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lunarmothim · 6 months ago

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safehouse - simon riley x reader.

You don't need to know how to read him to understand what you're seeing in his eyes, the dark edge of want that makes your breath catch in your throat. He must see it in yours too because he takes all of two seconds to roll his mask up to his nose, dipping his head to kiss you.

word count: 1.6k tags/warnings: smut my dudes. barely foreplay, just a quick crack of the pressure valve. afab reader. piv, brief oral (m receiving).

The safehouse is quiet. Dark and cold, the air conditioning unexpected after the wet, swampy humidity of the air outside. You won't complain, anywhere to lay your head and all. It's better than nothing.

"Exfil is twelve hours out," Ghost tells you, his voice a low growl as he drops his pack on the threadbare couch.

"Okay," you reply simply, dropping your own pack on the tiny kitchen island, digging out a couple of MREs. You toss one to him before hopping up to sit on the counter, ripping the package open with your teeth. Your canteen thuds onto the laminate beside you, half-empty. The first bite of the meal- chicken and dumplings, you think- is about as awful as you'd expected, and you can't help but make a face. You'll eat it anyway, but you won't enjoy it. You wonder what you'd given him.

Your eyes track over him, searching for injuries now that you have half a second to breathe. "You broken?"

"Solid," he answers, dropping onto the couch next to his pack. He doesn't look up at you, entirely focused on the brown packaging of the MRE you'd thrown his way. "You?"

"Solid," you echo, taking another bite. You hadn't been so sure there for a minute- things had gone tits up not long after you'd landed, your stealth infil clearly not as stealthy as you'd planned for. But you'd come out of it in one piece, mostly. Surprisingly. "They knew we were coming."

"They did." The empty package crackles slightly when he crumples it in one fist, eyes searching the room for a trash can. You almost envy him for the way he can inhale an MRE, like the taste of them doesn't bother him. "Problem for another day. We'll get outta here, regroup. Go from there."

"Hate this." You can't help the way your voice cracks slightly on the words, looking down into the package still in your hands. You don't feel so hungry anymore. "Konni always seems to be one step ahead of us. Like they're mockin' us."

"They are." Ghost says it so simply it makes you feel sick. You reach behind you to drop your MRE packet into the sink, unable to stomach it anymore. You hear his body shift, the creak of the floorboards followed by heavy footsteps, purposefully loud. He stops in front of you, and you inhale sharply when his gloved knuckles nudge under your jaw, tipping your head back until you meet his eyes. "We'll get 'em anyway."

"You sound so sure about that," you breathe, staring up at him. His eyes are dark, unreadable. As someone who wears your heart on your sleeve, you almost envy that about him. His ability to keep it close, to compartmentalize. "We haven't yet."

"But we will." His hand shifts, fingers curling around your jaw. His hold is loose, his eyes boring into yours. Calm. Sure. He sighs, and your eyes close when he tilts forward, resting his forehead against yours. It's the last thing you're expecting, but it feels nice. "We have to. Too much at stake if we don't."

"I know." Your hand curls around his wrist, fingers shaking. It's as close as either of you can get to a promise that everything will be okay.

You stay there like that for a long minute, just breathing each other in. Quiet reassurance. It's not enough, but it'll do for now.

He murmurs your name under his breath, fingers flexing around your jaw, and you open your eyes to meet his. He's staring right back at you, so close you can't tell if it's your heartbeat or his you can hear pounding in your ears. The edge of his skull plate digs into your forehead, indenting the bridge of your nose.

He clearly didn't think it through, though, the skull sewn to the balaclava bumping awkwardly into your nose.

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters, voice a low growl of annoyance that has you giggling. He reaches up, ripping the mask off his head without a second thought before coming back in to kiss you again. You don't expect it, but he doesn't give you a chance to think about it- not when he's singularly focused on yanking your tac pants down your legs, leaving them dangling around one ankle. Your left boot is gone, chucked somewhere across the room, and you can't help a gasp when he practically scruffs you, keeping your head exactly where he wants it while he devours your mouth.

If it's meant to distract you from his hand between your thighs he's not doing a very good job. You're very focused on his fingers, the perfunctory way they drag through slick folds, the barest hint of his thumb teasing against your clit. It's a promise of exactly what this is going to be- something quick and rough, a pressure valve in desperate need of cracking, driven by adrenaline and pent up energy. He's not going to take his time with you, he's not going to build you up and drag you over the edge, you might get one orgasm out of this if you're lucky. It's fine is a surprising thought to have, but you need this just as badly as he does, if you're honest, and if quick and dirty is all he's gonna give you, you'll take it without complaint.

You groan into his mouth, low and filthy, when his first finger slides in to the first knuckle, bucking into his hand. The second has you keening, thick and scissoring you apart in a way that has you wondering just what it is he's packing- it's still not much but it's more preparation than you're used to, thick digits working you open. He grunts at the sting of your teeth sinking into his neck, fingers crooking in a way that has your eyes rolling back, the fingers of his free hand tattooing his prints into your hip.

