#normally i would force it to happen again. do something to make it stronger. but im trying to go without it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qierxing · 10 months ago

Text

Farewell to Thee?

A/N: (checks last post time stamp) Oopsie. (drops this in front of yall like a bag of groceries and fades into the distance)

Yan! Twst Isekai AU

CW/TW: the Mouse is Real™, graphic descriptions of bodily fluids/injuries, assault and kidnapping Pt. 3 Oh Woe is Me... | Pt. 4

◇ Continue

[Loading…]

“..llo?"

"Hello?"

"Hellooo?”

Out of the wispy fog comes a familiar voice. It echoes on and on, fading into a whisper. The tenure worms into your brain as you struggle back into consciousness. And as your eyes open and focus, your brain finally recognizes who is calling out.

“...Mickey?” You respond quietly in disbelief. “Mickey!”

“[First]!” The reunion, however unexpected, is still relieving. You never thought you would be so happy to see the cartoony mouse again. But…

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, huh?” He chirps, walking up to your side. “I’ve been trying all sorts of things to get here, even trying to change my pajamas before sleeping too, heh…”

“So…this is a dream?” You ask hesitantly. Mickey smiles up at you, unaware of your inner turmoil.

“Must be! This is quite unexpected, I usually only see your head and shoulders, not your whole body.”

That makes sense, in a way. Only white nothingness surrounds you. Although you two are striding forward in a sense of strolling, you can’t make heads or tails on whether you’re actually walking somewhere.

“Normally I’d ask to take your picture but I don’t have my special camera.” You wryly smile in response. Did you succeed with your plan? Interactions with Mickey was usually out of the player’s hands…did you force a connection when you caused a game over?

“That’s a right shame. I was so looking forward to it since you mentioned it last visit.” Mickey sighs with a playful pout. It then changes to something more somber as he gazes up at you.

“[First], I’m glad to have met you again, but be careful.” You stop in your tracks at the warning.

“I sensed some dark aura around you when we first met. It’s gotten even stronger this time.” Mickey explains, worried eyes examining you. “Please be careful.”

“Wh-what do you mean…?” Your mouth runs dry. Something prickles in the back of your head, and to your panic, the vision of Mickey starts fading away, images blurring.

“M…time….up….watch…” his last words hover in the air as you frantically reach out to him.

“M-Mickey?!” You fumble around, trying to reach out to him, but come up with air.

“Damn it!” You scream, impatient rage blinding your sight.

Just when you’re so close to getting an answer out of this damn game! You just wanted to go home! Was that such a sin?

The prickling in your head grows stronger and you grow lightheaded, collapsing in on yourself. You look up to see a bright glowing menu.

[True Ending has not been unlocked]

>⬛⬛⬛⬛ Key has not been obtained.

>Continue?

–

[Loading…]

Your cheeks feel sticky.

It feels so gross. The smell of iron and rust floods your nose and makes your eyes fly open. Your fingernails scrape the substance as you push yourself off the cold floor. When you hold it up to your bleary eyes, you can see blood and dirt flaking under your nails. Your entire front is also soaked in blood and saliva. The disgusting sight makes you cringe.

The ground underneath your body shakes. You regard the pool of blood, tears, and snot underneath you with a gaze not fully aware. You’re… in Twisted Wonderland?

Screaming? There’s people yelling somewhere, and it’s making your head hurt. You groan, raising your dirtied hand to steady your forehead.

What happened…?

"Easy, Trickster." A warm voice envelopes your ear. Suddenly, the scent of mint and petrichor overtakes your senses. Verdant green eyes peer down at you with relief.

“R…Rook?” The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like you. Someone else speaking in your body, like a ventriloquist. “H-How…?”

“[First]!” Grim flings himself into your face, adding to the pool of snot and mucus. It’s okay though. You hug him tightly, curling in on yourself, trying to absorb the warmth Grim gives.

The others come and swarm you; trying to check in on you, but you don’t respond to their numerous worried inquiries, drained of all your energy. Something catches your ear though.

“Oh, we were so worried! When Neige told us you got accidentally poisoned, we couldn’t take you to the infirmary right away–thank Seven Rook was there!” Kalim clasps your hands tenderly, not minding the gross slew of fluids getting on his hands.

Poisoned? How was I poisoned…?

A knife sharp pain slices through your brain when you try to recall what happened. You were with Neige…and then? Everything after that was all coming out as static noise.

“Prefect.”

You know who it is without looking. What a sight. How could Vil Schoenheit look this disheveled? Blonde greasy hair that is out of place, skin hollowed and pale with scratches, and bloodshot lavender eyes. He looks worse than you on death’s door.

"Vil…?" You gaze at him with empty confusion, unsure of why your heart drops at the sight of him. "Did…did something happen?"

Vil's eyes narrow but then close in resignation. Epel takes over, eyes wide in earnest. "Vil had an overblot, so we had to wrangle him back to normal."

Overblot…right…that's what supposed to happen, right?

Why…was that supposed to happen?

"Forgive me, Trickster. If only I had reached there faster with Monsieur Al-Asim…" Rook hums, surprisingly sincere. "Roi du Poison's madness and obsession…even when he had overblotted…how wonderfully beautiful it all was. The ink swirling around him, his stature…"

You shiver as his gaze rakes into yours.

"But, mon amour, you must not do that again, oui?" He leans in, lips ghosting over your ear and your blood freezes. What does he…?

"What a fine mess this is. What are we going to do now?" Ace drawls, eyes scanning behind him. Your eyes follow where he's looking and wince at the now destroyed colosseum. Debris and rocks flung everywhere, banners ripped to shreds, and electronics fried beyond repair.

For some reason, you feel calm despite the scene before you. As if…

"Well, well, if this isn't a sight."

Malleus.

Nothing registers until his gaze falls on you, and you swear his eyes glow for a fraction of a second.

"What have we here?" The question echoes and everyone looks nervously around at each other. “I arrive early to find not a single person and a stage laid to waste.”

You can only muster a sheepish grin in response. That's right. Malleus could fix this all up in a flash, no problem.

“Hornton, thank goodness you’re here!” Dried blood cracks on the edges of your smiling lips. “We could really use some help-”

“HORNTON?” You wince at the cacophonous pitch of everyone yelling. Rook is tactful enough to shield your ears but it only did so much to keep your eardrums from ringing. While Grim realizes who Hornton is, everyone else is flustered, attempting to explain the weight of his identity to the two of you.

You don’t need it though. His magic is enough of a demonstration as he winds back time and repairs the stage in moments. With that, the NRC group’s spirit and morale is renewed and once again, they’re raring to prove themselves to RSA.

The only thing that didn’t change is you.

Malleus gingerly carries you in his arms while Grim worriedly looks up at you. While they were reluctant to continue without you, even they were not foolish enough to let you go without urgent medical treatment.

You managed to stay conscious long enough to hear Malleus talking with the school medics and Grim muttering about stones before the dull ache in your throat and stomach forced you into an uneasy slumber.

–

The vestiges of a strange dream about mice and keys linger in your mind as you blink away the sleep in your eyes.

Evening has fallen, the only light coming from the dim lanterns the office has set up for patients. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can make out silhouettes of curtains and several items on the table near you.

Snacks from Ace and Deuce, herbal medicine from Vil, and colorful flowers by Kalim (you’re sure Jamil was the reason why it was not mountains of flower bouquets). The gestures are enough to make you weakly smile before it drops into a frown.

You turn to scan the room, and find no signs of life.

Did Grim leave?

An uneasiness begins to settle in your chest and you try to quash it. Maybe he just went to use the bathroom. Or if the staff made him leave, maybe he returned to Ramshackle. Anxiety begins to creep through your mind as the seconds tick by on the clock above the doorway.

Screw it.

You slip off the duvet covers and although the feeling of cold tiles on your bare feet is almost enough to make you give up, you push through and leave the room in the direction of Ramshackle.

Soon, the familiar sight of the Seven’s statues come into the horizon and cobblestones turn into granite tiles underneath your feet. Something makes you pause, however. Like a feeling of deja vu, you wonder why you feel like you’ve been in this situation before.

A growl shakes through the underbrush and you whirl to see the devil tips of a tail thrashing through leaves. Your heart jumps to your throat.

Grim!

The next thing you see is glowing blue eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth and dripping black saliva. You stumble back partially in disgust at the sight and partially from fear. What happened to your friend?!

“Grrr…mine…you can’t…” His words are hardly decipherable, making you furrow your eyebrows in concern.

“Grim!”

He’s already descended into a rabid, feral monster. Your calls only anger him, and his eyes thin into needle thin slits. He bares his teeth again and you steel yourself.

Letting out a guttural roar, he pounces and you narrowly dodge and avoid getting shredded by jagged claws.

You will not lose your friend here. You can’t. Not when–

A fleeting vision flashed in your mind: pitch black ink surrounding your feet, before finally flowing away and hardening into a condensed mass. Your head immediately is wracked in red hot spasms, causing you to keel over in pain. What is…

Unfortunately, this leaves you open to Grim’s next strike, and his attack throws both of you off balance. The impact sends you into the grass and it’s only when your back hits a tree trunk that you shriek out loud. Your fragile medical gown is torn through by his claws, leaving bloody gashes upon your midsection.

The excruciating pain is enough for feverish tears to run down your cheeks and your vision to start blurring as Grim growls again, no doubt readying to finish what he started.

“G-Grim…”

Your vision darkens, and your world goes silent.

–

A heart wrenching scream rouses you awake.

“[FIRST]!!”

The sound of whistling wind blows in your ears and instinctively you shiver. As your eyes blearily crack open, a gray figure comes into focus.

Grim is hunched over you, shaking your body with tears in his eyes. The both of you seem to be…flying? What?

“Subject F and Y secured. Waiting for other units’ reports.” A cold robotic voice drones above you. You force your head up and see a tall robot donning armor and wielding a formidable looking oar like weapon. As your eyes adjusted against the strong breeze, you realized you and Grim were trapped in a steel cage.

In the distance, your ears faintly pick up explosions and deep rumbling.

“[FIRST]?!”

Both you and Grim turn to see Ace and Deuce gaping up at you from the forest floor below. You open your mouth, but your voice doesn’t come out.

“All targets have been secured. All units fall back and return.”

“No!” Grim yowls. “My henchman, they’re hurt! Someone, help–!!”

But his screeching goes unheeded by your stoney captors. And although you swear you hear familiar voices calling back, the robots are undeterred and whisk you both away easily.

The last thing you see is the shattered ruins of a barrier and a school left in burned pieces.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #my works

435 notes · View notes

zayne-li · 9 months ago

Text

Cross posted on AO3, may be edited in the future, it was written very shortly after the game actually came out.

Explicit, MDNI.

Zayne gets injured, MC saves him, and Zayne has very normal feelings about it.

Feelings like: femdom, etc.

"Zayne! Zayne! Can you hear me? Come on, get up, you have to get up, we need to go now!"

The world is fuzzy at the edges, and there's a tinny sort of ringing in his ears, but he hears his hunters voice. She's upset. Why?

Arms stronger than they should be tug at the lapels of his white doctors coat, dragging him up off the concrete, and he blinks hard several times. His head is swimming.

Zayne groans, deep and low as his awareness slowly returns, able to blearily look around and recall that right, yes, we were at my favorite sweets shop... And then...

"I know it hurts, Zayne, but I really, really need you to get up right now." That's her voice again, and then he can see her. Right in front of him, holding him halfway off the ground. There's blood smeared across her lips, cheek, and eye, and her hair is ashy with dust, no hint of the real color underneath it all.

It occurs to him that it's concerning he can't recall what exactly has happened. Was it Wanderers? Some sort of accident? A weak cough escapes him as his shoes scrape across the loose pebbles on the road.

Everything hurts. Like one giant bruise all over his body. But he is slowly regaining his senses. He does have at least that.

All around them is destruction: rubble and dust and shouts for loved ones piercing through the fog. The air smells and tastes metallic as his hunter helps him up onto shaky feet, hoisting one of his arms over her shoulder and wrapping the other around his middle.

"Can you walk? We need to get you to Akso now."

Her pupils are blown, and eyes wild. It's a look he hasn't seen on her before. Despite the pain and danger they are in, there is something about her in this very moment(maybe the blood, the adrenaline, this demeanor he's never seen before) that makes his gut clench.

Ought to dissect that later, he thinks. Then again, perhaps not.

"Akso?" His voice is rough, throat sticky with dust.

"Yes, you broke at least two of your ribs in that explosion, you need medical care, do you understand?"

His eyes drop down to hers, and he realizes just how much they are touching in this moment. All the way from their feet to her head, becoming a long line of heat down the right side of his body.

What timing, Doctor Li.

"I understand." He confirms to her, and plants his gaze firmly ahead of them, forcing his attention onto the task at hand rather than the way that look in her eyes makes him feel.

Weeks later he is still recalling that day, though who can blame him, confined to bed rest as he is? Three broken ribs and a full month of leave from the hospital, it's difficult to find ways to entertain himself.

Zayne closes his eyes and he sees her covered in sweat, that single minded determination carving deep lines into her face. If she'd had to, she would have dragged his limp body to the doors of the hospital. It was a look that told him, "I'm not losing you too. Not today." It was that look that had given him the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It aroused him deep in his gut, somewhere he hadn't even known existed.

It was disturbing, in more ways than one.

He'd begun to have dreams.

Dreams of her coming home to his apartment, the door closing with more force than necessary, her dirty boots crossing through the kitchen with purpose. And when she found that purpose, she would have that same look on her face. In some of the dreams she'd still have blood on her face, and she'd lick the droplets away, just as she did while she labored to save his life that day.

She would grab him by the knot of his tie, stifling his surprise with a bruising kiss, plundering his mouth like a woman starved, using her unexpected strength to push him back against the wall, to cover him with her smaller frame. He would moan into her throat and her lips would curve into a smile against his.

One night, he wakes around four in the morning after dreaming of his hunters battle lust and he finds himself in an uncomfortable, sticky mess.

Zayne knows he loves her. He has since he was a boy, that has never changed, but through the years, his crush has waxed and waned, but remained fundamentally childlike. It hasn't been until they reconnected this past year that he'd even begun to let his thoughts drift to more unsavory places. And now... Well he determines that this new... Discovery of his remain well and firmly hidden.

Her presence in his life is too precious to waste with his depraved imagination.

After all, while he's been bored and cooped up in his apartment, with strict instructions from every person in his life to "Sit and rest, for once!" She has been visiting him almost daily. Usually not for long, as her own work keeps her extraordinarily busy(he supposes he's never noticed just how hard and much she works before, because he himself is often entrenched in his own), but always with an easy smile and some sort of treat for him. Chocolate, or cookies, one afternoon a little fruit tart from a vendor she passed on her way to see him.

Most of the time, it is no challenge for him to recognize that her friendship is far, far too valuable to risk losing.

Today, she knocks on his door, and when he opens it, he almost forgets.

She's a mess.

There's a fairly large, but shallow cut across most of her face, from her cheek down to her chin, her hair is pulled up haphazardly, the leather glove she normally wears is missing, and her clothes, though neat, have small tears across one of her knees, and her shoulder.

Zayne swallows before he greets her.

"Difficult day?"

She exhales a chuckle. "Just a long one, sorry. I was going to go home to clean up, but by then it would have been pretty late, and I was already nearby when I finished, so I thought I'd just uh... Drop in."

She's sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, and Zayne forces himself to look away, making eye contact with the corner of the wall instead. There's a chip in the paint.

"Really, you needn't trouble yourself on my behalf, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You require rest as well as I."

What would it feel like, right now, to have her press up against him? Warm. Solid, he thinks. Would she grab him by his jaw? Turn his face this way and that?

He imagines how she would taste. Salty and metallic, he thinks, especially now. His hunter, shoving him onto his back in his bed, she would be impatient, barely taking the time to undo their pants before sheathing herself on his cock, using her palms on his chest for leverage to fuck herself as she pleased.

