #junko enoshima #mikan tsumiki #enomiki #junkomikan #junko x mikan #enoshima junko #tsumiki mikan #shipping

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andradrawsstuff · 7 months ago

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Uhhh who wants to see me analyse Skipper’s character bc I have tpom brainrot?

Oh boy, here I go again on another massive ramble that no one asked for, but I really wanna talk about his character since he’s my favourite and I haven’t seen many ppl analyse him so here I am doing this instead of actual assignments. I’m doing this mainly so I can finally get these stupid ideas out of my head more than anything else, but if anyone actually wants to read and discuss I would be HAPPY to talk about my favourite character more 😁

This little gremlin is funny as hell, but also one of the most complex characters in the Madagascar franchise. Bc good ol’ Tom stated the show could be an AU (and bc Skipper is just so different here compared to the movies) I’m gonna separate the two versions of him and analyse them separately. I’m gonna split it into two different posts for the sake of it not looking like a college essay (ps it’s still gonna look like a college essay). So part 1 will be about movie Skipper and part 2 will be about tv series Skipper.

Uhhhh so yeah who wants to see me write a whole mf essay on this guy 💀

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update:

Part 1

Part 2

#tpom #the penguins of madagascar #penguins of madagascar #tpom skipper #madagascar movie #character analysis #in this essay i will

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universaln0b0dy · 6 months ago

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rewriting miraculous- Marinette Dupain-cheng

[Note] Hey, hey! I wanted to start rewriting and designing miraculous for the fun of it. Please note that this is just for fun and giggles! I will try to keep the rewrite as close to the show as possible, at the same time I want to put as much of my ideas into it as I can. Also this is probably an angst au, because of my 3 am brainrot.

(Warning, if you are a fan of Chloe redemption arcs you might not like my rewrite as I plan on making Chloe the villain she has always deserved to be. And I mean that totally positive.)

Marinette Dupain-cheng

Of course I have to start with the problematic main character of the show. Marinette is far from perfect and her actions lack mind and consequences, but despite all of that Marinette is a great character that fell into the hands of a bad writer.

Like most characters in the show being kinda butchered for Marinette (they did Chat noir soo dirty), she was also butchered for the sake for being a main character. Marinette has a character that doesn't fit into a "kids show", maybe that's the reason they never properly executed it. But enough of me yapping! Lets start drawiting!

Backstory:

Marinette is half french, half chinese. I want to keep if that way, even her design mustn't change that much (more to that later). Something that bothered a lot of people is how little Marinette knows about/ is in touch with her chinese heritage, despite Sabine clearly still being chinese. But what a lot of people forget is that it's been hinted at that Sabine might not be as in touch with her past as she acts like she does. (For example changing her first name, I am not sure if that is something that happens commonly, but I don't think is.)

So one thing I will add is that while Sabine doesn't completely reject her culture, she has a strained relationship with it, not raising Marinette to be a part of it, without telling her why. No speaking mandarin, no chinese new years or other festivals, nothing.

So we already know that Tom and his dad don't have the best relationship and as far as I remember only one of Marinette grandma's visits, rarely. So in my version Marinette grew up only knowing about her parents, completely unaware of other relatives. Her grandma starts visiting when she is uhh 10? Which let her to be slightly an outcast.

You know how when children tell you all about the holidays, their aunts and uncles or grandparents? Or how even the teachers just tend to assume everyone has grandparents that you get to visit? Well Marinette had none of that. That means she was often confused or left out of conversations starting in pre-school.

Another aspect I want to include is the whole Kim/Chloe thing. It was often mentioned that Chloe used to bully Marinette to the point where she was sick of school and even starting her villain arc in a different universe. Problem is in the show this is a massive: "Tell don't show." I want to stop that, I want to have it actually seen and mentioned multiple times in flash backs, etc. Because with what we have at the moment I don't understand why all of Marinettes classmates hate Chloe so much.

With the worsening of the bullying I want to make another parallel between Shadybug and my Marinette. It is briefly mentioned that Shadybug doesn't have any friends in her universe and is constantly put down by Chloe, so what if because of chloe people avoided talking to Marinette in order not to become another bullying subject? This all changes when Alya (who actually in the start of the series was mentioned to be a new student?) decides to not give two fucks about Chloes status and defends Marinette, becoming her first ever friend.

About the Chloe Kim situation, I will use that as the reason (and Marinettes blatant distrust) why she became a stalker. Despite being bullied and all, Marinette develops a crush on Kim, because he was actually nice to her, like once. Her love quickly becomes an obsession because she doesn't know how to act around her crush, not having any female friends to tell her that the way she likes him isn't healthy and having a dad that cries wolf just as soon as she mentions a boy's name.

Marinette is during that time not as bad as she is with Adrien, her crush is unhealthy, yes, but he is sadly the last straw of hope she can cling too. Chloe notices this and decides to take advantage of Marinettes obsession by asking Kim to go out with Marinette. Blinded by his crush on the blonde Kim decides that would be a small sacrifice, ready to become Marinettes dream boy to please Chloe. He feigns intrest in design, art, baking and more simply because Chloe wants him too.

Marinette starts to act more normal around Kim, her obsession calming and her healthily starting to love him, until the scene in the swimming hall. Marinette is quite littarly shattered, her heart in pieces all over the floor, realising she had been bamboozled for 3 MONTHS. Her last straw has sunken and she swears to herself that she won't ever date someone again unless she knows that every little thing he has said was true.

A year later she finally meets Alya.

Her Personality

(start of season 1 to season 3)

Marinette is still kind, but in a way that makes her naive. After Alya fights with Chloe for her sake and the other girls in class also start to befriend her, she is willing to forgive and forget. Her friendship is build on trust and acts of service (Fixing clothes, building charms, doing homework) with Marinette giving and the others receiving. Sadly the others unbeknownst to even themselves take advantage of her kindness until Alya bursts in and calls out what their doing is wrong.

Clumsy. Insecurities can make you anxious and being anxious has an affect on the body. During the time she was bullied she would cower in fear only making small steps looking around as if something was going to jump at her. So scared of her surroundings she occasionally lost footing or dropped everything she was holding. It looks comedic but stomps from her damaged mindset.

Stubborn. What she says she will do, no matter if that is climbing the Eiffel tower or travelling to china in a day by foot, she will do it. Her stubbornness comes from the fact that she refuses to believe that what she is planning is impossible, stemming from the fact her parents kinda spoiled her and refused to tell her that what she was doing is impossible.

Crush is followed by distrust and obsession. This is something that plays a big part in my au. Marinette has trouble trusting people she is crushing on, it even happens with Luka, but the blue haired boy is a lot more obvious to this when Adrien. Marinette isn't really fine and probably needs therapy. Even Marinette doesn't understand why she feels so anxious about every time her crush says something, she blames it on her promise to herself.

Clingy and easily scared of rejection. Because of her being formally bullied Marinette clings to people she trusts, Alya doesn't mind, but that doesn't go for a few other people. Marinette doesn't like rejection (not taking stuff she made, not wanting her help etc) , occasionally she can either become pushy or completely reduce herself out of your life.

Easily jealous and occasionally selfish. This personality trait will be important for my kwami redesign. Marinette can't help it but be wary of people that also show interest in her crush or intrests, she grows jealous easily though she tries to hide it. Because she never had anyone to talk to about her jealousy before she met Alya, so she thinks that that emotion is just another feeling, that eats away at her until it explodes. Her jealousy blinds her causing her to act irrational even willing to humiliate people.

Optimistic but toxic . Well, she is a good liar and that includes lying to herself.

(As Ladybug)

Oho, Marinette as Ladybug is a surprising change, I kinda wanted add the fact to her that her personality changes when she becomes Ladybug.

Ladybug is the part of Marinette that was looked away for waaaay too long. After she gets used to being Ladybug she grows confident, she feels like she has a purpose in life. Ladybug is everything she wanted to be. Ladybug has no fear and no insecurities that is the reason why no one believes Marinette is Ladybug.

In my au Marinette gets so lost in the perfect version of herself she occasionally transforms just to escape her life. She has friends now, yes, but that doesn't get rid of her insecurities and Ladybug has no insecurities.

As a hero Marinette is a quick thinker and has a great memory (I mean, she was able to remember and find out adriens schedule for the next 50 years). She also knows where to get information and how.

She uses everything she learned as Marinette in her superhero job and as Ladybug she moves with more contraction and grace. No one would dare to laugh at Ladybug and that makes her stand up straight, make bigger movements and never loose her footing.

She is incredibly caring as Ladybug at the same time she isn't. She only is nice to people she as Marinette likes or has never met. Chloe is the person she even occasionally refuses to help, until chat noir mentions just how much of an asshole she would be for this.

(During season 3-5)

Because of the many hardships she faces Marinette grows as a person, her personality towns down and she deals with the consequences of her actions in a good manner. Even as Ladybug she became less of a selfish prick and someone to be idolized.

Smart. Marinette becomes smarter in many ways, one of them is people smart. She is able to start telling if someone is on the verge of getting akumatised, or if they are lying to her. She does better in school mainly because she stopped getting bullied.

Confident. Her straightened back is more than enough proof that Marinette has changed. She has found a balance between Ladybug and Marinette. She starts standing up to Chloe on her own and everyone else who bothers her. This confidence makes her cocky, but luckily her friends are there to help her turn it down a bit.

Mature. Marinette acts older than she is, especially after getting the miraculous box. She finally realizes that she won't be able to act as childish as she does forever. Her maturing also becomes part of her healing arc. She still has a crush on Adrien, but she grows less obsessive and is even able to see him have Kagami as a girlfriend without feeling like dying.

Drawing:

Don't mind this, I am still learning how to draw, so this will probably look akward. Soo I kinda wanted normal Marinette to look like she was styled by Disney, but not too bad. Her styling her clothes like she does is her way of showing she likes fashion, without showing she likes fashion. Her hair is supposed to be so black it seems blue under light, which is honestly a hair colour that surprises me.

Ladybug follows the concept of the more power you have, the more you look like the animal your kwami is based on. (More to this when I rewrite the kwami's)

I like the poncho I gave her and the wings! Also the Uhh... bug exo skin? She probably doesn't stand out as much as she should, but her costume is that one connection to herself as Marinette.

Soo here is what I tried to "animate", Marinette looks a lot more stressed and less "happy" and as Ladybug she has some slight arrogance and anger to her expression, though I might be reading into my designs too much. Please tell me which you like better!

So next is well, Adrien! Yay! Please tell me what you think so far and what else I should include during those rewriting sessions?

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #miraculous au #marinette dupain cheng #marinette redesign #mlb rewrite #mlb redesign #ladybug and chat noir #ladybug redesign #lol #just a thought #mlb au: the superior hero

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eggroll-sama · 8 months ago

Note

Heyyyoooo

Just a thought, how long do you think mc was asleep/unconscious in kuras' clinic?