"That's it," he hisses into your throat, dragging a soft gasp out of you when he pulls his hand away, lining himself up at your entrance. His fingers press wet into your thigh, slick with your arousal, and you choke at the first prod of him, thick and hard and endless. "Good girl, good fuckin' girl-"

When he bottoms out you're sure you've died. That's the only explanation for how you feel right now, split open and so fuckin' full. He's pressed so deep you feel him in your throat, the vibrato of his voice rumbling against your shoulder when you drag your nails down his back. You're not entirely sure God is real but you pray to Her all the same when Ghost draws back and punches right back into you so hard it hurts.

"Fuck," you choke out, voice raw and broken, clutching at him like he's your only lifeline. He groans when your nails dig bloody crescents into his shoulders, a noise you swallow greedily when he finds your mouth again, the taste of tobacco and the MRE heavy on his tongue. You suck his lower lip between your teeth and revel in the way blunted fingernails bite into your ass cheek, dragging you closer. You think you hear the sound of the radio in the background, someone checking in, but you can't bring yourself to care right now, not when Ghost is splitting you in half around him.

"Not gonna last," he growls into your mouth, dragging a raw cry out of you when he drives into your cervix, painful and bruising. His hips stutter when you clench around him in response. "Fuck. Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good-"

"Gonna come for me?" you croak it out between ragged breaths, ruined by the way your voice pitches up. He shudders all the same. Your nails bite into his neck, digging in to the arc of your teeth impressed into his skin. Your eyes meet his, holding his half-lidded gaze, pupils blown wide. "C'mon, want you to come-"

You've barely tipped over yourself before he's ripping away from you. You can't help a startled yelp when he suddenly yanks you down off the counter, your knees slamming into the floor with enough force to bruise. He's quick to silence you with his cock- he doesn't seem to care much when you gag around him, burying himself to release down your throat.

Your palms hit the floor when he releases you, sucking in a ragged breath. You can still taste him, thick and salty, can feel the weight of him on your tongue. You look up at him, hazy through the sheen of tears in your eyes, and the way you see him looking back at you… fuck, you're not expecting that, his vulnerability on full display across his exposed face. Dark eyes peer down into yours, his mouth stretched into a thin line. Every scar is on display, the nose you've imagined buried between your thighs as crooked as you'd expected.

You want more. Fuck, you want more.

You know you won't get it. Not when the radio crackles again and he steps back, the metaphorical mask already back in place even while the physical one still sits on the counter behind you. This had been a one-off, pressure relief.

And you'll just have to be okay with that.

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune line divider by @/gildui

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #welllllll #hope you enjoy lol #ktwrites

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uglypastels · 10 months ago

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Your Logan fics have been great. I enjoy your style and how you write him. It’s so so good.

I had an idea while reading the brainwashed reader one:

Logan is on a mission to a bunker or lab or something for the X-men. Charles requested told him he had to go and help Scott. They go to this bunker and it ends up being a rescue for some mutants that were being experimented on and one of them once back at the mansion is having issues with controlling their power, and Charles asks Logan to help them. I picture the power being very volatile so Logan is there to help because he can take a hit and heal from it. Cause the reader is too scared to use the power on anyone and Charles told them he had the perfect teacher.

thank you so much!!

shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with the details of this thing. had a lot of fun, as always, writing this request, so please keep em coming yall.

warnings: implied PTSD. platonic teacher/student dynamic. fire. explosions. swearing. anxiety. lots of banter and fluff.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

It had been two weeks since you had moved into the Mansion. Moved in. That’s all that you could bring yourself to call it, doing your best to not think about anything up to the moment that you had been ushered inside the large building and given a room to stay in for as long as you pleased. It had taken at least three days for you to actually get out of there, to let yourself roam the halls freely, reminding yourself that it was safe.

For you, at least. No one would harm you here.

But not the same could be said about the rest.

You had never been fully capable of controlling your powers, feeling more like they controlled you instead. When you were held captive, it was them who held power over both. But now that you were free, it was time for things to change. That much had been clear from the second you set foot in the mansion.

Professor Xavier had given you permission to make use of the Danger Room to train as long as you were under the supervision of one of the faculty members—something that should have given you comfort but instead only formed more anxieties.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ you confessed.

‘You can’t do this on your own,’ the Professor smiled softly. ‘As with any skill, a fine mentor is the first step to succeeding.’

You weren’t sure about that, but also knew that alone, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere anyway.

‘Don’t worry,’ the Professor read your mind. ‘I have just the teacher for you.’

⮿

You had recognised Logan as the man who had helped you escape. Who held your hand and hadn’t let go until you stopped shaking. Who gave you soft reassuring smiles whenever you saw eachother across the corridors, reminding you that were alright here.

You knew he was a skilled fighter, but, truthfully, you had not expected him to be the one Professor Xavier assigned as your supervisor in this training endeavour.

‘Show me what you got, kid.’ He said as he took off his leather jacket, and you immediately wish he hadn’t.

‘It’s probably better to keep it on.’ You stated, wincing at his exposed skin. He looked up at you, taking a moment to comprehend what you meant until the nickel fell with recognition.

‘Right.’ He put the jacket back on and leaned against the wall as you watched him expectantly for further instructions. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘You know what I do.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

‘Explain it to me again.’ He shrugged.

‘Well… I set things on fire.’ The words came out apprehensively.

‘No. I said, explain it to me. Dumb it down like I was a five year old.’ This felt ironically hard to do as you felt like he knew more about your power at this moment than you ever had.