"Yeah, well then we might as well rest together, huh?"

She pulls him from his depraved thoughts.

Zayne realizes that the heat between his legs, if not controlled soon, will become a much larger problem(no pun intended).

"You have quite the knack for turning phrases, you know." His tone stays even, and he turns away, inviting her inside without another word, his excuse being the television in his living room that needs muting.

"And you never have this much time off. It's kinda fun, really."

He hears the click of the door shutting, and the turn of the lock.

"I brought you something, too."

Thud on the kitchen counter. Whatever it is, it sounds hefty. While he pretends to look for his remote, he adjusts himself in his pants, burning with shame for this predicament.

"What is it this time?"

"Brownies! Salted caramel flavored. They're my favorite."

She appears quite suddenly in the corner of his vision, and he jumps, feeling his face grow hot.

"Thoughtful as always." He smiles, and hits the mute button on another story of wanderer attacks.

His hunter frowns, leaning her body around to get a good look at him.

"Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Her tone leaves no room for arguments, and Zayne's eyes go a bit wide just for a moment.

"What makes you think anything is wrong? Other than my broken ribs?" He doesn't realize it, but he imitates her in the way he tilts his head. The mirth in her eyes makes his chest ache.

"You're blushing, Doctor Zayne." Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth with her smile.

"Perhaps I'm coming down with a fever." He counters.

She squints, but moves away, rolling not just her eyes, but her whole head. "Oooh-kay. Then perhaps I should leave, huh? Keep you from spreading your virus all over Linkon?"

His mouth opens, but he has no immediate response.

"Uh-huh." She oozes with smugness.

God he wants her. Whether in his dreams, or right now, either will do. He's wanted her for so long. And now she's so close. Zayne feels his entire chest go tight with longing. He wants everything with her. For her.

He wants her to be with him always. If he could put a tiny little hunter in his pocket and keep her there he would, just so he could pull her out when he likes to soothe the ache in his soul that she both creates and fills in equal measure.

He wants her just like this, messy and stinking of rain and sweat and blood, he wants her sweetness, her humor, her easy charisma.

And God he wants her to claim him. He wants the battle lust, her fingernails deep in his scalp, the stinging on his back. He wants her to take whatever she likes from him, his body, his soul, his everything.

"I wasn't blushing. You are mistaken." Somehow he keeps his voice even and calm, though inside he fights to keep from pouncing on her.

Down, boy.

Recognition flashes across her face.

And then a flurry of emotions he has trouble naming. Confusion, shock, and something else he can't define, but it reminds him of the day they were in that explosion, and she became someone he didn't know.

His hunter steps forward, further into his space, and on instinct, Zayne steps back, his swallow loud in the quiet apartment.

She must see something on his face. Fear, he thinks. And her expression of bewilderment changes as her gaze flickers rapidly across his features, first his eyes, his mouth, the bob in his throat, the fist clenched at his side, and then back to his mouth.

Her movements are slow as she takes another step forward, as if she's afraid to spook him, like one would a wild animal. She grabs the front of his shirt, and he swallows back a whine.

His hunter sees this too.

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"You frighten me sometimes."

Do I, Doctor Zayne?" Her eyes are dark, and she pulls him down to her, tilting her head just so, and holds him a hairsbreadth away from her lips.

He can taste her breath. It makes his knees weak. God, if you are there, don't wake me from this dream.

#lads zayne #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you

188 notes · View notes

mushies-stories · 1 year ago

Text

involuntary experiment

Jonathan Crane X F!Reader

Summary: Scarecrow uses a new toxin on himself and the reader, a hero who decided to seek him out alone this time in hope of bringing him down. this is literrlly porn and some plot aha

Wanrings: SMUT 18+, no use of Y/N, dubcon, Drugged, Dom/sub dynamic if you squint, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, pnv, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral(Mreceiving), fingering(Freceiving) pet names, over stimulation, No use of Y/N, over all soft Crane? Squirting, mild science experimentation, claiming? Kinda… I think that's it XD

word count: 4564

You had been after Scarecrow for a while now but his dumb little henchmen always seem to buy him just enough time to pull some kind of toxin out, forcing you to retreat or suffer in fear. So you figured this time you would catch him off guard, you knew who he really was and his face wasn't a secret unlike yours.

Follow him after his deal with some other low life, remember that low life, then follow him back to whatever hole he thrived in. easy.

It really was easy. You followed him down to the basement of some abandoned building on the out-skirts of gotham. You waited silently as he unlocked the rusty metal door and slid it open then made your move. In an instant you were kicking him into the room that turned out to be a basic lab. You thought the kick would have knocked him on his ass, instead he stumbled a little and dropped his briefcase but managed to collect himself rather quickly. Quick enough that when you went to attack again he was swinging his body around and stopping your arm from hurling your fist into his jaw.

You were stunned for a moment, surprised that he was even able to block you. His henchmen normally did the heavy lifting. His free hand was reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling something out. Shoving him you freed your arm and backed up. You stayed alert just in case but you knew he wouldn't hit himself with his own toxin. His mask was in the briefcase across the room.

You eyes him as he pulled the canister out, he stared back with a tight smirk. “Oh, you decided to give me a house visit? How special.” He snorted. The liquid in the canister wasn't normal, this one was a pale pink.

“Well I figured it was time to put an end to your madness, Dr. Johnathan Cran.” you said and shrugged.

His smirk grew. “That so? Growing tired of chasing me then?” He took a step closer and straightened up in defense. “You know, I was waiting for an opportunity to try this new toxin out.” he said, shaking the canister with another step and taking his glasses off in the process, placing them in his jacket pocket.

You stepped back, wanting to keep space between you. “That so? How are you gonna do that without your mask?” you said, glancing at the case that sat on the ground between you both. “Because I can bet I'll get to you before you make it to that mask.” you stated, ready for him to make a move.

A low chuckle left the man. His piercing eyes staring into you with no regard to your threat. “See, the thing is.” he began, taking another step. “I don't want the mask this time. I've seen this on people alone, how they suffer alone in their cells at arkham. I want to see what happens when two people are under the influence together.” he said, undoing the cap and tossing the smoking can between you.

Smoke filled the room immediately and during the coughing fit the smoke caused, you watched him. He was clearly affected by the smoke, coughing along with you but stayed perfectly skill in place. You weren't sure why he wasn't making a move. “What is this?” you choked out.

You both slowly composed yourself as the smoke settled and fresh air became available. “It’s an aphrodisiac, laced with a little truth serum.” he said, a grin growing on his face as your eyes winded at his words. “The more sexual desire creeps in, the stronger the effect.” Jonathan said factually.

You shook your head in disbelief. “That's insane.” you said quietly.

He stood straight, cocky. “Perhaps. But tell me this, have you ever thought about how id fuck you? Late at night have you ever thought about how well my cock would stuff your pussy?” His words were sudden, lewd and they had an instant reaction on your body.

You shook the feeling of heat on your face away. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckles and steps closer, leaving only a couple feet of space left. “Does your pussy ache at the thought of me fucking you?” he stepped closer when you didnt flinch back and then closed the gap when you only continued to stare at him in disbelief. The toxin was making you more compliant, more willing to let him be closer to you. A hand came to cup your cheek, the skin there felt like it was on fire from the contact. “Tell me, how do you feel?” his head tilted with an almost knowing grin as he looked down at you.

You blinked slowly, your brain starting to fog up. You wanted to fight back, say something to wipe the smirk off his face but those thoughts swirled with the ones just like he was saying. You had the occasional thought about him, knowing what he looks like helps. It was a few times and everytime you felt disgusted by it, he was a deranged madman who drugged people. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to hide as you felt your body tip more into desire for the criminal in front of you.

“Well? Speak up. Is your pussy getting wet for me right now? Feeling hotter and needier, need me to fuck you all better?” he asked softly, almost caring while his thumb stroked your cheek.

A small whimper escaped past your lips. Every word he spoke awoken a new spark in your brain that killed off all logic and left only a scorching burn of desire between your legs. You nodded slowly. “Y-yes.” you whispered, eyes barely keeping focused on his own that watched you with eyes that must look similar to your own, blown out and full of growing lust.

“Good girl.” He cooed. Stepping away he dropped his hand from your face and nodded once. “Undress, and don't forget to take the mask off.” He ordered.

You hesitated a moment, you started with your shoes but your hands froze before they could move to your shirt. feeling embarrassed now at the order as your brain attempts to wrap itself around what's happening. But he was watching you so intently and the gleam in his eyes was enough to push your brain to move your hands to the button and zipper of your pants and undo them. You slowly slid them down along with your belt and tools with shaky hands and kicked them aside. Then you went for the shirt and tossed them in the forming pile next to you. “Dr. Crane… my head feels…” you tried to express how you felt as your body and mind gave further in, the hesitation leaving you as you exposed yourself to him, now taking your bra off and sliding your panties down and subconsciously rubbing your thighs together.

He smirks at how you now called him by his title “Oh sweet girl, I know.” his hand came back to cradle your cheek, this time thumbing the hem of your mask. “Why don't you take this off as well, clear your head up a bit.” His smile could have been mistaken for sincere. He slid the mask over your head and his smile grew when he saw your full face. “Well, I've been missing out huh?”

Before you could even register just how exposed you were, his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn't harsh but it wasn't gentle, it was needy and hungry. His hands found your hips and pulled you flush against him. You clutched the front of his suit jacket as his lips worked against your own and you could feel just how hard he was with his bulge tightly pressed between your bodies. You couldn't help the small gasp you let out that became an invitation for Jonathan's skilled tongue to work its way into your mouth to further the pleasure. Even a kiss was making your sex pulse. You peered over at the canister at your feet but before those thoughts of the toxic’s involvement could form in your head you were swept away by Jonathan biting your lower lip. All desire to fight was lost and replaced by the need for Johnathan to fuck you untill your pussy was ruined.

When you pulled away with shaky breaths Johnathan didn’t look as composed as he had before. It looked like the aphrodisiac was finally taking its full effect on him as well. He brought both hands up to cup your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. “I want to feel these lips, pretty girl, can you do that?” he asked. You nodded and he let you sink down to your knees. You wasted no time undoing his belt and pants, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free before you. You couldn't help but rub your thighs together at the sight. You took him in your hands and pumped a few times, causing the man above you to let out a few shaky breaths. Pre cum adorned his cock head and was slowly dripping down his length. “Like it sweet girl?” he asked, looking down at your blown out eyes.

You nodded and leaned in to lick a fat strip along his cock before slipping your lips around the leaky tip and sucking it like a lollipop. I deep groan rumbled through Johnathan. “Been wanting to taste your cock.” you confessed breathlessly before sliding down his cock and hollowing your cheeks around him, immediately starting a slow pop of your head.

Jonathan brought a hand to tangle in your hair, making sure it stays out of his view as you sucked him off. “Fuck baby.” he groaned “iv thought about your mouth on my cock so many times.” you moaned softly around his cock, continuing to suck him, the need to taste him and make him cum driving you to bob your head faster. “Just like that sweet girl, oh fuck just like that.” he leaned his head back, hand lax in your hair as you worked him.

One hand fisted pumping his shaft while the other went to gently grope his balls. You moaned around his cock at the heavy set and squeezed them. Jonathan groaned and gripped your hair. He pushed you down further until you were gagging with the tip of his cock hitting your throat. You struggled around his massive girth and you had to bring both hands up to hold into his pants to keep steady. “Fuck, baby..” he grit out between breathy groans, his seed shooting into the back of your throat. “So good baby, make sure to take all of it.” you struggled to maintain focus while he rutted himself into your mouth. “Fuck this aphrodisiac makes everything so sensitive.” he huffed.

You swallowed and began coughing and gasping for air as soon as he pulled out and released his hold on you to rake through his own hair. Regaining a little brain function you noticed his dick was still hard and still leaking precum. Then you felt the tingling in your core increase and you could feel just how wet you had gotten with hardly any touching. “Dr. Cane… will you fuck me now?” you asked, looking up at him with doe eyes.

His hair was now disheveled and red tinted his cheeks. He brought you up with a hand on your chin while the other traveled to your hips, rubbing circles on the hot flesh with his thumb. “But I wanted to taste your dripping cunt and taste your cum sweet thing.” He said, his eyes showing how much he really was affected by his own desires right now. Letting go of your hip, his hand traveled to run a slender finger through your folds.

You gasped as the sudden stimulation. His fingers continued to work through your folds and soon started teasing your entrance. “Bu-but I want to feel you inside.” you whined out as his fingers pushed into your tight pussy.

He pumped into you a few times before pushing his palm down against your clit, adding to the stimulation and causing your pussy to clench around his digits. “If I can't now then you'll just have to let me after I’ve cleaned you up and the toxin wears off because if i fuck you now im filling you with my cum over and over until I have nothing left to give you.” he voice was low, filled with meaning and truth.

With the mix of his hand fucking your pussy relentless and his dirty words, you were reeling, hanging onto him as your legs began to shake. You tried to nod between soft moans while trying to keep your eyes open, the pleasure starting to feel too good as heat pooled in your stomach.

“Tell me sweet girl, want me to fuck you full of my cum, want to wake up still stuffed and leaking all over?” he said, digging his palm into your cunt. “Use your words, let me hear you.” he said, moving closer to your face as you quickly came undone in his hand.

You nodded faster and let out a shaky breathless moan as his motions of pounding his fingers and grinding his palm into your sex intensified. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you tried to maintain focus on his blown out pupils. “Yes, yes please. Just fu-fuck me Dr. Crane!” you squealed out as your orgasm hit you.

His hand wrapped itself into your hair, bringing you to rest your head against his chest. He let you grind into his hand while you settled from your high.

He listened to your moans dye into soft whimpers as your hips stilled with his fingers still buried in your cunt. “So good baby, you sounded so good for me.” He praised, finally pulling his hand away from your leaky hole. You flinched when he brought his index and middle fingers to your lips. “Open up and taste yourself.” he encouraged. You parted your lips and let him press his slick fingers against your tongue.

You moaned around his fingers as you sucked your own release off of them. Then you looked up at the mad scientist with needy eyes. “Now? Please Dr. Crane? Will you fuck me now?” you asked though you were already pulling his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. Your brain could only focus on him, your need for him to stuff your pussy.

His eyes softened and he allowed you to tug the shirt off. You began to kiss and bite his exposed flesh along his collarbone and jaw. “Fuck, alright baby. C’mer.” he grunted, picking you up by the thighs and within a few long strides he was laying between your legs on the couch that sat along the back wall. “Gonna be a good girl and take my fat cock?” he asked, rubbing his cock along your folds.

You gasped as he smeared your slick on his cock. “M’ready! Please put it in~” you begged and wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer. “Need you so bad, please.”

His cock twitched against your heat. “Fuck, so needy for me.” he smirked and poked your tight hole with the tip of his cock. “Dripping wet and begging for my dick, what a dirty girl.” He teased and slowly sank into you. His hands held your hips in place as he bottomed out and you shook gently under him, legs squeezing his hips. You let out a loud and needy whine as he stretched your pussy open. He stilled inside and came to lean over you, arm next to your head caging you in. “don't worry, I'll take good care of you.” he cooed, rolling his hips into you and smirking at the face of Ah it caused you to make.

You hadnt had sex that felt this good before, his dick felt like it was made for your pussy. When he started a moderate pace to allow you to adjust a moment you could feel the slight curve of his cock. The veins on his cock dragging along your inner walls had you practically mewling under him with how good you felt.

He chuckled and started a faster pace, making sure to bottom out with every thrust. Your pussy was sucking him in and squeezing him just right he could tell he was already close again. His thrust picked up so he pounding into you with precision and where it felt best and you were a moaning mess on his cock. Your hands came to hold his shoulders as he fucked into you. With your head pressed back into the couch cushions you lost yourself in his movements, so good you couldn’t tell that you were building to another orgasm until it was right there and the only warning you gave was a desperate moan and jumbled words.