They couldn't have been out in the fogfall for too long since they didn't die of blood loss (or maybe they just can't 👀)

I just found your acc and I can't wait to binge read your masterlist :)

-egg anon

Hi egg anon! AHHH, thanks for your ask, it’s my first ask I’ve ever gotten for Touchstarved ToT. I hope more people would slide into my DMs, I really don’t mind since I’m in a massive TS brainrot at the current moment. Now then, let's get right into it. Btw I don't have any credentials to show for the research, all from Google baby.

Warning: Mentions of blood, graphic violence

I’m going to say that MC was roughly out of commission for 10-12 hours.

When MC gets their first look at the city of Eridia, it's dusk, stars in the sky, the moon rising from the east, and the horizon a reddish glow. It can't be sunrise because scientifically colder temperatures make the sky less red and orangey during sunrises. There isn't any verbal indication what time it is, but we can predict it was 6-8PM when the caravan was attacked by the Soulless. Eridia seems to have a maritime climates: cloudy weather, frequent rainfall/precipitation, and mild temperatures, like IRL Ireland, Scandinavia, Belgium, and the 6-8 PM time frame is usually when the sunsets for those regions. Let’s choose 8 PM.

Now as for how long MC was in this position is interesting. When Kuras found us, we were barely clinging to life, face-down in "murky, shallow water." MC is really lucky that they survived because an infection in the wilderness greatly increases your mortality rates. We can at least thank the Soulless' sharp claws for slicing the arm clean off since if it was an angled, ragged cut would increase blood loss. I have heard of survival stories of people angling their arms towards the sky to decrease blood loss, but no, MC's body was half-submerged in water. If MC is really a half-Monster like some theories suggest, than there's a possibility they are more resilient, lasting one to two more hours, compared to the avg humans that can die in less than five minutes. That could be why Kuras is so fascinated with you too, not just for the cursed arms, but there was almost no way you could've survived with all the odds against you. I also don't think we stayed out there longer than one to two hours because an amputated arm is only good for four to six hours before you can reattach them. And considering Kuras' eldritch instincts, I can't see being out there for longer than two hours max.

So let's say Kuras finds MC around 9-10 PM at the wastes. He takes them to the clinic and reattaches the arm using his magic. We are then asleep overnight, approximately 10 hours, naked with only a cold linen sheet on a cot, before we wake up. Tbh I don't know which is worse: if Kuras left us there while we were asleep or just did paperwork while we were lying practically naked right next to him till we woke up the next morning. Good thing Kuras isn't a pervert (?)

(A/N: also not even a blanket??? Unless he was keeping the room toasty with his powers, thanks I guess, Mr Sunny D)

Why I think we were down for around 10 hours is for a few reasons.

Most obvious one: When we went inside the Wet Wick, MC mentions they were surprised at the amount of people when it wasn't even mid-day (12 PM). So maybe it's around 10 AM, maybe even earlier than that.

The impatient knock from the front door is an indicator that Kuras was taking longer than he usually did, but not too long for people to start yelling. Maybe his clinic has an official starting time, and so citizens wake up early to wait in line outside till it officially starts. But with MC taking up the only cot in the clinic and sleeping there for the entire night, he had to start a little later, hence people getting annoyed cuz they woke up super early to wait in line, but Kuras hasn't let people in yet.

MC got super hungry at the vendors, which makes sense since they haven't eaten for so long.

So yeah, this is all I've got for MC's timeline from when the Soulless attacked and when they woke up. I have read other theories saying it was Ais' who found us and brought us to Kuras' clinic which is an interesting take, but for the sake with what we are given for now Kuras was the one that saved you.

#touchstarved game #kuras #touchstarved kuras #kuras touchstarved #touchstarved theory

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hostess-of-horror · 19 days ago

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I just had this AU idea all day today and I am so brainrotted right now that I need to put this down on a post. I haven't figured out a whole lot but at least it's enough to get the idea.

L'Opéra Numérique

(or The Amazing Digital Opera)

- A TADC AU that's heavily inspired by Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera but not verbatim

- Reeks of Showtime, as Pomni and Caine are the two main stars: Christine Daae and Erik the Phantom

- Takes place in L'Opéra Numérique where everyone is part of a massive opera house with Caine being the Host (Opera Ghost) that "haunts" it

- L'Opéra Numérique is a literal labyrinth (🎶where night is bliiiind~🎶) and has no exit that anyone knows of; every path circles back to the main theatre

- Pomni, like the show, is the most recent arrival and becomes a wildly popular soprano, replacing Jax as the main star

- This leads to Pomni being the Host's object of affection, tutoring her in the hopes of making her a national treasure within the digital world

- While everyone plays along, Pomni becomes an "agent" for the rest of the gang in the hopes of figuring out who this Host is and how to escape the Opera

- The Gang all plan to have Pomni visit the Host, which leads to the iconic Mirror Scene as well as the Phantom's Lair and Unmasking Scene (🎶Music of the Niiiiiight!🎶)

- Unlike the source material, there is no "Raoul" for Pomni; only her newfound friends

- The main romance is the tragic love story between Caine and Pomni, where Caine obsesses over her to the point of madness and Pomni pities him despite the circumstances

- Caine as the Phantom is deformed a la abstraction, with his glowing eyes and sharp teeth exposed like a dark eldritch horror

- The Gang's plan for Pomni are all written in multiple notes, passed around by each member of the Opera as to not let Caine figure out what they're doing (🎶far too many notes for my taste...🎶)

- Of course, Caine does in fact find those notes and things go south real fucking fast.

- Since no one can die in the digital world, Caine's Punjab Lasso (noose) paralyzes the victim rather than strangle them to death

- Caine still drops the chandelier though... a few times, actually!

- When Caine hosts a Masquerade party, he reveals himself to everyone in his "Blue Screen of Death" costume (🎶 Why so silent, good monsieurs? 🎶)

- Did I mention Bubble is the Daroga in this AU? Because Bubble is the Daroga in this AU.

- So, Bubble is basically a NPC controlled by an investigator who was trying to release the missing people (Pomni and the Gang)

- Turns out Bubble and Caine knew each other personally outside of the digital world, but Caine has been the Host of the Opera for God knows how long that he has completely forgotten who he was before

- Oh yeah, Caine is NOT an AI in this AU! He was actually a game developer who was rejected multiple times until he eventually got stuck inside his own creation (I haven't gotten the full story so bear with me here)

- So while that's being revealed, Caine does his Phantom thing and writes an opera where he and Pomni fall in love (🎶Past the Point of No Return 🎶) until Pomni reveals his face

- Final Lair ensues, which leads to Bubble and the Gang being trapped and tortured until Pomni agrees to marry Caine via turning the Scorpion (the Grasshopper would crash the whole Opera)

- The story ends with Caine releasing everyone, including Pomni, and telling Bubble/the investigator how having Pomni as his bride made him remember what he had lost ("I! I! ...I kissed her! And she did not die of horror!") and thus destroying L'Opéra Numérique and himself

#The Amazing Digital Circus #TADC #TADC AU #L'Opéra Numérique #The Amazing Digital Opera AU #phantom of the opera #pomni x caine #tadc showtime #showtime #my ramblings

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rottingfern · 1 year ago

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sweetened breath, tongue so mean || a Bad Omens fanfic

Pairing: Noah x nonbinary OC

Summary: They're screaming at each other. They're throwing hands. They're half a second away from a violent hatefuck. And at the end of the day, they'll still call each other friends.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: ANGST, toxic relationship, language, heavy consumption of alcohol, degradation kink if you squint, brief discussion of body image, OC gets deadnamed, depiction of a panic attack, choking, cunnilingus, penetration, hair pulling, slightly dubious consent, spitting.

A/N: Wow do I love angst. But be warned going into this: THESE BITCHES IS TOXIC. Noah is not a very nice person in this, and neither is OC. This fic does not depict a healthy relationship. This is a work of fiction depicting a fictionalized version of Noah and does not represent him in real life.

A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @signs-of-ill-portent AND @the-way-of-words FOR BETA-ING THIS FIC AND SCREAMING ABOUT IT WITH ME, for getting on my characters' levels with me and for egging me on to delve as deep and dark as I needed for this fic, for not allowing me to mince words and for listening to me catastrophize about the story beats as I figured out how to convey all the nuance this fic needed. Y'all really did the most when you didn't have to, and I AM EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO YOU FOR THAT! My heart eyes are laser focused on you.

Brainrot Club: @meekahy @foliosriot @badhedonist Theme song is Hatef--k by The Bravery. I actually made a whole playlist! Click here to listen. Masterlist here.

Title taken from Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier; banner made by me; dividers by @saradika

Lee’s just about done with this show (though it hasn’t even begun) when their shoulders hit the poorly finished wall of the back hallway of the venue.

His lips are searing, supple and wet and clingy as they suck to their own. They clench their teeth shut at the insistent push of his tongue past their lips, demanding entry into their mouth. Maybe this whole moment - the hands on their shoulders, the thigh between their knees, pinned between drywall and a solid mass of body heat and want - would be hot, desirable even, had it all not belonged to the one shithead they’d been hoping to avoid tonight.

Of course, Lee would have more luck surviving a plane crash into the ocean than avoiding a shithead when said shithead is Noah Sebastian Davis. This whole situation is vomit-inducing. Embarrassing, honestly. They push on his chest, hard, like their life depends on it.

“God, knew you’d want it,” Noah pants when Lee finally manages to separate his suction cup of a mouth from theirs, his shit-eating grin planted firmly like he’d done something - whether he meant to be sexy or purposely disgusting, they’re not sure - and it doesn’t help he hasn’t learned to be less cryptic since they’d seen him last. “What, no ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’?” Lee shoots back. They’d backpedaled out that green room as soon as the members of their entourage were occupied by conversation, though they really should’ve expected this. Noah following them down dimly lit hallways with dishonorable purpose is par for the course. “Didn’t think I’d need one. Once a slut, always a slut.” His chuckle is like shattering ice, each shard aimed at Lee. “Isn’t that right, Leanne?”

Noah hasn’t changed in the ten years since they’d met, and Lee isn’t about to let the persistent press of his thick, hard cock against their stomach through layers of denim and terry cloth (or the way an engine downstairs springs to life when they feel it) change their opinion of him: that he’s a shithead through and through, cocky in the worst kind of way, hell-sent the day he was born when the universe decided not only to make him a bigheaded fool but also to let him win the genetic lottery in one fell swoop.

Doesn’t stop the clench of their cunt that they struggle to suppress. Doesn’t prevent the mental scolding they’re forced to give themself: the chaos monster that is Noah Davis’s entire being isn’t worth dealing with for even a hookup. It’s pathetic, tacky even.

Something primal, old and hungry flashes in the glassy gel of Noah’s eyes when he forces Lee’s gaze to his, fingers hooked firmly round their jaw; something uncontrollably soft in the way his jaw trembles to mirror Lee’s own when he grazes their hip with his free hand, when he presses his thumb firmly to their clit through the denim of their shorts.