‘I don’t understand—’

‘To be able to control your abilities, you got to understand it.’ Logan clarified. ‘Know what it is that you’re actually doing and you’ll know what to do to keep it contained.’

Yeah, if put like that, it made sense. It also sounded far easier than it was. Understand it, and you’ll be able to control it. Sure. You thought for a moment, back to school and the damn chemistry classes you hated, but now suddenly started to feel rather useful. ‘I uhh… manipulate atoms, rearranging them with the air and heat around them to cause objects to catch a flame.’

‘That’s more like it.’ He praised, and even though it barely meant anything, you felt yourself smile at the kind words. ‘How much have you got it under control?’ But then the question and his inquisitive glare down at you made you feel very aware of your body and your mind.

‘With uhm— with enough concentration I mostly I target the right object, but once the fire is up, I can’t contain it.’ Which was the most important part. If uncontained, the fire would just spread, destroying everything in its way. That much you already knew. You still woke up screaming from the memories of the radiant flames and screaming all around you.

‘And, nothing personal, but I gotta ask, controlling the fire also falls under your division?’ He had crossed his arms.

‘Uhm…’ you didn’t know how to respond to that.

‘Only asking because we had this kid Jonny who could control fire, but he needed a spark to start it. Maybe you two are two sides of the same coin?’

‘No, I have managed it before. But never long. It would go up and down and up again, the way I wanted it to, but it was exhausting and then I couldn’t handle it and it would all go to shit.’ You started rambling, and just like the fires, you couldn’t get yourself to stop.

‘Alright, alright.’ Logan spoke calmly. ‘First thing we gotta do is work on you.’

You blinked slowly.

‘It’s all the same with you elemental kind. It’s all in your head. If you can’t get your emotions under control, then the fire will never go out.’

‘That… makes sense.’ You took a deep breath and thought of all things sweet and soft and calm.

‘Alright, I haven’t got all day.’ He clapped his hands, and you tried to not let the loud sound get to you.

Let the games begin.

⮿

A few weeks went by, and you wish you could have said you were making progress.

No, you had to be kinder to yourself. There was progress. It just wasn’t at the pace you had hoped to reach at this point. Logan had helped you with your targeting, and you could proudly say that you had reached an estimated 98% accuracy score. The larger objects you had no problem with, but the smaller and the further away things were, the more you seemed to struggle. Which was perfectly fine, Logan reminded you.

‘You expect to be able to hit a bullseye in the dark from a hundred yards away?’

‘I’m sure some people could,’ you mumbled, frustrated as you watched the wrong matchbox in the near line of 4 burn to a pile of ashes.

‘Beating yourself up about it is not gonna help you, kid.’ Logan said, already replacing the box with a new one. ‘Again.’

Knowing that complaining about his training methods would not help either, you simply squinted and focused on the third matchbox, doing your best to ignore the other ones lying around. They simply did not exist. All there was, was this one stupid matchbox— whoosh, and suddenly, the box was no more, just a pilar of blue flames. In your excitement at having finally hit your target, you had completely forgotten to keep the fire down.

‘Shit, shit, sorry.’ You did your best to suppress it, but it seemed like the fire was in a funny mood today and decided to do the exact opposite of your demands as it grew by the second until Logan had no choice but to drench it with a bucket of water.

⮿

‘Have you gone mad?’ You stared blankly up at Logan, who–much too confidently, in your opinion– positioned himself a few paces ahead of you. A cigar in hand.

‘It’s clear that you need some incentive.’

‘I don’t think your death wish can be called that.’ You protested. ‘I’m not doing it.’ ‘Yeah you are.’ He simply said. ‘I’m the teacher. I’m telling you to light the damn thing, so get on with it,’ he growled as he put the cigar between his teeth.

‘Actually insane.’ You said to yourself. ‘There is no way this is going to end well.’

‘Focus sweetheart.’ He did his best to look calm and composed, but you saw how his shoulders tensed as you prepared to do the task. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, but you just had to block it out. All of him had to cease to exist. All you saw was the tip of the cigar. The tiniest layer of tobacco, the–

You shrieked as Logan’s face disappeared behind a cloud of black smoke as the cylinder in his mouth exploded.

‘Oh my god, Logan!’ You ran to him, relieved as you heard him cough. With the smoke gone, you were happy to realise that it had only been the cigar that had exploded, leaving behind the tiniest but right where Logan had held it in his mouth. The rest of it combusted all around him. ‘Are you alright?’

His entire face was black with soot. You watched him wipe it off his eyes, blinking sporadically, clearly dazed from the explosion. You edged to repeat your question of concern, but before you had the chance to, Logan held a thumb up, spit the bud of the cigar out, and coughed out another thick cloud of smoke.

‘All’s good, bub.’ And you would have believed him if not for the fact he sounded like a cat that had just been suffocated, his burnt throat squeaking out the vibrations of his voice. ‘Let’s try—’ he was about to suggest another exorcise before he erupted in another coughing fit.

Easy to say you had called it a day after that.

⮿

‘Alright, easy now.’ Logan directed you.

‘I know what I’m doing, Lo.’ You retorted. All day long, he had been just non-stop talking, making it very hard for you to focus on the job at hand.