Johnathan groaned and leaned his head between your shoulder and head, his cock twitched before his hot load filled your gummy walls. “So tight baby, your pussy’s so good baby.” he praised as his hips rocked into you, making sure to fuck his cum deep and keep it there. He leaned up to look at you, a soft smile played at his lips. “Like my cum filling you up?” he asked, stroking some hair away from your face.

You smiled at him. “Feel so good. m’ warm and full.” you admitted. Your legs tugged him closer, not wanting him to pull out, you still felt so needy, you needed more. “Can I have more Dr. Crane?” you asked sweetly.

His smile turned darker, more mischievous. “Oh baby, do you need me to fuck you tell your little pussy is dripping full of my cum?” He rolled his hips again teasingly. You nodded, breath caught in your through with how deep he was, and again his dick was still totally hard. “You were just begging me so well sweet girl, even calling me Dr.Crane like a good girl. You can do that again right?” he smiled and waited as he continued to roll his hips gently, just enough for a little friction.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Please, need you to fuck me full Dr. Crane.” you rushed out. His words had a way of causing the deepest reaction from you. You needed him so desperately you didn't understand anything but him right now. “Please, I need it.”

“Need it that bad? Tell me whose pussy this is then, tell me baby girl who do you belong to?” his eyes were fixed on yours, his face turned more serious. Your eyes widened at what he was saying, he wanted you to be his and his alone. The implication should have probably frightened you, made you struggle away but it didn't. You wanted him to ruin you, have you in every way. “Well?” he pressed.

“Yours, Dr. Crane.” you said softly and pushed yourself against him with a little whine. “All yours.” you conceded.

With a low groan he slowly began to thrust into you again, pulling back almost completely to fill you up again. “That's it, all mine.” he sank his back into the crook of your neck and littered it with sloppy kisses and the warmth of his tongue and teeth grazing the now new overly sensitive spot on your body. A hand came to roam over your breasts, squeezing one and pinching at your nipple before repeating the actions to the other. You whined and your hands came to tug at his dark hair. He smiled against your jaw before nipping at it. The thought of his marks adorning your chest and neck tomorrow made you feel even warmer.

You held tightly to him now that he was pounding into you with a firm hold on your hips. Your whole body was responding to him perfectly and he just knew exactly where to hit that spot that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Fu-ck, gonna cum!” you managed to squeak out, every thrust taking your breath with it. The only acknowledgement from Johnathan was his free hand snaking up your chest and his hand wrapped itself tightly around your through. He pulled back to look at you as his hips snapped into you faster, his eyes transfixed on watching you come undone under him. Your eyes fluttered to maintain focus on his face as the all too familiar sensation took over. You shook as you felt your release practically poor out of you with how stuffed you were.

“So good, so fucking tight.” he said with a low groans as he thrusted into you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath after your climax. His eyes are fixed where your bodies connect, watching his cock ruin your pussy. “Fucking perfect. My pussy. My girl.” he grunts between thrusts. You held onto him, arms locked around his neck. He fucked into you desperately and he was still hitting you so deep you couldn't help the lewd sounds coming from you. Your sweet little whimpers and moans encouraging him to fuck you faster. He grinned down at your fucked out face, tears streaming down your cheeks as your body became sweetly overstimulated. He could feel and hear your slick coating your lower bodies.

It was becoming overwhelming for you, his cock hitting the right spots over and over without stopping while his ships slammed into you. “To much! Too–aahh much please!” you begged for release, still to cling to him.

“Sshhh baby you can do it, give me one more. Squeeze my cock like that one more time.” he encouraged through low groans. He brought the hand down between your bodies to run fast circles on your clit. “You can do it, cum again for me. Such a pretty thing when you cum.” The sounds of your fluids mixing filled the room along with breathy moans and gasps from the both of you.

You cried out a moan and screwed your eyes shut. He was going to force another orgasim from your abused cunt and there was no stopping him, you could feel your stomach tighten and pussy flutter uncountably around his girth. “Fuck! Please ple-” you groaned out as another orgasm shook through your body, your pussy spasming around his cock as he continued to stroke your sweet spot through your climax. You felt his cock shoot another full load of his hot cum deep into your waiting pussy.

“Good girl.” he cooed, slowing his relentless pounding as your pussy pulsed around his cock. “So good baby, you did so well, are you ready for your treat?” he asked and you nodded, your chest heaving as you looked up at him and his still hard cock twitched at the sight of tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He smirked at the thought of you being so overly stimulated and crying for him. Then with you still impaled on his throbbing cock, he wrapped his arms around your back and brought you to sit on his lap with his legs now firm on the ground.

Your back arched and you let out a strangled moan as he managed to sink just a little further into you. You could feel his cum leaking from your spent hole and down his dick, your mixed fluids soon began drenching his pants as he bounced you on his cock. “Dr. Crane, so much cu-um.” you whimpered, trying to hold yourself up with shaky arms. “So full, there's so much.” you babbled out between moans. You were cock drunk and it was evident as your eyes streamed with tears

Johnathan couldn't blame you however, he was right there with you, your pussy was constantly clenching around him like you were always on the verge of another orgasm. “You can handle a little more right? I mean look how much has already spilled out?” he said, gazing down at where your bodies connected. You followed his eyes and the sight alone sent a shiver through you. Slick and cum oozed around the base of his cock with every thrust into you. “Your pussy feels so good Babygirl, squeezing me so tight. Do you want to cum again?” he asked, bringing a hand down to rub against your overly sensitive clit as his hips rutted up against your own.

You whined and your arms folded in on you, no longer able to hold yourself up. You were so tired but he felt too good, your pussy responded so well to his touch you couldn’t help when another orgasm began to wind itself up. “To mu-uch, feels weird Dr. Crane” you practically screeched into his chest and blinked away tears that threatened to fall.

His hips continued to hit your tender bundle of nerves while his hands simultaneously slammed you down into his cock and abused your throbbing clit. “Good, that's it, let it feel good and make a mess for me.” he encouraged, feeling his own release creeping up. His words relaxed you and you soon felt the wave slam into you within seconds. Your body tensed and your legs shook around him as you self liquid drench his lower stomach and under your bodies. You cried into his chest, tears now rolling down your cheeks. “Fu-cuk, that's it. Squeezing me so well to take my fat load.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your shoulder and rutting into you as he emptied his balls into your sloppy hole.

You pulled back and looked at him, eyes tired and pussy still fluttering around him. Your mind and body were so tired but your pussy shuddered at the thought of him pulling out. “Can we stay like this?” you asked hopefully.

He smiled softly at you and brought his hands to cradle you upper and lower back. He leaned back more and pulled you to lay on his chest. “Don't worry sweet girl, I got you.” he coles while stroking your back and gently rocking his hips up.

you whined softly against him. “Some toxin, you can keep coming after all of that.” you noted, almost frightened since your pussy was pusling and raw some rought he was already fucking you.

He chuckled and rolled his hips gently again, starting a steady rhythm that was actually relaxing and had you curling into you as your eyes fluttered shut. “I know, and thankfully I have you to take it all for me, I did say I’d give you everything.” he held you firmly against him, his hips picking up speed but staying gentle and as calming as he can manage. “I'll take good care of you.” he whispered into your ear. You sighed and gave in, relaxing fully into him as he used your pussy to get off again. You didn’t want to fight it, even this, being a ragdoll for him to fuck into was wonderful.

To say the mess you woke up to was almost alarming. you, laying on his chest with his soft cock still buried in you with mixed fluids still soaking your bodies.

#johnathan crane #johnathan crane x reader #batman begins #scarecrow #dc scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #Dr. crane #dr.crane x reader #batman smut #batman begins smut #dc x reader #jonathan crane x reader smut

703 notes · View notes

im-ovulating · 2 months ago

Text

I've been seeing in influx of people saying this shit again, so… rant time!

Jacob wasn't attracted to the egg inside of Bella and, subsequently shouldn't have also been attracted to Edward's glittery swimmers.

Reasoning?

How about because Smeyer herself has denied that claim, first and foremost.

But let's say she didn't:

The imprinting happens between the shifter and a person… An egg isn't a person. A sperm isn't a person. A zygote isn't a person. An embryo isn't a person. And, finally, a fetus isn't a person. Only the fully developed baby is a person. Therefore, nothing happening in Bella's womb or ovaries (and certainly not in Edward's ballsack) has anything to with Jacob liking Bella.

Jacob was in love with Bella way before he even shifted, too.

Take it up with biology.

Next order of buisness:

JACOB NEVER WANTED TO BE TIED TO THE DEMON CHILD!!

His direct line of thinking was, "I'm gonna kill that freaky thing because it killed the woman I love -> oh shit, my entire being is being stripped away, and my own feelings and thoughts are being rewritten against my own wishes -> God damn it, now i can't even force myself to hold onto my hatred for this thing because I just became its emotional (and physical) slave." He lost his free will in that moment, unable to control his own thoughts and feelings. Here's an excerpt:

"The murderer stared past Rosalie's shoulder at me, its gaze more focused than any newborn creature's gaze should be.

Warm brown eyes, the color of milk chocolate the exact same color that Bella's had been.

My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat-not a burning.

It was a glowing.

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the half-vampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was - my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self - disconnected from me in that second -snip, snip, snip- and floated up into space." -Breaking Dawn, Chapter 18, page 306-307.

'Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me in that second and floated up into space.'

That is not something Jacob ever wanted. In fact, throughout the series, he doesn't hide that he hates the idea of imprinting... he lost his free will when he was forced to join the pack when he shifted (bc out of all the places in the world, the Cullens had to set up shop right where they knew their presence would cause a problem), so what makes you guys think that him hating his autonomy being compromised would suddenly go away when he was made to imprint on the thing that killed his childhood friend and love?

Even the official guide talks about how imprinting is completely out of the wolves' control.

"If the werewolf does imprint, he is forever changed. From the second he sees the object of his imprinting, he will do anything to please and protect her. All other commitments in his life become secondary, even his commitment to the pack." -The Twilight Saga The Official Illustrated Guide, page 310.

Also from the guide: "Once a werewolf transforms, his aging speeds up until he reaches the age of maturity, roughly twenty-five. At this point, as long as he continues to phase, he remains at that age. It's possible that a werewolf could choose to live this way forever and enjoy the same limited immortality as a vampire, but most Quileute werewolves give up phasing in order to grow old and die alongside their family and friends. Once a werewolf gives up phasing altogether, he slowly begins to age again until his aging reaches the normal human speed." -page 308

The wolves never age so long as they keep shifting... Renanameme is already clingy and possessive of Jacob. She's never going to let him stop phasing because she's going to want him around forever. So now, not only is he stuck with the creature that killed (yes, 'killed,' because vampires are dead) his love, but he is stuck living amongst the very creatures he was created to fight and kill. Forced to inhale their sickly sweet "almost rotten" scent for eternity as his baser instincts scream at him to eliminate them the way he was born to.

One last thing: Jacob never asked Edward if he should call him "Dad". That was a change they made for the movie. Originally, there was never a line even *close* to that in the books...

Okay... I could keep going, but I'm not sure anyone even read this far, so: rant over...

I'm just so sick of the Jacob slander coming from people who have either never fucking read the books or read them so long ago that they don't remember the integral parts of the thoughts and feelings of these characters.

Jacob is the victim here, not the perpetrator.

#lackie lingo #jacob black #edward cullen #bella swan #the twilight saga #twilight breaking dawn #jacob black x reader #edward cullen x reader #bella swan x reader

58 notes · View notes

taki118 · 4 months ago

Text

Yakuza Fiance Ep1 Manga Comparison

The first ep of Raise wa Tanin ga Ii aka Yakuza Fiance, just aired. Overall the ep was good, great expressions and voice work and the pacing was fairly good, HOWEVER there are some important and/or fun things that slipped through the cracks of adaptation. Since I am SUPER normal about the manga I got everything here under the cut. Warning these are fan translations cause I'm lazy.

We are starting out stronger here with this little back and forth between Kirishima and Tachibana

The anime cuts out Tachibana's response which helps to show how these characters interact but also establishes the impression Yoshino gives to others she doesn't interact with.

So overall the scene of Yoshino confronting Renji gets cut down but I think the loss of this character beat is sad.

In the anime Renji just changes the topic when Yoshino bemoans her looks, while in the manga he actually kinda feels bad for her and does more to talk up the situation. Another bit we loose is Renji noting how similar Kirishima and Gaku look this comes up a few times later on in the series so its fine but still.

Overall the scene goes on longer and you get a better feel for the dynamic between the two. Also he talks Kirishima up WAY more so you can better understand why Yoshino would even go.

Yoshino's arrival is also way shorter in the anime, she just kinda arrives. We loose this explanation by Renji about the differences between Tokyo and Osaka Yakuza

Followed up by Yoshino noting the compound does feel like a traditional inn but that you can't ignore its a Yakuza home due to security cameras about.

But this is nothing compared to Yoshino and Kirishimas first meeting the anime cuts quite a bit from Kirishima revealing he was with her the whole time to talking about staying in the annex.

When Kirishima starts pulling her along Yoshino kinda notices his pushy behavior, at a later point Tsubaki will equate it to a salesman forcing his way in and that is exactly what Kirishima is doing. This next bit however I am really upset got cut.

After asking why she doesn't have an accent Yoshino explains Renji taught her both dialects in a weird "Do what the locals do" mindset. This bit follows where Kirishima assumed she'd have a strong accent and this is actually a bit of foreshadowing, set up to a later pay off that happens in the ep, and a bit of characterization for Yoshino. That's a lot so let me explain

Kirishima reveals he had expectations for Yoshino as a person this right here is the first hint of it and will carry into the alley incident later but also just overall. Yoshino almost always acts in a way Kirishima does not expect.

The series starts with Yoshino speaking with an Osakan accent then when shes in Tokyo it stops only to come back in times of stress or anger, you might not notice however she's dropped the accent without Kirishima noting it. So when he asks where's her accent? That kinda tells the audience to look for it and oh boy do we get it

Finally this shows a little of Yoshino character as well, she's trying to blend in, trying to not make a fuss and make things easier for everyone and a way she does that is by altering the way she speaks, but you can also see it all over the scene she's very stiff she doesnt want to touch anything so she holds her bag tight

The tour is also a little longer but the overall speech at the end is the same in both. Though again you can see more clearly how Yoshino was charmed into coming to Tokyo in the manga as we spend more time with Kirishima.

One thing I noticed is we loose a lot of Yoshino's internal thoughts in the anime and along with foreshadowing. Such as this moment.

This is the first time the readers are let in on the idea that theres something up with Kirishima until this moment he seemed maybe a little odd but overall normal, this gives us a glimpse of whats to come.

I think this is the best example of removing Yoshino's thoughts in the anime she just notes she's getting a lot of stares but the manga has a full page on this

This actually starts a mini arc for these chapters where Yoshino compares her life in Osaka to Tokyo and how different it is. Like there's a difference to getting talked about behind your back where you can't hear and within hearing difference, her situation wasn't great in Osaka but she knew how to deal with it. This is all new to her and kinda establishes she's dealing with a lot.

After seeing him in the yard at night, which is the same in the anime and manga, the anime only gives us a brief scene of Yoshino thinking Kirishima is acting distant and only giving a slight thought to what the moment could mean for him. And did you guess it? the manga gives us more.

We get a confirmation that days have passed since then, which the anime doesn't denote, she then ponders what he does outside of school and tries to push it from her mind.

From here we get the same bit of girls gossiping about her openly that the anime has where they suggest she's a prostitute working off a debt and such. The scenes are much the same expect for how it ends. The anime just has her calling it a pain in the ass but in the manga we get this bit after that thought.

Much like before this shows that Yoshino is dealing with a lot and nearing her limit. She's alone in Tokyo and isn't sure what to do.

