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iceunhie · 1 year

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amorousness.

summary: lyney loves your reactions. but oftentimes ends up being rendered speechless by you. you're really no good for his heart, you know? (he's down bad.)

notes: lyney x GN!reader. established relationship. inspired by a brainrot by the lovely @marrijaydeboo !! golden retriever x black cat, detective!reader. lyney is a loser in love. seriously. first lyney drabble (?) don't come for me if he's kinda ooc...

"I must say, Detective, I didn't know you were quite enamoured with me. You've been staring at me for quite a while."

Lilac eyes meet yours, playful and with the intent to seek a reaction. Any reaction. Whether it's the normally sheepish and curt deadpan and pointed stare, or the more rare reaction of a flush on your cheeks, the Great Magician Lyney prides himself as the sole captor and witness of such a side to his normally stoic and silent lover, you.

Well, not so much silent, but mostly reserved to a fault. It's no wonder you and Lynette are close. which he absolutely loves

Currently enjoying a leisure date (his words) after he pestered you on going with him (leaving a bunch of Rainbow Roses and Romaritime Flowers at your doorstep, silly little notes with cat patterns with a 'date countdown' on them, and popping up randomly in your office to steal quick kisses and elaborating about you leaving to spend time with him in typical Lyney fashion, complete with a wink and a disappearing act before you could even get mad at him for the disruption) saying that even Detectives and Sleuths like you need to let down their hair a bit.

And what better way to do it than to spend it with your lovely, horribly sappy (your words) and romantic boyfriend? So, after a few works at winning you over with his secret weapon (Lynette came at your door, giving you the most unimpressive stare and smirk, before telling you her brother was at his wits end trying to please you, waxing poetic about how you wound him by your rejections so you better go) here you both were, enjoying a tray of sweets and desserts, all your favorites, it seems, while partaking in casual conversation flirting with Lyney.

"Is there a reason for your gaze? Or perhaps you're just admiring little old me?"

"Naturally, Great Magician. After all, beautiful things should be admired, no?"

Ah. But there was also that. Your unpredictability. Typical [name], always keeping him on his toes. Lyney flushes deeply at your words, caught off-guard, a rare look of sheepishness similar to a thief caught in the act. caught in the act of being horribly smitten with you, maybe A pretty shade of pink adorns his cheeks. Pink is the color of the Rainbow Roses he lavishes you with; the color of his longing for you, and just one of the colors you get the privilege of seeing on him.

You only smile knowingly, as your lips curl to a smirk.

You really…. You really have him wrapped around your finger, huh? Lyney can only sigh and laugh, as his normally flirty and romantic self is just no match for you.

Not that he minds, of course. You're the only one who gets to assert such a sheepish and unimpressive reaction from him, part from Lynette, probably.

"Ah, how your words leave me speechless, my dear [name]! How you keep me in your grasp so firmly… Ah, there's nothing more fulfilling." You only look at him with a withering stare, which leaves the magician in a love-struck gaze, as you just roll your eyes at his quips.

For the Great Magician Lyney, your reactions are a work of wonder and magic itself. Seeing your normally diligent and aloof facade crumble when he teases you keeps him tightly wound around your finger. Really, Lyney is probably the only person who gets such a thrill of seeing your glares or your unamused looks. Well, that can't compare to your flustered face, or your smile, though. Or your kisses, or the way you look at him breathless after…

He flushes even a darker shade of red, if that was even possible, definitely caught up in his thoughts of you.

It's ironic, really. He says you were the enamored one, but he's the one who wishes to keep you to him till the very end, and wishes that every day with you stretches out longer… He could almost sigh. The things one does when in love…

"Any more words and that smile of yours won't be kept up any longer, Lyney." You huff, as you scarf down a Conch Madeline, before turning to ascertain some case papers he notes that have to deal with the recent serial disappearance cases.

Lyney pouts. You both were on a date, not some regular business day. He'd prefer it if your attention were just on him for today, at least. (or maybe everyday, he hopes. maybe for the rest of your lives. really, what you did to him was astonishing)

"Jeez, alright…. I was hoping you'd be less composed and just unwind yourself with me, you know? After all, I am your lover. And I'd personally prefer if you could shift your attention only at me for today…"

Lyney tries to look unfazed and tip the scales to make you feel flustered this time, but his words come out as a whine. Was he really that needy for your attention? (he was)

Now you blush. The heat creeps up to your cheeks in a flaming glow, as you just make a noise in your throat, words going incoherent. You compose yourself, as you just clear your throat as you look away and bury your expression in your cup of tea, closing your eyes since you couldn't bare to see his gaze, no doubt oozing with fondness and sweetness as the desserts laid out on the table right now. Maybe even more. (you put away your papers, thank goodness)

"You don't need to worry about that. Besides, you're the only person I'd ever want to put all my attention on willingly, anyway…"

"...."

A beat of silence passes. Two beats, three beats. Yeah, now you were both shutting down at your words.

Yeah, now Lyney's seriously considering trying to propose to you in his next show now. A volunteer act, maybe? Wait, you don't want on the spot performances that surprise you too much. Hm, a private show? Tempting. And the ring… Maybe a magenta ring? Or maybe a purple one to match his eyes…. All for you. All for what you both currently have right now. All for everything you're currently showing him. Your mirroring love-lorn gaze, the way your lips would envelop his own, just his. Although Lyney thought that proposing to you right now was still too early, well, if you keep this up…

"Lyney? What's gotten into you all of a sudde–"

Your words stop as you feel the pressure of his lips on your own. Lyney's kisses are sweet, warm, and playful. But oftentimes, it's meaningful and embodies so many unspoken words of adoration that his suave self could never compare to. When he pulls away but a moment later, he's back to his regular self. The confident smile and the softening of his eyes as his gaze locks onto you. Cheeky and challenging. Just the way you like it. Just the way you both would have it.

"You look so endearing when flustered."

"Shut up."

"I love you even still!"

"Unfortunately, I do too."

"Haha, of course you d– Huh, wait, what do you mean, unfortunately?! [name]!"

The rest of the day is spent without your work bothering you. Not that you don't mind, of course. Only because you're spending it in his company.

#mhie's spirals #lyney x reader #lyney lovers rise!!!#lyney genshin #lyney x you #genshin lyney #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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avelera · 1 year

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Was thinking about how Hob and Dream could both be insufferable in some way because, in fairness, Hob comes across as someone who could make friends with bread if left in a room with it long enough.

Then I had a thought:

What if Hob Gadling is just super fucking insufferable to other immortals?

See, Dream is... difficult for mortals to get because he's got his whole eldritch thing going on. But while he's not particularly popular with them, I imagine other immortals at least get and respect his whole deal. Like, he's the Dreamlord. Of course he's weird. But they understand the laws and principles he's referring to at least when he's being weird. He seems to at least have a pleasant relationship with the Faerie Court. It's mortals who can't really connect with Dream and find him exasperating as a result.

Whereas Hob gets along great with mortals, just swell. He's Just A Guy who happens to live forever and people get along with him. But immortals? We don't really see it much but immortals positively loathe this guy.

Dream's reaction to the whole, "I've made up my mind, I've decided not to die!"? Hob tossed out in 1389? That's the teeth-grinding level of irritation Hob engenders in every immortal he comes across (before they have centuries to get to know him) and it is exactly why Death just had to make this man immortal because it would be hilarious.

Why doesn't Hob hang out with other immortals besides Dream? Because the minute he opens his mouth about how great life is and how he's never had even a moment's doubt about how much he wants to live, every immortal in the room starts to make the gagging motion.

You're an immortal just trying to have a bit of a kvetch about Kids These Days and how much times have changed and how it was better in your day, and there's Hob fucking Gadling again ready to throw down about how amazing antibiotics and automobiles and the latest iPhone number whatever are and like, sure, but you were just trying to say back in your day things were better, right? Not objectively maybe but you're just trying to indulge in a bit of immortal nostalgia and Hob fucking Gadling is not having any of it and is ready to argue you into the dirt about it.

You're immortal but haven't quite kept up on today's slang? Hob Gadling will absolutely call you out and he's a teacher now so he's going to be super nice about it but you know he's judging you for saying groovy unironically and thinks you should get with the times already.

You're a vampire living off centuries of generational wealth? Hob keeps talking about how you should get a job and get out of the spooky mansion more, and maybe you wouldn't feel so much existential angst. You like your existential angst!

Hob doesn't have a single ounce of patience for immortals who want to wax poetic about wishing they were mortal again. Diseases, he says, have you ever had diseases? Like even a cold? It sucks. It really fucking sucks. The Plague? The fucking worst. You don't need to be mortal to get involved in mortal life, Hob fucking Gadling keeps pointing out at the monthly eldritch coffee meetups. You can just live as a mortal and share in their problems and enjoy the fact you don't have to deal with the shit parts like getting sick. Completely missing the point of the futile lamentation of regretting one's lost mortality is something you enjoy.

Hob harshes the vibe of every single immortal out there. They are so goddamn sick of him. There's a reason he has no apparent immortal friends or connections to the supernatural world despite (in the comics) seeming to have met other immortals and having the occasional supernatural encounter that he immediately brushes off as dull when compared to what the normal, every day world has to offer.

No other immortal can fucking figure out what Dream of the Endless sees in this guy, and how he can stand to talk to him even once a century without storming off (which, in fairness, Dream has done on 2/7 occasions). Dream, not otherwise known for his patience, is seen as a saint in the eldritch community for even spending as much time as he has over the course of 600+ years with Hob fucking Gadling.

#hob gadling #the sandman #sandman meta #dreamling

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talktonytome · 2 months

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11 please!

11. how you pause when you talk, when you’re trying not to laugh (also on ao3)

Tommy’s walking over to grab another beer from the cooler, when Evan comes sauntering up to him with an absolute shit-eating grin on his face. He smiles and shakes his head, ready for whatever his soon-to-be husband has for him. He wasn’t kidding back when he told Hen and Karen that he was just trying to keep up.

“So,” Evan chirps, rocking on the balls of his feet. “ I have it on good authority you like me- like, like me, even,” he smirks.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, looking over Evan’s shoulder, to where Chim is suddenly pretending to look busy. “Hm, wonder where you got that from,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Surely, you didn’t gather that from months of us dating, moving in together, getting engaged or anything.”