‘Do you?’ He quipped, making you glare back at him just long enough for the fire to double in size. You cursed as you held it back down—at least, that’s something you were able to do now.

‘You got to focus.’ He came over to you as you put the fire out completely.

‘Well, stop distracting me.’

‘That’s easy enough here, but what do you think out there’s gonna be like?’ He cocked his head at the walls, indicating the outside world, where indeed, there were distractions aplenty. ‘No one’s gonna give you time to do your breathing exercises in the real world, kid.’

‘Then why give them to me in the first place?’

‘I’m not the one you want to fight,’ was all he said in response. It had been months, and by now, he knew all there was to know about you in the learning environment. He knew how to push your buttons, fire you up and hose you back down. He could tell what you were thinking and it was infuriating that you could not figure out the same about him.

But, suppose that’s what made him the teacher and you the student.

‘Sorry,’ you sighed, letting yourself fall onto the ground, pulling your knees up to your chin. ‘It’s just so frustrating. We’ve been here for months and—’

‘And we’ll stay here for months more if that’s what you need to improve yourself.’ He squatted beside you. ‘You got this. No need to give up now. Or else my time here’s really been a waste, and I don’t take to that too kindly.’ He gave you that smile that once had only been reserved for quick passes in the hallway but now had become the favourite part of your nearly daily training sessions.

‘Sorry,’ you laughed.

‘Don’t be.’ He got up, extending his hand as leverage as you got back onto your feet as well. ‘Think you got one more in you for today?’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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kingkaizen · 6 months ago

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oh em gee I just came across your kashimo drabble and I am going FERAL..nobody ever writes for him 😔

by chance could you possibly write a smut with him involving...electrocution?

∘ a/n: i am lovinggg this kashimo request <3 thank you for letting me write this. this is alot more pwp then i initially wanted so defintely let me know if you want more smut HAHA enjoy anyways sweetie

∘ ft: kashimo

∘ includes: fingering, TENSION

The training room was quiet, shadows stretched long under the dim lights as the clock ticked past midnight. Despite the serene atmosphere, you felt anything but calm. Sparring on your own for awhile, you’ve been attempting to hone in your technique, training tirelessly as the minutes ticked by. It wasn’t like you to be this distracted, but your attention kept drifting to Kashimo, who leaned casually against the wall. He hasn’t said anything to you, only watching with a glint of amusement, as if he could hear your thoughts right at this moment.

Finally, with a dangerous smirk appearing on his lips, he made his way towards you. “You look like you need some help,” he said, voice low and edged. “Why don’t I show you some of my techniques? Maybe that will help you with your own practice, hm?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his comment. “You’re so full of yourself,” you turned to him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You stand there and stalk me, expecting me to ask you for your help as if you’re better than me or something.”

Kashimo raised an eyebrow, a small hint of a smirk creeping onto his face. “Well, that’s because I am.” He began, “I could easily see that from the way you move. You’re not all that confident with your ability, but that’s nothing some extra guidance can't fix.”

He moved closer, the air growing charged with an electricity that wasn’t just from his cursed technique. “I could show you,” he continued, his tone dropping as he held your gaze. “If you think you’re ready for it.”

Kashimo raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer. There was no going back once he started; you knew that. But the lure of understanding his power up close—and the way he was looking at you—made it hard to resist. Slowly, you stepped closer, and with a steadying breath, you gave him a nod.

He moved like lightning itself, fast and fluid, until he was right in front of you. His hand brushed over yours, and he leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. “Good,” he murmured, lifting your hand to press it flat against his chest. A tingling warmth pulsed beneath your fingertips, subtle at first, but as he increased the flow of his cursed energy, you felt the hum of electricity begin to build.

Kashimo slowly raises his cursed energy output, letting faint sparks dance across his skin as he watches your reaction. The tingling intensifies, a warm hum that becomes almost addictive as it spreads from your hand and up your arm. His voice is low, guiding you through it, sensing exactly how much you can handle without pushing you too far.

With one hand still holding yours, he trails the other along your back, letting his fingertips leave a charged path that makes your pulse race. “Still with me?” he whispers, a knowing edge in his tone. He’s testing you, pushing just enough to see how much you’ll take, how far you’re willing to go.

The air between you crackled, the faint scent of him mixing with the heat of your combined energy. Kashimo’s smirk shifted, no longer just teasing but something sharper, more focused. His hand lingered near yours, the faint hum of his cursed energy brushing against your skin like a whisper.

“You’re holding back,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Why?”

Your breath hitched, your pulse racing not from exertion but from the way his gaze bore into you. “I’m not,” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady, though the closeness between you made it a challenge.

Kashimo tilted his head, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes. “Liar,” he said simply, stepping closer. The space between you was nonexistent now, his energy buzzing like static against your skin. “I can feel it. You’re scared to let go.”

You bristled at his words, a flare of defiance sparking within you. “I’m not scared,” you said, though even to your ears, it sounded more like a dare than a denial.

He laughed softly, a low, rough sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Then prove it,” he challenged, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lifted, brushing against your jaw with surprising gentleness. “Or are you just all talk?”

The tension between you was suffocating, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Instead, you met his gaze, your heart pounding as you held your ground. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.

Kashimo grinned, leaning in until his face was mere inches from yours. “And yet,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your lips, “you haven’t moved.”