The build up to the alley scene is a LOT shorter in the anime than the manga and is loosing out on some character moments for Yoshino.

We have her being worried about imposing on Kirishima and him brushing it off. Then when she notices she didnt withdraw money he states he thought HE was paying, again these subtle notes that he's been making assumptions about her.

The pick up guys scene is the same overall in the anime as in the manga, if anything the lead into the fight...actually can i call that a fight? the beating in the alley is longer in the anime. But it does cut this character beat here

The scene is relatively the same but we loose Kirishima casually tossing what I can only assume is that guys tooth over his shoulder. It helps to show how horribly he's beaten them and how callous he is to this violence and I honestly don't get why they didn't use it.

The scene after this as they walk away and his tattoo is revealed is the same but once more we loose a Yoshino thought that kinda helps to explain the scene

I get they likely didnt want to break tension but they could easily have had her voice that while she's use to tattoo's and violence with Kirishima it's different, it unsettles her.

The scene where his mask drops fully is very accurate to the manga however when he starts talking about selling her body the manga actually goes into far greater detail this is about the only thing I get being cut back.

Now transitioning back to the school the anime looses this lead in moment that shows how on edge Yoshino is

She hears a boy speak behind her and it scares her, the assumption being he must sound like Kirishima. Her internal dialogue also tells us that she hasn't seen him for a bit since the alley. The anime comes in after this where she contemplates going back to Osaka but goes against it but again doesn't denote time passing where as the manga states it hasn't been a month yet.

The "bullying" scene is the same in the anime and manga but her clean up is longer and gives a look into Yoshinos mind again

She is methodically thinking about how to mange the shoes, showcasing how she tends to focus on small things right in-front her and just dealing with it, all the while trying to push the unpleasant parts from her mind such as returning to the Miyama house.

We get the same thought from of thinking of going back to Osaka but shaking it off in anime as in the manga but as shown here without a lot of the build up the manga has. For what I have to assume is time reasons, we don't get Yoshino's thoughts on her situation as much and her growing exhaustion from all the mental shit she's dealing with. Think about it she moves miles from home, is living alone with strangers, going to a school where people openly bad talk and bully her, and the person she came here to get to know has been lying to her and tells her she's worthless and to just sell herself or leave, and this all happens in less than a month. I sure as hell would want to quit. But I don't think the anime really gets this across all that well.

So again this next scene with Renji goes about the same in the anime I mean its functionally the same but again we loose a little character beat.

So far I'd say there's a warmth that's missing from these talks between grand father and daughter in the anime. Yoshino doesn't stop acting like she's fine until she starts getting a normal conversation from hi , probably the most normal one she's had in days. This also sets up how Yoshino picked up gardening from Renji which is just a nice thing as she does garden later in the series.

But also the anime looses out on this great expression

Its a much more one sided conversation in the anime, again giving distance to the characters. Think about how you talk to those you are close with you interrupt them more and such much like the manga does.

After this the scenes are identical to the manga a couple lines dropped but overall its the same which is good cause these are the scenes that originally sold me on the series.

So that's it every major thing that the anime dropped from the manga. Overall its not bad but looses some insights into Yoshino which I hope doesn't continue. I might do these for each ep we'll see.

#yakuza fiance #Raise wa Tanin ga Ii #manga #yoshino somei #kirishima miyama

68 notes · View notes

tainbocuailnge · 5 months ago

Text

we're told and shown very little of what shalem and phantom's bond was and is like, so there's a lot of ways to interpret it. but personally I think it's a bit of a waste to show them straightforwardly getting along when they're both extremely insane in conflicting ways. the only on-screen interaction they have is shalem reprimanding phantom, and then testing him, and phantom's response is that he'll do something really detrimental to himself if shalem asks. so to go with their first impressions as looming ominous guy and modest nervous guy and portray shalem as losing composure & getting all blushy at phantom's advances doesn't feel right to me.

shalem actually presents himself to doctor as the one you go to when /you/ lose composure. his profile is clearly written by the troupe instead of rhodes HR like everyone else, and it tells you "you don't remember meeting, but you trust him and rely on him," like a command for the situation to develop as such, rather than a report of how the situation developed. his colleagues think shalem is weirdly pessimistic sometimes, but he's capable and reliable. his role as "modest and gentle shalem" requires him to be composed. in those new CN lines where doctor hands him an outfit to put on he doesn't sound embarrassed about it either. I don't think flirtatious attention would get him to blush that easily.

all the glimpses of what he's like outside that role show him as pretty decisive. every instance of breaking character is him being more forceful than his image allows. if something needs doing and nobody is doing it shalem will go "this is stupid why are we letting this happen" and step in. when he loses composure in his oprec he tries to :/ through the pain before getting screaming mad. when he's scared he gets mad too. shalem tries very hard to be a meek person and his life would be easier if he actually was, but he's not. he's mentally stronger than a lot of people including himself give him credit for. he just doesn't like when it's quiet.

and phantom clearly trusts shalem enough to completely submit to his judgement. the one interaction they're shown having is phantom saying he'll sing if shalem wants him to. phantom will explicitly do what shalem tells him to even if he thinks its a bad idea.

his codename may be phantom and his cat's name christine, but lucian is the christine in this situation. he's the young actor kidnapped and forced to sing by his shadowy teachers. they're making him play the phantom of the opera but that doesn't mean he actually is the phantom. shalem is far more like the phantom of the opera than lucian. shalem can't exist without the mask that lets him pretend to be a real person or leave the theater that mask was made for. it's just that his mask is also salome, which makes him extra insane (love) because salome was a no-name normal girl used as a tool in political machinations until she got written into a play that reinterpreted her as insane and a willing participant. so shalem's nightmares try to convince him he actually did want that guy's head on a plate.

phantom's second module says he doesn't see any art in killing despite how much the troupe hyped it up to him, but he works as assassin and went back to kill the troupe. shalem does still see the art in it, but he works in logistics and ran away because he didn't want to kill. we know phantom left after he realized his teachers were villains and that he completely trusts shalem's judgement, so while there's no clear proof it's likely that shalem's betrayal is what inspired phantom to leave as well. everyone in the troupe was raised to look up to lucian, and told that they had no worth if they couldn't make it to his level. shalem didn't have what it took to become like lucian, but that's exactly what made phantom want to be more like shalem.

and again, we know very little of what their relationship was like, or is like now. we know phantom completely trusts shalem, but the only opinion shalem expresses about phantom is "we're certainly similar, but I'd like to stay away from all that" and their only interaction is shalem reprimanding and testing phantom. so it's possible that shalem doesn't like phantom at all, and is only saving him because the situation is stupid and someone has to do something. phantom is the only person who could begin to understand shalem, but shalem doesn't like being seen closely because he's scared he has no "self" behind the act, so phantom understanding him might not be a good thing to shalem.

I think that kind of resentment between fellow survivors is really interesting. they both left, but lucian is still the troupe's favourite while shalem is called a cowardly traitor. even if shalem does get along with phantom, that would still be simmering below the surface right? their experiences were similar, but lucian was the standard that the others were held to, and the punishment for not being able to live up to that standard was death. isn't it a sick joke to have to go back to save the man whose mere existence made yours harder?

phantom knows that he was the bait the troupe used to draw in fresh blood, and he feels deeply guilty over it. so I think his willingness to submit to shalem's judgement is also because he knows he's at least partially to blame for what's wrong with shalem. meanwhile shalem's nightmares taunt him by saying the troupe was wrong and he's a great actor, so I think part of him still wants to prove himself as an actor. he wants to escape the audience in his head, but can't fully let go of the promise of getting to be on the stage either. and while phantom is the more outwardly insane one, he's making new friends and picking up new hobbies in his oprec while shalem has to be in the eternal nightmare vortex. even in rhodes island phantom is the one who actually gets what shalem wants.

so you have shalem, who wants a normal life he can't have because he was raised to be an actor-assassin with no self, and phantom, who is willing to do whatever shalem says to make up for being the symbol used to ruin shalem's ability to live normally.

phantom in general tends to punish himself. he refuses both medical treatment and gratitude until folinic corners him and chews him out. he feels guilty over being a dangerous person to associate with, but also over rejecting the help he is offered in spite of this. he's willing to submit to shalem's judgement and accept any punishment from him, but shalem wants to be normal and just helps him because it's the right thing to do and this whole situation is stupid, but that only makes phantom feel even more guilty. that too is unresolved resentment.

there's a tension between them where phantom repeatedly shows a desire to leave his decisions to others, while shalem desperately tries to take his decisions from the hands of others. there's clear incentive for phantom to just hand all his agency over to shalem, especially if we assume that shalem leaving is indeed what inspired phantom to follow, and depending on how you read the scene it's phantom's willingness to do what shalem says rather than his reluctance to sing that confirms to shalem that phantom is back to usual. phantom through this respect for and trust in shalem gives shalem a lot of power over him that shalem doesn't actually want to have, because the only decisions shalem wants to be controlling are his own.

they certainly are similar, but they cannot recognise themselves in that mirror, because the part of them that wants to be like the other is at odds with their actual desires. phantom left the troupe like shalem did, perhaps even to follow shalem's example, but shows no indication of wanting a normal life. shalem is a valued coworker, and phantom is an elusive mystery that schwarz warns you as someone familiar with the underworld to stay away from. he speaks of guilt and punishment and truth, but not of what comes after, and he's largely dependent on miss christine to be his moral compass. he's making friends and getting hobbies only because miss christine pushed him to. phantom values justice, but struggles to make his own judgements, and seems to reason that since he's already a murderer he might as well keep killing.

shalem meanwhile values normalcy, but doesn't seem to care nearly as much about justice. his reasoning for defying the troupe and letting his target go wasn't that it was wrong to kill, but that the situation was ridiculous and there had to be a different way. what shalem's nightmares taunt him with isn't the morality of his actions, the way phantom stumbles over his words to justify himself in his own nightmares, but whether they were really his actions. violence excites shalem in a way it doesn't for phantom, and he has no hesitance about threatening murder to secure his agency.

so phantom values justice, and he values shalem's judgement, but he appears unaware that shalem doesn't actually share those values. a normal life just generally doesn't require or involve murder. so while phantom is frequently punishing himself out of guilt and is implicitly looking to shalem to deliver some of that punishment, shalem doesn't really give a shit, because he doesn't really want to think about let alone reckon with their pasts at all. what shalem reprimands him for is causing trouble for the doctor.

their relationship is, by virtue of both operating through externally imposed personalities, inherently somewhat out of sync. you might even call it somewhat parasocial. I think there's probably a lot of pity involved too, pity for the one made to chase your shadow, and pity for the one who cannot escape that shadow. as fellow survivors they're the only ones who could possibly understand each other, but their values and priorities don't line up, and so neither do their expectations and images of each other.

but crucially, i think if any moves are to be made between them, it has to be shalem who makes those moves. because phantom wants to leave his choices to others while shalem is far more decisive than he appears and in fact much of shalem's character tension is based in being forced to finally step up and do something. phantom has very decisively put the ball in shalem's court by establishing that he'll literally do whatever shalem says. all of which is a very long way to say. i respectfully disagree with some of the fanart ive seen on twitter dot com lately.

#arklance #metapost #arknights #shalem #shalem arknights #phantom #phantom arknights

99 notes · View notes

vrisrezis · 2 years ago

Note

Just the progression of rocket and y/ns relationshio throughout the movies? Like their relationship in vol1, 2, infinity war, endgame, holiday special maybe? and then vol 3?

Vol 1 :

You and rocket aren’t the closest automatically, I imagine rocket being very sarcastic towards you as he normally is with everyone else. I imagine rocket would find you attractive right away though, and would not shy away from nicknames like doll. He’d do it in a teasing way though, to not make it the most noticeable that he’s perhaps interested in you. However if you are like him and happen to be animalistic, he is noticeably a little different in terms of his sarcasm and he’s more likely to grow a soft spot for you quickly. However, you form a close bond after you comfort him in his drunken state, when he calls himself a monster. You have no reason to be so kind to him, after everything he’s done since the two of you met, so it strikes a cord in him. From on that point he’s noticeably softer and he might even start to gain feelings that are a little deeper than just initial “oh they’re hot” his feelings only growing deeper when you comfort him when he thought he lost groot. Again, doing something out of kindness when you don’t have to.

Vol 2 :

The two of you are close friends at this point, you’ve helped him raise groot. All of them had, but you especially. Nowadays, you often talk to him while he’s tinkering with random things. You become mad at him for stealing batteries, which leads to you joining quill and the others on his dad journey. You two separate for the first time since knowing eachother, and rocket is left to self reflect on himself (thanks to yondu). He’s able to realize he’s been pushing people away or acting like he doesn’t care for them, he even does so with you. Yondu tells him, if he really loves you, he should show it. I imagine he stopped acting like he didn’t care for groot after watching him almost die, so I imagine that when he sees you again, after that point no longer pretends he doesn’t care for you. He ends up confessing he cares for you deeply, and while his confession is obviously romantic, you take it as platonic. He does this right before you try to save quill, and you’re still persistent even after his confession, so he’s forced to tase you. After that though, the two of you do finally make up and he properly apologizes to you.

I am groot:

The two of you have an unspoken relationship. You two are very much like parents to groot at this point, and groot makes this very aware to the both of you. You don’t think much of it, as it makes sense since you’ve helped rocket so much in taking care of groot. However there seems to be an unspoken tension that gets even stronger because of what he’s told you both, called you both. Rocket is not only more aware of his feelings, he’s more aware that groot knows. Rocket knows he should do something about his feelings, but he stays silent.

Infinity war:

While he is once again sad to see the two of you separate again, it’s for the fate of the universe. You decide to stay with the morons in order to keep them safe, and rocket understands. It’s in your nature to be selfless and that you’d want to keep your family safe. Also, the fact rocket and groot are gonna be with the god of thunder certainly helps you feel more secure in the fact he and groot will be fine. Rocket casually demands a hug goodbye from you, growing more comfortable at this point for his feelings towards you without saying anything outright. Your relationship always seemed very friendly, but this time it feels more intimate and romantic, despite the fact neither of you have made your feelings aware to one another.

Endgame:

The two of you find solace in one another after the loss of your family. You end up dating over the course of the 5 years you two spent on earth together. After all the grief and pain, it’s something rocket simply could not keep to himself anymore. Especially since, he truly wants you to know he loves and cares for you, deeply. He thought for a moment you were gone too, before you came to earth along with nebula and Tony. He has made the effort since then for you to realize how much he cares. The two of you seperate, you deciding to help Tony, Steve, and others go back in time. Rocket bids you farewell, giving you a nice hug and a kiss. You two reunite after all is said and done, happy to see one another in one piece, as well as your family.

Holiday special:

Your relationship is a newfound development by the other guardians at this point, but mantis still manages to find you two adorable whilst everyone else is kinda offput by it at the moment. Not in a bad way, it’s just kinda new to them. You spend a lot of your time together this day, and eventually helping mantis set up Christmas for Peter. You gave eachother special gifts to one another, you granted him a special weapon designed by the people of wakanda, a weapon that can turn into any weapon at will. And what he got you? A necklace you loved that he broke… forever ago. He’s very embarrassed about his gift in comparison to yours, but you were still happy with it. Oh, and Peter was in a funny mood that day, so he even set up a mistletoe for you two to kiss under.

Vol 3.

Since you spend most of it praying your beloved isn’t dead, you don’t exactly interact with him specifically … very much. You go through hell and back just to make sure he comes alive okay, and he does. You embrace eachother the second you see eachother again, a very different embrace than any other hug you two gave one another. A mutual agreement that you’re both glad rockets alive. You fight together (albeit you’re a little protective of him), and after everything’s said and done, rocket is the captain. You’re still by his side, but now you’re following orders. In the past you would’ve made fun of him for suggesting he was captain, but now, it just feels right.