Evan laughs, like he does every time Tommy makes a dumb little quip and it makes his heart do a little flip every time. “I dunno,” Evan pouts, shrugging his shoulders and sighing exaggeratedly. “A guy sits here, unkissed for long enough and he starts to wonder.”

Tommy brings him in by waist with one hand and uses the other to tilt his chin up. “Oh, well we can’t have that, now can we?” He says, even though it’s been forty minutes tops since they made out a little in Evan’s jeep, before joining Bobby and Athena’s barbecue. “They revoke my hot firefighter pilot boyfriend license for that sort of thing, you know?”

“Exactly,” Evan nods solemnly. “I’m glad you you understand the gravity of the situation.” His serious expression lasts all of two seconds before he breaks into a cheeky grin- the one where his tongue darts out from between his teeth when he’s smug or trying not to laugh, one of the many expressions Tommy loves.

“Brat,” Tommy mutters, voice entirely too fond to sound anything close to chastising. He thumbs Evan’s bottom lip, before leaning in and kissing him for it. They’re both smiling into the kiss, and even if it weren’t sunny outside, that would be enough to warm him from the inside out.

Evan’s still grinning when they break apart, because he got what he wanted and he knows it. Tommy suspects he also knows by now, that there’s practically nothing he will deny him.

“Alright, what lies and slander did Chimney feed you?” Tommy asks, leaning in for another quick kiss.

“Hmm, not sure I should say,” Evan pretends to think. “It’s confidential information.”

Tommy snorts. “Oh yes, because Howie’s famous for keeping secrets, the epitome of confidentiality, really."

They both burst out laughing at that.

“Ok, ok, he might have said something about you drunkenly waxing poetic about me last karaoke night.” Evan smiles a little in disbelief. God, he’s adorable.

“That… sounds about right,” Tommy shrugs. “I stand by it.”

“Oh yeah? So you think it’s cute that I tilt my head when I flirt with you?” He proceeds to demonstrate just that. “And that you just can’t tell me no when I do that?” He bats his eyes for the full effect.

“Oh, I’ve created a monster,” Tommy groans. Then, because two can play at that game, “you know, I had an interesting conversation with Eddie myself, the other day.

It’s Evan’s turn to sweat a little, his eyes grow a little wide and there’s a flush growing on his cheeks. “Y-yeah? What about?”

“He said he picked you up from Hen’s after you two got into the tequila bottle…”

“Ha, yeah good times,” he laughs nervously.

“Mhm,” is all Tommy says. He likes watching him squirm a little. Then, he pulls him in, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling his cheek, mouth hovering right by his ear.

“I wish I could put a baby in you, too, sweetheart,” he punctuates with a kiss to Evan’s cheek.

He cackles when Evan gasps, going red in the face. "Wow, betrayed by my own best friend?" He pulls away from Tommy, to scan for Eddie across the yard.

“When I catch you, Edmundo!”

#theyre ridiculous and in love your honor #bucktommy #911 abc #prompts #tommy kinard #evan buckley #my fic #30somethingautisticteacher

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dreadfuldevotee · 26 days

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Finally found someone who understands loumand amongst the loumand never loved eachother discourse, feel like I'm going crazy armand loved him (not defending his actions) and i believe louis loved him too in paris and i wanna say after too even if that love was tainted, or faded by the time they're in dubai that doesn't mean they never loved eachother.

They're beautiful and complex! I can't say I'm surprised they aren't a popular dynamic but the unwillingness to engage with their story is what upsets me the most. If you take away the love they share then absolutely nothing either of them do in those 77 years together never meant anything in the first place.

Honestly, the biggest crime of Anti-Loumand readings is that they are wildly boring. Like okay, Louis has absolutely no agency whatsoever, or he's staying with Armand for Claudia but he can't even do that right because he refuses to stand up for her where it actually matters, but also stays with Armand even when he tells him to get out of Paris to....spite Lestat??? And Armand is just....what? Blanket evil with no real motive but to keep Louis like a pathetic goldfish in an gallon tank. Why would you want that, when the story being written is much more interesting? Louis who is troubled yet still wanting, drawn to Armand and despite his reservations and self-doubt finding himself loving Armand despite it all. In each-other they both see something they want and believe they can obtain it if they can possess the other. Armand is dazzled continuously by Louis zest for life, even if he often times doesn't understand the forms it takes. I adore how they each have these pivotal moments where they are disarmed by the others vulnerability. Armand hearing Louis advocate for Claudia in the sewers and deciding not to kill him. Louis hearing Armand talk about his past and choosing to stay in Paris, despite the imminent dangers.

Like of course, they are far far far from perfect, and by Dubai they are both such shells of the people they actually are. And why I keep hope alive about Trinity Gate or really any loumand reunion. The two of them getting to meet again when they have both rediscovered themselves, and seeing each other in new lights would be everything to me. But yeah, truly nothing could make me hate them. I could sit here and wax poetic about them forever, frankly. And I absolutely will continue to on this blog lmaooo.

#char.txt #interview with the vampire #answered #remember like 2 months ago when i was like ''surely im not a loumand blog'' well girlie pop....#and ofc not everyone who doesnt like them together misunderstand the plotline #but you can really tell those people who get it and dont like it from the ones who watched the season with their eyes closed #anyway now that i have the font i should make a ''ask me about the 77 year union between the Vampires Armand & Louis De Pointe Du Lac''#but i dont have a cricut so idk more at 10 on that one

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atinylittlepain · 2 years

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after that episode i need all the joel fluff i can find, like i need an overdose to make up for the heart wrenching pain i am in at the moment

i'm right there with you, babe :( one order of pure fluff coming right up. i did set this in my Unexpected Expectings universe, but it's still lovely on its own I think

gif by @a7estrellas

Talking Shop

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

She keeps Joel company while he works on a crib for their baby, but she's not really interested in the woodworking.

warnings | 18+ pregnancy, that's it, this is just sweet and simple

...............................

“Are you even listening to me?” “Mmhmm.” Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands on his hips as he shoots her a questioning look.

“What’d I just say then?” She huffs, slumping back onto her palms where she’s sitting on his workbench. So maybe she hadn’t been listening to him waxing poetic about woodworking, she was a little distracted by the push and pull of his muscles under his sun-drenched t-shirt as he worked away at sanding more wood for the crib. For their crib.

“Um, something about towels?” He smirks at her, shaking his head as he shuffles over to stand between her legs. It’s a warm day in Jackson, summer wrapping up the town in bright rays and heat, and she feels a little dizzy looking at the sweat-darkened neck of his t-shirt, taking in the scent of cedar sawdust and musk that could only be her man. He rests his palms on her thighs, squeezing lightly.

“Not quite, mama. I was saying that I’m gonna use dowels to put the crib together. It’s safer, and sturdier. Gonna last a lifetime that way.” She hums, bringing her hand up to scratch lightly at the scruff along his jaw, basking in the way he leans into her touch.

“I was pretty close. Cut me some slack, huh? You’re a little distracting, Miller.” He chuckles at that, dipping down to steal a kiss that she chases after, deepening it in a way that has him groaning low from his chest. He pulls away with a smack, a dopey grin settling on his face.

“Oh yeah, I’m the distracting one.” She goes to reply, but is cut off by the feeling of a quick flip in her belly. She gasps, and Joel’s face crumples in concern, but she just takes his hands, guiding his palms to rest over the swell of her stomach. The flip comes again, but this time, Joel’s eyes widen, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as his eyes dart between her equally amazed expression and where his hands are resting on her belly. Another flip comes and he lets out a deep, rumbling laugh, his eyes crinkling up and a broad smile stretching across his face.

“Is that– is that what I think it is?” She giggles, nodding lightly.

“At least someone’s excited about all your woodworking talk.” As if on cue, another kick comes and they both laugh. Before she can figure out what he’s doing, Joel is already sinking down onto the floor with a groan.

“Joel, your knees–” He shushes her, his face now level with her belly.

“Listen, kid, your mama might not think it’s very interesting, but when you get here I’ll tell you all about dowels and bevels and fretwork. Gonna have you carving before you can walk.” She can’t help but laugh, running her fingers through his hair as he grins up at her.

“Lemme tell you something else while I’m down here. Your mama is an absolute menace–” She scoffs, tugging just a tad unkindly at his curls to get him to stand back up.

“Alright, I think that’s enough talk for one day.” He chuckles, stealing another chaste peck from her as his palms come back to squeeze at the plush of her thighs.

“Just telling him the facts, darlin.” She huffs at that, bringing her palms to rub over his chest.

“Still hoping it’s a boy, I see.” His grin is back as he shrugs.

“Just got a feeling, I guess.” All she can do is shake her head, pulling him in by his thin t-shirt for another kiss.

It is so definitely not a boy.

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller blurb #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #unexpected expectings

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 2 years

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You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.

... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.

I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.

First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?

Simply put - it hasn't.

When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'

And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.

Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.

What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?

What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?

Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.

There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)

Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?

Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.

Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?

...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?

That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!

She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.

Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?

Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.

Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.

But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.

That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.

It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.

It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.

Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.

Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.

Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.

So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.

I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.

But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.

I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.

A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.

Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.

Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'

Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.

Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?

Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.

Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.

Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.

Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.

Thassit.

#chekhov answers #steven universe

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orionsangel86 · 1 year

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Hob Gadling - A Queer Romantic?

I have been listening to The World's End chapters of The Sandman on Audible lately and just finished Hob's Leviathan. I didn't pay this story much attention when I first read the comic, as I tended to read through the stories quickly and put more focus into the stories where Dream had a larger role. But one of the reasons I like listening to the Audible book is because it allows me to absorb each story more thoroughly and take my time thinking about each one and the (usually multiple) meanings behind them.

Hob Gadling is a character that fandom has fallen in love with. I think this is clear to anyone that takes even a partial glance at Sandman fandom. This isn't a criticism - Ferdie's performance as Hob in the Netflix show has done wonders for Hob's character. He has made his version of Hob very easy to fall in love with!