Time seemed to stop as his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. Before you could second-guess yourself—or the charged pull between you—you closed the distance.

Your lips met his, a collision of energy and heat that left no room for hesitation. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm but careful as he deepened the kiss. The hum of his cursed energy surged, mingling with yours in a way that made your entire body feel alive, every nerve alight.

Kashimo kissed like he fought—with intensity, precision, and an edge of unpredictability. It was electrifying, his cursed energy sparking faintly where his hands touched your skin. You responded in kind, matching his fervor as you pushed against him, unwilling to let him have the upper hand.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the charged air, Kashimo’s smirk returned, softer but no less confident. “Not bad,” he said, his voice rough, “but I hope you’ve got more than that.”

You rolled your eyes, though a grin tugged at your lips. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

Kashimo chuckled, the sound low and rumbling as his fingers brushed against your jawline, trailing heat wherever they touched. “Oh, I will,” he murmured, his voice dripping with confidence. His eyes searched yours for a moment, as if gauging just how far he could push you, how much you were willing to give.

Before you could respond, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with renewed fervor. The kiss was slower this time, deliberate, his cursed energy humming faintly against your skin, making your pulse race. His hand slid from your jaw to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The sensation was intoxicating, the electricity of his touch mingling with the heat building between you.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly, earning a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips left yours only to trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch felt like a jolt, his cursed energy sparking faintly as his fingers traced the curve of your waist.

“You’re full of surprises,” you muttered, your voice breathless as you tilted your head to give him better access. The words barely made it out before his teeth grazed your collarbone, the mix of pain and pleasure making your knees weak.

Kashimo pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk returning, more dangerous than ever. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he said, his voice rough, his cursed energy flaring for a brief moment, making the air around you buzz. His fingers trailed down your spine, leaving a charged path that had your body arching into his touch.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “But I think I’ve proved my point.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat when his hand slid lower, his touch firm yet teasing. The electricity between you felt almost tangible now, a steady hum that made it impossible to focus on anything but him.

“Kashimo,” you said, his name coming out as a breathless plea. He chuckled, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction as his lips found yours again, silencing any protest you might have had. The kiss was consuming, leaving you completely at his mercy as the charged air around you seemed to ignite.

Kashimo moved with calculated intensity, his cursed energy still humming beneath his skin, creating a subtle, crackling presence that heightened every touch. His hands cupped your face gently, his fingers brushing through your hair as if grounding himself in your warmth. His kiss was slow, possessive, dragging out the tension between you, leaving no room for hesitation.

You clung to him, your hands exploring his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself in the overwhelming wave of sensation. The electric hum of his energy surged through your veins, making your breath quicken, the intensity building with each passing second.

“Let go,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding, his lips brushing against your jawline. “Feel it. Feel everything.”

You gasped as his hands wandered lower, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping beneath your clothing. His touch was both firm and careful, his cursed energy radiating warmth that sent shivers down your spine.

“Please,” you whimpered, your voice hitching as he gently pulled you closer. “I can’t—”

But Kashimo silenced you with a deep, searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with possessiveness. His hand slid further, exploring every inch of your body, his touch demanding but never rough. The sparks of his energy felt like fire, creating an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and need.

“You can,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me take you.”

With each touch, his cursed energy surged, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain. You felt it—every jolt, every wave of heat and electricity—coursing through your body, making your senses spiral. The pressure between you was unbearable, and you could no longer hold back.

“I—” you started, but Kashimo placed a finger against your lips, silencing you once more.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “Let me.”

And with that, he pressed into you, slow at first, letting you adjust to the electrifying sensation of his cursed energy. Every movement was calculated, every touch gentle yet unwavering, as if he was savoring every moment. His lips returned to yours, the kiss growing deeper, hungrier, as his fingers moved within you.

The world faded away, leaving only the feel of his body against yours, the spark of his energy, and the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both. He was lost in your gummy walls, loving the way your body withered against him. You were lost in him, in the electrifying connection that tethered you together, unable to escape the pull of his power or the need that burned between you.

In that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader smut #kashimo smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #hajime kashimo #kashimo hajime smut #kashimo hajime x reader smut

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feroluce · 1 year ago

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“-and that's why I ain't allowed in Pier Point no more!” Boothill throws his head back and cackles, somehow completely comfortable on the bare floor of the archives. He's the very picture of ease, his arms behind his head, his legs bent and crossed.

Dan Heng barely looks up from his notebook, not much surprises him anymore after the first few tales of lawless exploits. “So they really have that many laws and restrictions there.”

“And prob’ly a few more now that I've been through there! Heck, ya think they named any after me? I'm hopin’ so.” There's so much smug cockiness seeping through his voice Dan Heng could bottle it.

Silence settles in, stretches out. Dan Heng doodles pensive circles in the corner of his page.

He shouldn't ask. It's a private matter. It's none of his business. He of all people should know-

Something pokes his shoe, and when he looks up, Boothill has stretched one arm up to tap metallic fingertips against his foot. “Ain't like ya to hesitate.” With his head tipped back on the tiles and gazing at him upside down, Boothill's hair is out of his face and spooling out all over the floor, offering a rare view of his right side. His right eye is sealed over with a pitch-black patch, stark against his skin. Dan Heng wonders what he looks like behind it. “C'mon, then, out with it. Spill the beans, brother, just say it.”