#rocket the raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader

500 notes · View notes

rispwr · 5 months ago

Text

LINGER - JK - FF

PART THREE

PART TWO:

https://www.tumblr.com/rispwr/759139180906414080/part-two?source=share

PART ONE:

https://www.tumblr.com/rispwr/759138850658566144/part-one?source=share

genre:fluff

contents: no smut for noww

What else do i have to do to keep you from lingering in my mind?

pairings : classmate! bestfriend! jk x classmate! reader

genre:fluff

it's a kind of fwb typa stuff so yeah

summary : for 9 years of being in the same class with him since 3rd grade you have developed a small admiration towards him, till it had grown stronger the more you stay with him. will you be able to keep this secret from your bestfriend forever? does he know you like him? or do you both share the same feelings?

I was first

it's been a week since that happened. ever since that happened, i couldn't stop thinking about it.

how could he let me do it?

does he like me?

or is he just horny that time.

i know jungkook is a little bit of a perv. ofcourse i've been with him for how many years? yeah. time is really fleeting. i myself didn't know aswell what had got into me when that happened.

i felt my underwear soak as i stare at my food blankly

"hey? y/n?" he says but it's nothing to me.

"y/n." he said as he snaps his fingers, making me go back to my senses.

"ah- y-yes?" i stuttered, giving him my attention. "here, eat this. the bell will ring in a minute and you haven't touched your food." he said feeding me the food (with a spoon ofcourse) gently.

"oh..thanks kookk" i said giving him a smile as i chew.

"hey jungkook?"

"y/n?"

we said at the same time.

we look at each other confused at each other, knowing damn well we wanted to say something to each other but just couldn't bring it to words.

"you first kook" i said "oh..nevermind" he says as his smile goes down but he tries to smile back again giving you a forced smile.

"uhm..kook." i said, tapping my nails onto the table, biting my lips trying to get something out of my lips atleast a word.

"why are you always lingering in my mind?"

i said.

"huh?" he says as he tilts his head to the side in confusion

"you don't seem to understand kook.." i said looking down.

"y/n, i-i don't understand?" he adds. "nevermind. let's go to class?" i said as i try to quickly change up the awkward situation between us.

giving him back my ginny and cute smile to lighten up his mood.

he then took my hand as we interwined hands.

"y/nieee!!" my friend jimin said as he hugs me making me pull away from jungkooks hand.

"jiminieeee!!" i said hugging him back tightly.

Jimin, my childhood bestfriend since we were kids aswell. him and jungkook never really got along for their own reasons which i do not know why or what that is. everytime jimin would approach me i would always feel that jungkook is glaring or looking upset. at first i thought it was normal for my bestfriend to get jealous at my bestfriend. but that was when i haven't developed feelings for him yet! now i have officially confirmed it, i do love jungkook. but now it's hard, he keeps sending mixed signals.

he would always treat me specially. well ofcourse! i'm his bestfriend and i've been with him for so long aleady.

sometimes i would think if are we friends or more than that?

jungkook's my first kiss

my first date and my date to proms

and the person i always feel safe with.

"it's been so long y/niee" jimin gives me a smile as his eyes lit up "it's been so long too minii!! like 3 or 4 years?" i said smiling at him as i grab jungkooks hand to interwine our hands again

"oh you and jungkook are together?" jimin asks.

jungkook scoffs "nope, but we're more than what you and y/n are" he teases

"you really never changed. still the same old possesive and jealous kook" jimin replies

they bickered for a while as i stay silent.

the word "more than" kept on echoing and lingering in my mind.

what does he mean by that?

jungkook's pov:

i was talking to her non stop about how much i hate our professor and why he's giving us so much assignments and projects. and to top of it all, all of those projects i wasn't paired with y/n! i was so annoyed.

as i was talking, i paused for a moment as i noticed my bestfriend looking down at her food and circling her spoon around her soup, lost in thought.

"y/n?" i gently tried to catch her attention but it doesn't seem to work.

"y/n." i said as i gently tap her on her shoulders and snap my finger, making her go back to reality

"ah- y-yes?" she muttered, as her eyes go up to me. her cute and lovely brown eyes, as her eyelash gently flicks everytime she blinks.

"here, eat this. the bell will ring in a minute and you haven't touched your food." i said as i gently get the spoon to scoop some food from her tray to feed her

"oh..thanks kookk" she gives me a smile. i could look at her smile all day.

why do i feel like this?

it's like whenever i'm around her i feel like i can be myself and be ugly as much as i can and she judge me for it. instead she makes me feel safe.

she's the only girl who makes me feel this type of way.

"hey jungkook?" she said

"y/n"

we said at the same time.

we look at each other confused at each other. i knew she wanted to say something but i also wanted to say something.

something i've wanted to tell her for so long but i just couldn't bring it into words.

"you first kook" she said "oh..nevermind" i said as i shush my thoughts away, letting her speak first.

"uhm..kook." she said. her nails tapping onto the table. i could see she was trying to say something but couldn't leave her mouth.

"why are you always lingering in my mind?" she said.

lingering?

the word linger echoes in my head.

"huh?" i said as i tilts my head to the side in confusion

"you don't seem to understand kook.." she said looking down.

i do understand her.

i knew what she was feeling towards me and what i was feeling towards her, i just couldn't figure out what i was feeling. i don't wanna risk our friendship.

she then tries to change the awkward tension between us by giving me her smile.

i'm so addicted.

we stood up from the chair and pulled her hand gently to interwine our hands

until someone hugs her out of no where, making her pull away from my hand.

"y/nieee!" the man squeals, hugging her tightly.

"jiminieee!!" she also squeals hugging him back.

i took a few step backwards, feeling a tight knot in me. i didn;t know how to feel.

y/n hugging someone else that's not me? especially a man??

especially the man i have despised for years.

jimin, we never really get along with each other, we always hated each other. i hated him for touching y/n like how im supposed to be touching her.

i was first.

her first kiss

her first and will always be her date to any events and proms.

she was mine and i was hers.

i was there when she was on edge of everything, and he wasn't.

i hated seeing them so close together.

i stood there looking upset, glaring at them as y/n pulls me beside her, interwining our fingers again together, making me feel a sort of relief.

"oh you and jungkook are together?" jimin asks.

i really wanted to scream at him and tell him that she's mine and we're together but i couldn't. we aren't even a couple.

just, bestfriends

we're more than bestfriends but less than lovers.

i scoff "nope, but we're more than what you and y/n are" i teased

"you really never changed. still the same old possesive and jealous kook" jimin replied.

#jungkook #jungkook ff #bts x reader #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut

46 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 14 days ago

Note

I know this is a random request but if it's okay could I please ask for a yandere Poseidon where he kidnaps her yes but he gets an odd response out of her instead of being afraid of being

kidnapped she simply says why do you want me I don't see a reason to and the reason she responds this way is because she does not know why he wants her in the first place

and she knows fighting back or even trying to get away from him is simply not an option since

he is a God and she's maybe not human anymore( her character lore explains this) but she knows in terms of power he is stronger while she is weaker so her only main priority is to survive

I think i could make a Drabble out of this! Maybe a continuation of the previous work of Poseidon? Maybe an in-between?

Yandere! Poseidón x Kianna! Reader: Welcome Home.

Everything was…quiet. And that was the most worrying thing of all.

Poseidon had long been bothered by these feelings, feelings that should be reserved for lower beings like HUMANS, not higher beings like the gods. However, no matter what he did, that feeling only festered, grew, and formed roots inside his head. He was going crazy.

His brothers always told him that his short temper would stop once he found a partner, a wife who would keep him in line and calm these violent needs. However, this now seemed more like an illusion shattered, since since he had met her, not only were his violent impulses still in place, but they had only been redirected to other beings, victims of his possessiveness.

Poseidon knew this was inevitable, so maybe it was time to bring Reader right where she belonged...and that's what he did.

He was expecting the predictable, since humans tend to be very attached to the surface and the places in which they were born, no matter how ridiculous it may be, so he expected protests, fighting, screaming, crying. Not that it was something that mattered, it would be a momentary annoyance until he finally had the reader within his reach, that was what mattered.

However, when the KIDDNAPING-escort was executed, reader did not even make a sound…

Not even when they finally arrived at Poseidon's palace. She just stared at him, with those big, bright eyes. Like an animal staring at a predator.

Normally, Poseidon would have liked this, however, in this situation it felt...odd. As if the human was planning something, there was no way she would take this situation as if it were nothing. Ironically, it was her calmness with the situation that disturbed him.

And so the days passed, Poseidon had brought home his new...acquisition. Although of course, he made her stay in her chambers, thinking that if he left her in an even more secluded space, the mask of tranquility would break and reveal her true intentions, but nothing happened, other than being "greatly bored" (according to the mortal's own words, according to servitude).

Okay, that was enough. If she wasn't going to tell him directly what was on her mind, he would make her tell him.

Poseidon made a beeline for his supposed lover's chambers, opened the door without being careful to do so stealthily, and headed towards where she was, looking out through one of the windows.

She noticed his presence immediately and for the first time since she arrived she showed another emotion other than boredom or apathy, it was surprise, again.

That expression became more accentuated when Poseidon grabbed her arm, making her stand up. He looked into her eyes, and blurted out the question he had had all these days.

- “Why are you acting so strange? What are you up to, woman?”-

Reader didn't even know what to answer to that, she tried to think of something, but Poseidon cut her train of thought off again with another question.

- “You can't leave this place, you understand? Your life with those garbage is over, don't get your hopes up about returning to humans, you don't even belong to them anymore” - while he said this, he grabbed her face with his other hand, forcing her to look at him closely.

- “you. belong. to me” -

Reader shouldn't feel good knowing this. She knew it.

She should be terrified, feel betrayed, sad, her life has ended at the whim of this god.

But…

-“….why do you loves me? Want me?…of all beings…What reason is behind it?”

Reader knew that trying to flee from Poseidon of all the gods was useless, and at the same time it was not that she was interested in returning to the people of the temple where they mistreated and exploited her, but she needed to know, she needed to know that Poseidon was not going to be worse. It wasn't just a matter of saving her life, it was a matter of staying alive.

She could feel how, for a second, Poseidon's grip tightened painfully, but it was followed by an almost unknown softness. Poseidon could be gentle, but those were such rare occasions… especially the one they were in now.

Reader stared at the floor for a few seconds, scared to think that she had offended her beloved god, that this could be the last havoc. But she raised her head quickly when clearly hear laughter. A laugh from Poseidon.

Reader felt like she had to pinch herself to believe what she was seeing, Poseidon had not only laughed, but was now smiling. It wasn't a normal or small smile, like the ones she had had the privilege of seeing from him before, it was a smile from ear to ear. And he almost seemed…satisfied, even touched.

- “Mortals are so stupid.”- he said while pinching her cheek, it was as if a child had said a childish nonsense, something completely incorrect.

- “What makes you think I need a reason to love you?”

That single question, that single question completely destroyed the reader's reasoning. Of course, we're talking about Poseidon after all. Why would he need a reason to do things? She had seen him do much worse simply because yes, this wasn't even the worst. And yet it felt so…good to know.

- “a god does not need a reason. I only love you, want YOU, that's the only thing that matters. Don't fill your head with meaningless questions” – he grabbed her face again, more gently, so that she could look him in the eyes.

He seemed almost...proud of her, that she understood her place, that she was willing to be with him, of her DEVOTION for him, that her only doubt was regarding something so mundane was almost something to laugh at, but in a way, charming.

He leaned down to press his forehead to hers, simply glad to finally have satisfactory answers, but even more so, glad that he had finally brought her home after all.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

#headcanons #fem reader #drabbles #drabble #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkirye x reader #shuumatsu no valkirye #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no walkure #ror x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #yandere poseidon #yandere poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #tw yandere

39 notes · View notes

bitter-panacea · 4 months ago

Text

Goultard's accidental queer coding

(And, incidentally, why I headcanon Goultard as transfem/not cis)

Disclaimer : i say goultard's queer coding is accidental because i really dont believe that gou was intended to be read as queer when tot wrote him. Nonetheless, the subtext is still present and i believe any queer person would assume goultard to be somewhat queer while reading the manga. Interpretation can be different from intention. Also, and this applies to most of what i post, i share my personal analysis and interpretation and everyone is free to have their own.

(I got lazy and don't want to format this post properly, so this mess is what you get lol)

Pariah to hero.

Goultard was an outcast since he was born. A very common trope in queer coding.

After he proves himself worthy by showing he can be of use to the village. He's respected, adored, almost worshipped. But only as long as he fulfills the narrow role people want and expect from him. He's rejected and insulted as soon as he doesn't fit into this role.

Strict traditional masculine gender roles are forced on him. The protector. Stronger than any opponent, stronger than himself and his emotions...

I also think of his condition of being a son of iop, this sword of damocles hanging over his head, as a nature that is imposed onto him over and over again when he didnt choose it and doesnt want it. Being a warrior is supposedly in his blood its what hes good at and therefore should do, settling down and having a family is supposedly contrary to this nature. Even though its what makes him the happiest.

I wonder if traditional gender roles vary from one class to another. Is there any specificity between iop men and iop women. If iop men are by default considered more iop than iop women. Is feminity synonym with weakness for iops. Must a iop woman choose to never settle down and stay a real iop or abandon her warrior status/her iopness to raise offspring at home while the iop men can keep fighting. Maybe class affects the form sexism takes.

Ive joked about gou being in a polycule with three outcast witches being proof he isnt cishet and that the three of them were waiting for gou to figure his shit out... kinda real

After being possessed by the symbiote,

(Which can also be seen as him failing at his role of protector, failing to protect his family. He blames himself for it) the way he's rejected, dehumanized, called a monster, a creature, specifically not a man, and at the same time mocked, can be very reminiscent of queer phobia.

His relationship with the symbiote is reffered as them being a couple and compared to a romantic/sexual relationship.

It feels to me like, while gou was possessed, and shortly after, he could allow himself to step out of that preconceived idea of masculinity that comes with being a "hero", and indulge in the gray areas. Not a human or a demon, not a god or a mortal, not a man or a woman. While still having deeply internalized cisheteronormativity, grasping for some "normality" whenever he's faced with someone else's opinion of him. Needing to justify and prove he is not queer, prove he's man enough, prove he isnt weak, like he needs to convince himself as well as everyone else. Hating the subject but bringing it up unprompted. Always overcompensating.

There is something reminiscent of being in a queer relationship for the first time and it happens to be incredibly abusive. You might feel like the abuse is worth it if it means being allowed to be more authentically yourself, you tell yourself your abuser understands you and loves you for who you really are even if they hurt you, and the queerness of the relationship isolates you, making it impossible for you to get help to leave said relationship.

But much later, when his reputation got better (how much did he have to do with it, how much of his reputation is what he carefuly built it to be) and he had to take his father's power and become the new iop god, the pressure to act a specific way, to fit into this box, would have come back. The whole "iops dont cry" thing with gou denying and hiding his emotions in wakfu.

He's often reduced to that image of the unbeatable warrior, the ideal masculinity, the very definition of what a iop should be... what he thinks he should be.

He gets enraged at his fans for essentially worshipping a fake idealized and shallow version of him, making money off of his image and reputation, but rejecting him as a person, his humanity. They dont want to know who he truly is. He wants to be respected for his heroic actions, not because of this fake idealized vision people have of him.

(isnt it fucking hilarious that this is exactly what wakfu and a lot of the fandom does to him too sorry I'll stop being a hater).

Goultard's reputation and how he feels about it is a fascinating subject. Very confusing but thats because he is himself confused about what he wants it to be, but it sure is extremely important to him.

In the end, goultard recognizes the only people who knew and understood him are dead.

His emotions are seen as unmasculine and ridiculous because theyre too intense (seen as hysteric, too sensitive) Vil smisse says he's "worse than a chick". They say he has his mother's character whos literally named cabotine (hysteric).