There are a million things Lee could’ve picked from the Rolodex of elaborate insults soaked in a decade of contentious acquaintanceship they’ve stored specifically to knock Noah off his self-appointed pedestal, if only the butterflies insistently bubbling below their gut would just shut the fuck up for a single second. Could’ve, had Noah’s propensity to always control every situation so it goes his way not also applied to their own bodily function, apparently. Instead, they lower their chin, defiantly forcing his grip on their throat to tighten.

Dangerous mistake. Stupid fucking mistake, because their hips buck forward along his thigh at the pressure, just an inch, and Noah’s smile widens dangerously, and oh. Oh no. They know this look, and the words that are bound to slip from his mouth in three, two -

Like a miracle from God or whatever the fuck other omnipotent being lives in the sky, a shout of their name echoes through the corridors. Noah’s hands find Lee’s shoulders again, head dipping once more as their own hands push desperately against his chest in a mad scramble for dominance and escape. They will not be caught - will not be seen - kissing Noah fucking Davis in front of their coworkers. No fucking way. Gag. Although…

It does feel nice to be wanted, and it’s been so, so long since they’ve allowed themself this - no strings, mindless, just a quick way to get theirs. How long has it been? Since before they got sick, since before they put on the weight, surely. And Noah throws them around so effortlessly, they didn’t even feel that hot sting of insecurity as his hands ran down their body just minutes ago. And it’s not like they aren’t attracted to him, as long as he doesn’t speak. He’s always been hot - even Lee’s freshly-eighteen mind had been excited by the idea of snapping his scrawny little bones with their bare hands back then. And he’s only gotten hotter, with that fucking haircut and the way his once-concave pecs now ripple with muscle under their palms.

So, what’s the holdup? It’s not like the two of them haven’t done this before. It would be so easy: they give Noah what he wants, they get theirs, then they never have to see each other again (at least not for another three years or four years, likely). Why shouldn’t they just let him kiss them again?

“Lee!” comes another shout, snapping Lee from their reverie. It’s closer, the sound of footsteps to match echoing just around the corner now.

Their wandering mind had loosened their push on Noah’s chest to a caress, but now they use his momentary distraction to force him from them with all their might once again, schooling their stance into a casual side-lean against the wall just seconds before their friends round the corner.

“There you are,” Mike sighs. “C’mon, bitch, we don’t wanna miss the openers!” As Lee follows Mike and Noor out to the floor, they toss a playful smirk over their shoulder, but Noah’s already replaced his mask of impassiveness, arms crossed sternly with clenched fists. His loss.

Noor’s laserlike gaze scans Lee as they collect their drinks from the bar. “Have a sweet reunion?” she asks.

Lee huffs. They get enough of this shit from her at home, at work, basically everywhere. They love Noor, truly, but she’s impossible to fool and Lee really doesn’t need her picking around their brain when they themself don’t have a full understanding of what’s brewing in there.

“Sweet as fucking vinegar,” they instead reply, eyes rolling demonstratively. Noor’s lips purse in suspicion, so they turn away before she can do that fucking clairvoyant inspection of details thing she does, leading them back through the crowd to their coworkers.

It’s not that Lee is stupid enough to truly believe they’d manage to avoid Noah at a Bad Omens show - rather that they’d have elected to straight up Not Attend were the outing not made mandatory by their boss.

Mercury Hall is the largest venue in Burlington - a mid-size club with two balconies, standing thirty years with a stellar reputation to boot - but behind the scenes, despite a revolving door of staff, Mercury regularly employs a group of college kids who collectively have the common sense of a single person. Not that it’s surprising, really, considering Burlington houses two universities and both offer a “music business” major. Lee thinks Mercury should be hiring communications majors instead - maybe that’d fix their massive communication problem.

Ouroboros - Lee’s place of gainful employment - is a smaller club on the other side of Downtown, and has absolutely no affiliation with Mercury… except that the owners of the two clubs go way back, oldheads who’ve been buddies since school and all that, and Lee’s boss regularly makes any problems down at Mercury his problem.

Or, the problem of his long-suffering staff, to be precise.

Just like last week, for example, when Lee was just trying to sort out next month’s scheduling while jamming to some ABBA, and was interrupted by their boss Roy roping them into solving the issue with Mercury’s scheduling instead, on only a week’s notice.

Really, the solution was a no brainer. One band was not local and on a tightly-scheduled tour; the other - from just three hours south in Boston, were playing just a one-off gig. Ask the Boston guys to move to the following night - they’d get a Friday spot anyway, way better deal. Enlist Mike and Noor to assist with rescheduling the hired crew to Friday. It helped immensely that the Boston guys only recently graduated to playing Mercury, that Lee knew them from their years of traveling up to play Ouroboros. The other band was Bad Omens. So, really, Noah should be thanking Lee.

Thanks only came in the form of Hank, Mercury’s owner, interrupting their pre-show planning meeting two days ago to inform Ouroboros staff they’d been guest-listed for the Bad Omens gig. Lee thought better thanks would’ve come in the form of Hank hiring staff capable of doing their jobs, and stands by that opinion.

Excited chatter had erupted the minute Hank shut the door behind him - it’s a rare occasion that a decent metalcore act rolls through Burlington - but Lee could only focus on the cold pit that opened in their stomach at the thought of seeing Noah again. Later that night, they’d get disastrously wine-drunk with Noor on their ratty porch couch and lament on the absolute asshole that was Noah Sebastian Davis, but in that moment they only sat blank, nodding along obediently, as Roy instructed them to attend Hank’s “extremely generous offering”.

The issue isn’t going to the Bad Omens gig, because if there’s one positive thing they can say about Noah it’s that he really hit his stride with this project and Lee respects the grind. Nor is it the idea of being in the same room as him; it’s not like they haven’t been around him plenty and willingly over the past decade between touring through RVA with their college band, and in the multiple shared friend groups they’d amassed over the years.

Noah’s annoying as all hell: the kind of person who says and does whatever, whenever the hell he wants, who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, who will unapologetically push forward if it pleases him. And, apparently and unfortunately for Lee, his biggest pleasure is making them absolutely fucking miserable whenever they’re in proximity of one another. And especially unfortunately, he knows exactly how to push Lee’s buttons, which ones to push, and how to drive them to absolute breaking point.

And, his greatest pleasure is knowing Lee will just hatefuck him when they get too fed up. Lee would bet their life savings (spoiler: not much) that he was one of those kids who pulled all the girls’ pigtails on the playground.

Going into the evening, Lee’s biggest issue was just that: that they’d snap at him in front of their coworkers, that Roy or Hank would clock the familiarity and fire them or something, that they’d get overwhelmed and just fucking cry. Dealing with Noah’s antics was even a knife’s edge in the past, in casual environments where their friends would laugh it off as “Noah and Leanne bullshit”, when they’d had security in their identity and image.

In the now times however, with their confidence dropped to near-zero, with meds that make them burst to tears at any strong enough emotion, with a fragile half-decades acceptance of their queer identity (and Noah’s inability to fucking catch on and stop misgendering them), Lee wasn’t certain they’d be able to handle the pressure of the battle of wills Noah insisted on having each time they met.

Now, as the giant party of the Ouroboros staff, the touring party, and those of the Mercury staff who are legal to drink head to the Archives for after-hours drinks, Lee’s issue is that they’re actually enjoying themself because Resident Shithead Noah Sebastian Davis is being actually fucking pleasant. And they’re really not sure how to deal with that. It’s new territory. A no-person’s land, if you will.

He’d slowed down to where Lee trailed behind the rest of the group, likely sick of tripping over Church Street’s uneven cobblestones trying to keep up with Joakim’s (they refuse to call him Jolly. What the fuck kind of grown man calls himself Jolly?) speed racer pace. “Hey,” he says quietly.

Lee releases a long-suffering sigh. “Hi, Noah.”

They walk silently beside each other for a few minutes. From the corner of their eye as they tilt their head back to admire this year’s lighted arches, Lee sees Noah fidget uncomfortably. They’re seconds from spitting out an out with it, already when he finally asks, “So, archaeology was a bust, huh?”

Here we fucking go. They’ve decided their Rolodex of insults is useless and resort to just tossing him a nasty look, a roll of the eyes, and to speed up to walk with Mike, Noor and Folio when he hurriedly follows up with, “Only you seemed so excited about your degree.” He sports an unfamiliar expression Lee has never seen him wear (is it sheepishness? abashedness?), head dipped low. “Y’know. Back then.”

Lee’s brain is short circuiting. That’s the only explanation for the wall of static and dial-up tones smashcut with thirty different trains of thought that occupies it and allows them to respond only with a blank look and a dumb-sounding “oh” because, did Noah actually just ask them about their life?????

Since when did he give a flying fuck about anything but making their night hell? All Noah Sebastian Davis cares about is his boys, his music, and getting his. But, it makes sense, right, since the last time they saw each other was at a holiday party and barely spoke at all - maybe he is just curious. He’s being pleasant, but to what end? When does the other shoe drop?

Or, a small part of their brain whispers, maybe he’s finally grown up. He does look awfully sincere, chocolate eyes wide with concern. “Just didn’t work out,” Lee shrugs, electing to open up. “For a lot of reasons. Mostly because, I guess I didn’t love it enough to work up to the fun stuff once I started getting hired.” A bitter, self-deprecating chuckle escapes their throat way too loudly for comfort.

The group has reached the Archives now, and Lee sends a short nod in response to Noor’s concerned glance as she hesitates behind Mike at the bar door. They light a cigarette and lean against the wall, shuffling their foot along the pavement awkwardly. Lee tosses their gaze back up when Noah’s shoes stop before them. He’s open, inquisitive, and they can’t help but relax into it, dumping the rest out: “It’s a lot of travel. And my aunt was sick…”

They choke on the rest, and are suddenly enveloped in possibly the most comforting, needed hug they’ve received since she died.

“My mom, too, recently,” Noah eventually lets out, voice matching Lee’s choke. He presses them harder to his chest, holding them, clinging, letting Lee soak his shirt as they rock back and forth.

They break away from each other after a few minutes, Noah turning to let Lee try to wipe their tears without ruining their eyeliner as he swipes his own away with the heels of his palms. They turn back to each other with tight, abashed closed-mouth half-smiles, letting out matching embarrassed chuckles.

He slumps against the wall and they stand, shoulders grazing, gazing at the night sky. “Y’know, it’s strange to see you here, because I associate Philly with you first, Leanne,” Noah ponders lazily, “But Vermont strangely suits you.”

There’s that bitter feeling again. Lee lights another smoke (having lost their previous to the hug) and follows the smoke trail as it draws circles around the distant stars above, shining bright as though they’re watching from somewhere far, far from civilization.

There’s something you don’t get in Philly - that feeling of awe, of being just a molecule amidst the inconceivable mass of this universe, of every worry and problem being an ant to a continent, and you’re just trying to live your life to survive to the next and the most you can do is just live and love it. There’s something they’d missed for years being away from the far Northeast, something they take for granted until quiet, gentle moments like this. They don’t share any of that with Noah. Instead, they reply: “Noor’s rich parents bought her a house here, and she took me with her.”