“What does ‘Boothill’ mean?”

The man blinks at him, the crosshair in his cybernetic left eye flickering. Dan Heng shifts, smooths out his long coat. “I tried to look it up once. It's not in any database as a name...other than your wanted posters.” There's a thread beginning to fray near the hem, he should sew it up. “I couldn't find it anywhere.”

He nearly takes it back, but- “Heh, ya that curious about me, darlin’?”

Dan Heng quickly levels his face into the most impassive, nonplussed expression he can muster, but Boothill has already turned away, head pillowed on his arms and face once again turned to the ceiling.

“But nah, ya wouldn't. Hah, like they'd allow any record of the language, fudgeheads.” One arm sweeps around blindly until it finds the edge of Boothill's hat, sets it back where it belongs on his head. Dan Heng shuffles around, scoots a little closer, but the brim is pulled too low to see his eyes anymore.

“It's ‘cause it's not a name. It's a noun.” All that's visible of his face is a sharp grin, pulled too tight at the edges.

“It's my people's word for a grave.”

Dan Heng's pencil stops.

“It's the kinda grave fer someone who died with their boots on. If ya catch my drift there.” Boothill's foot starts to bounce. “There was a war, and it got reeeeeal intense, yup. Folks started droppin’ like flies, ‘n’ there was bodies faster'n what we could bury ‘em.” A cooling fan kicks on somewhere. Dan Heng is pretty sure it's not any of the Express equipment.

“We lost some real good people there, real good. Mighty shame.” His hidden Vidyadhara ears detect a quiet metallic click, a whir, pressurized gas. Boothill's next words waft steam from his angry circuits into the air. “When I left, I decided to leave my name there, too. Didn't feel right otherwise. The life I lead now is a whole ‘nother existence.” And then Boothill turns his head, raises his hat, and Dan Heng suddenly feels pinned dead center, caught in that crosshair.

“Ya know what I mean, don'tcha?”

Dan Heng swallows.

Does Boothill know? Who he is and who came before him? There had been that moment in the Penacony Grand Theater, after he activated the Jade Abacus… Dan Heng had tried to shoo him out, keep him from seeing anything, but Boothill has the astounding ability to turn up exactly wherever people are trying to keep him away from.

If he did see, does he actually understand it? Does he know what a High Elder is? Does he know about the sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, the transmutation arcanum, everything Dan Feng had done and Dan Heng was punished for?

He doesn't want to explain it all. Not now. Possibly not ever, truth be told.

And it's not the same as Boothill leaving behind his old identity when whatever event happened that caused him to leave home. Not really. But…

But so far, Boothill has slid so easily into Dan Heng’s routine. His presence never feels like an intrusion. He's already figured out what he can push and when to back down. And even Dan Heng finds himself able to roll with whatever punches Boothill throws with baffling ease. They share too much in their methods and ideologies, and sometimes Dan Heng knows what Boothill will do seemingly before even Boothill himself knows.

“...Tell me about Talia and the Nailscrap Town.” Boothill must know he's avoiding the topic. He must. But the man just throws his head back and cackles, melting easily back into what they had been doing before, as he speaks fondly of a planet that Dan Heng has never visited.

Not today. But.

Dan Heng inches just a little closer, just enough to nudge his foot against a metal leg. Boothill doesn't pull away.

Maybe someday.

#honkai star rail #henghill #boothill #dan heng #hsr #bootheng #hsr boothill #hsr dan heng #BEHOLD. my brainrot #Aeragan-Epharshel and The Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae not as things they feel they have to tell each other #(bc what is most important is who they both are TODAY and what they are like NOW)#like they aren't maliciously hiding anything from each other and neither thinks so of the other #their pasts are just something they CAN share to deepen the bond and know each other better #things like Boothill better understanding why Dan Heng sleeps in a room lit 24/7 by electronics if he knows he grew up in a dark prison cell #or Dan Heng better understanding Boothill’s motivations & what kinda life he might want post-revenge if he knows how Aeragan-Epharshel was #I think it's only thanks to the Express Crew that Dan Heng can even begin to think about telling someone All Of That #he has people who love him and it has made such a huge huge difference for him ♡#meanwhile in in-game texts Boothill tends to gloss over the loss of his home. I don't think he's super keen to talk about it much either.#I let him say a little more about it here since he and Dan Heng had a lot more time together to get comfortable with each other in canon.#the thing with his eye is based off a voiceline of his but isn't canon from Hoyo or anything #but it's canon to ME #same with things like him having to literally let off steam when he gets pissed haha #I need to just make a post about all my weird robot body Boothill hcs I love cyborgs woohoo #that and him & Anger I have a lot of feelings about that too ♡#also. wireplay NZMZMXMMDDM

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goodolddumbbanana · 9 months ago

Note

"OH, YOU FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGE MY PRESENCE 💀"

NAME: Sunfall.

Dimension: Nice Nexus.