He sees himself as a poet, someone sentimental, complains that people don't see it, don't recognize it, can't/don't understand this part of him. Kills an entire village because they didnt appreciate this part of him (a little excessive maybe lmao)

The way he presents, wears dresses as a child, skirts later in life, long hair with accessories... not necessarily effeminate but kinda androgynous hes gnc af or whatever. (I dont know what other people think but he always looks super androgynous to me, except in wakfu) Hes very goth looking in the manga which is also queercoded in itself.

His entire relationship with arty like come on.

People call him a homo and assume hes a homo thats pretty queer coded to me lol

Even the text makes fun of him for being the way he is. Hes often shown to be sort of a ridiculous person. Its not just the other characters who think that. They dont really expect you as a reader to sympathize with gou for being ridiculed. There are a few moments that feel gratuitously sadistic towards gou.

Arty also gets disrespected/has homophobia directed at him but always in relation to gou

(People assume arty's queer BECAUSE he's with gou), gou is disrespected/has homophobia directed at him way more and not always because of his relationship with arty (people assume gou's queer because he looks and acts in ways that make people think hes queer)

The whole thing with arty being a dragon is pretty queer coded too, discovering his true nature and being rejected for it, learning to accept himself etc...

But its such a classic trope it also fits other interpretations. Im thinking notably about growing up mixed, hes rejected for not being "human" enough but also not "dragon" enough, too much like a "human" or too much like a "dragon" having trouble figuring out his identity and accepting it, he inherits a long, complex and painful history from one side of his origins, fights to be seen as legitimate by the other dragons, very steven universe-esque.

And it's just very much coming-of-agey in general. His body changing and having new confusing emotions that he struggles to control. Facing new responsibilities. Kind of spiderman like. They do make a little joke about artys adoptive grandpa crail being like his version of uncle ben. So its also a metaphor for growing up in general.

#dofusposting #goultard #wakfu #dofus manga #arty #gou is an egg lol

34 notes · View notes

her-satanic-wiles · 10 months ago

Text

Soul Breaker

Dewdrop/Sodo x Transmasc!Reader

Months after your first encounter with Dewdrop's demonic form, you convinced your lover to let a second hunt begin. But, in the shadow of night, who is truly hunting whom?

Masterlist ⛧ Realm of Souls Masterlist

Commissioned by @dantesunbreaker

Words: 6.6k

Reading Time: 27 min.

Warnings: biting, bondage, degradation, dubcon, fingering, forced bondage, frottage, graphic descriptions of blood, graphic descriptions of injury, hand job, knotting, masturbation, marking, moderate violence, monster fucking, mutual masturbation, no aftercare, pain kink, PIV sex, power play, spit as lube, tsundere!Dew (kinda), unprotected sex (keep it cool, use a tool, you horny fuckers), vaginal sex

Taglist: @dantesunbreaker @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

You could still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins from that night all those weeks ago - the way Dew instilled a fear in you that you’d never felt before, and how you were dying to feel it again. Your love life with Dew was never dull, even when he was in his human form, but there was something about the way he commanded your body, the control he had and the way he felt when he used your body for his own pleasure in his demonic form. Dew had fucked you since then, of course, the two of you could never leave it that long. But, and it pained you to admit it, it just wasn’t the same.

Human Dew was, for lack of a better term, an angel. He was the sweetest person in the Ministry - so kind and so thoughtful, and a stereotypical gentleman. He never overstepped any boundaries, never made you feel unsafe or unloved, and always put your pleasure first. But you’d seen the monster, the demon that had become unleashed and untamed in the light of the moon, who had pinned you down and made you take everything he wanted to give you. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, your hand moving down to play with yourself each and every time your mind decided to take you back to that night, when you were stuffed so full of demon dick and crying out for a mercy that never came. You couldn’t help yourself, needing to work yourself to completion at the thought of it happening again.

But nothing in the Ministry was stronger than Dew’s resolve. The man was more stubborn than a mule, and once he’d set his mind to something, that was it. There was almost no changing that. You’d tried to have these conversations with him, but they always ended the same way.

“I want to keep you safe, ___.” He told you, pleading with you to let this go. “Look at what happened last time.” He was making himself a coffee during this conversation, frustratedly slamming utensils down every time you refused to listen to him.

“Nothing happened last time.” You protested.

“You were scared!”

“That was half the fun!”

“You got caught.”

“Because I went to that cabin. If I’d have stayed in the Ministry, I probably would have gotten away from you.”

“I could have hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t.”

“I… could have done worse.” His voice was quiet that time, eyes averting yours because he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, and expose his true feelings.

You put your hand on his, gently comforting him. You rested your back against your kitchen counter, accidentally half-pinning yourself between it and him. “But you didn’t. Believe me, there was nothing you could have possibly done that I wouldn’t have enjoyed.”

He finally looked at you. “You really enjoyed it that much?”

“Yes! It was different from what you usually do… more ferocious. Normally, you’re so kind and restrained. Still the best I’ve ever had, amazing and wonderful. But that night? You were so rough with me…” Your voice dropped lower as you recounted everything you felt and loved about that night. “You were feral for me, like you’d kill anyone who stopped you from getting to me, like you’d die if you didn’t fuck me. Being desired like that… it-”

Dew could hear the labour in your breath, how just remembering that night was turning you on again. He could practically smell your slick dripping from your slit, and he’d be lying if he said he couldn’t feel his resolve crushing. “Felt good?” He asked, eyes widened and pupils blown.

You lifted your monastic habit and guided his hand to your sex, letting him feel your wetness for himself. “It felt incredible.”

“Fuck.”

The truth was, Dew could remember everything. too. It was like being drunk on a night out and waking up the next morning. He wasn’t entirely in control, but he remembered everything. How your hole welcomed him easily, how your body gave no resistance when he finally took you on the floor of that cabin, fucking the most delicious noises out of you with each pounding you took. How his cock had fucked you so dumb, you could barely comprehend anything besides the way he plunged into you over and over again, and how incredible his ridges felt dragging against your insides. He remembered how your walls fluttered around his length with each filthy word that tumbled from his mouth. And he was getting harder and harder the more he remembered, and the wetter he felt you become.

His skin heated up when he heard a small whimper coming from your mouth, realising that his finger had begun rubbing over your sweet spot, drawing wanton breaths from your lungs. He was fully erect now, his Ghoul uniform tenting significantly at the pressure that was being put on it.

“Y-you want it again, huh?” Dew asked breathlessly, his fingers working you faster.

“Mhm. Want you t-to fuck me dumb again, use my - fuck - use my body to get yourself off.”

Dew captured you in a rough kiss, his tongue immediately sliding down your throat in pure desperation, his composure almost completely lost to the fantasy. You fiddled with his pants, freeing him completely. You spit onto your hand and rubbed it over his shaft before stroking him languidly, concentrating your hand on the head. He purred at the feeling, allowing his hips to buck into your fingers. But eventually, it became too much for him.

He pushed both of your hands out the way and lined himself up with your centre, rubbing against your folds. With each grind against your nerves, your mouth opened wider, head tipping back in pleasure and allowing Dew enough space to bury his head in the crook of your neck. His own moans were muffled by your flesh, more so once his tongue came out and laved at your skin, his moustache tickling you with each graze. Your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer and closer against your body, feeling your wetness slide all over him and only heightening the sensation.

“I t-touch my… self to the thought of it all the ti-ime.” You confessed, one hand tangling in his long hair. His rocking hips became more frantic as he heard your words, your own whimpers reaching directly into his ears and making him lose his mind. He pictured it, you in the shower going at yourself, thinking about his demonic cock railing you from behind.

You felt his teeth graze your skin, and begin to nibble at the flesh, your hole clenching around nothing so needily, you wanted to scream.

“Let me f-feel you again like that, Dew. Please.”

“Y-you wanna feel my fucking demon cock pound you into the floor again, hm? You’re th-that fucking desperate for it, you’re gonna beg… beg me?”

“W-wanna feel you again so fucking b-bad!”

His hips sputtered when he came, his seed spilling all over the bottom of your ass cheeks, folds and thighs. His teeth sunk into you, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark there for at least a few days. He cried out, his sounds quietened by your neck but still loud enough to travel straight down to your core. You came shortly after, the erratic thrusts providing you with just enough extra stimulation to tip you over the edge, your fingernails digging into Dew’s uniform and clutching on tightly as you came undone around him.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, kissing your red flesh and taking a step back.

You looked at him hopefully, wide eyed and wishing he’d give you the answer you wanted to hear.

“___.” He grumbled. “I love you, and that’s why I don’t think I can put you through that again.”

“Dew, you just came to the thought of it. You know it’s-”

“I know!” He sighed. “I know. Just… let me think on it, okay?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Although, you wished you never said that. By the time the next shift happened, Dew, as usual, stayed behind in the music room while the rest of the Ghouls changed and frolicked about in the forest. There were a further two changes before you’d grown tired of waiting.

Dew had been more forthcoming about talking his shift through, however, more often than not reminiscing on the last shift and detailing exactly how good you looked bouncing off his monster cock. You both fucked each other regularly to that memory, talking about it during sex and riling each other up. At one point, Dew even had you beg for his demonic form while you were riding him, feeling disappointed at the difference in girth between his human form and demonic form, remembering just how. Fucking. Good it felt. He was becoming more and more receptive to it, but every time you asked, he would just tell you he needed more time.

The Ghoulettes were the first to pick up on your frustration, and were the first to confront you about it. Cumulus, Cirrus and Aurora sitting you down in the cafeteria one break time and handing you a drink, practically pulling the information out of you. Although, to be fair to them, it wasn’t hard for you to share it. They listened carefully to every word, nodding and dropping the odd noise of understanding to show you that they were truly listening.

You sighed once you’d completed your tale of woe, and took a sip of your drink. “And now we’re here.” You concluded.

“I mean, it’s understandable why he doesn’t want to do it.” Cirrus began. “You’re human, you can’t fight him off if things go wrong. I’m not even sure if we could.”

The Ghoulettes laughed at this, but they were right. Dew had spent centuries down in Hell, long before everyone else had even been thought of. Whenever any of the Ghouls used to rough and tumble with him, he’d beat them with ease - one arm tied behind his back kind of ease. It came as no surprise to Cirrus at least, when Dew stopped shifting into his demonic form. She may have been on his side for that, but she could at least agree with Aurora when she said that Dew was leading you on a bit.

“Do you think he’ll come round to the idea eventually?” You asked, feeling despair grapple at your bones.

“I wouldn’t like to say, kiddo.” Cumulus responded. “But, if he’s playing around with you like this, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he did come around sooner rather than later.”

“You’re just really going to have to convince him.” Aurora chimed in, before taking a sip of her own drink.

You sighed again. “And how could I convince an ancient demon to change his mind and fuck me within an inch of my life?”

The people around you stopped what they were doing and stared at you, a mixture of amusement and confusion etched on their faces. You smiled at them in response, but honestly, you were too frustrated with your demonic lover to care if anyone heard, or was offended by what you had to say.

Cirrus shook her head and rolled her eyes, especially when Aurora lost her mind with the hilarity of the situation. “Look,” she began, making an effort to quieten her voice and stop other people from overhearing her. “The way I see it, you have two choices: you either let him have his way and not go forward with the whole scenario again. Or you find a way to prove to him that you can take it and defend yourself against any attacks he may throw your way.”

“But how?” You asked, now becoming frustrated with your friends.

Cumulus raised her eyebrows. When she spoke, she did so slowly and carefully. “Well, now that we’re not on tour, some of us have some free time. What about we help build your strength up a little? Get you primed and ready to take that dick.”

Cirrus sighed, “We’re not getting one of the Ghouls to fuck him. Dew would have our heads.”

“No, no! Just ‘wrestling’ as the humans like to call it. Training. We throw ourselves at him, starting from worst to best, and then that way he’ll have a fighting chance against Dew if and when Dew finally comes around.”

Aurora nodded. “I like this plan.”

“This is a great plan.” You agreed.

“Yeah, until he gets hurt and Dew comes for our throats. I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t have a death wish.” Cirrus commented.

You thought for a moment. “Dew doesn’t have to know.”

“___, you’re going to go back to him with bruises all over your body and he’s going to get really suspicious. Imagine what that’s going to look like if you don’t tell him - or even worse, you stop sleeping with him.”

“He respects my boundaries - if I tell him I don’t want to sleep with him then he’ll let me be.”

Cumulus clapped her hands together. “That’s settled then! Your first day will be with Aurora tomorrow!”

“Hey!” Aurora exclaimed. “Why me?”

“You’re the worst fighter, dummy.”

Cirrus nodded. “She has a point.”

Aurora hissed, bearing her fangs at her friends. “Fine.” She humphed. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the gym, pipsqueak!” She said to you, her voice petulant and childish, but bearing no ill-will. “Get ready for me to kick your human ass!”

“Bring it on, psycho.” You challenged, laughing at her when she threw a middle finger at you.

Training with the Ghouls went about exactly well as you thought it would to begin with. You were like a fish out of water, fucking up at every turn and ending up on your ass more times than you could count. It took you a while to get used to the ebb and flow of how each of them fought - each one going for a completely different style and throwing you off centre the moment you changed Ghoul, but eventually you got the hang of it. And while you didn’t win many of the fights, you were still learning and would one day be able to apply all of this to whenever Dew got sick and tired of you pestering him. But you were still by no means ready to face him yet.

You couldn’t say exactly how long it took you to get the hang of life with the Ghouls, learning everything you could from them in order to keep yourself as safe as possible the next time Dew hunted you for gratification. But it wasn’t just fighting techniques that they put in your arsenal. It was knowledge, valuable demon-hunting information that would come in handy and subdue Dew - not hurt him… much. But, as Cumulus said, after the length of time he led you on for, he deserved at least a little pain. And the pervert would probably appreciate it, too. Silver was the main vantage point for you. In demonic form, anything silver would sting the Ghoul like an electric shock would sting a human. Enough to stun him yet not powerful enough to do any permanent damage.

Your plan was simple: lure him back out to the cabin, tie him to a chair and wait until sunrise. This time, you’d win. You were sure of it.

You caught Dew just after practice one day while he was making his way to the cafeteria for some much needed nourishment. He was so pleased to see you, welcoming you into a warm embrace and kissing the top of your head. “Hello, my love.” He said, his voice chipper and comforting. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“No, I have about thirty minutes to kill so I thought I’d come and surprise you.” You announced through a beaming smile of your own, except yours was hiding something slightly more sinister than it should be.

Dew, however, wasn’t dumb. He knew something had to be up with you because you rarely, if ever, did this. “What do you want?”

You feigned offense. “Can a man not visit his boyfriend without a little suspicion? Honestly…” Dew remained silent but continued to stare at you. You sighed. “I was hoping you thought on the whole ‘demon shifting’ thing. It’s been so long now - I just want a definitive yes or no at this point.”

“___.” Dew groaned, his annoyance present with the tone he used. “I asked for time.”

“Dew, you’ve had time. Two shifts to be exact. It’s not fair for you to leave me hanging on like this. Just one more chance is all I ask for. It’s going to be fine, I promise you.”

“You can’t promise that - you don’t know.”

“I do know. I know that even last time, while you were in demon form, I wasn’t physically injured in any capacity, not even by you. If I fail this time, then I promise to never ask again. You won’t hear a peep out of me about it. But we both really enjoyed that night, and I want us to enjoy it again. Please?”

Dew hesitated, lost in his own head about his answer. You could see that he wanted to say yes - you knew he wanted to. All those late night fucks based solely around those few hours proved that he did. But he was still scared, still very unsure of himself when it came to his shifting and your safety. You could see the cogs in his head turning, figuring out any kind of contingencies that would help him not hurt you. But eventually, he groaned, “Fine.” Clearly apprehensive about giving his consent but did so anyway. “But, you have to promise me that you’ll call for backup this time if you need it. I want your phone on you at all times. I’ll ask them to come running when you call, okay?”

“Yes!” You celebrated. “I promise!” You leaned forward and gave him a kiss, “Thank you!”