But the truth is that in The Sandman comics, Hob is a minor character who we only get to know very little about. The story Hob's Leviathan appears in The Worlds End Sandman book. We only meet him twice before this, once in The Doll's House, where we are introduced to him in Men of Good Fortune, and again in Season of Mists when Dream comes to let him know that he may miss their next meeting. In both these issues, Hob is introduced via the narrator, and therefore I like to think that we are given a fairly honest representation of the kind of person he is. We watch him grow and learn throughout the centuries in MoGF, but one of the major takeaways from this I believe is that he tends to always be on the wrong side of history. He makes bad choices and can be a bit narrow minded. He is rude and selfish and also rather self-absorbed. I actually think that the performance of the voice actor who plays Hob in the Audible book emphasises these character flaws making him even more unlikeable in many ways, though I am aware that this could just be my own experience and opinion.

But Hob's Leviathan takes a different view of Hob. Literally. The narrator of this story is a young boy of 16 called Jim. Jim met Hob on a ship travelling from Bombay to Liverpool in 1914. Jim was working on the ship as a cabin boy and Hob had bought his passage back to England - though it is revealled at the end of the story that Hob actually owned the ship they were travelling on. It is clear that at this point in time, Hob is extremely wealthy.

Jim attends to Hob throughout the journey, and grows very fond of him. In Jim's tale, Hob is a good man, who is kind and thoughtful and cares about others. He saves the life of a stowaway (who turns out to be another immortal). He is shown to be patient, and funny, and very intelligent. Jim waxes poetic about how smart Hob is, and how much he impressed him. It is particularly clear in the Audible book that Jim is taken with Hob, to the point that it could arguably be a crush.

It is fascinating how much more likeable Hob is when narrated from the viewpoint of someone with a crush on him, whether this story is exaggerated through rose tinted glasses is of course something to consider. All the tales in World's End are just that, tales. There is a constant undercurrent of exaggeration and make believe to them where even the other patrons of the inn question elements to each of the stories. We are not supposed to take these stories as absolute fact, rather they are supposed to reveal to us more about the narrators as well as their own experiences existing in this magical and strange world.

When it is revealled that Jim is actually a girl called Peggy in disguise so they can get work on the ships, the quite obvious crush makes more sense to a heteronormative audience, but what I particularly like about this story is its queer potential. See in the comic, it isn't really clarified if Jim goes by Jim because they feel more themselves as a boy, rather than a girl, or if they are disguising themself as a boy just to get work as a means to an end. I would argue that the latter is the more obvious interpretation. Jim tells the other World's End patrons that they are getting too old to keep up the disguise and will eventually have to stop working in shipping, and that when that happens, they will take on a new name, a new identity and do something else, but that for now, the patrons can keep calling them Jim.

*for a lack of clarity around the point in the comic, I am going to use gender neutral pronouns for Jim going forward*

Now from Hob's POV, he figured out that Jim was a girl, and they talk about it briefly along with the sea serpent they saw. I think that at this point, Hob is impressively progressive compared to the previous times we have met him. Now whether or not this is biased storytelling from someone who has a crush on him remains to be seen, but if we take Jim's word as truth, not only is 1914 Hob a fair and honest man who is willing to pay the way of a stowaway and fully respect the secrets of a young girl disguised as a boy so they can work on ships, but he's also totally comfortable flirting with them.

I like that he calls Jim the "handsome cabin boy". I like that this version of Hob, whether real or an exaggeration skewed by Jim's feelings for him, respects Jim's identity. Jim may be a girl in disguise, but Hob doesnt call her pretty, he calls him handsome.

It's all just a bit subtly queer and I like that for Hob (But then I would do, I'm a Dreamling shipper HA)

When Jim finishes their story, they state that they didn't see Hob again after that, but the comics later do give us a possible outcome to Jim's story...

We next see Hob in The Kindly Ones where he is mourning the death of his girlfriend Audrey. He briefly reveals that Audrey was the first person he had loved since Peggy, who was his lover until her death during the Blitz. Whilst it isn't made clear that Hob's lover Peggy is the same Jim that we meet in World's End, it is a bit too much of a coincidence. The timing adds up. If Jim was 16 in 1914, they'd be in their early 40s during the Blitz. Hob remains forever in his early 30s so I'd say its a safe bet that Jim eventually found Hob again and they were together. Hob loved them enough that he wasn't with anyone again until Audrey in the 80s. That's 50 years worth of mourning. A long time not to be with anyone, even for an immortal.

It's funny because we know so little about Hob, but one thing that I have seen commented on here a lot is that comic Hob is deemed to be as Straight as an arrow. Now I admit that the voice actor in the Audible book plays him very straight, but that is still only one interpretation.

All this is to say that I am fascinated with how the Netflix show will adapt this, since Hob in the show already comes across much kinder and more selfless than his comic counterpart. He already has an entire fandom viewing him as queer, and the comics certainly don't outright shut down such interpretations. There are moments in the comics that you have to wonder on. He does call Jim handsome rather than pretty, and when he talks to Audrey's grave he mentions his wives and loves as separate groups. He talks about finding it easy to get sex if you want it, and he talks about it in generally gender neutral terms. In Sunday Mourning Gwen reveals that she thought he was gay when she first met him, though her reasonings were that he knew so many dead people (a dark reminder that these comics were published at the height of the Aids epidemic). He reacts very badly to the news of Morpheus' death. He states on several occassions just how much he liked Morpheus, and he is one of the few people to wake up from the Wake with tears running down his cheeks. I would arguably state that its between Hob and Matthew as to who had the worst reaction to Morpheus' death, showing just how much both Hob and Matthew cared about him, and placing Hob on par with Matthew in the comics is a big deal. He seriously considers accepting Death's gift when she offers it, simply because Morpheus is dead. He doesn't, because at the end of the day, its just not in his nature to do so, and given he then dreams of Morpheus, I like to think that it was a test, that he passed.

When it comes to how the show will adapt all this, I genuinely think it will take a new approach with Jim/Peggy. I think they will be either a trans man, or at least non binary. But I think having Jim be a trans man is the better option. In the comics, Jim's tale is only very subtly queer, Jim clearly likes being Jim, but it seems like its a means to an end, a convenience in order to get work on the ships, rather than being something that is core to Jim's feelings on their gender. Besides, if we assume that Jim is indeed the Peggy Hob talks about in The Kindly Ones, then we know that Jim goes back to being Peggy when they get older and apparently continues living as a woman whilst they are with Hob, otherwise I doubt Hob would have referred to one of his greatest loves by a name they themselves rejected and only used she/her pronouns when talking about them. Nevertheless there is no reason for the show to take this approach, and if they DO decide that Jim should be a trans man, then their relationship with Hob is canonically a queer one. Trans men are men and if one of Hob's greatest loves is a trans man, then Hob is a queer man himself. I genuinely believe the show will take this route and I can't wait to see it.

Going back to my point about narrators bias, if MoGF, SoM, tKO, and TW are all narrated by a neutral third party, then this must be the true Hob. A not overly likeable rather selfish man. He has his good points, and he has certainly grown and changed over the centuries, and carries a lot of guilt for his past mistakes, but he is still quite self absorbed. Jim paints a picture of a rose tinted Hob that is far more the dreamy romantic older gentleman that took a young person under his wing. Which is fair enough.

The show is of course its own adaptation, with changes from the comics as it sees fit, but I do feel it's my duty to remind you that the show also has a narrator guiding the audience through its many stories. Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, King of Nightmares and Prince of Stories himself. Take from that whatever you will.

;-)

#why yes i did just imply that show!hob comes across so likeable because we are seeing him from Dream's POV #what of it?#lmao #sandman meta #the sandman #sandman analysis #hob gadling #dreamling #dream of the endless #the worlds end #sandman comic spoilers #major sandman comic spoilers #the sandman comics

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fourmoony · 10 months

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I cannot stop thinking about infatuated Remus x reader in the library 🙏 I’m dying for a part two of their date - maybe where Remus shows reader the constellations and there’s lots of sweet fluff and vulnerability and flustered Remus <3

i can't stop thinking about them either! maybe i could make a lil mini-series out of them???? maybe. thanks for requesting, lovely! hope you enjoy!

1.6k remus x fem!reader fluff language probably completely wrong astrology information

masterlist

"Are you cold?"

You're sitting across from Remus on a blanket he stole from Lily. He's not sorry about stealing it, but he is sorry that he didn't think to steal another to wrap around you. It's the middle of December and even though you're bundled up in one of the university's merch jumpers and a puffy jacket, Remus is worried this date is his worst idea - like, ever - and that you're going to freeze to death. But despite the cold, thin air, you're smiling happily over at Remus, gloved hands wrapped around a cheap hot chocolate from the canteen and your cheeks rounded out in a smile.

You look so gorgeous, Remus thinks. Your nose has gone slightly red from the cold, and your cheeks have followed suit, but your eyes are glistening with the glow of the festive fairy lights hanging from the lampposts in the distance that line the walk ways of the university grounds. He'd really like to kiss you, he thinks. He has done. Twice, since that day in the library. It'd made his knees buckle both times. Once, leaving the pub a little tipsy and dazed, high off of the flirtatious talking and touching all night, pressed up against the wall with the smell of smoke in the air, and once more when he'd dropped you off at your flat door. That one had been sweet, much softer than the one outside of the pub. A simple goodnight followed by bashful smiles and a heartfelt promise to see each other again soon.

He doesn't kiss you, but he does rub a doting hand up and down your leg, attempting to bring some warmth to it under your thin leggings, even when you protest and promise him devotedly that you're okay. How could you not be? You're there with him, after all. Remus concedes under your assurances, moving so he's directly next to you. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of your perfume, the strawberry of your shampoo, and he's so beyond grateful you've given him an opportunity to be so close to you, again.

"So, are you gonna tell me why we're out here?" You ask Remus, head turned and tilted to look up at him.

You're giving him that smile. The one that makes his chest hurt and his blood thrum in his veins. The one that he likes to believe means you're happy to be spending time with him, that you're enjoying yourself, that you'd be happy to be out here counting the blades of iced over grass just because he's there. You'd never admit it if he asked, but you know in yourself it's true. You'd sit here all night freezing your arse off with shitty canteen hot chocolate just to spend time with Remus Lupin. It's sick, honestly. Marlene would laugh at you something awful.