“How long?” Noah sighs. He sounds dreamy, on the verge of sleep, eyes closed, body leaning firmly against theirs.

“Nearly five years, now.”

Noah’s eyes snap open, a smirk spreading his face like wildfire, words flowing faster than Lee can even brace for the hit. “Five years of Vermont Cheddar’s done wonders for that ass,” he snarks.

There it fucking is, the other fucking shoe. Leave it to him to open his stupid fucking mouth at a moment like this. Here they are, opening up about shit they’d barely even told their best friend, crying about their dead family together, and he’s making caveman-brain comments about their body.

Lee kicks off the wall, dislodging Noah’s resting body, flicking their unfinished cigarette at the ground. If there’s a God, he’ll make the ash ruin Noah’s squeaky-clean white Vans.

They feel an absolute idiot for trusting this idiot, for choosing these feelings to entrust to him. Should’ve known better. “With as much disrespect as possible: fuck you, Noah,” Lee spits at Noah’s stumbling form before jerking open the bar door, slamming it shut behind them.

Note to future self (which will inevitably be forgotten and ignored): beware the Archives after hours - it’s completely shot and always devolves to the same bullshit. Yes, every time. Do not be fooled by the arcade machines - they are half broken and will not save you.

Hank and Roy left after chugging their first and only beers in under a minute the way Frank and Charlie shovel down cat food before bed on Always Sunny. Mike’s sniffed out that one gruff DL crew guy that’s seemingly copy-pasted onto each tour that comes through town and is working on enticing him to go back to his place above Ouroboros with that fucking slick grin of his (“It’s only around the corner, they’ll be none the wiser”). Nobody’s behind the bar, because it’s easier for Donny to just let people serve themselves - not like afterhours is official or legal here, anyway - so why would he bother serving?

Everyone’s broken off into small groups or pairs, and Lee? Lee’s nursing their fourth whiskey, stuck finishing the shitty fries Noor always orders after she’s had her first drink, the same shitty ones she eats like, five of before pushing them away in disgust.

The floor is sticky, left to be cleaned by the opening staff, and more than half the bar’s got their wax pens out, making the whole place smell like wet dog. Like the top note of a sick perfume resting above the heart note of the sweat of thirty slightly-too-warm people. Eau de metalhead. They really oughta turn off the heat in this place already - it’s fucking June.

It’s not the heat that’s got Lee absolutely boiling, though, no, that would be too simple. It’s that among this absolute hellscape, Noah is ten feet away, laughing like all that shit outside just didn’t happen. He’s fucking with the glitchy Ms. Pac-Man machine with Nicholas. He’s shotgunning beers with Mike and Mike’s newest conquest. He’s not looking at Lee.

“- and after all that, like we had a moment, and after all that -” Lee laments to Noor, “For fuck’s sake, bitch, will you quit making eyes at Folio for one second?”

Greta Van Fleet’s “Heat Above” is playing over the tinny speaker, and Noor’s distracted “uh huh” as she bops along is tell enough for Lee. The bitch is gone.

“Fuck’s sake, Noor, you really gotta fuck the drummer every time?” Lee hisses, reaching blindly behind the bar for the whiskey they’d set in arm’s reach. Noor doesn’t hear them. Noor is too busy being her beautiful self, flicking a chunk of perfect raven curls behind her shoulder. Lee watches in horror as Folio presents the other tell that Noor’s one-hundred-percent gone for the night, something Lee has only seen happen genuinely, unironically in two situations - one in movies, and the other when Noor flirts with men: Folio fucking wiggles his eyebrows at her.

There’s the whiskey. Goddamn, do they need another drink. Somewhere behind them, Noah cackles. Nails on a fucking chalkboard.

Can you hear that dreadful sound? Fire still burning on the ground, Josh Kiszka screeches. You, or the other one, Josh? thinks Lee as they pour themselves another drink.

They turn, ready to shoot Noah a dirty look, and the fucker winks at them. They down their three fingers in one go and push off their stool towards the toilets.

Their vision swims, not from the five whiskeys, not from getting up too quickly, but from the pins and needles of bitter fury tearing at their chest.

It’s not that Noah’s enjoying himself. Good for him. It’s not that he’d been a vulgar dick, either, because they’re pretty sure that wasn’t the first time they’d gotten the “wonders for your ass” dig from him before.

It’s that they’d allowed him a single moment of benignant sincerity for probably the first time ever, let him in, showed their tender belly, and then he’d gone and stabbed them where they’re most vulnerable. That he’d pissed on any genuine connection they’d been building up to then.

It’s not that Noah was an asshole tonight, that will never change. That’s the sky blue. It’s that this time, Noah actually hurt their feelings.

Lee shuts the bathroom door with their back, melds themself against the metal, digging the heels of their palms into their eyes as they let out a dry, heavy, tear-less sob. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale -

The second sob drags up with it hot spittle, sending them coughing and gagging into the sink. It’s that it’s all their own fault for letting him in, for getting comfortable in the first place. That’s what you get when you let Noah in.

How fucking shot in the head do they have to be to expect anything less than this bullshit? Because this isn’t how someone with an ounce of sensibility would handle this, right? RIGHT?! Hey, let’s go trauma dump on this dude who’s never had a kind thing to say to you. Let’s go talk about our feeeeeeelings with the guy who still deadnames you FOUR years after you changed it everywhere. Oh, he gave you a hug? Oh, he shared his little emo feels with you too? Awwww. Ohhhh. Cute. Fucking. Idiot.

Their eyeliner is smeared, their skin blotchy and red, and their hair absolutely refuses to lay well despite all their efforts to make it behave. Under the overly-bright fluorescent lighting, they can see the blue of the vein bulging in their forehead. They look like they’ve been beaten, or fucked, or both at once. Lee swears their reflection grins at them then.

They need to clean themself up and get another drink, and then they need to punch Noah in his stupid, smug, sexy face. Another dry heave works up their throat. No, no, this isn’t right. This is neither healthy nor productive. They can’t keep going on like this, can’t keep allowing themself in situations where the rage literally makes them sick.

Lee sighs, rubbing a hand over their tired face, presentability be damned. They need to go home; just crawl into bed and sleep it off and avoid any gatherings Noah might be at forever. They should probably cut off their mutual friends, too and never step foot in Richmond again, or L.A. for that matter, though they’d never willingly end up in that helltown, anyway.

Home. Bed. Sleep. Never see Noah again.

But when they swing open the bathroom door, he’s on the other side.

There’s a beat as he takes them in, and a small part of Lee thinks, hopes, prays he’ll grant mercy this time. Just this once. Look at me. Please. Mercy.

But prayer’s so unreliable, and Noah is so, so consistent. “Lookin’ good, doll,” mocks the physical manifestation of No Sense Of Time And Place. “Whoa -”

This is it. Their chest is exploding, they can’t breathe, they’ve lost their eyesight. This is how they die.

Noah catches their wrist inches from his face before Lee even realizes they’ve swung.

They let out a hysterical laugh, ripping their arm from his like it’s a third-degree burn, backpedaling so fast from his advance they nearly trip over their own legs.

He’s all, “hey, whoa,” he’s all, “hey, Leanne,” but they’re too busy contending with the fact that each breath feels like a leaf blower full of nails tearing their windpipe. “Leanne, what -” he says, but they knew this wasn’t normal the moment Noah started grabbing at their shoulders, at their face, the moment they couldn’t hear him pleading for them to get themself together. “Leanne, c’mon, Leanne, please,” he’s begging somewhere, but they can’t stop fucking laughing.

God, but doesn’t he sound so tender, so pretty when he pleads?

This isn’t normal, right? Like, what’s that saying about doing the same thing over and over? Right?????? And now there’s godforsaken tears pricking at their eyes and they can’t stop and -

They need him to stop. They need him to shut up, and they need him out of their field of vision. But he keeps getting in front of them, putting his hands on them and Lee wants them off but they can’t feel their hands -

Someone’s released an anguished, animalistic scream somewhere. Everything’s too tight. There’s arms caging them in, they need out, they need escape why are there arms fucking everywhere -

“Fucking, ow!” Noah’s left hand flies up to nurse his jaw where they’d managed to catch him, but the right finds purchase in their hair immediately, like it’s an instinct, like it belongs there. He yanks, hard, forcing their face to his as he crowds them against the sink.

There’s something grounding, calming in the pain at the back of their head, something reassuring in the way he’d tear their hair out at a moment’s notice. He’s so close they can smell the spearmint of the gum he’d been chewing under the liquor and smoke, nose nearly pressed to theirs. His hair tickles their cheekbones like a balm, like a promise.

He’s a vision of fury, all tightly clenched jaw and steely eyes, scrunched nose and furrowed brows. “What the fuck is your problem?” he sternly asks, voice quiet, chillingly flat.

An involuntary, scornful bark of a laugh escapes Lee’s throat. “You wanna know my problem? YOU’RE my fucking problem! I haven’t known a moment of peace since I met you!” they shout through their sob-torn throat. The dam bursts, there’s no stopping this train now, whichever metaphor you prefer. “You’re absolutely insufferable! No regard for anyone but yourself! You wanna know why people leave you in the dust and never look back? Because you’re the fucking worst! You’re a fucking mistake!”

Noah’s mouth twists that smirk again, the one Lee has been on the receiving end of too many times tonight, but there’s no joy behind it; his eyes are empty and cold and tinged red, omnipotent in the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t even need to say it. That cruel twist of his mouth is enough. Takes one to know one.

His lips are on Lee’s in an instant, barely connected for a second before he forces his tongue past their teeth, his free hand wandering anywhere he can reach. His hips push them into the porcelain, fingers brushing up the exposed skin of their belly, hand sliding overtop their binder. A harsh breath huffs out his nose as he passes a thumb over their hard nipple through the thick fabric, pulling a tiny, pathetic whine from Lee’s throat.

There’s a beat when he pulls their head an inch back, hovering by their ear once more, hips giving a miniscule, barely there roll. Then, in a movement so quick Lee can barely acknowledge it happened, he rips their arm round their back, flipping them so fast they’d faceplant into the mirror were it not for the grip he keeps steady on their head, fingers tangled in their hair, nails digging at their scalp. Hips press them into the edge of the sink, fingers pull their head to his shoulder, the arch lighting a tight burn in their spine.

Mirror Lee looks like roadkill, and Mirror Noah looks like the vulture circling round their corpse, towering over them voraciously.

He rolls his hard, clothed cock into the small of their back. “Look at what you do to me,” he croons. A hand trailing fingers dangerously slow up their bare leg. “Look at what a mess you are.” His hand trails lazily from their hair to their throat, nestling there like a puzzle piece fit into place, forcing their gaze on the mirror. “Look at you.” He trails kisses behind Lee’s ear, down their neck, the trail of saliva he leaves behind chilling in the stale air. “Look at you.” His fingers brush their belly. “Look at you.” A kiss on their pulse point. Lee lets out an anxious shudder at the fingers dipping below the waistband of their shorts.