Status: Slowly being left behind by his Moon

Personality: Anxious, Sarcastic, Optimistic, Sorta Smart

Will he be afraid to kick somebody's 🐬🐬🐬? NOPE, HE KNOCK EM OUT ✨

@ask-nice-nexus-aus-sun Mod: also do we reblog to RP or use asks?

we can RP if you want ☺️

Sun: (*He smiled awkwardly, his hands fidgeting with each other, Sun's voice gradually getting smaller and smaller.*) Hi... It is kinda awkward... Aw boy... I am not good at this.... Ahhh... May I ask who you are?

SunBOT: Oh!!! HELLO NEW FRIEND!!! IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU!! We are so sorry that we have not seen you totally, it's not like you are so small!!! haha---- Ack! Aw fu---!!! (Still get his ass handed by Dark Sun)

(*Sunny nudged Sundrop, who was about to fall asleep on his feet, to wake up*)

Sunny: Sundrop? Do you know this Sun?

(*Sundrop let out a startled squeal, then looked around frantically before realizing there was nothing about to hurt him.*)

(*He signs a very annoying sign.*)

Sundrop: Why every time you guys see anything weird happens, the first person you guys ask is me, and not this Emo Lord over there?

(*Sunny said nothing, just silently pointed at the scene of Dark Sun is strangling SunBOT with passion.*)

Sundrop: Understandable.

(*He shrugs, then takes a good look at Sunfall*)

It is totally not proving anything, mind you. But this guy from... Hmn... Let see... Ah... He is from the dimensions when Nexus didn't suck?

(*Sun just immediately chokes, poor guy

His cough sounded like a boiling kettle.*)

Sundrop: Which is weird... Because 99% of Nexus if they didn't die, or gone crazy and also die in this process then they just become furry. And I haven't seen any furry Nexus since the Dark Age.

Cringe Sun: If you want to see a furry so bad, I can be a furry for you. In bed. Wink. Wink. 😏😏

Sundrop: You didn't not f🐬🐬🐬 say wink wink. Wait!! (* He shakes in fear*) Why can't I swear anymore? F🐬CK! Sh🐬t!!! MOTHER F🐬🐬🐬!!! YOU!!!!

(*turning back and pointing at Sunfall*)

What did you do to my ability to swear!!!

SunBOT (*lying on the ground, struggling with Dark Sun's feet pressing down on his back.*) I know what he did!!! HE IS THE WITCH!!!! AND HE IS CRUSING YOU!!!!

Sun:

Sunny:

Sundrop:

Dark Sun:

SunBOT: I am gonna stop talking right now.

Cringe Sun: Oh, look✨✨✨ drama at 6 a.m💅💅💅 lucky me (*sips more of his vodka*)

*Servant whispers with goose Sun from afar* If I know we will have this much sh🐬t just right on the morning, I would stay home.

Goose Sun: *Honk in approved*

#house of suns au #sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #sams sun #tsams dark sun

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hollow-lime-green · 9 months ago

Note

hi hana!! so i’ve been obsessed w this since string theory: can you tell us a little bit more about your interpretation of the six eyes? i know it’s said that satoru can see in thermal and infrared, is there anything else he can see?

Oh yeah! This is a fun question! I just got stuck in traffic for an hour (as a passenger), so I am going to over-explain this. And I'm bored so I'm going to highlight it with pretty colors like I'm writing in my diary or something.

Satoru's senses basically span the ✨entire energy spectrum✨, because the Six Eyes gives him the ability to work with all types of energy. He can see the EM spectrum (infrared, visible light, and ultraviolet), he can see thermal energy, he can sense (not exactly see) some other types of energy (electrical, sound, chemical), and he can see cursed energy like we do as JJK readers (plus some extra details like the taste, color, and texture of cursed energy).

I'm about to be insufferably STEM, so more under the cut:

Electromagnetic (EM) Spectrum

The EM spectrum has infrared light at low frequencies/high wavelengths, the visible light spectrum, and then UV at high frequencies/low wavelengths. Satoru is kind of like a mantis shrimp in that he sees way more colors than a human. He's got more rods and cones and stuff. (I like physics and chemistry, don't press me on the biology).

I don't really go into the UV part that much, but I like to think that would contribute to his sunlight sensitivity! He's not an outside pet.

The blindfold blocks out the EM spectrum because the fabric blocks the transmission of visible light in the form of photons, packets of light energy. (this is a secret tool that will help us later)

Electrical Energy

I haven't really gone into electrical much either, but like he can see the flow of cursed energy, he'd be able to sense the flow of electrical energy, i.e. the movement of electrons. It gives him good circuit sense.

Sound Energy

Sound energy is vibrations* (another tool that will help us later). He doesn't really see them per se, because even the thought of him actually seeing the vibrations in the air is overwhelming, and it would block his vision so much that I don't think it makes sense for the Six Eyes

I think he would feel them with the Six Eyes kind of like a gentle breeze. It makes him ultra perceptive, but it's still another form of feedback for him to deal with.

This is why I make Satoru so terrible with enclosed spaces. If you can see those forms of energy, you're seeing not only the original instance where they're emitted, but also every secondary instance when things reflect or refract. So sound bouncing around in a train, for instance, is completely overwhelming to the Six Eyes if he's not able to use jujutsu to filter it, which I think is a skill he wouldn't master until maybe his mid 20s.

Thermal Energy

Now this is the fun one.