Remus hums, eyes flitting to your lips distractedly before he remembers himself, "The stars."

It's a poor explanation, Remus knows, but he hopes you remember your tipsy giggles, the way you'd gushed about how pretty the stars were this deep into the countryside, and how you'd love to know everything you possibly could about every last one. Well. Remus isn't good at a lot. He's constantly forgetting to remove his reds from his washing and dying all of his clothes pink, he can't cook to save his life, he can't sing, or wax poetic, but he can sure as hell lie on the freezing cold ground in the middle of December and tell you about the constellations. For goodness sakes, it's part of his degree.

The excited smile that comes over your face does absolutely nothing good for Remus' heart rate nor his sanity. He thinks you're going to drive him mad. James says it's not possible. He did, eventually, ask if your beauty could be a leading factor in Remus' inevitable death via heart attack and James confidently told him that it's simply not possible. Remus disagrees. What does he know, anyway? He's not even fully qualified, yet. Idiot.

"Ooooh," You shimmy impossibly closer to Remus excitedly, eyes alight with joy, and pull him to lay down with you.

He complies, your bodies pressed together and emulating a warmth that shouldn't be possible for the minus two degree weather. It startles Remus how right this all feels. You're here, with him. Pressed comfortably to his side, your left hand threaded through his right, puffs of cold air coming from your mouths and fading away into the night air. He'd not sure what he ever did to deserve such an opportunity, but he'll be damned if he's not going to make the most of it. Of his time with you.

"Okay, so, this one." You point to a cluster of stars directly above you both with the hand that's not interlocked with his.

Remus does his best to follow, mapping with his eyes the collection of stars you've pointed to. "That's Orion. Most visible in the UK during the winter, supposed to be January til' April, but it's a really clear night, I s'pose."

You hum to show you're listening, lips parted ever so slightly, and Remus extends his own hand, "If you follow southeast from here," he wiggles his finger and you press the index finger of yours to his, following his line with a giggle, "it leads to Sirius."

"Brightest star in the sky." You whisper, voice in awe of the bright, twinkling star just right of you both.

Remus scoffs. Hell if he'd ever forget it, he's heard his best friend proclaim it enough times. You seem to come to this realisation, too, laughing and pushing the side of your face into Remus' shoulder. He rests his head atop yours, allowing you to take the warmth and hiding place from him, continues on in his mini-astronomy lesson with a finger pointed at a new collection of stars.

"Ursa Major is over here," His voice is a quiet murmur, careful and sticky sweet, "It's like, one of the most famous in the Northern Hemisphere. It's known as 'The Great Bear'."

He looks down to find you staring at the cluster of stars with a smile he can't read. He thinks it's you realising how big the universe is, how small you and Remus are, in comparison. Remus would disagree. He thinks wherever this thing with you goes, his feelings are going to carry on throughout the entirety of the universe. He's sure of that much. And listen, he's studied an astounding amount about the universe, it's gravitational pulls, the sheer size of it, the possibility that there are more out there. He's spent hours upon hours writing thesis papers, studying the actual cold hard facts, the universe is massive. That's a simple statement in and of itself.

But Remus knows. He knows for damn well sure that he's going to fall head over heels in love with you, and he's going to make sure that love fills every single bit of the universe there is to cover. He's not an idiot, though. He's not going to tell you that on the first - official, anyway - date. He thinks maybe you're having a similar thought process, though. At least, he'd like to think.

"Do you ever think about how tiny we actually are?" Your voice is soft, awe stricken, almost, and he doesn't have to look down at you to know your kind eyes are still roaming the night sky.

He makes an amused sort of hum, lips tilting into a cocky smirk and you meet his gaze, a questioning look lingering there. "Well, no. 'Cause I'm a whopping six foot and you're five foot nothing, love."

Your eyes light up when you scoff, using your free hand to whack at his chest and Remus laughs. It's loud and it's obnoxious but you're laughing too. His eyes find yours again, soft and careful, hoping you can read just how genuine he's being when he tells you, "All the time. In the grand scheme of things, we are specks of nothingness. At least, I used to think that."

Your brows furrow, Remus reaches up to pad his thumb over the crease lines before you can even talk, "Why don't you anymore?"

Remus shrugs. Is it too sappy to admit you've singlehandedly changed his opinion on such a subject in the three weeks he's properly known you? Is that coming on too strong?

You're looking up at him, soft lips parted, waiting on an answer and Remus decides fuck it, he's not going to ever refrain from telling you how much power you have over him. "You."

"Me?"

Remus nods, the ghost of an overly fond smile on his lips as he reaches up to push a fallen strand of hair away from your face, "Yeah. How could a girl like you be anything like an insignificant speck of nothingness?"

You both preen at and shy away from his praise, his flirtatious comment, and Remus feels his heart thrashing against his ribs at the way you whine his name. He chuckles softly as crimson takes over your neck and cheeks, an obvious change from the wind bitten skin from before. He smiles cheekily, chasing the line of your sight, head dipping to meet it.

"I'm serious, you know." He tells you.

You look transfixed for a moment. Ethereal. Entirely too beautiful and enamoured with his words. He's about to kiss you when your own cheeky grin comes over your face, eyes bright as you turn to point at the sky, "No, silly," You chide jokingly, "That's Sirius."

And oh, for fucks sake, Remus is well and truly done for.

#marauders #fourmoonysasks #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x reader #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #love #fluff #regulus black

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toournextadventure · 2 years

Note

Wednesday texting reader sappy msgs as reader had to leave and enid steals weds phone and searches it

So like Wednesday's lockscreen is reader her homescreen too

Wednesday has reader saved as some cute little thing too

Just pure fluff!!

Wednesday is secretly a simp, we all know this

you simp

Ever since you had left for break, Enid had to suffer through Wednesday’s phone going off every 20 seconds. At first she had thought it was sweet to know that she was finally getting use out of the phone you had gifted her a few months ago. She would sit there and wonder what you were both talking about considering the relationship seemed to be far more you talking, Wednesday listening.

But if she had to hear one more ding at 4am, she was going to throw the damn phone out of the window.

It was 4:30 in the morning and Enid had been listening to Wednesday’s phone vibrate since 10 last night. She wanted to sleep, it would have been easier if you two would just call on the phone like normal people. But no, you two just had to be texting the whole night because it’s not like Wednesday had a roommate or anything!

She waited impatiently until Wednesday got up and went to the bathroom, foolishly leaving her phone where Enid could easily confiscate it. In her defense, the intent had not been to be nosy! It didn’t really matter to her what you were both talking about (though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious). All she wanted to do was hide the phone for the rest of the night so she could get a little bit of sleep.

Now, if the phone just so happened to light up when she was holding it, it was coincidental. And if the sight of you as the lock screen was enough to spark her curiosity, then she could be forgiven for being a little bit nosy. After all, the secretive, stoic Wednesday Addams had her partner as her lock screen? Her smiling partner?

The fact that there was no passcode on the phone was entirely Wednesday’s fault. It was the easiest thing in the world to unlock the phone and, what do you know, a picture of the two of you was her home screen. And Wednesday was smiling! Enid could have fainted from the surprise right then and there. Why on earth would Wednesday hide such an adorable smile. And how on earth did you manage to get a picture of it? She had to know your secrets.

The phone vibrated again, and Enid swore on her life she hadn’t meant to pry. But she saw your name pop up as “Mi Amor” with a black heart beside it. How could she not look? Oh god, Enid felt herself swoon at everything she saw. Wednesday was practically waxing poetic to you with every text, getting more and more sappy as the night dragged on.

Enid felt her own cheeks getting hot at how ridiculously romantic Wednesday was. No one would have ever guessed she even had the capability for such kind words, but the amount of times she lauded you was incredible. The pet names, the poetry, the absolute love she sent you time after time. She never would have guessed Wednesday capable or even willing of such love.

Well. She was her father’s daughter.

“What are you doing?”

Oh shit. Enid nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of Wednesday. She was standing there in the middle of the room, giving Enid a look that meant she definitely wasn’t playing around. Which Enid knew, but she never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

“I wasn’t snooping,” Enid defended quickly. But the phone vibrated again and Enid’s eyes instantly looked down to read it before looking back up to see Wednesday’s death glare.

“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Wednesday threatened.

“Listen,” Enid held her hands up in surrender, “I never knew you were such a romantic.”

Wednesday gave Enid a look. Only one. Then one big breath in, one slow exhale. That was all it took before Wednesday started after Enid. Enid let out a scream and started running, the phone still in her hands. Wednesday was going to kill her, this was how she was going to die. She typed out a message on the phone to send to you really quickly.

Your girlfriend is going to kill me, send help!

She hoped you would save her. Apparently, you were the only one who could.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #requests

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bumpkinspice0 · 10 months

Text

Parallels: Chapter 14 The Predator

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: With Miguel in full rage mode, it’s up to you to save the day . But what happens after you finally stop the anomaly?

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, blood kink, biting, feral Miguel, borderline marking (don’t fucking look at me) fingering, oral f receiving , rough sex, possessive Miguel, waxing poetic about cumming (I said don’t fucking look at me!!!)

A/N: Sorry this took a while! My only excuse is that I was WAY over thinking this chapter and I also started another fic because why not. I hope this being absolutely filthy makes up for the wait....

Previous - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 14

The Predator

This must be what mice feel like under the gaze of a cat. Like a rabbit that wandered into a foxhole. A spider caught in her own web— completely helpless.

The man you admire stalks towards you with inhuman, jerky movements. Whatever Kraven had poisoned him with had burned through his power suppressants and left you with the part of him you still didn’t fully understand. The part of him you both feared— now walking free.

He’s right in front of you now, your head hanging directly at his eye level. He leans closer and you shiver as you feel his hot breath against your neck. You need to break your restraints, you need to move but panic freezes over your limbs.

“Miguel,” You say softly, “It’s me. I-it’s me. Fight it.”

Your spider-sense is ringing in your ears and you’re not entirely sure what it’s telling you. You can only assume it’s doing the same for him.

“Arañita,” He draws back, his piercing red eyes shooting right through you. You can see the battle raging behind them. The struggle within himself. He recognizes you, yes, but is he in control?