His eyes snap to meet theirs in the mirror, and Lee’s screwed because Noah’s just caught them soaking wet. They can’t force themself to blink, to look away from Noah’s piercing gaze as he slowly, predatorily brings his mouth to their ear. Punctuated by a single flick of their clit, through barely-parted kiss-bruised lips, he whispers: “Slut.”

It’s then their mind catches up to their body, and as their face hits the cold, wet porcelain of the sink bowl, they realize they hadn’t fully caught their breath. They heave as the stoneware digs into the bottom of their ribs, muscles spasming over their whole body as they consciously force them to relax.

The heel of his palm pushes at the base of their skull, his fingers tangling tight in their hair once more, and a single, foreboding finger whispers assurance as it runs down their spine. Cold air on their bare ass as he unceremoniously tears down their shorts and underwear in one fell swoop. His cock prods at their hole and they, body before mind, back against him.

For the warmth, of course.

Nothing more.

That’s definitely not their whine when he slides home with a single snap of his hips, when he pulls out nearly completely, when he snaps back home again with twice the force.

Mercy. What a silly thought to entertain, what a silly plea to beg when you’re begging Noah. Noah doesn’t do mercy. That’s not his modus operandi. Noah winds you up, then puts you down. Like Lee is now. Down. Face down in the sink bowl. Like the stupid, stupid slut they are, in Noah’s own words.

They’ll never get used to the stretch, they think, no matter how many times they fuck Noah. It might be the size of him (though they’ll never admit it to his face, lest it make him grow a second head for sheer lack of space from his already overly-inflated ego), or maybe it’s that he’s just there to get his, and no matter how he fucks - slow, fast, hard, gentle - he’s never thinking about them. And despite that, despite that he’s just jackhammering, shoving their face into the porcelain with force which will surely leave a bruise, the roll of his hips tells them someone cooked here.

There’s no tenderness in the dig of his short, blunt nails into the flesh of their inner thigh, woefully close to where they need him, nor in sticky snap of his hips against their ass, and certainly not in the merciless drag of his heavy cock against that rough patch in them which serves to topple them like a Jenga tower, slowly, shakily, then all at once. They’re so full. So empty. They’re a coin-operated doll, helpless to be broken down and sold for parts on the whim of a single man.

They’re a wet mess, clit so swollen they think it might burst, hands a mess of numb pins and needles. They’re gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow, they’re gonna be so fucking sore when they pee, and for what it’s worth, this shouldn’t feel good at all, but Lee is so fucking close.

Embarrassing.

When Noah’s hips stutter, when his grip releases their head just enough for them to turn their head, he’s got his bottom lip in his teeth and his eyes are squeezed shut and he looks so, so gone (or maybe it’s Lee who’s gone) in the flush of pink running from his cheeks down into his shirt.

That’s not Lee moaning. They’re just trying to catch a breath. But, god, they’re right there, they just need something, they just need more -

Noah freezes, collapsing on them with a short, quiet groan, burying his face in their neck.

His breath is hot, wet, the weight of his heaving chest pressing their ribcage into the porcelain. There's barely a moment of peace before the fingers in their hair tighten once more, pulling their face up to meet his eyes in the mirror.

All it takes is a miniscule shake of Lee’s head for his blissed out gaze to turn stormy once more, for him to drop to his knees.

It’s a race to the finish line the second Noah’s tongue touches Lee’s neglected clit. Quite possibly all their synapses fire at once, all their focus single-mindedly on the way he sucks them, on the calluses on his fingertips as he pads at their hole, on the vibration of a moan they can’t hear.

Lee is jelly. They don’t need to be held down any longer, compliantly staying slumped in the sink, but the soothing scrape of Noah’s nails on their scalp as he presses two fingers in grounds them, turning any distracting thoughts to a static hum tuned to the note of fuck, Noah.

All it takes is a single curl of his fingers, like the press of a button before they’re falling, trembling on an overdose of oxytocin into oblivion.

With a final suck, Noah rises to his feet, bringing a deer-legged Lee with him. They’re dizzy, vision blurred as he turns them gently in his arms. Arousal-coated fingers pry their jaw open, and Noah comes into focus when his hand settles at their throat in an inky-fingered necklace. He forces Lee’s jaw open wider and spits, using the same hand to then cover their mouth. His eyes are wide and wild, rapt as he soothes the saltybitter spend down Lee’s throat. “Look at you, look at that dirty mouth,” he’s mumbling feverishly, voice still deep with arousal. “Look at you swallow that cum. Who else does it for you like this, hm? That’s right. Nobody. Only me.”

Lee chokes out a heaving breath, willing the tears that prick their eyes to not fucking fall, and he deflates, collapsing into their shoulder, arms dropping to circle their waist. “God damn, Leanne,” he sighs after a beat, dulcet and spent.

They glance down uncomfortably. His face is calm, unmarred by the everpresent lines and tension it usually carries, nose buried in their neck. “It’s Lee,” they say.

At least he has the sense to look embarrassed. “Right. Lee.”

They don’t clean themself up, they haven’t the energy. They let Noah pull up their shorts, shuffle them out the bathroom and out the back door, and walk them home.

The streets are quiet, streetlights haloing the street corners in gold, everyone with any sense of decency long-retired to their homes. Lee wonders what they look like from a bird’s eye view, or from outer space, alone together in a grid of light. What do the stars think - would they shame Lee? Would they judge them?

They stroll lazily, Noah’s arm draped round Lee’s shoulder. He looks so at peace, between the half-smile playing at his lips and the way the streetlights illuminate the lashes of his half-closed eyes. Something acrid bubbles in Lee’s chest. At least they get him like this, blissed out and pleasant before they never speak to him again. Before they never -

No. They won’t think about that. Just remember this.

Lee is halfway up the porch stairs before Noah yanks them back by the wrist, catching them from their awkward tumble into his chest. “Give me a call sometime, alright?” he mumbles, grazing the exposed skin between their shorts and shirt. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Their heart stutters. It’s too sweet. It’s too nice. This isn’t right. “Whatever, asshole,” they say. Weakly. Unconvincingly. With the weakest push they’ve got, with no resistance from Noah, they start again on the stairs.

He doesn’t pursue.

“Call me whatever you like,” he laughs. “‘Long as you call me.”

In the morning, through a blinding headache and a metric fuckton of hangxiety, Lee rushes to check their phone the second they pull their face from the pillow.

Among the sea of texts from Noor and Mike, work emails, and bullshit app notifications, there it is: Stupid Silly Man: hey, asshole. My number is still the same, btw.

#bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #fern words #noah sebastian fanfiction #nonbinary oc

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trans-luis-serra-navarro · 11 months ago

Note

Hi I LOVE luis and I LOVE Serennedy and I’m SO HAPPY you have asks on!!

Anyways I was laughing to myself this morning about Luis’s first words to Leon being in English. Ik it’s just for the benefit of the players of re4r BUT I like to think that he only had to take one look at blonde, thicc, gun-clad Leon and go “yeah that’s an American, better speak English” like logically that’s a Spanish man in his isolated Spanish village, so he had no other reason to NOT speak Spanish there!!! He clocked Leon so fast lolol.

That’s not really question but wanted to share my brainrot. So uhhh, read any good Serennedy fics lately?

TUMBLR DELETED MY EXTREMELY LOMG ANSWER TO THIS AND I AM S O MAD BUT YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG MASSIVE BRAIN I JUST H A D TO DRAW YOUR CONCEPT

((Also not to plug my own art or anything but my main is @wisecrackingeric-2 if you wanna see more stuff like that!!!!))

BUT OH MY GOD?? Y E S ?????????? HOW HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THIS BEFORE HOLY CRAP Leon’s big bodacious behind and jokes aside I REALLY WISH we got to see more of Luis using Spanish in casual conversation!!!!!! Like clearly he’s both VERY fluent in English and Spanish and uses them both interchangeably but GOD I WISH WE GOT TO HEAR LIKE A FULL CONVERSATION BETWEEN HIM AND MENDEZ OR SOMETHING. Like that opening scene in seperate ways???? MUWAH. IT WAS SO COOL. ANYWAYS YOUR ACTUAL QUESTION YES I HAVE S O MANY FIC RECS I CAN GIVE YOU!!!!!

‘Nothing Fades Like The Light’ by @greasedcowboy is genuinely possibly my favourite fanfiction of all time. I’ve never had to go lay down on my bathroom floor because of a fic until this one HXNEHENDIX

‘Another Time’ by @hamartia-grander is S U C H AN INCREDIBLY WELL PACED time travel fic with the most GUT WRENCHING plot twists EVER’

‘I Carry All My Sins’ by @mooseonahunt I don’t. I don’t even wanna spoil this one. Just. Just read it totally blind

‘Loves For Show’ by @theprestigegirly Is S U C H a good fake-dating slowburn fic which is H I G H PRAISE coming from someone who usually isn’t a fan of the genre!!!!!!!! Seriously if you like beautiful wording and gorgeous depictions of raw human emotion this one’s for you!!!!!!!!!!!!

‘We’ll Be Alright’ by @ugetelynx IS SO GOOD. GOD ITS SO GOOD MAN. It’s a S U P E R unique AU and the way Lynx weaves the story and takes you along the path of these two slowly learning how to live a life with one another- MWUAH. LITERALLY SO GORGEOUS. Prepare to have your soul ripped out of your ribcage

‘Redemption Of The Guilty’ by Sylanna!!!!! Again another one where I’m like just!!!! Go read it!!!!!!!! I don’t wanna spoil it!!

‘Digital Man’ by @geddy-leesbian CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU (<- going insane pounding my fists on a wooden table)

‘Renovations’ by Gayhorrorboy IS SO CHARMING AND FULL OF GENUINE LOVE FOR THE SUBJECT AT HAND!!!!! I’ve been watching my friend work on this fic for MONTHS now and I can say with confidence it was made with so much love and care I can’t reccomend it enough!!!!

I W O U L D be tacky and add my own fics to this list but I haven’t stooped that low yet HANDHDNSJX if you’re curious though my AO3 handle is just WisecrackingEric!!!

#asks #ericsart #resident evil fanfiction #serennedy

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gl00my-b0y-1 · 5 months ago

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I N T R O ☆

My name is Ray/Daniel and i'm 15. I'm boyflux and my pronouns are he/they/xe. My last blog was @gl00my-b0y. I am REALLY awkward + have massive amount of brainrot so be aware ! (srs if u think i cant make something feel awkward oh hell yes i can and I will, sorry). And i cant spell.