A week later, after everything had been sorted out, the hunt was on.

You were given a minute head start just the same as last time, and so, you decided to waste none of it. This time, you were actively trying to lure him back to the cabin given that now you had items there to help you win, which now you had to. The stakes weren’t the same now - now they were much, much higher. This time, yes, it was done for some lewd reasons, but Dew’s mental health was also on the line - as was his relationship with his shifted self. Tonight had to go your way - or who knew what could happen.

This time, you remembered about his heightened sense of smell. You remembered that he could track you no matter what you did or how well you hid from him, because your clothes were exactly the same. So, hiding wasn’t much of an option - running and leaving your scent on random walls and doors was, while actively trying to avoid touching anything that could give you away completely.

You’d already made your way down to the kitchens by the time Dew had the faintest idea where you’d be. You’d kept the kitchen’s door unlocked before this all began so you could have an easy and fast escape, so you’d quickly but quietly crept downstairs and snuck into the room. Just as empty as you thought it would be. With confident steps, you wandered over to the door and pressed down on the handle.

Locked.

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t supposed to be locked. You specifically remember running in after the last member of staff and unlocking the door again. So how could this be possible? You turned to where the key would usually sit and found it missing. In a panic, you began to search through the drawer of keys and frantically (and noisily) began your search. Your heart raced with each key that you pushed to the side, fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the handle and trying other keys in the lock that looked vaguely similar. But to no avail. The kitchen door key was missing - and you were the last one to touch it. Never mind surviving tonight, you wouldn’t survive tomorrow if Sister Imperator found out about this.

“Looking for this?”

Sharp chills ran down your spine at the sound of Dew’s voice, deep and hoarse from all the gowling he’d been doing back upstairs in his frustration over losing you. You turned quickly to find him standing there, a smug grin on his dark face exposing his white fangs to you. In his right hand, he held the key you were searching for, jingling as he shook it to emphasise his point. “I have to hand it to you,” he said tauntingly, teasingly, “You seem to be a lot more organised than last time. Trying your best, but it just isn’t good enough, is it, little one?”

“Go to Hell.” You hissed, pressing yourself into the corner of the counter and the door as Dew began taking small steps towards you.

“Been there, done that. Got the burns to prove it. Maybe I can take you there tonight, hm?”

He was incredibly close to you now, the door key only within a lose grasp. You looked at it once, then trained your eyes on his face, trying to make your plan not seem obvious. If you were fast enough, you could snatch it out of his hand, stun him, and be out of the kitchen door before he was able to recover.

“Maybe,” he continued, “I can burn you with Hellfire, too. Play a little game while you’re singing so beautifully for me.”

You stole a glance at the opposite door where Dew and yourself entered the room. Then you stole another.

Dew chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated in your ears and made your heart beat faster in fear. “I wouldn’t even think about it, my love. Do you really think you can reach that door with me boxing you in?”

“I don’t need that door.”

Before Dew had the chance to ask what you meant, you grabbed the key from his hands and, with all the strength you had in you, pushed him back a few feet, knocking him into the island counter and hitting his side. That would bruise in the morning. Because you were trying so hard to be faster, you were fumbling with the lock which wasted so much of that precious time you were hoping to save. But, eventually, you managed to unlock the door and throw it open so you could launch yourself out of it. You felt Dew’s hand on your arm, stopping you from leaving and tripping you up in your struggle to get away from him, making you land on the soft and freshly fallen snow. He was able to clamber on top of you, pinning you into the ground again, a sadistic smile on his lips.

“Gonna fuck all that fight out of you, you little shit!” He exclaimed as he started pressing all his weight onto your body.

You kept fighting him, your brain momentarily forgetting everything you’d learned with the other Ghouls, but once you recalled what you needed, you bucked your hips up, pushing him upwards over your body, wrapped your arms around his middle and flipped him off you, using that moment of brief bewilderment to make your escape. This time, you were successful.

“You cunt!” You heard him shout as you made your way through the snow-covered grounds and into the forest, determination and adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m gonna fucking get you. You better hope I never catch your sorry ass!”

It wasn’t long until you heard his footsteps crunching in the snow behind you, catching up to you just as quickly as he did the first night. But he only gained a great deal of distance when the cabin was in reach. With Dew almost immediately behind you, you threw the cabin door wide open, but never had the chance to close it again. Dew’s hand came in between the door and the frame, pushing it open further and sending you back into the centre of the room.

“Bringing us here again, hm? I’m not entirely convinced you’re as smart as you make out to be. Trapping yourself here with me a second time. You didn’t forget what I did to you, did you? How I took your body exactly how I wanted it.”

“Please don’t hurt me.” You pleaded with him, backing yourself up to the middle of the room and luring him further inside. You slowly made your way towards the chair that you’d already set up, trying not to make your plan too obvious. If Dew had figured you out, he didn’t say anything.

“Hurt you?” He laughed. “Oh my sweet, naive little boy. I’m not gonna hurt you - but I will make you scream.”

As he moved closer to you, he backed you up to the chair and grabbed hold of your wrist. “I’ll claim my prize now.” He told you, sitting onto the chair and pulling you onto his lap. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, given your monastic habit was still in the way, but he’d unknowingly pout himself right where you wanted him anyway, so you didn’t make any fuss at all. Letting him think that he’d won was perfect. He didn’t suspect a thing.

As quickly as your body could muster, you reached blow the chair and pulled out the chunky, silver chain that you’d stowed underneath it, realizing that the window of opportunity was closing more rapidly than you’d initially anticipated. The one hand of his that had been wrapped around your wrist was the first to be bound in the chain. He tried to buck you off him at the pain and escape imminent confinement, but you’d been much faster than him, and as pushing all of your weight onto his body, making it almost impossible for him to actually escape. Then, you wrapped the chain around the back bars of the chair a few times before turning your attention to his other hand.

Tying the second hand was a lot trickier than the first, because this time he’d regained a little more of his strength and was fighting back against you. He clawed at your skin, trying to get you to back off him and give him the chance to escape, but despite it all, somehow, you managed to get his second hand tied and secured behind the chair, like a prisoner detained by the mafia. He was secured, and the silver ensured he’d not be able to escape you.

You got off him and stood back, surveying your work and making sure everything was tight enough to keep him restrained, but lose enough that he wouldn’t be in constant pain, before heading to the cabin door, closing it, and locking it. Victory had sunk in, and your confidence had skyrocketed. “Maybe you should think twice about following people into cabins so far away from any help.” You taunted. The look on his face was incredible - he was livid.

“Let me go right now, or I swear to the Dark Lord himself I’ll personally rearrange your insides.” The hissed through gritted teeth.

The shift in power dynamics was enough to make your body come alive with excitement, the tension coiling in your stomach and sending blood rushing to your core. In that moment, looking at him helpless, angry, and a little afraid - you understood it. You saw why his demonic form liked tormenting you during these games. The power was going straight to your head and fuelling your desire to have your way with him, tied to that chair, helpless and practically begging for your touch.

You smiled, “I think I’ll claim my prize now.” You echoed his words from before, watching as his eyes widened when he realized your intentions.

He had never been in that position before: he’d never had to sit or lie there and take it. Usually he was the one dishing it out and it made him feel powerful, it made him feel Satan’s affections were justified because his strength was valuable. But now, he was tied with a silver chain to a chair, watching a mortal remove his habit and reveal his naked body, a naked body Dew loved to ravish, but usually as the party in charge. Despite all of this, he couldn’t help his cock growing at the sight of you climbing back onto his lap, your bare sex rubbing over his clothed length, getting him harder and more prepared for you by the second - and the prospect of you using him this time, of course. He closed his eyes and bit back his moan as you rutted against his centre, trying not to let it show just how good you were starting to make him feel - but it was obvious by the way he went completely silent, purposefully biting his lip just to make his point.

“Poor thing,” you teased, your tone taking on a condescending tone, “can’t do anything about it, can you? Have to sit there and take the humiliation of being bested and fucked by a human.” You chuckled and leaned forward, taking his ear between your teeth and biting gently. This allowed your bare shoulder to reach his mouth, which he took advantage of and bit down upon. It was a soft bite, around the same force he’d usually use when he was in his human form. Though, the sharpness of his fangs made a small trail of blood slip from the would, causing you to jump back. You looked at the wound before turning back to him, grasping his chin in your hand so that his chin was resting on the curve of your thumb as it swooped up to join the rest of your hand. “Am I going to have to gag you as well, or can we keep our fangs to ourselves?”

The power really was going to your head. There you were, condescending an ancient demon who could rip you in half with the same effort as a human would snap a toothpick, and yet the whole time you had a confidence befitting a colonizing Englishman - you were, in that moment, invincible. So what harm could it do to poke the bear a little more?

“When I get out of this-“

“You’ll be a human.” You interrupted, grinding down a little more against his erection. He bucked his hips but it only added to both of your pleasure, making him groan from the back of his throat. “You’ll enjoy this more if you stop fighting me.”

His bulge was ever prominent against your heat, and it dragged deliciously against that sweet spot that had you crying out loud. You lifted your hips just enough to slide your hand in between you both, cupping his cock and messaging over the uniform. “I think we should free the beast, hm? Do you want that?”

Dew didn’t answer, looking at you with total petulance.

You reached round and pulled on his hair, tugging it back and lifting his face to look directly at you, forcing his obsidian eyes to look directly into your own. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes… what?”

You saw the moment where he swallowed his pride for the sake of his pleasure, manifesting in a literal gulp. “Yes, I want you to… release me.”

“From these chains? No can do.”

He sighed, frustrated. “Take my fucking cock out and fuck me already.”

You laughed at him. “Not if you have that attitude.”

He began to fight against you and the chains again, clearly wanting to bend you over and show you what real domination looked like - but you’d tied it too strong, and using pure silver, too. He didn’t stand a chance. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

“I want you to beg for it. I want you to whimper and moan like a pathetic little bitch to his human partner about how much his cock aches for me. I want you to cry, and whine, and moan, and curse me for how good I make you feel, putting you in your place for the first time in however many centuries it’s been. I’ll only ask you once more - do you want me to fuck you?”

His voice came out as a whimper, exactly as you’d asked, but it certainly wasn’t intentional. When the tiny, “please” fell from his mouth, you sprang into action, pulling out his monstrous girth with both of your hands and grinning at the sight of him. Fuck, you missed it. You’d been dreaming about those ridges for weeks - months maybe. You needed to feel like you were being split in two again. You needed to bounce on that cock and take him for all your own pleasure.

You were almost clinical with the way you moved. There was no romance, no seductive show, nothing short of demeaning and… ironically dehumanising the way you spat on his cock. Three globs of spit that were smeared up and down his shaft, coating him to get him sloppy enough to sink down upon. When you wrapped both of your hands around his length and rubbed, you watched his entire body tense as though he was struggling to keep it together under the most intense torture. With the leftover spit, you plunged three of those fingers deep inside your heat, stretching yourself out to take him all.

You set a slow pace, infuriatingly slow, as you sank down on him. Taking in his head, then stopping and waiting. You never told Dew what you were waiting for, and so he would get more and more agitated the longer you waited. He tried rutting his hips up to bury himself inside you, but you pulled completely off him and forced him to settle back down. Eventually, he realized you were waiting for him to react: a whimper, a whine, a groan. Some kind of verbal acknowledgment to get you to sink down just a little further, to take ridge after ridge after ridge until you had sunk down completely, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing left to offer - up until the knot at least.

Dew was trying his hardest to hold back his moans, but you were gripping him so tightly, so deliciously, he couldn’t help but let them out. Ragged breathing and whining as though he were a wounded animal, but whatever he sounded like then, it was nothing compared to when you started bouncing on him. When his tip was hitting the very back spots, bruising you in the most delightful way.

“Look at you,” you cooed, “taking it all like a good boy.” You let out a particularly loud moan when his head hit the back of your walls. “Does it feel good? Do you feel so good deep inside me, hm?”

“F-feels - fuck - feels good!” He finally admitted, teeth clenched and growls decorating his speech.

He hated submission, hated being dominated by someone who the Hells would consider unworthy. But that was also half of the reason his cock was hard in the first place. He longed to touch you. To rest his hands on your hips and guide your bouncing. To run his hands all over your body without restraint and restriction. Every now and then, when the dull ache in his wrists had been smothered by the overwhelming pleasure your tightness was bestowing upon him, he would forget that he was bound and chained to the chair and would move his hands to rest upon your body, but would feel the sting of the silver and cry out in a startling mix of pain and pleasure. Yet there he was, fully and completely submitting to a human, of all creatures, taking pleasure in the chains that were once designed to burn him.

“You’re so fucked up for liking this.” You mocked, as you lifted your hips and kept them there, hearing his choked sobs as he tried to rut upwards, chasing your warmth like an addict. “What an adorable little slut you’ve become.”

You moved your own hand down to your bundle of nerves, touching yourself frenziedly in your desperation to cum around his cock. Your movements had become shallower, taking only the first third of his cock this time instead of hitting the tip of his knot, which had now swollen ready to plug you up at a moment’s notice. You had half a mind to ruin his orgasm, but come sunrise you were already in a world of hurt, you decided better of it. Perhaps you could save that for next time.

The closer you got to your own climax, the further back down his shaft you slid, preparing yourself once again for the extra burn of his knot when it finally popped inside of you. You continued to chip way at yourself, allowing him to take the lead when it came to his own cock, feeling him use the opportunity to rut desperately into you and hurtle towards his end, which would end up coming sooner rather than later.

As you came around him, your body shuddered and tightened, squeezing his girth and choking his head. Your free hand clutched onto his body for purchase, fingernails digging into his skin and leaving dark welts in their wake. That, combined with the throbbing from the chains, caused Dew to empty himself inside you with a deep, demonic growl you’d never heard from any of the Ghouls before. He bucked into you so hard, his knot stretched you more than it had the first time you took it, causing you to cry out at the piercing feeling. At that moment, you looked at his face: his eyes were shut tight, his muscles were tense and spasming, his face was contorted in beautiful agony as he painted your walls white. His orgasm, miles more powerful than your own, lasted what felt like forever, until his body relaxed and shattered breaths escaped his lungs.

When his knot had finally deflated, and you were free to climb off him, you dressed yourself in your habit and curled up on his lap, waiting for the orange hues of dawn to spill through the cabin window and make it easier for Dew to shift back. He’d passed out, exhausted from the strain and the torment you’d put him through, but deeply and completely satisfied. And so, in the quiet waiting of the sun’s arrival, you cuddled into his chest and allowed sleep to overtake you, only to be awoken again by Dew’s stirring.

The next time you opened your eyes, he was back in his human form, arms wrapped around your body where they’d fallen out of the chain. You’d forgotten that his human self was much smaller than his demonic self. You looked up at him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and yawning, feeling a twinge of pain in your back from the hours of bad posture.

You smiled at him. “I think I won that round.” You gloated triumphantly.

“I think you did, too.” He agreed. His tone was playful, but you could still feel that something was off.

“Did I overdo it?”

“Fuck no!” He exclaimed a little too quickly. “No, absolutely not. Human form or not, we’re doing that again.” You both laughed.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed and kissed your forehead. “I have a lot of training to do to control myself when I’ve shifted - especially for the next time we do this.”

You nodded. “I’m here every step of the way, Dew. I can handle that - I proved that last night.”

He smiled. “You did. Come on, we’d better rest before we head back.”

Previous Part ⛧ Realm of Souls Masterlist

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

84 notes · View notes

wisteriaiswriting · 1 year ago

Note

*barges into room unannounced* HELLO HELLO! Can I have cypher, Sova, Yoru, and Jett with a male reader who is short and looks scrawny but is actually really strong (stronger than them) thank you very much🥰

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

Words: 751

He has more lean muscle, meaning he’s often underestimated in strength.

But this won’t surprise him, as he’s been keeping tabs on you.