Mocking laughter takes his attention away from you. Kraven is perched in a tree just above.

“There you are,” he says pridefully, “There is the beast worthy of my prowess. Let the true hunt begin!”

Miguel roars, leaping after the crazed hunter. His movements are more powerful than you’ve ever seen. You feel every reverberation of his powerful claws as he scales the trees. You swear you hear the massive redwood crack through its center as he does so. His every move was lethal— deadly. A killing machine.

And it’s exactly what Kraven wanted.

The hunter bounds from branch to branch again, giving Miguel chase with a chorus of maniacal laughter. He was enjoying this way too much. And here you were, dangling by your own webs— helpless.

Miguel brought you here to help him, to be a team. So you’re going to help him.

You manage to swing yourself to the tree trunk the snare trap was attached to. You stand horizontally, your feet easily sticking to the bark. With yourself anchored down it was much easier to get the proper leverage to break your webs. With one final flex, you shrug them off and immediately follow Miguel and Kraven.

You couldn’t see them anymore but they were making enough noise to alert the entire forest. Several small critters run through the branches in the opposite direction. Follow the sound of breaking twigs and masculine roars and you’d be on their tail in no time. Who needs a spider-sense.

Even in the panic you still find yourself on high alert with your surroundings. Kraven had laid traps that stopped both of you already. Who knows how much of the forest he boobytrapped. Who knows if Miguel could even sense them anymore in his state.

This wasn’t just about catching an anomaly anymore. This was about protecting Miguel. Protecting him from himself. You have no idea how you’re going to do it but you have to get them separated, get Kraven in a cage, and get Miguel calm and somewhere safe.

You’re fucking Spider-Woman. This should be easy… That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

They’re fast but you still manage to catch up. You keep a loose pursuit a few dozen yards back. The two men too distracted with fighting each other to bother with you. If you keep stealthy you can work this situation exactly like the Electro mission. Miguel distracts while you capture. You don’t have any of the cyber traps but you could still web him up. At least long enough to kick him into a portal.

If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

Miguel grabs Kraven’s ankles and they both plummet to the forest floor. Perfect. You shoot to the upper branches. With the higher vantage point, you’d have a clear shot with your webs. Luck seems to be on your side for once in this whole fucking ordeal.

They grapple and wrestle wildly around the ground. You just needed a split second of an opening and you’d have him. It’s all you needed— Just a second.

Miguel pins the hunter to the tree you’ve perched yourself in. The force of the impact ripples all the way up the trunk. The wood groans and cracks in protest. They haven’t spotted you, your form still concealed by the branches.

This is it. It’s your chance to end this. He’s right there. Miguel raises a mighty claw to the hunter and you ready your spinnerets.

It happens all within a fraction of a second.

You shoot a web. Kraven twists out of Miguel’s grasp just as his claw comes down. Kraven slips away with practiced ease and Miguel slices through the tree. With your web's original target now gone, it explodes on the ground at Miguel’s feet. His gaze shoots up directly to you— A gaze completely devoid of the man you know.

Well fuck.

He begins to crawl to you, Kraven completely forgotten behind him. A thunderous snap rings out of the wood from Miguel’s claw marks at the base. The tree gives one final groan before cracking under its own weight. The tree begins to tip backward, yet Miguel seems unbothered by it. He had a new target.

Double fuck.

“Forget her!” Kraven yells as he pulls Miguel back, “I will deal with her next.”

You leap from the falling tree, swinging yourself to safety on a nearby branch. The two men below you continue their constant power struggle, seemingly unbothered by the falling giant next to them. Seems like Miguel took Kraven’s advice. He’d forgotten about you.

You don’t know much about how Miguel works when he’s in this state. He didn’t have a strategy or the same carefully planned movements you were used to. It was only rage. Unbridled rage.

There were only the things in front of him. Whatever caught his attention. That’s what he could focus on. That’s what he was capable of. You couldn’t take a passive role here and just wait for an opening like you planned. If you had any chance of getting to Miguel, you still had to separate them.

What better way to do that than to forcefully insert yourself.

“Please be able to sense me coming, big guy,” You shoot a web across the clearing where the two were fighting. You grasp it tightly and take a deep breath that comes out more as an irritated sigh, “Tallyho.”

You swing.

Your prayers are answered and Miguel seems to sense you, ducking out of the way of your dramatic entrance. Your feet make contact with Kraven’s face, your full momentum sending him flying several feet. You roll to a stop, poised perfectly between the two men.

You’re back to Miguel. You can feel his rage. His anger. His confusion. You slowly turn to face him, peeling off your mask as you do so. There was no need for it here. You feel the shared buzzing in your head amplify as recognition flashes across Miguel's face, just for a moment. He feels it too. Primal instincts ruled him now. The spider-sense tells him what your words never could.

We’re on the same team.

“Stupid girl!” Kraven shouts behind you, “You interfere with destiny!”

“You’re interfering with reality, so I think you have me beat.” You spit back.

“Do not come between a hunter and his prey.”

“A little late for that, buddy.” You scoff.

Miguel roars, bounding over you and directly for Kraven. The hunter leaps for him too.

Within a fraction of a second, you make a decision. Maybe you couldn’t separate them like this, not when instinct ruled the fight. Not when they were so much stronger than you. If you couldn’t get them apart then you had to move them together, just like when you brought Miguel back home from his dystopian mission all those weeks ago.

You don’t have to play by The Hunter's rules. Take Kraven out of his element and force him into yours. Get him in chains then help Miguel. And the plan was still the same as the old one… forcefully insert yourself.

Time seems to speed up again and the two predators are bounding for each other right above your head. In mid-air, they’re the most vulnerable. You leap between them, a portal springing from your wrist as you do so. All three of you tumble through together and blip across reality.

The trip back to the tower was long considering the position of this universe in the multiverse. You could jump to most realities in a matter of seconds, here you would be traveling through wormholes for just over a minute—a minute with these two raging men. An eternity by multiverse travel standards. You could do it. You could keep them under control. It’s only a minute.

You’re quite literally trapped in the chaos. Both of them seemingly unbothered by the sudden change of environment continue fighting while you struggle to get free from the tussle. Not the most ideal situation but at least you’re out of the booby-trapped forest. Once you’re in the tower everything will be okay.

It’s only a minute.

Sandwiched between the two raging men, you kick both your feet as hard as you can, effectively using your body as a crowbar. You spiral through the wormhole with Kraven, Miguel trailing further behind. They’re both in front of you now, Kraven crawling to get closer to you and Miguel clawing to get closer to Kraven.

You take advantage of the newly established distance and ready your webs at Kraven. If you could subdue him just a little, this whole thing would be so much easier. You shoot but he’s still too quick. He grabs the web and pulls you into him. It’s moments like this you wish you had claws.

He pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing every ounce of air from your lungs. You swear you hear bones crack.

“You couldn’t say out of it could you, dorogoy!” He growls in your ear, “You want this to be your fight so bad? Fine.”

Just past his shoulder, you can see Miguel is nearly on both of you now, claws ragging and fangs bared. With a loud grunt of effort, Kraven quickly flips you both around. Before you even have time to guess his plan, you feel it— a stabbing pressure in your neck and warm blood trickling down. Movements too fast Miguel couldn’t stop himself until it was too late.

He’d bitten you, venom now injecting into your veins. Paralizing venom meant for Kraven.

Miguel removes his mouth from your shoulder and the instant he does your spider-sense explodes in your head. Fear, confusion, anger, rage— you cycle through every emotion in an instant as venom starts to pulse through your body. In the slew of feelings, one stands prominent. Panic. Sheer panic.

You can’t see his face behind you, but you can feel him— the same as you. Panicking, even amid his animalistic rage he’s still a man. Still your Miguel. You swear you can hear his thoughts screaming in your head.

What did I do? What did I do?!

A mocking chuckle starts in Kraven’s throat again. You don’t want him to have it, a moment of victory. He hasn’t stopped either of you. Not yet. You still have precious seconds before you’re paralyzed and useless. Seconds you won’t waste.

You swing your head forward, colliding with Kraven’s. You feel his nose crunching under your forehead. It’s enough for his grip to loosen just enough. You leap from between the two of them, webbing Kraven’s hands together in the process. You pull him forward away from Miguel, now left trailing behind again.

The exit portal sneaks up on you— your one minute is up. You burst into the 2099 reality dragging the Kraven anomaly on a leash. You pull him from the portal and swing him into the closest wall. You’d teleported to Miguel’s lab. You can feel your brain fogging. Limbs weakening. Contain him— now. That’s all you had to do.

You quickly look around for anything you can use. By some stroke of luck, a pile of cyber traps sat on a nearby desk. You throw one without hesitation. Before Kraven can get back on his feet he’s trapped in a glowing cage of energy.

It’s done. The bots can take care of the rest. It’s over.

Finally, Miguel bursts from the portal behind you. Oh yeah, you think briefly.

It’s not like last time though. He’s not all ragging claws and gnashing teeth. He sits there, crouched down and completely still. The portal blips from existence and an eerie silence fills the room. It’s then that you notice something. You feel— fine.

The effects of Miguel’s venom are nearly instantaneous, you’d seen it before, yet here you stand completely okay. You lightly touch the wound on the apex of your shoulder and neck and pull your hand away. You don’t know what you expect to see, maybe neon green mixed with crimson red, something alien and inexplicable, but it’s just blood. It’s just blood and you’re just fine.

But what about Miguel?

He still sits there, unmoving. You dare to take a step closer. “Miguel?”

“Don’t” he growls, his shoulders tensing. “Finish it.”

You glance down and see his claws digging into the floor, pulling up the metal paneling. He’s trying to get himself under control. You quickly turn to grab a dose of his suppressants when that fucking voice stops you.

“Oh, this I did not expect,” Kraven laughs from his small prison in the corner. “A viper can not poison one of its own. And here I thought I’d get you out of the way. You two are of the same making, no? Well, what does this mean?”

“Shut. Up.” You sneer at him. You hear Miguel’s claws digging deeper into the floor— holding himself back.

Don’t let him provoke you.

“Perhaps this is still your fight, dorogoy,” the hunter tuts, “A shame I’m not part of it, though.”