Interests☆

Art!! I like photography, painting, drawning and writing

Music! Currently im trying out a lot of diffrent genres and artist also i play guitar☆

Silly Games like Cold Front, Elevator Hitch, Dead Plate, IdentityV, and Roblox

Shows and anime or smth: Murder Drones, Ramshackle, Another, Mirai Nikki

PLEASE DON'T REPORT I NEED THIS BLOG

EVERYTHING TRANSPHOBIC I SAY IS ONLY TARGETTED TOWARDS ME SO PLEASE DONT TAKE IT PERSONALLY BECAUSE I REALLY DONT MEAN IT

Stats☆

I'm 5'2 (159cm)

cw 117lbs (53.5kg)

gw1 108lbs (49kg)

gw2 100lbs (45kg)

gw3 92lbs (42kg)

ugw 88lbs (40kg)/until i think i look good enough:>

Silly thingies >_<

Im not diagnosed with anything but i think I might have OCD and ADHD

I have terrible dysphoria most of the time over really stupid things lol

I have therapist

#rayyposting #rayydiet #intro post #introduction #blog intro #pinned intro #ed ftm #boy ana #ftm ed #tw ana bløg #Spotify

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misc-obeyme · 6 months ago

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YEAHHH JOIN THE SOLOMAMS TRAIN !! I am here to ramble, they make me crazy. I'm brainrotting so hard about coffee shop AU. Vibrating with ideas.

I never thought about Mammon owning the cafe, but hell that would be so cool!! Okay, okay, here's my thoughts. Mammon owns the cafe and works there, and also has an apartment directly above it (trying to decide WHY he owns it, maybe took over from Lucifer?? Bought the cheap building impulsively bc apartment, deciding it was a problem for future him to decide what he'd make out of the lower space).

People go mostly for him because the vibes are immaculate, everyone always leaves in a better mood. The college campus down the block has a rumor that if you buy a coffee, leave a good tip (specifically dollar coins or two dollar bills), and have an exam the next day, you'll always get a passing grade no matter what. Mammon works overtime during midterms and finals, business is booming.

Solomon is a college student (need to decide on a major) and comes at the exact same time every weekday morning, buying a danish (sometimes strawberry, sometimes ham and cheese) and a coffee before class, except on Wednesdays because he doesn't have classes. Mammon knows his order by heart after a month, but pretends to ask him what he wants while literally typing it into the kiosk. Mammon will squint at him, somehow knowing which danish he'll choose that day before Solomon utters a word. "Ahaha, why do you ask when you already have a danish boxed up?" "Who says that's for you, eh? I don't know everyone's order around here." "Not everyone. You're right. Just mine :]" "O-OI, SHUT UP BEFORE I CHARGE YA EXTRA!"

If I'm including my mc, I'm definitely working at a record shop a block down the street (my dream job)!! Records, CD's, small music sheet collection, buying services (trading and hunting down records is available for repeat customers, AHEM, Lucifer and Solomon.) Took over from the old owner because I visited so much as a teen, was hired as soon as I was old enough, and took over at say 22 ish.

HEAR ME OUT, Solomon who still uses a walkman. I think it'd be nice. He visits the store occasionally after class to browse, getting lost in the CD's. I'm imagining him having a massive collection, and having some rare items. He once showed up with a copy of something I had only ever dreamed of owning (once saw it secondhand for $800, he also had other stuff with him), and I almost jumped across the counter when he said he was looking to sell or trade for credit. "You look like you're simultaneously about to faint or attack me." "I can't decide which to do."

Lucifer loves collecting records, so he visits a lot, and uses it as an excuse to check up on Mammon (won't admit it). There's a collection of records kept up front that are deemed 'cursed' because they always skip the first track (Lucifer will buy one every month). Lucifer became a regular after I accidentally came across a rare first press edition of a record online and presented it to him because he mentioned it was a dream to own. He brought me a coffee and a croissant from his brother's coffee shop the next day to show his gratitude, mentioning it wasn't too far either.

Suddenly I'm visiting the cafe the next day, waking up early to have time before opening up shop. Almost die trying to order, because Lucifer did not mention his brother was hot. Successfully get my hands on another croissant, and a sandwich that was recommended. I don't visit every day, but when I do, it's always at the same time. Mammon grumbled something about trying to have my order ready before I got there, only for me to not show up some days. "N-Not that it means anything! I'm just tryin' to be more efficient!" "Well, I'm sorry I don't always wake up early! Getting out of bed is hard. If I had your number, I'd text you saying I was on my way, y'know?" "Y-YOU'RE ASKING FOR MY NUMBER?" "WAIT WHAT, N-NO, I MEAN- well.. actually, that wouldn't be... so bad? F-FORGET I SAID ANYTHING IF THAT'S WEIRD, UM, UH, SORRY, CAN I PAY NOW?" "... It's on the house. And uh, look inside the cup sleeve whenever you leave."

HELP I NEVER MEAN FOR MY ASKS TO GET THIS LONG, I JUST CAN'T STOP RAMBLING. The fact this isn't even everything, this is just the backstory. The lore, if you will. There is a plot !! Everything is connected.

- ✨ anon

✨ anon, tell me you're writing this story. This sounds exactly like what I do when I'm brainstorming a story before I write it.

And it's so good!!! I love every part of this!! I mean, okay, you don't have to write it if you don't want to obviously lol but I think it'd turn out really good if you did!!

I mean, you have fully converted me to the solomams train now, I'm so invested!!

I love Lucifer's role in all this and I LOVE that you work at the record shop down the street!!

Definitely living for the poly vibes, I wanna see what happens when you and Solomon show up at the same time. Poor Mammon might just have a whole heart attack about it!

Anyway, I love this. Please feel free to tell me more. I love coffee shop AUs so so much.

#what is it about coffee shops huh?#I can't explain it but I'm all about it #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #✨ anon #misc answers

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 1 year ago

Text

To Catch a Grasshopper

(I wholeheartedly blame @a-weird-tiny for this. I showed them Hopper, and she immediately said that she wanted Borrower!Hopper to get in a cat and mouse chase with Miguel for acting like a nuisance (my words)/brat (her words), and she gave me a line that kickstarted this whole thing. Might draw something for it at some point because I now have a new brainrot.

There are now five men in my brain jostling for attention, and it’s getting rowdy. Also, sorry if anything seems OOC for Miguel, I only know what the movie provides which is a grouchy, broody man, though I think I wrote him softer than anything else the fandom has right now. All I know is ‘angry latino/a’ is a stereotype I’m very tired of being taken to the extreme considering I’m Hispanic and, like, being angry isn’t his only personality trait.)

Count: 5758

TW/CW: Soft, safe G/t vore, a bit of fearplay/worry of being killed "You're pouting again."

"I am not," came the gruff answer. Just like they expected from their current companion as Hopper settled on the edge of the console desktop, crossing one leg over the other and using their knee to rest their elbow and perch their chin in hand. Purple faded in their brown eyes as they smirked up at the back of the looming figure leaning over the console on the other side of the platform.

Miguel O’Hara let out a heavy sigh that was more akin to a growl, a rather common greeting he gave them whenever they popped up during work. Then again, they didn’t know where he lived outside of this place, so showing up at his work was the only way they knew to see him without being creepy.

His shoulders slumped slightly with the exhale, muttering something under his breath - likely to brace himself for tolerating their presence - before turning around to look at them. Orange from the console screens around the platform pronounced his facial features, glinting off of his red irises and spidersuit. Which was already glowing in the red parts, so the whole platform was a delight of warm colored neon.

Hopper would have preferred they were cooler colors. The Spiders had blue in their motif, why not use that?

They were still pretty impressed when his eyes almost immediately fell on their sitting form at the edge of the desk. He was a very large man by normal standards, towering over most humans with ease, but he was absolutely massive compared to their diminutive height of three inches. Still, superhuman senses enabled him to easily pinpoint their position. He might not have been brooding, but he had a very naturally tired and brood-y face.

“I’m assuming it’s too much to ask you to leave me alone for the day,” Miguel said tiredly. Already his voice was laced with stress and general grouchiness, but they couldn’t really remember a time he’d greeted them with a wide smile. It wasn’t really his style. Small smiles, occasionally.

To be fair, he was probably the one Spider they liked annoying the most. It was easier than most of the other Spiders, but he also dealt with a whole society of wise-cracking chatterboxes, so he also had a surprising amount of patience with them.

“You assume correctly,” Hopper chirped proudly from their spot, asymmetrical earrings dangling from their proclamation. One was a blue-gemmed planet in a golden hoop, the other a gold star with a blue gem center on a piece of gold chain that dangled it down to their chin. With a mischievous look, their eyes flickered purple and their form wavered with purple sparks, feeling a warm pins-and-needles kind of feeling running through their body. In a blink, they went from sitting at the edge of the console desktop to flickering into existence atop one of the monitors closer to the man, legs and hands on top as they dangled the rest of their body upside down to look at him.

His gaze quickly followed the brief purple flash of their appearance.

“I can’t just leave my very best Spider friend alone with his brooding thoughts,” they added playfully sweetly, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to their head. “Besides, I’ve been gone a week. Can’t say I didn’t give you a break.”

“If only it was longer,” the Spider grumbled, turning away with a proper growl this time. He began to work on the screen he had previously been using, fingers sliding across the orange glow.

“Aw, c’mon,” Hopper said, teleporting to stand on the top of the monitor being used. Almost immediately, Miguel made a lazy attempt to snatch at them, making them teleport to the screen right next to it. This time, they appeared with their hands on their hips with their eyes narrowed at him.

He’d found out pretty quickly when they first met that, frustratingly enough for him, they could teleport too quick to be grabbed. Which was good for them because they had time to iterate that they were VERY fragilè. No superhuman strength or durability to be had here, AND they were tiny in comparison. One overzealous grab could probably kill them.

“And I DON’T brood,” Miguel added with a light glower before lowering the hand that went to grab them back to the screen he was focusing on. His eyes followed suit, trying to return his focus to his previous work.

“I think a bunch of Spiders and I would disagree.”

This close, they could see a small quirk at the corner of his lip as he replied, “Just because you and a few other Spidermen think I brood doesn’t mean you’re right.”

Hopper stood waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t elaborate or tack anything on, making them groan a bit in irritation. They teleported back onto the monitor he was using and he didn’t move to snap at them or grab them again. He seemed rather intent on ignoring them. With a huff, they spread their arms out and said, “C’mon, man. I dimension-hopped here. OBVIOUSLY. I don’t wanna go home and basically tire myself out for nothing!"

"Then go bother someone else to pass the time, I’m busy."

They frowned at the rather reasonable response, defiantly declaring, "I don't want to. And when AREN’T you busy?"

They felt a bit of satisfaction as he closed his eyes for a second and frowned. They thought he had anger issues. He did, maybe, but they definitely didn't help. But, if they left him alone, he would just stand here, brood, and bury himself in his missions and self-appointed job. He was a chill guy but they worried about him self-destructing sometimes in his work, even if their version of worrying and action was trying to get under his skin to distract him from everything else.

That, and Hopper - despite enjoying the sense of humor and more upbeat nature of the other spiders - found them to be easily overwhelming and loud in their own ways, so they felt like they'd be drained quickly. One on one was fine depending on the Spider, but this was literally a SPIDER HUB. The chances of finding many Spiders on their own was slim, and slimmer still was finding a Spider they liked or gathering the nerves to introduce themself to an unfamiliar Spider. Jess was fun, but she was usually out as well, either on mission or home. All the Spiders came and went.

Except Miguel, sometimes. Maybe he lives here, they didn’t know.