He’ll use this to his advantage. He just brought new technology, but if only someone could move it?

You’ll have to carry him around, he won’t let you go without doing it.

He isn’t the shortest agent so he can make jokes about your height.

***

While the monitors were great investments, Cypher didn’t think about the fact they had to be moved. Firstly to his room then up onto their stands, a task he couldn’t do alone. But there was someone who could help.

“Oh ثعلب الفنك!” He leaned through the doorway, looking into the agent's living area. Mask landing on you, “I need your help over here.”

Quickly you were over, no need to explain as he’s done this plenty of times. Leaning over to the boxes, lifting one into each arm. Walking all the way to his room, likely helping him with installing them as well.

***

ثعلب الفنك - Fennec fox

Has learnt to never underestimate anyone, you’re not an exception to that.

Please pick him up, the last time it happened was when he was a child.

It’ll scare him at the start but once he notices you’re fine he’ll melt. Continue holding him, feels great but looks funny for anyone else watching.

Soon enough he’ll start calling it your strength training, well aware you don't really need it.

Speaking of training, suddenly all your sessions are now joint ones with him.

***

For someone who was 6’2 he was surprisingly light, but that might just be you. And it probably was seeing as you have been carrying him around base for the past thirty minutes.

“Голубь, tomorrow we check your aim with my bow.”

“Doubting me Sasha?”

“Making sure you meet standards.” While you two spoke you missed the look on the others faces. You, who was decently shorter than this man, was so casually carrying him.

***

Голубь - Dove

It is a miracle if you’re shorter than this man, (I believe in 5’4 Yoru) so he takes it in stride.

From his height and lack of visible muscle people underestimate him, doesn’t mean he’ll do that same to you.

Your strength doesn’t stop him from teasing you, instead it causes him to do it more.

You could be an inch shorter and he’ll still pull the ‘holding something above you.’

Don’t pick him up though, unless you want to get hit.

***

Yoru was doing his thing until Phoenix came by and dragged him off. But he didn’t leave, not sure why. The walk around the base was filled with Phoenix’s talking while Yoru listened, after a while he stopped listening.

Following but zoned out, in turn he couldn’t hear you rushing up behind him. Until he was sweeped off his feet.

“Yoru!” You. You had come up and pulled him into a bridal carry. And with such a smug face, he wasn’t accepting it. Holding onto his comb before slamming it onto your head, causing you to drop him to hold your head.

“C’mon!” Your whining had him feeling bad, not that he would allow Phoenix to see that side of him.

“You picked him up? Why didn’t you show me earlier.” And back to normal, Phoenix guiding you away while talking your ear off. He’ll care for the injury later.

Again, it’s not often someone is shorter than her so she is taking full advantage of it.

Will use her updrafts to stay taller than you, often landing on something out of your range.

Randomly drops into your arms or onto your back. Forcing you to carry her around.

If you use weights, don’t let her find them please. She’ll try them but will drop them immediately, likely needing Sage after.

Will flirt a lot more than she used to, most revolving around your height, or lack of.

***

“Jett, get down.” She had managed to get onto the hanging kitchen cabinets. And you knew why, she would neither admit it or get down.

“You gotta catch me first, but can you reach?”

“I could if you came down here.”

“But that would ruin the game~” Her teasing only increased as you played her game, with only one way to end it. Kneeling on the counter to be able to reach her before grasping her ankle.

One quick tug had her tumbling down into your arms, her grin hidden behind her hands as it clicked how strong you were.

“Done?”

“For now.”

#valorant x reader #valorant x male reader #valorant sova x reader #sova x reader #sova x male reader #valorant cypher x reader #cypher x reader #cypher x male reader #valorant yoru x reader #yoru x reader #yoru x male reader #valorant jett x reader #jett x reader #jett x male reader #wisteria♥

89 notes · View notes

emry-stars-art · 2 years ago

Note

Massarati was a courting gift to andrew from abram after he realized they were courting one another

My face reading this omggggggg

(Gonna put this up top instead of at the end; find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕)

So this is the 4800 words of fluff; @jtl-fics was bouncing a LOT of ideas with me about it and everything was so sweet 😭🥰 you can read it here! :D or continue on this post for the sparknotes version from Abram's pov (minus the picnic date tho 👀), and let’s showcase my inexperience with horses ✨

THIS IS GREAT I done got myself a little by making Maserati a rescue case… like Abram’s probably right about what happened to her though I didn’t fully decide on it (I’m also making up everything about horse breeds in this universe thank youuu). He’s out one day for whatever reason and comes across this horse in no pasture that’s tall, clearly made for working, but it’s far too skinny. A little skiddish, but not enough that Abram can’t approach after a while of trying. It’s a familiar breed under the dirt and malnutrition.

He doesn’t even bother seeing where it might have come from. He fashions a makeshift lasso/bridle thing from rope and takes a few hours calming the horse enough to bring it back with him to the castle, leaving it in one of the smaller/less used stables with plenty of food and water before going to find Day or someone else that might be able to help. She doesn’t look impressive at first, obviously. But with lots of help and lots of time from Abram taken in secret to the stables, she slowly starts to get better. She gains weight, she gets readjusted to people, she lets him take care of her coat and hair.

At some point, Andrew insists once again on keeping Abram nearby when Abram is having a worse night than usual. Panicking easily, generally unwell. (Andrew is also wondering why Abram is suddenly spending so much time away, why he won’t tell Andrew where he’s been or what he’s doing. It’s completely in his right to do it, so Andrew never forces the issue, but it’s such an obvious switch from his normal behavior. Right when Andrew thought he could start leaning into the courting, it feels like Abram is pulling away and it hurts a little. He gets worried.) Abram can’t sleep, and Andrew won’t sleep until Abram does, so they lay on his bed with Andrew resting against Abram’s lap, relaxing or reading or tracing scars with his fingertips. It’s a long while before Abram asks, unprompted, “Did you ever have an ideal horse?”

Andrew gives him a look.

“I mean… a dream horse. Maybe when you were little, something you always wanted.”

Andrew makes a small noise. “I think most kids do.”

“Right. So did you?”

It takes more convincing than that, lots of Abram assuring Andrew that it’s not stupid, he’s just curious. He’ll tell Andrew his next. And finally Andrew tells Abram of when he was young, living with the Spears, and would fantasize about being anywhere else. He’d take a horse as black as night so no one would see him when he ran away, a horse that was strong and fast enough to take him wherever he wanted to go. He used to imagine it would carry two, so he could take his governess with him, but that was before she left. It was all child’s play, anyway. It didn’t matter now. (Abram’s horse wasn’t so detailed, but he said if he had to pick a coat color, he was very happy with the blue roan he was given.)

So the next time Abram goes to the stable he looks at her, sees how well she’s bulking up, sees again how much larger she is than the Friesians he’s used to from Evermore. She looks even stronger than those already capable horses. When she’s healthy she can certainly carry two riders and more besides, and her endurance is like the horse equivalent of his own. Her coat is getting shiny again, sleek like black oil.

When she’s healthy and ready, Abram trains her. He again has help, of course - there are people who’s jobs it is to take care of and train the castle’s horses and it isn’t him - but she has an undeniable soft spot for Abram. They get her used to being fully decked out in nice tack and equipment and whatever else. Abram holds her steady to get shoed. The veterinarians/au equivalent make sure she stays healthy and the stable master grows more impressed with her every day. She’s not your average horse, he tells Abram. She’s smart. There’s real intelligence in those eyes.

Abram could not be happier.

By the time the twins’ birthday comes around she is ready to go. Abram spends the morning before his work begins making sure she is as sparkling as he can get her, all ready for her favorite stable hand to take her to the main stables later while Abram attends the prince at the festivities. The stable hand is going to put her in her new tack, too, the beautiful white set Abram spent a good chunk of coin to have commissioned. The horse is perfectly well mannered around people now, though only Abram and a handful others can ride her. Abram only plans his evening because he knows she lets anyone ride alongside him - if Abram deems them worthy, the horse won’t protest. It isn’t trust he ever takes lightly. He’s pretty certain she’ll end up allowing Andrew every privilege she allows Abram. He is so excited and so, so nervous for that night. She’s as perfect as she could possibly be, but Andrew has gotten Abram so many wonderful gifts. This is the first time Abram has returned the favor with such intention. Hopefully it’s good enough. (She is.)

Oh also in case you’re wondering. Andrew only needs a new horse because his beloved GS was finally retired, GS is old and now gets to spend the rest of his days in nice pastures where Andrew feeds him lots of treats 💕 every like is one sugar cube gods bless

212 notes · View notes

that-left-turn · 23 days ago

Note

I find it odd that zabel clearly had a plan in mind for daryl's france arc before Melissa was joining, then that plan seemed to get switched to a caryl arc, then last minute, it got changed back to zabel's original's plan and they decided to make carol cockblock instead. What would be the reason to change it only to change it back again?

I'd find all of that a lot more convincing if it wasn't for Norman's acting... and the things norman said in interviews like "home takes on a new meaning for daryl." So, it seems like Norman had the carol cockblocking narrative in mind the whole time. But also there are scenes like Daryl being dismissive to Carol when they're leaving the nest and Carol saying "you loved her." Those are very anti caryl beats, but they were filmed, and Melissa was present for them both. Plus the Isabelle kiss, but who knows when that was filmed or who knew what about it.

Actually, on the isabelle kiss, it continues to be so strange that in episode 1, norman or the editing is noticeably playing down the original scripted beat "it's clear there are feelings", and then it's episode 2, and suddenly they're kissing out of nowhere with not the slightest bit of build up. And then after that, they're full in with "je t'aime" and Laurent saying Isabelle told him she loved Daryl. Also, based on interviews, Louis seems to have interpreted the canon story as pro darabelle and that caryl are "just best friends."

To be honest, based on the dramatic change between s1-2x01 and 2x02-2x06, I would interpret that when they filmed 2x01, they were still intending for a slower darabelle (and laurent) burn, but then something happened by 2x02 that made them realise they need to rush it if they want to tell that story at all. Making darabelle (and laurent) a slower burn would have helped the audience to find it more convincing, which was needed to sell it. So, since they couldn't do that anymore, bearing in mind the audience needs, they should have just abandoned it instead of rushing it. It would make sense to me that someone in power pitched this, and maybe that made way for a stronger caryl narrative (to find home is to find each other). But then somebody won back the darabelle narrative for whatever reason and they switched it back.

The thing that makes it more confusing is that they still had to have filmed all of those forced darabelle scenes and the scenes that felt dismissive of carol. So, if they did have a caryl narrative and it only got changed in post production, it's like they would have had to have filmed two different shows basically?? They did say they had to cut a LOT of scenes, but how did they have the budget to even film that many?

Please, bear with me because there's a long reply under the cut, explaining how the show is made and people who've read previous posts of mine would know some of this stuff already, but I hope it will help clear up misunderstandings.

A TV SHOW IS PRODUCED IN THREE STAGES

The story gets broken during pre-production. This is when the writers' room is at work. Zabel would've pitched his premise prior to that, but during this phase for S1, Melissa wouldn't have been a consideration at all. I think Zabel approached S1-2 as two blocks of a 12-episode arc; I'm not sure why, other than the setting, because it messed up the pacing. He might be out of practice, not used to short seasons and doesn't know how to plot something taking place in a confined period of time, who knows?

Regardless, when Melissa came back onboard, Zabel would've had to make room for Carol's arc, so he would've had had to go back to drafting during the production part of the cycle. You have to make adjustments to scripts on set, but normally there's no active writing during principal photography because you're focused on getting from page to screen.

THE SHOWRUNNER PROVIDES THE VISION AND THE VOICE

To judge by the picture of the 201 cover page that surfaced a good while back, there were several massive redrafts of that episode. Credit doesn't normally shift between people because you'd have to contribute at least 50% of new, original material for your name to appear as the writer. That tells me the studio wasn't happy with the season opener and that the final version of the script gave credit to a female writer is probably not a coincidence either. It suggests that either Carol's characterization or her screentime was off—AMC needed a strong start out the gate and they needed to push Carol's return.

The original draft of the script probably didn't have the 60-40 division in favor of Carol. Usually, the showrunner will write the premiere and/or the finale episodes of the season, so that it starts and finishes on the right note. If either isn't written by the showrunner, it's normally the Number Two, which in this case would be Richman, but neither of them got the final WGA credit for 201.

In other words, there wasn't a dramatic shift between 201 and 202. The S2 premiere just got rewritten until the studio felt comfortable that prescreening the episode at a number of events would draw a Carol-friendly audience rather than turn it off the show.

THERE'S ALWAYS UNUSED FOOTAGE

All six episodes were written by the time the show started shooting S2, but there's always more material shot than what ends up in the final, aired episode. That's normal and in post-production, you do end up cutting for time. (Especially, if on-set writing services added scenes to the episode.) Most likely Zabel wouldn't have known exactly how long each episode would be because AMC has a history of variable episode length for TWD, and he'd have had more material than he could use. Episodes also get edited based on changes in tone and arcs; sometimes a sequence just doesn't work the way you intended it to and you cut scenes (or partials) for clarity or pacing. You pick between a variety of angles, shots and inserts to provide the right visual cues for the story.

Pitching story ideas happens in pre-production, not later. The director might end up shooting different versions of the same scene, based on a change in line delivery or a piece of business. There's usually a conversation between actors and the director on how the latter wants any given scene to be played and an actor might offer a suggestion or ask a question, but there won't be changes to the dialogue or plot unless something isn't working and then that's the writer's domain. There's no communal decision over which creative direction to take, or whether to lean into a ship or not. The studio is top dog, then the showrunner and everybody else is free to have a personal preference, but it's not a democratic vote or a competition for someone to "win."

A FEW SMALLER POINTS:

I don't know what Louis has said in interviews and it doesn't matter because he's a child actor for hire with zero agency to influence the story and he would've been given talking points for those interviews.

No amount of slowburn would've sold Darabelle, not after Isabelle compared Daryl to his abusive father. She was set up from the start as a grifter and con artist, and wasn't meant to survive the arc regardless of Carol's return.

There were no je t'aimes, full or otherwise. Isabelle saying "I love you" (in English) comes after she's certain she won't make it out of the prison alive and she wants to make sure Daryl will still protect Laurent, even if she has to guilt him into it.

Any Caryl beats would look different depending on the context in the script. They aren't inherently pro or anti. If the connective tissue that redirects misinformation (such as in the case of an unreliable narrator) is cut, the story and its messaging changes.

There weren't two different versions of the story, just an excess of material, which can be edited to fit whichever way TPTB want to lean. A production's pattern budget is calculated with this in mind.

DARYL AS A POST-APOCALYPTIC CASANOVA

The Darabelle kiss should've been cut from the final version of the episode. It changes nothing regarding the story, which would have played out exactly the same way without it. It would've been more faithful to Daryl's loyalty, his honor code and his backstory of childhood abuse without a random makeout scene. Caryl's joint arc would also have felt less like an estranged couple where the wife pleads for the philandering husband to come home for the children's sake without Norman exploring Daryl's "young adult" urges.

It shouldn't be assumed that an actor would approve of the direction the showrunner chooses for the show during editing just because they were present for shooting a scene that showed the characters in some kind of conflict. Carol saying "you loved her" is a beat about Carol's insecurities and need for reassurance. It's not about Isabelle at all, or Daryl's feelings for her. Carol is unsure whether she matters to him, like she used to. Conflict is the driving force of any drama; that's how characters change and evolve. If beats where the audience gets insight into Caryl's emotional arc beyond Daryl's micro aggression and the liberal use of the interruption trope are cut from the final edit, the scenes can be viewed as "anti-Caryl" without Melissa having prior knowledge or given approval at the time of shooting, or afterwards.

I hope this helps clarifying the process. I know it's a long post and if you're still reading, thanks for sticking with me and happy 2025 🎊

#twd caryl #caryl #melissa mcbride #carol peletier #tv production

11 notes · View notes