Miguel turns to him, his face completely cast in shadow. Only the reds of his eyes seen from the dark void, “She said… shut up.”

Kraven’s expression shifts. His eyebrows raise in amusement, a sickening smile curving in the corners of his mouth. “Oh. Oh, I see. Not a fight but… perhaps something else. You both reek of it. Desire.”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Miguel heaves. You feel like you can’t move.

“You’re part of her now, flowing through her veins. You’ve claimed her,” His disgusting words send shivers down your spine, “Or have you claimed her already, beast?”

The tension snaps. Miguel hurdles toward the cage. Claws and blades clash against the force field with an ugly static crack. He moves so fast his arms are almost a blur, struggling to break past the barrier. A raging frenzy to get closer to his target. Kraven doesn’t move, standing still with that gut-wrenching smile never once faltering. He didn’t win the fight, sure, but he’s enjoying taunting Miguel.

You’ve decided you’ve had enough of this madness— from both of them.

“Miguel!” you scream so loud it echoes through the entire lab. Miguel freezes, glancing over his shoulder at you. You should be afraid of him, and maybe some part of you is, but you know who he is. The man underneath all of this, “He’s not worth it.”

He remains frozen. You’re not sure if he’s debating if you’re right or not— or if he’s just trying to fight the animal inside. Eventually, he steps away with a loud grunt, crawling back into the shadows.

A faint sigh of relief passes through your lips, “Lyla, get him out of here.” you call to the room. Several bots crawl into view and begin taking the cage out.

Kraven’s eyes were glued to you, that sickening, amused smile still there, “Do svidaniya, dorogoy.” You hold back the urge to spit in his direction until the door shuts behind him.

He’s gone. Now just one more thing to deal with.

You grab the injection gun from his desk. Miguel sits in a dark corner facing the wall. You approach him cautiously, dampener serum in hand.

“Mig?” You coo softly, “Let’s take care of you.”

“Leave it.” He growls through gritted teeth, “I’ll… do it myself.”

“You can’t,” You take another step closer.

He whips around, a spine-chilling sound rumbling from his throat. “Just… go.” his words dripped with rage. With something inhuman. He’s fighting so hard to be present.

You can’t just leave with him like this. How can he expect you to just walk away now? Even though you're annoyed by his insistence, you understand why. He’s still ashamed. He’s scared of what he’ll do and with good reason.

I don’t want you to see me like this.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to just leave him.

“No.” You stand your ground. “You don’t scare me, Mig.”

“I should,” He stands, lumbering toward you, massive arms hanging low at his sides. Each heavy step closer sends a shock wave up your body, “Look what happened.”

He grabs your injured shoulder forcefully. He stares down at the fresh bite mark, blood still weakly dripping from it. There was almost no pain with it anymore, but maybe… something else.

You feel the spider-sense stir between you.

“But it’s okay,” you assure him softly, “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“But we didn’t know that,” He grits out, “We didn’t know you’d—”

A pained moan escapes his lips and he steps away. You feel it rising— the heat in your belly.

“Please,” he whimpers, “Just go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You stand still for a moment, debating if you really should. If you even could. Is something calling you to stay with him or is it just your own selfish desires? You decide you don’t care. You feel it now stronger than you ever have. The need for him. His smell. His taste— everything.

You step towards him again, into the shadows. You place your hand on his chest, letting the touch linger for a moment. You feel his heart beating at a record pace.

“You could never hurt me.”

It all comes crashing down, both of your paper-thin resistance. He attacks your mouth hungrily, bringing you both to your knees. You drop the injector gun, leaving it long forgotten on the floor. He crawls on top of you, you cling to whatever part of him you can.

It’s a frenzy. A feverish, lustfully brawl you want to surrender your entire body to. In a way you already have. The sense sings and moans with the two of you in a way it never had before. Something deep and primal and sick— you loved it.

His mouth is on your neck, trailing across your throat to the bloody mark he’s made. He pauses when he gets to it, his lips hovering just above the bloody bite. Your skin pricks in anticipation, for what exactly, you don’t know.

He licks a long, hot stripe across the mark before bringing his mouth completely down on it. You don’t expect it. Electricity shoots through your entire being. You grab at his head, not to pull him away, but to push him closer— impossibly closer. He moans at your encouragement, drinking from your neck like it’s the holy grail itself.

You fucking love it. Why do you love it? Why do you want him so badly this way? Questions that shoot through your head at warp speed but you decide you don’t really care to answer any of them. You don’t care about the why anymore. You just want him.

He comes off you with a gasp, blood smearing his mouth. His eyes are lidded and dazed as he looks down at you. The look sends a wave of arousal straight to your core— and it doesn’t go unnoticed. A predatory spark flashes across his face and he descends on you again.

His massive hands wrap around your midsection, squeezing roughly. You can feel him trembling. He drops his forehead to yours, “Do you feel it, Arañita?”

“Yes.” you breathe.

He closes his eyes, breathing you in slowly, “Tell me to stop.”

Your hands come up to his chest again, his suit fading away in an instant. His breathing is heavy and ragged. You could stop this all now. You should stop this— but—-

“Never,” you pull him into another kiss, blood still fresh on his lips. He moans into you before taking control again.

He turns you around onto your hands and knees, ripping a sloppy line down the back of your suit. The material falls away, exposing you to him entirely. He grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back and licking a long stripe up the length of your spine. The sensation nearly makes your knees give out.

“Oh god,” you hear him murmur against your skin, “Look at you. Fucking look at you.”

“Miguel, please,” You whine. You need him. You fucking need him now.

“Poor thing,” He growls, fingers ghosting over your waiting cunt. He pushes one in, slowly. You bite your lip, suppressing the moan he’s pulling out of you, “So wet for me. Always so goddamn wet for me. Such a good girl.”

He adds another finger and the air in your lungs dries up into a breathless gasp. He pumps into you, once— twice— Three times. Lude wet sounds fill the massive space. He rips his hand from you, and you almost scream at the sensation, the sudden emptiness. Then you hear it again, lustful, sickening wet sounds followed by muffled moans— He’s licking his fingers clean of you.

His wet hands grab your hips roughly with a loud slap. He pulls you back towards him, dragging you along the floor. You preen under him, arching your hips higher.

“So filthy,” he growls, squeezing your hips to the point of bruising.

He comes down on you again. You scream when you feel his tongue dragging through your slick folds, stopping just at the edge of your seam, the bridge of his nose nudging at your hole. He greedily laps at you, pulling the most sinful sounds from your throat. You fall on your forearms, displaying yourself even more for him. The position was so vulnerable yet so delicious. You were at his full mercy.

And again, he fucking pulls away.

You whine, nearly screaming from the loss this time. But he doesn’t let you move, hands still firmly grasping your hips.

“Shhh, Arañita.” His wet lips hover along your back again, kisses placed along their trail up your spine. You finally feel his hard length resting on your ass. He pulls himself down and slicks himself through your folds. Already overstimulated, it feels like heaven.

He jerks you back, and in one fluid motion completely buries himself inside you. Your face contorts into a silent scream, the stretched pain easily melting into pleasure. He holds you there, just for a moment. His breath is already heavy and ragged. You feel every inch of him. You feel him throbbing inside you.

“T-take me so well, baby,” You swear he spits it through clenched teeth. He drags you off him painfully slowly and slams you back at light speed. You choke out a delighted moan, “Tan jodidamente buena.”

He starts a punishing pace, using you as he sees fit.

You reach down to your aching clit in dire need of relief. His hand instantly swats yours away, his fingers quickly working over your swollen bud. He leans over you, his free arm practically caging you in while his hips keep up their brutal pace. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, right next to the bite mark.

“Who makes you feel this good?” He growls in your ear, “Say it.”

By some divine miracle, you're able to form speech.

“Y-you do,” you moan back, “Only you.”

“That’s right. Only I can fuck you like this. Only me.” He says it like the most assured thing in the world, and you know he’s right. His fingers work quicker over your clit, sending you to a new high. You’re close. So fucking close.

His mouth comes back down on you, suckling again at the bloody mark he’d left. He’s consuming you in every sense of the word— at his full mercy.

You know you surely scream loud enough for the entire tower to hear, and you don’t fucking care.

You come like a crack of thunder, loud and ungodly powerful. It surges through you, ripping you apart and rebuilding you again from the atomic level. A numb, euphoric moment where you're drifting on the clouds of the world, experiencing all of creation at once before plummeting back down to earth in a flaming ball that threatens to burn you up entirely. You almost want the flames to consume you if it meant you could be like this with him forever.

Then you’re finally gasping for air again, Miguel still pounding into you like a fever dream.

“Oh god,” A pained groan drools out of his mouth. “S-so– so tight when you come.”

He pulls you both backward, holding you there on your knees while he continues to fuck up into you. He held you close to him while he chased his pleasure now. You arch back into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. His fingers haven’t left your throbbing clit, nearly blinding you with how sensitive you were now. His other hand drags along your body, coming up to squeeze your breast. Every small movement on your skin was like fire.

You’re an absolute mess. A stammering, over-stimulated, cock drunk mess. You feel your vocal cords straining yet can’t seem to stop yourself from wailing out in pure ecstasy.

His movements have become more desperate so close to release. He pounds harder and harder until he’s falling down around you with a choked gasp. His quivering muscles cage in around you as he pumps you full of everything he has. You feel him throbbing, his cock straining inside you until he’s completely spent.

He relaxes, his giant form pinning you down to the floor. The steady breathing of his chest pushing into you as you both gather yourself.

It’s seconds, it’s years, you don’t know how long it is until you both move. He rolls off of you slowly, a pained grunt he tries to hide when he slips out of you. It all leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh and instantly sending a cold shiver up your spine when it meets the air. You both lay there shoulder to shoulder, naked in a glistening mess— completely unsure of what to say now.

Whatever you’d both just done, what you’d experienced, was indescribable.

You see him reach over and grab the injector gun, shooting the dose into his shoulder instantly— though you’re not entirely sure he needed it anymore.

“Told you I could do it myself,” Miguel sighs as he lays back down next to you.

“Such a big boy,” You taunt him, rolling over to cuddle up to his side.