He wasn't exactly the friendliest, or most fun-loving, and he was fucking TERRIFYING when he yelled or got too stressed (they teleported out of the room the few times he'd snapped at them), but he was here the most often, was usually pretty quiet, and was alone with manager-y kind of stuff, except like a weird Spider crime department that specialized in dimensional stuff.

"Have you talked to the Therapist Spider yet," Hopper asked without any snark or provocative inflection, sitting down and absentmindedly kicking their feet lightly. Their legs probably barely blocked any of the screen, but it was enough to draw his attention when he opened his eyes once more.

"No, and I don't need to. You're worse than LYLA about asking that."

"Well, I still say you should go talk to him. Just once, at least! Everyone needs therapy, you Spiders especially. Or, I don't know, get a hobby," they suggested, not for the first time. They knew that LYLA made similar comments, but Miguel wasn't in charge of Hopper.

They shifted so that they laid on top of the monitor, raising their wrist above them to watch their bracelet beads sway slightly and glint in the orange light. It wasn't very comfortable since the monitors were pretty thin, but they didn't care too much. They huffed and added, "You're going to make yourself insane by just doing this all day. I'm bored to tears just watching."

"Then go home," Miguel suggested back. “Besides, I’m too busy for hobbies. Or, small annoyances trying to distract me from, again, working.”

Alarmingly, the monitor they were laying on and the one he was using was suddenly jerked to the side, causing them to jolt off the side with a panicked yelp. Instinctively their body kickstarted a teleport, body flickering purple before they appeared at the console desktop. Their instincts made them materialize upside-down, using the momentum from their fall to 'fall' upwards into a standing position that had them flailing their arms for a second to avoid falling on their back anyways. They stood there frozen for a second from the brief fright, looking up to see Miguel chuckle a bit as he fixed the monitor back in place and continued.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER," they hissed as they teleported back up to the top of the monitor, but there was a smile playing at the corners of their lips. "Not fair that you can just knock me off my perch! I'm wasting my Hops here, man."

"Not fair that you can teleport yourself unilaterally transdimensionally and transspacially out of reach and consequences while you sit there and distract me from my work," he replied. He still seemed stressed and grouchy, but there was the barest of difference from before, the slightest amount of loosening up. “Now, cállate.”

"First of all, they're not transdimensional or whatever transports, they're HOPS," Hopper stressed the rather simple word compared to his complicating ones, resettling on top of the monitor as they ignored him telling them to be quiet. This time they didn't lay down, just sitting up and keeping an eye on his hands in case he wanted to be a funny guy again. "And secondly, you're ALWAYS working. It's not healthy, you know."

They were one to talk considering their horrid life habits, but Miguel didn't need to know about any of that.

"If I don't keep charge, who will," Miguel scoffed a little, though they knew he had no ill will towards the other Spiders. He just wanted to take the brunt of everything for everyone.

Hopper realized this was one of the few times his wristwatch-machine-thing wasn't going off every minute or so, but glancing down at the screen showed that he was still monitoring and directing Spider traffic and tasks with nimble fingers.

"What about Jess? Or the black and white monochrome Spider? He seems broody and serious enough for it," they suggested, looking back up at him. His gaze didn't waver from the monitor. "Just for, like, five minutes. C'mon, we go get some tea, or I'm guessing some form of Monster energy in your case since I've never seen you sleep. What’s a monster to a Spider? Praying Mantis?"

"That's a negative, I don't brood, and I’m questioning whether or not you’re a Spider-person with how much you talk my ear off," he said, flicking through pieces of programming that was cleverly styled around this whole webbing deal the Spiders had.

"Sure ya don't," they said dismissively, ignoring most of his statement and starting to develop an idea. A probably very horrible idea that would almost definitely make him irritated at least and furious at worse. But, he was a good guy, even if his attitude suggested otherwise sometimes. They trusted him to not hurt them. "It's just five minutes. Anyways, any big quantum whatsits right now? Influxes? Anomalies? Anomalies. Big Spider Emergency stuff."

Miguel looked surprised at their question since they usually tried to take his mind OFF of his work, not ask about it unless it was after he went out himself. He thought for a second, probably wondering their reason for asking, before he replied, "We had a couple incidents this morning, but they were taken care of pretty quickly. The timelines seem stable for now, but it could change any moment."

"How long?"

"Huh?" The Spider quirked a confused eyebrow at them.

“How long have they been stable?” Hopper clarified, watching the confusion dissipate from Miguel’s face as they did so. While he thought, they teleported to the surface of the console desktop, waiting patiently for the moment or so it took for him to answer.

“Few hours, maybe. It’s always calmer after an influx. Why?” he asked, following them to their spot on the desk with curiosity and suspicion.

“Because-,” a mischievous smile spread across their face as they casually walked over to where his Goober-Gizmo-Computer-Key thing was halfway stuck out of the console. As they placed a hand on it they saw his eyes widen slightly as he realized what they were doing. A flash of red-blue came towards them as he quickly went to grab them, but they already flickered out of reach, computer key and all. They appeared on the console at the other end of the platform while he whirled around to see where they went, leaning a little on the little device-thing that was two-thirds their height. They opened their mouth to continue but he lunged towards them.

“Hopper!” Miguel snapped as they teleported out of reach back to the other side, spinning back to face them with a scowl. His tone was warning like someone prepared to scold a pet or child. “Drop it.”

“Iiif you’ll let me finish,” Hopper replied, feigning disinterest by looking at their nails. They heard him sigh heavily, seeing him cross his arms over his chest in their peripherals.

“Alright, fine. Finish.” he said gruffly.

“Thank you,” they chirped, perking up and looking back up at the man, keeping at least one hand on the key at all times. Clearing their throat, they started again. “Anyways. BECAUSE. If things are settled right now, then that totally means you can take a five minute break with me.”

“No can do,” Miguel quickly cut them off, shifting to hold out his hand palm up rather than attempt to grab them again. “Give the Goober back, Hopper.”

“Only if you take five minutes to just chill. You’ve still got your wristwatch that the others can contact if something happens and all of you guys are capable of handling yourselves, even if some of the Spiders are goofy as hell,” Hopper hummed, watching his frown deepen at their blatant refusal to comply. Teleporting to the edge of the platform, they added, “Or, you know, I guess we could spend five minutes with me playing Keep Away. Just make sure you put a timer on. I feel like you’ll die if you have even one second of rest or fun more than that.” “Haha. Funny,” he laughed sarcastically, though his expression looked far from amused right now. With a grumble, he turned and paced a little on the platform, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath. After a few seconds of Hopper waiting patiently, he stopped. He looked almost surprised at a sudden thought, turning to look at them. "If I indulge you in your little game of Keep Away, you'll be satisfied giving the Goober back and not causing trouble?"

"Just call it a computer key. And, cross my heart and hope to die. Though, you know, kind of don't want that to happen," Hopper made the X over their heart, feeling a sense of elation at having him even actually consider their proposition. They did wonder why he'd choose a game rather than just relaxing.

"Don't worry. You won't," Miguel replied, rolling his neck and shoulders. Suddenly, Hopper didn't feel very confident in their decisions for the day.

"Oh, uh, are we, like, starting now," they asked dumbly, having not really expected him to accept any of this. They didn't really think this far ahead.

"You're the one that suggested this. Though, if you want, I can give you a second to get ready since I’m not going easy on you, kid.”

Ignoring the fact that he called them ‘kid’ despite them being a full-grown adult, they felt a little better at the thought of being able to collect and prepare themself mentally, saying, “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.”

“Alright,” Miguel nodded amicably and looked off to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he was going to wait patiently. That lasted maybe a moment before his head whipped back towards them with narrowed eyes that glinted with his own slight mischievousness. “One.”

Hopper wasn’t even given a moment to process the brief confusion, eyes widening as the man lunged towards their spot at the edge of the platform with outstretched hands. With a yelp, their body quickly moved into a teleport, barely remembering to keep holding onto the computer key and spread the teleportation to it. Back on top of the console desktop, they took a second to register what happened, Miguel standing up from where they had been standing. Despite literally asking for this whole game, they couldn’t help but exclaim, “What the fuck, Miguel?!”

“What?” he asked, straightening up. His face was now covered by his mask, but his voice had a tinge of amusement to it as he looked back at them. He lunged towards them again, forcing them to teleport to a monitor with another yelp. “I asked if you wanted a second, I gave you a second.” “Oh, NOW you’re a funny guy like the rest of the Spiders?” Hopper asked, smiling now that the initial shock was over. They could feel a bit of giddiness from adrenaline. They laughed and teleported off the platform to the metal arm thing in the room below when he made to grab them again. They shifted their grip on the computer key, looping their arm through the metal ring on top to lessen the chance of losing it as they shouted up, “Does that mean you’re not brooding for five minutes?”

“I like that you think it’ll take that long to catch you,” Miguel replied, leaping off the platform and using a laser-web to pull himself towards them with his claws out. “I like that you think you CAN catch me,” Hopper laughed, teleporting to the ground and then further down the hall when he pounced towards their position almost immediately. “Didn’t we establish pretty early on that I’ll just teleport away even if you manage to touch me?”

“Call it a hunch that I think this time’ll be different.” “I’d ask if it was Spider-sense, but you don’t have that so I’m just gonna say it’s your massive ego that makes you think that,” they continued to teleport around the hall and equipment, having to move quickly because they were barely given a second of reprieve before there was a flash of blue-red in the corner of their vision that had them whisking away out of reach. They felt a slight ache in their chest from teleporting so quickly around, but they ignored it in favor of trying a larger jump to the end of the hall to try and catch their breath for a second.

After all, they were basically compressing their entire body and molecules - and the computer key’s - out of physical existence and back in. They were essentially holding their breath and stopping their heart for brief moments of time, and their body was currently not liking it happening so much.

“I think your hubris is going to be your downfall,” Miguel shouted, seeing them at the end of the hall. This far away, they were given a few seconds to see how terrifying it was to actually be in place of a pseudo-villain, seeing his claws gouge into the metal ground like it was paper and him literally claw and pounce towards them. They were definitely realizing why the fuck he was so buff compared to some of the other Spiders. A laser-web shot towards them and they were gone again.

“I think my hubris is likely to kill me, yes,” Hopper maintained their air of nonchalance, far too into this game to let a bit of tiredness or any aching distract them. When was the last time they played a game? Or basically played tag? When was Miguel’s? Popping up on a structure higher on a wall between some equipment. They thought they were getting closer to the Anomaly room. If they could get in one of the cages, he’d have to talk to LYLA, who they hoped would side with them.

Teleporting away from his claws again, they added, “I don’t think your name is Hubris though, so I think I’m good either way.”

“Maybe I’ll get a name change then,” he said. When they popped back on the ground with the intent to go to the Anomaly room, he overshot and dropped down right in front of them, making them yelp and teleport backward at how close he’d landed. He was starting to try and predict their movements, and unnervingly well.