He pulls you in without hesitation. He places a kiss on the top of your head before letting a final deep breath sigh from his mouth. You expect him to suddenly come back to reality. To remember all the blood and start profusely apologizing. To beg you to leave so you didn’t have to look at him anymore and get back to work, his whole usual shtick.

Instead, he says something you never expected.

“Let’s go home.”

__________

Miguel needs to stop making promises to himself he can’t keep.

You’re in his bed again, curled up in one of his shirts fast asleep. You’re staying the night— again. It didn’t feel right to just send you home after what you’d both been through, but maybe he just didn’t want you to leave either.

He can’t sleep, sitting up and watching you as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Part of him hopes you would just vanish, then it would mean none of this was ever real. There’d be no consequences and he could go on living his life without the looming threat of you being gone one day.

To his simultaneous disdain and relief, you’re still soundly sleeping in his bed.

He runs his finger over the bandages now adorning your neck. Various other scrapes and bruises from him were scattered around your body. It should be completely healed by morning but he’ll always know what he did to you. He’ll always know what you both did tonight.

It’s not something he can explain, and if he’s being honest he doesn’t want to think about it either. Something took over him, of both of you— and he loved it. A part of himself he’d fought for years to keep caged was out and it felt amazing. It was amazing because you were there for it all. You did something to him.

But what would happen if you weren’t there? This is the second time you’ve saved his ass. The second time he’d dragged you specifically into trouble he’d created. He’d never needed rescuing before. Had he gone soft? Or was he perhaps going at everything too hard? He doesn’t know for certain but he’s sure of one thing— it was better when you were there.

Yes… you’d definitely changed something in him, and he’s not entirely sure it’s for the better.

He was a protector. He stood up for those who couldn’t do it themselves, for his community, for his colleagues, the whole universe at large. Yet here you were, saving him from himself again. It wasn’t right. It was unfair to put his burden on your shoulders too. You didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did he really.

You’d both known from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be anything. It was only an arrangement out of necessity until he could free you both. A freak coincidence. And now it’d become so much more, hadn’t it? He wants to kick himself for letting it get this far. He knows better. But when it came to you, he just couldn’t help himself.

It can’t continue. He had the means to end it and he will. The serum is ready and waiting. The cure. You’d likely hate him forever, and that’s fine. He’ll be fine with seeing you live your life from a distance, knowing you’d both be safer for it. That’s what you’d both agreed upon after all, wasn’t it?

Yeah, he really needed to stop making promises he couldn’t keep.

Tonight, he’ll just hold you close. Memorize every line on your face. Every valley of your body. The sound of your breathing. He’ll lock the memory of you deep down and hold it close so it never gets out again. Tonight, you’re still his.

Tomorrow, he’ll finally put an end to this madness.

____________

Translations:

Arañita- Little Spider dorogoy- Darling or dear Do svidaniya, dorogoy- Goodbye, dear Tan jodidamente buena- So Fucking good

And of course do Correct me if any of this is wrong <3 I'm gonna go touch some grass now bye

____________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #parallels fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader

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thornswoggled · 3 months

Text

yori is fumiki and heres why: my manifesto

or: wait, we werent all on the same page about this?

i should have written this when i first read chapter 98, but im only getting around to it now. this is less me trying to convince you, the reader, and more hoarding all my collected thoughts on why yori is absolutely fumiki, if its a red herring its a silly one, and if he isnt or if its left ambiguous forever i will eat crow. here we go:

before i start let me say most of my evidence is the way yamazaki frames him visually rather than solid "proof." comics are an artform, theres a reason things get framed the way they do, and her artistic choices in ch 98 (i feel) are meant to serve as a big blinking neon light that says "you should be feeling this way about xyz right now"

iic, there were rumblings of "the young auditor" being fumiki as far back as his introduction in ch 51 due to to his unique ability:

which is essentially a refined version of fumikis innate ability to keep fae away. we know yori is part of a "family business," and it seems appropriate that with the proper training, he would be able to freeze fae in their tracks rather than simply ward them off

unfortunately this is where "evidence" ends and "vibes" begin

chapter 51 didnt get adapted into what was otherwise a pretty faithful adaptation in season 2, and i understand why - theres a lot going on, and this chapter is fairly out of left field. but theres one other quip that got left out of season 2:

this is a one-off thought that wouldnt have been difficult to include in the anime. imo, i believe this line from ch 62 didnt get animated because we hadnt met fumiki yet like we did in the manga. now, onto more recent chapters... (under a read more because this is going to get pretty long)

chise and yoris first meeting is framed in a very purposeful way. in chapter 98, elias is preoccupied with ousting all the outsiders so that he and chise can be alone, stuck on the idea that "christmas is for family only:"

and three pages later, who do we meet?

im really struck by the way chise and yori are drawn together here. personally, i dont read this as "chise is meeting a new unimportant side character," this is "the strings of fate have pulled us miraculously back together again"

waiter! waiter! can i get an order of drifting sakura petals and sparkles with this panel? am i waxing poetic here or do you see it? the way theres no background drawn here, no other characters, even in later pages when we know elias is standing right behind chise, he doesnt get included in frame so that its just the two of them:

while im at it, can we appreciate how theyre wearing the same outfit? black pants and a hip-length dark coat/sweater with oversized pockets, a collar, and six left-sided buttons. yoris dark gloves also evoke chises cursed arm here but i dont want to risk looking like a maniac any more than i already do. i mean... dude, look at them, theyre matching

speaking of matching, lets pop back to 51 for a sec

both yori and chise have canine familiars! actually, it looks like yori might have multiple - look at all those pokeballs i mean bamboo tubes in his coat. if my memory serves, we didnt know yori was japanese at this point, but everyone assumed so because of the appearance of this familiar... which was another log on the "this might be fumiki" fire

fun fact: this little dude is almost certainly a kuda-kitsune, which were said to be kept in tubes and summoned by a soothsayer, who could use it to perform curses, or tell the past and future

and the drama with which we find out his "name":

"i bet you were expecting me to say fumiki, huh. good luck im not giving you that this early you have to work for it." as far as aliases go, "ri" could be derived from "hatori," but neither of the kanji in "fumiki" can be read as "yo," so its probably just random

after yori leaves, we get another repetition of "christmas is for family," which at this point feels like yamazaki is leading us to water and dunking our head in it:

i think its awfully convenient that ruth was absent for chises exchange with yori. do you think he would have been able to smell that theyre related? or whiffed the kuda-kitsune in his coat?

right after this, too, we get this line from elias which i have been thinking about a lot:

theres a few different ways this could be read, so im not married to any one interpretation, but it could be foreshadowing "if chise decides to pursue a relationship with her estranged family, what will i do then?" as gabriella would say, "i hate to be a third wheel"

given what we have seen of yoris aloof personality, i have to imagine there will be drama if/when the reveal is made. sadly i can picture him actually pushing chise away if she tries to reestablish a relationship with him

now! that is pretty much where my thoughts end, but i do want to share questions/doubts i have:

if yori read all of simons reports to determine he was an unfit observer, there is no way he doesnt know chises full name. i wonder whether he had any reaction to it? he may assume that its just a coincidence. i briefly wondered if the hatori name was an invention by yuuki, until i remembered that the family chise stays with in the OVA also has the same name. unless yuuki was adopted by another family like seth...? dont mind me, im going pepe silvia mode over here

have i mentioned i talked about yuuki before in another theory post? take it with a grain of salt, i already got proven wrong on one front now that jasper has been introduced

will yuuki be reintroduced if fumiki is? i desperately want chise to get that closure, but this scene from ch 42 has a sense of finality to it, a sort of "you will never get to resolve things with your father or see his side of things" stank:

... actually, now that ive mentioned the kuda-kitsune, can we look at this thing again?

another word for the kuda-kitsune is "izuna," which is read in modern japanese as "weasel." could the critter whos watching yuuki here come from the same place as yoris familiars? yuuki leaves his family immediately after this - getting summoned maybe?

okay, okay, let me stop myself here before i start looking like im ranting and raving. can we talk about the mail, please, mac? ive been dying to talk about the mail with you all day, ok? "pepe silvia," this name keeps coming up over and over again. every day pepe's mail is getting sent back to me. pepe silvia! pepe silvia! i look in the mail, and this whole box is pepe silvia!

if youre a fence-sitter, what are your thoughts? do you think we just dont have enough evidence yet? inquiring minds want to know

#original #fumiki #the ancient magus bride #mahoutsukai no yome #theory

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throwing-in-the-towel · 8 days

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the ‘discourse’ (if you can even call it that, i just can’t think of a better word atm) around dally’s ‘get tough like me’ monologue is interesting to me, because, while not situated in the same beat (post johnny’s death) is it…not the basis for pretty much the entirety of grease got a hold? i feel like you get a sense of some of it in both grease got a hold, and then later in little brother.

‘you get tough like me and you don’t get hurt’ = ‘you wanna be tough? you better listen to me. i’ve seen it all, i’ve lived a life on the street’ (etc.)

‘you look out for yourself and nothin’ can touch you’ = ‘some of us are cold and a little more mean. time to be tough and quick on your feet. there ain’t no way a boy can make it out on the street unless you’re mean as a fighter and as sharp as a blade’

(that may be a reach, but i almost feel as though dally’s speaking in singularities. like, he believes that individually they should all be mean and sharp and tough and whatnot, vs the juxtaposition of pony’s sort of through-line of ‘we stick together ‘cause each other’s all we got’)

i don’t feel there’s necessarily a line for line match in little brother, but you definitely feel that same sense of self loathing you get in the beginning of that monologue.

i also feel they had to move it to make dally’s role a little more effective (not that he’s ever not been an important part in both the book in musical), but because the musical isn’t heavily skewed by pony’s POV and you do get moments like the confrontations between darry and dally, it needs to be said long before johnny’s death so you understand why darry and dally are at such odds. if that makes sense?

idk i could wax poetic about the whole opposing parental figure thing darry and dally have going on, but i personally don’t believe we’ve lost the heart of the monologue

sorry for rambling, signed the chicago tour anon 🫶

chicago tour anon i need to let you know that i absolutely love reading anything you send in!! <3

just going to share this for those who want to read and want a take on the whole book vs musical conversation surround dally we had recently (specifically with the cut book monologue)!

#the outsiders broadway #the outsiders musical #dallas winston #grease got a hold

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patchwork-crow-writes · 5 months

Text

The RalsAlmanac, Volume I

Okay, here it is! A series of essays that will attempt to definitively explain just who or what Ralsei is, referring to scenes from the game as evidence, as well as external sources where appropriate.

There will be some conjecture, as there's just so much we don't know about him, and what little we are given isn't exactly the most revealing. However, I've done my best to cleave as closely to the source material as I can, and I believe there's a strong case to be had here.

Hopefully you'll be able to see where my points come from, or at the very least you'll learn something you didn't know before. Either way, thanks for your consideration!

Volume I - Ralsei Is A Character In A Role-Playing Game.

Self-indulgent reference out of the way, lemme ask you a question.

Who is Ralsei?

It's a question that seems like it should be easy to answer. He's the Prince From The Dark, the third of the three Delta Warriors, he exists to serve the lightners, and is the most precious little cinnamon roll that ever lived. He enjoys baking and crochet, can hold a tune, is a decent interior-decorator, and holds his friends Kris and Susie in very high regard.

Thing is, that's about all you can really say about him without veering into speculation and headcanons, and they're more surface-level observations than anything else. What exactly does "Prince From The Dark" mean, for instance? Prince in what sense, exactly? Ceremonial, or with the actual power that royalty conveys? Where does he rank in comparison to, say, King or Queen, both actual rulers of actual kingdoms? The title of "prince" would suggest that he answers to them, but while they rule their own municipalities, Ralsei's title implies he rules over ALL dark worlds. You could go on asking these questions forever, but I think you see what I'm getting at.

A more productive avenue of questioning might be: What role does Ralsei play in the story of Deltarune? Perhaps more of his underlying character and motivation could be gleaned by looking at what he does for the story and the game. And this would be correct... sort of.

We tend to think of him as the squishy healer of the party, the Heart and moral centre of the Fun Gang. And he absolutely is that, but he's also quite a bit more. He plays all sorts of different roles and character archetypes in the first two chapters of the game, including but not limited to:

the old man whose purpose is to wax poetic about the ancient prophecy...

the know-it-all tutorial fairy who walks you through the basic game mechanics...

the straight-man DM trying to keep everything on the rails...

the young sheltered noble experiencing the outside world for the first time...

the demure love-interest to the main protagonist...

the Polyanna determined to see the good in everybody...

the mysterious waif who knows things he shouldn't...

...eye candy…?

...and so on and so forth.

And so what, I hear you cry. Characters in video games can have more than one personality trait, after all. And yes, this is true! But usually, the different aspects of a character's roles, how they interact with, reinforce or contradict each other, can tell us more about their inner world - what motivates them, what they actively like and dislike... in short, it grants them depth and allows us to engage with them as actual people, rather than just a series of game functions and character traits dressed up in a pretty bow.

But that's not what we see with Ralsei. In fact, far from showing us any real, deep aspect of his character, each new guise he dons and part he plays in the narrative further obfuscates him from us. We learn no new meaningful information from any of these exchanges... except for one thing, but we'll come to that in a moment.

This vexes us, because we WANT to know more about him, but all we end up getting is stock JRPG tropes dressed up in a warm, fluffy coat. There HAS to be something deeper, we reason - he's hiding things from us, so he must be a secret villain. Or his backstory is so tragic, so traumatising, that he cannot properly articulate it to us right now. Or maybe what we see really IS what we get - a simpering, airheaded fool whose only desires in life are to be cute, please his betters and do what he's told. Yet even this explanation seems... unsatisfying, especially since we KNOW he harbours some angst about himself and his sense of identity.

And speaking of which, that one thing we learn? Right at the end of Chapter 2's Acid Tunnel sequence, he utters a single sentence:

This is arguably one of the most significant lines of dialogue in the entire game up to this point. But what does it mean, exactly? I believe most people assume it means he doesn't have a clear sense of who he is outside of his ordained purpose, which is certainly valid, and definitely something I believed for a long time. And yet, this explanation does not deepen our understanding of his character in any meaningful way; looking back over all his interactions with the cast, it does not allow us to glean any further information about him.

And you can say that's because he himself doesn't know what he's like... but again, this doesn't actually change anything, and we just end up with a circular logic trap. We don't know anything because he doesn't tell us anything, and he doesn't tell us anything because he doesn't know anything, so how can we be expected to know anything, except that no-one seems to know anything about him… which is very frustrating to us Ralsei scholars, and gets us no closer to truly understanding him.

But look at what he says again. Really look at it. It’s a very strange way of saying “I don’t really know who I am”, isn’t it? After all, if that’s what he means, then why doesn’t he just say that? I’m certain you’ve realised by now, but it’s because that’s NOT what he’s saying at all. He literally has no clue what being “himself” is supposed to be, because he wasn’t even created with a sense of “Ralsei-ness” in the first place. Little wonder, then, that we can’t discern anything about his internal world, when there is nothing there to be discerned.

But before I elaborate any further, I want to talk about a couple of scenes in Deltarune that are just... puzzling. This is relevant, I promise. The first is during the dialogue with Rouxls Kaard before the rematch with K.Round. Ralsei says something interesting in the lead-up to the fight:

Note Susie’s baffled reaction to this. Then not long afterwards, he continues with:

Throwaway joke, right? We laugh because Susie's right - K. Round and its crown do look exactly the same to us, and so Ralsei's dramatic utterances are deflated and lose their impact. We laugh, beat the boss with Susie's help and forget all about it. But here's the thing - if K.Round looks the same to us, and it looks the same to Susie, and presumably by extension the rest of the in-game characters... when why exactly does Ralsei take the time to insist otherwise?

Is he... lying? Our most precious little boy, guilty of perjury? Say it ain't so! :O

The second scene is in chapter 2 - Queen has challenged us to a game of Punch-Out on her absurdly tall arcade machine, and we can talk to the characters before trying to interact with it. Talk to Ralsei, and if you answer "Gaming is my life" to his prompt, he says this:

Most people don't even come across this in their playthrough, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's new to you reading this. But again, note this strange discrepancy between what Ralsei reports is happening and what Susie says is actually happening. It becomes apparent to most people that Kris can affect the tone of their voice when saying what we tell them to, which affects how the response is taken by other characters and gives us a subtle clue about how they actually feel about certain characters or situations.

Are we to assume, then, that Ralsei isn't actually listening to how Kris says things, but only what they're saying? And if that's correct, then... what does that say about him?

Taken at face-value, within the context of the game, neither of these events really make much sense. It just looks like Ralsei is being overly-dramatic, or lying, or perhaps even insensitive to what their friend is trying to tell him, which doesn't quite track with his per-established shallow traits of kind, all-loving and moralistic. It's perplexing and seemingly out-of-character for him. So it might help to consider, in each of these scenarios, who exactly Ralsei is talking to.

Is it Kris and/or Susie? This would make the most sense, but it's actually not that likely, considering the aforementioned discrepencies between his descriptions and Susie's observations. So is it himself? Again, if he can see things the same as everyone else in-game, that wouldn't make much sense, because then he's just saying stuff that... isn't true? Or in the latter example's case, just completely ignoring what Kris is saying, which doesn't seem to entirely gel with what we know about him.

So, who does that leave? Well, the only other person - or should I say entity - who is present for both of those scenes is... us. The player of Deltarune. And that might seem even stranger than the previous options, until you realise what it is he's actually doing - providing flavour text, additional exposition informing us of details that we wouldn't - or shouldn't - be able to make out on a pixelated display with no voice-acting, attempting to give us a richer sense of these events in order to increase our sense of immersion in the game and world of Deltarune. In effect, he's playing the part of a character in a role playing game, doling out “flavour text” that contradicts another character’s experience of the same scenes, and he's doing it entirely for OUR benefit. Not Kris’s, not Susie's – ours.

He tells us that K.Round's crown is different, and that it is in pain from its forced control, to try and increase the stakes of the fight, and to give us a motivation that's not "here's the exact same boss again lul". He responds to Kris's words the way he does, not because he doesn't understand the nuances of their tone, but to try and amp us up for the upcoming challenge, and to validate our choice when we select the dialogue option "Gaming is my life". Because we cannot hear Kris's tone of voice - and Ralsei knows that. To him, Kris's tone literally doesn't matter, because he doesn't believe it matters to us in that exact moment.

And here’s the thing: if not for Susie’s asides immediately contradicting him, we’d likely take what he says here as what’s actually going on. To Ralsei, the reality he and his friends experience is not important – it’s the image of that reality that he’s trying to convey to the player. It’s like he knows he’s part of a game, meant just for us to experience and enjoy, as opposed to a real world filled with real people having real experiences.

And the reason I brought this up is to illustrate what I believe Ralsei to actually be - namely, that he a walking, talking, singing and dancing amalgam of stock JRPG characters and tropes that's trying very hard to present as an actual person, to the point of knowing absolutely nothing about who he even is outside of that. Put in even blunter terms, he's literally a fluffy goat-shaped vehicle to set the player on their journey through the game, to keep them playing and to keep them invested. People looking for deeper aspects of his character come up short and are disappointed because they're looking for something that does not currently exist.

And just so that I'm clear, I do not mean that Ralsei is "acting", or that he's "wearing a mask", because that would imply that there was actually something underneath his "facade" to begin with. No, this is who the Prince of the Dark is - a very convincing fascimile of a person, following his directive to ensure that the story of Deltarune is resolved, and that the game of Deltarune is played to completion. And once you realise that, a lot of things that Ralsei says and does that seemed strange before suddenly make a lot more sense.

As for the why... well, that'll have to wait for another time. But hopefully you can begin to see how my future essays in this series all tie in to this one, because I think you can only really understand those with the framework that this text provides. I hope that my reasoning made sense and wasn't too difficult to follow, but I'll be happy to provide additional information, clarification, or even just discussion on any aspect of this essay... even if we just wind up (respectfully) agreeing to disagree. Would love to hear what people thought about this!

Thanks for reading!

#Writing #essay #analysis #theory #Deltarune #Ralsei #character study #The RalsAlmanac #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune chapter 2 #essay collection

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