As they teleported again away, he shouted after them, “And stop teleporting away-” another unsuccessful pounce to them, “- or hopping around like a-a-,” he struck a wall as he rounded a corner and tried to laser-web them again, “- a GRASSHOPPER or something!” “I’m not-not a grasshopper.” Hopper replied, mildly offended at the nickname and struggling to not pant as they teleported onto another shelf of equipment. They weren’t sure if he heard the way their voice kind of wavered tiredly but he didn’t let up regardless. They were unused to the strain in their chest, finding it more difficult to ignore as time went on. “Tell you what,” Miguel didn’t sound winded at all as he lunged again, though he was used to actual fieldwork like the rest of the Spiders while Hopper hadn’t really tried to test their teleportation limits. “You give me back the Goober, I don’t call you a grasshopper.” “No dice,” they teleported to the other end of a different hall, hoping to double-back on him without him predicting it. They huffed a bit quietly, trying to take in a full breath against the stitch developing in their side. “You’ll just take it and keep calling me grasshopper. But that’s fine anyways because it doesn’t bother me.”

It did, it really did, but they couldn’t let him know that because it would only encourage it.

“Fair assessment, but wrong. Now I just get to call you a grasshopper, which fits because you KEEP EVADING ME,” he growled as he landed where they had been standing. “Quédate quieto, you nuisance!”

They teleported on top of a light fixture to look down at him, ignoring the fact that everytime he landed it was with enough force to DENT the ground. Instead, they ignored the way their heart raced and panting breaths, asking, “Have you ever tried catching a grasshopper?”

“I’m trying right now!”

“Haha, funny,” they teleported away again, closing their eyes against a twinge of pain in their chest, for a moment, having to teleport again to avoid red-glowing claws with a panicked yelp. Was it just them or was that teleport a little delayed? “I meant ACTUAL grasshoppers. They’re pretty easy to catch once you know what to do. Like a cup or something.”

Hopper worriedly began to realize that their breathing was becoming more labored as well, pauses between sentences increasing noticeably. There was no way he didn’t notice that, at least.

“Really? Thanks for the tip.” Miguel said, eliciting another exclamation as they were forced to teleport away again.

They didn’t say anything in response to the Spider, their attention turning strictly to avoiding having the entire weight of the man come crashing on top of them, avoiding claws that still dug into the metal terrifyingly close to them and trying to speed up their teleporting back to normal standard as they felt themself begin to falter while the pain and ache in their chest increased. With a laborious huff, they teleported across the room again, starting to feel like they were physically and bodily chucking themself and the computer key around.

“What’s wrong, Hopper?” the Spider still didn’t relent in the chase, pouncing and barely missing them once more as he taunted them. “You’ve gone quiet. Almost like you’re getting tired. We can stop whenever, you just gotta drop the Goober.”

“FUCK YOU,” Hopper snapped on instincts, letting out a heavy pant when they popped back up before teleporting away again at the sight of more claws. They felt stubbornness fueled by spite, forcing themself to continue. “I’m not-not tired, a-asshole! Maybe I don’t feel like talking!”

“You? Not feeling like talking?” Miguel asked, laughing as he swung from a web to where they attempted to take refuge on some kind of equipment that flashed and hummed like many of the items in the Spider-Hub. He landed lightly as they disappeared again. “That’s more improbable than space-time just fixing itself on its own.”

“It-It happens,” they protested defensively, not wanting to admit that they were being worn down as they wavered back into existence with the computer key. Seeing him immediately face them, again, they teleported back towards his platform room, wondering if they could seek refuge in a dark corner or something. They doubted it, but maybe. But, as they flickered out in their teleport it felt sluggish and painful, barely managing to wrench their molecules away.

Hopper reappeared on the floor beside the wall, not quite where they wanted, and had to gasp for a second past the pain before forcing themself to teleport again. This time, when they reappeared, their vision remained staticky for a second before it cleared enough to allow them a pretty good view of Miguel coming towards them a Mach 5 with a claw outstretched.

They couldn’t help but exclaim in panic, trying to teleport out of the way. But, the only thing they managed was a painful purple staticky-glitchy effect that brought to mind the Anomalies that the Spiders were catching, a flash of white-hot pain traveling through their chest briefly.

This was it, they thought, I’m about to fucking die because I really fucked around and found out, huh?

They couldn’t make themself look away, staring at their imminent death with paralyzing fear, watching the red claws draw closer both in an instant and horrifyingly slowly as their mind took in everything. The claws sunk into the metal around them and they didn’t even realize that they WEREN’T being crushed until Miguel spoke up in the same instant the claws caged around them..

“Te pillé!” he proclaimed triumphantly, barely letting out a huff from the entire chase. The eye-shapes on his mask widened from the focused narrowed eye-shapes to normal. It was still weird how expressive all the masks were. “You good, kid?” Hopper didn’t say anything at first, still wondering how the hell they were even alive. They blinked in surprise, their heart racing in their chest and breath laborious and shallow as they VERY slowly realized they weren’t in danger and began to calm. They noticed belatedly that they had a good inch and a half between their chest and the surface of his palm, not exactly in danger but still far too close for comfort after seeing him barreling towards them.

“I-I’m good,” they answered stiffly, voice cracking a bit from the scare. They took a steadying breath, wincing as it worsened the painful stitches in their sides, but they were fine overall. Just exhausted, a bit adrenaline-filled, and feeling aches already begin to settle.

“Good. I’ll take that then,” Miguel said, pulling his claws out from the metal wall and floor, carefully plucking them off the floor by the back of their jacket in his claws - making them yelp out in protest - and separating them from the computer key. He closed his fingers around the computer key deftly. They noticed the way his claws retreated into the tips of his fingers as he added nonchalantly, “You were right.”

“Huh?” Hopper frowned in confusion, more concerned with the fading ache in their chest. Looking at the eyeshapes of his mask, they asked tiredly, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said it’d be pretty easy to catch a grasshopper when I knew what to do,” he replied, mask dissipating to allow them to see his small smug expression, making them scowl immediately. “And it was. You were so sure of yourself, too.”

“I meant ACTUAL GRASSHOPPERS, and you DON’T NEED TO RUB IT IN,” they huffed, still panting a little.

“Yes, well, now you’re just a little grasshopper who can’t hop around anymore,” Miguel said. He lifted them up higher, which they didn’t really care about until he opened his jaws and began to move them closer to fangs that were as long as their forearms.

“WOAH, wait, what the FUCK?!” Hopper exclaimed in surprised panic, purple crackling along their limbs unsuccessfully.

Miguel only quirked an eyebrow slightly, saying, “Don’t worry, kid, you’ll be fine.” with the feeling that he knew they definitely wouldn’t believe him if he tried to elaborate. Which was true, but it was still kind of terrifying when they were placed into his mouth and let go despite their protests.

“MIGUEL, THIS DOESN’T FEEL FINE,” Hopper shouted when the teeth clicked behind them, yelping when the tongue shifted up against them. Adrenaline ran through their veins, causing their chest to ache again as they tried to instinctively teleport ANYWHERE else, but the light from the crackling of unsuccessful teleporting only gave them a very sharp and vivid look at the inside of the jaws around them like the teeth surrounding them. Or the pit of darkness in the back where his throat definitely was. They yelped - squeaked, but they’d never admit it - as the tongue moved them around and they felt saliva soak their clothes. “MIGUEL!”

Seconds felt like forever as their body took in their surroundings, the heat and humidity all around them, the sound of his breathing, the constant shifting of his tongue as it easily moved them around and licked at them anywhere it could touch, making them yelp in indignation when it poked their side and caused them to involuntarily jolt. They shoved against it in fearful irritation, exclaiming, “PINCHE PENDEJO, LET ME OUT!”

They only knew some insults in Spanish despite having spent years with a Spanish class and their reward was a rumbling chuckle from the man as he continued to lick at them. It was probably only a couple seconds before they found themself starting to be nudged back to the back of his mouth, trying to brace their legs against the roof of his mouth. Rather unsuccessfully.

Now it was their turn to let out a warning tone, going, “Miguel, don’t you fucking DARE swallow me!” as they panicked. They couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, thinking that he was probably one of the more trustworthy people out there and now he was EATING them.

Miguel still didn’t respond, either because they were still in his mouth or he didn’t care to bother, and they found themself squished between the roof of his mouth and his tongue directly before the sound of a gulp overwhelmed their ears. In a split second, they found themself sucked down into his throat, exclaiming protests and trying to squirm away from the constricting walls all around them while their surroundings were briefly lit up every couple seconds by panicked purple light from failed teleporting.

The sound of his heart pounded in their ears along with the small exhale that he let out after swallowing, both breathing and heartbeat the only thing they could hear over the ambient sound of organs shifting in his body. Hopper didn’t realize how fucking loud bodies were.

Seconds ticked by rapidly before they spilled into a more open space, the only thing they could guess as the stomach. Despite their exhaustion, they couldn’t help but try and jump to their feet, immediately slipping and falling over on their back given the moving EVERYTHING and saliva coating it all.

“MIGUEL, LET ME OUT,” Hopper shouted again, feeling their throat start to hurt from all their panicked screaming. But, if they didn’t hold onto their anger, they’d probably just feel distress and fear, and that was so much worse. They yelped when everything got tighter, pressure from one side of the organ as they squirmed in confusion and more instinctive worry. After a second, they realized that he was probably pressing in from the outside to try and make them still.

“Cálmate, cálmate,” Miguel said, voice a bit softer. Whether he was trying to not overwhelm them further or he was trying to actually calm them felt up for debate considering their position. He still sounded far more casual than the situation called for as he added, “You’re gonna be fine, Hopper, it’s just temporary containment. Although, I wasn’t expecting you to have quite as much kick in you after being chased around.” “Temporary containment?! Temporary til what, my death?!” Hopper snapped, trying in vain to shove his hand and the stomach wall away before realizing the full extent of what he said. “Hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by ‘expecting’? How long have you been planning on eating me?!”

“Seriously? Only today, though the thought has crossed my mind a few times since meeting you,” he admitted, only sounded a LITTLE awkward about the admittance. “WHY?!”

“For one, stop squirming. I’ve told you you’re fine,” Miguel huffed, pressing a little harder but stopped when they yelped and stilled. His hand pulled away, allowing them to slip to the bottom of the organ with a yelp and fresh coating of drool from the small puddle at the bottom. “Secondly, having a small person run around on your desk while having spider DNA will lead to some odd thoughts like potentially eating them.”

“Okay, but again, WHY,” Hopper repeated, still confused as to why he’d give in to what they interpreted as a VERY WEIRD INTRUSIVE THOUGHT.

“Because it’s perfectly safe and I’ll know exactly where you are until you’re either able to teleport again or, let’s see… Let’s say an hour and a half or whenever your powers come back, whichever happens first.”

Hopper’s jaw dropped, realizing why he’d picked the game rather than just five minutes of tea, offended as they asked, “DID YOU JUST FUCKING PUT ME IN TIME OUT?!”

“Don’t take my Goober again unless you want a repeat, Grasshopper.”

#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #g/t #cinnwrites #hopper #miguel o'hara #astv oc

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