The Six Eyes gives Satoru the ability to see and sense the energy in things in its various forms, because he can convert it all to cursed energy, or back. So, when you think of thermal energy, you probably think of thermal cameras, which represent thermal energy in the color spectrum, which kind of looks like light.

But thermal energy is very much not light - it's actually motion. Specifically, it is atomic vibrations. The more energy something has, the more it vibrates, and that is actually the basis for what we call 'heat' or 'temperature'.

If you go deep into the philosophy of temperature, it's all a sham. It's the way we choose to interpret and understand a phenomenon we can't really see (atomic vibration) translated into something we can measure (but our scales are all relative and kind of fake. I'm looking at you, Rankine!). But that's a conversation for my very Serbian thermodynamics professor. Existential doubt really flows better in a Slavic accent.

Anyway, remember photons? Okay, so, heat and sound are not light, right, they are vibration. So instead of quantifying them as light packets, we quantify them as vibration packets, which are called phonons. I reference phonons a lot in the fic, but probably not in a way where I have appreciably explained anything about them well to non-STEM girlies.

If you think about photons/photon emission as throwing a ball of magical light at something, you can think of phonons as throwing a slinky at someone. (Which I wouldn't recommend, actually. Slinkies are remarkably difficult to throw.)

Cursed Energy

Okay this one is a gimme but obviously I have to list it. In the JJK animanga, we the reader see the cursed energy auras/flames around people, but it's understood that those are not actually seen in-universe, at least for non-Six Eyes. It's kind of dumb, but it also kind of makes sense pragmatically. If all sorcerers could see cursed energy, then it really ruins surprise elements, residual coverup, and general battle mechanics. Of course, some sorcerers are known to cover up their cursed energy, but if all of the powerful baddies did that then it wouldn't look as cool. It's whatever.

Also, the whole 'training to suppress your cursed energy release' is a hard sell if we also say that literally any sorcerer can see CE. So this is why Suguru isn't aware of when he's leaking CE. He can't see it, and then he also can't really taste/smell it because people go noseblind to their own scent.

In FIYM, Satoru is the only one that can see see it. The rest of them can still sense it, but they sense it by smell, taste, and most importantly, vibes.

Thesis: Why Energy is Gay

Okay so yes I did this to answer the question "what does Satoru see through the blindfold". But I also did this to make it gay gay homosexual. (In the grand tradition of JJK)

Touch Sensitivity

Because Satoru is sensitive to kinetic energy, living things are incredibly potent to him from a sensory perspective. People are made of energy - particularly thermal energy, chemical energy (although this is potential energy which we haven't touched on but I do reference it here and there), sound, and, of course, cursed energy.

When Satoru touches people, he feels all of the vibrational energy from those kinetic energy sources as well as the cursed energy, which to him has textures on top of the vibes, colors, and smell/taste. So of course it's overwhelming. Every touch is combined with vibration, which is very gay, and would take a long time to get used to, even if he never formed the habit of using Infinity to cut himself off from the world.

In FIYM, it's not only a fear/safety/vulnerability thing, it's also a necessary filtration step that he uses for the world. Part of this is because I kept him in Kyoto/the clan setting in his backstory for a long time, so he would have had less sound and population density to deal with. Tokyo would have been super overwhelming for him.

Information Filtering

Speaking of filtering, there are two ways for Satoru to cut down on the amount of information his senses are getting.

One is to block them, which is what he does with the blindfold (blocks photons) and Infinity (blocks phonons). Gay, tsundere, and hot.

The other is to flood or mask his senses, which is what happens when Suguru infuses the blindfold with cursed energy. It's not that Satoru can't see anything, it's that all he can see is the cursed energy, and it blocks out his ability to sense anything else because of how strong and close it is. This is meant to be a direct analog to the phenomenon of detector/sensor saturation, which is to say that a detector has hit its limit of how much it can read/measure/detect, and so everything else is lost.

When Suguru flares his cursed energy, he's doing a baby version of that. He's flooding Satoru's detector (The Six Eyes) with his cursed energy (which is easy on the eyes, for Satoru) and that inhibits his ability to sense the other pesky things. And it makes him feel better.

Physics is gay, physics can be so gay. Greg's biggest sin was not capitalizing on how gay the physics can be. Any day now we'll get an announcement for his next project, a gloomy isekai titled: Transported To a Dark Academia Yaoi Battle School And I Fall For My Physics Tutor?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the over-explanation, thank you for the ask, I love getting the chance to ramble about some of the science. :)

#satosugu #jjk fanfic #fire in your mouth #jjk #2sorcs #ask #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu theorycrafting #physics #just lots of actual physics #jjk worldbuilding

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anonymousewrites · 10 months ago

Text

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter Fourteen

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter Fourteen: I’m Not Big on the God Thing

Summary: It's time to face Michael and the war for godhood.

(Y/N) stood in front of Em, Noa, Olive, Leon, and Marcel. All of them wore serious expressions. Behind (Y/N), the sun of the day of the election rose in the sky. It cast long shadows across the terrace, which only stretched longer with (Y/N)’s movements.

“That’s the situation. An election that’s going to become a war,” said (Y/N). “I’m not going to lie to any of you. It’s going to be dangerous. Michael won’t hold back. He’s shown how far he’s willing to go to become God. If anyone doesn’t want to risk their lives, I won’t blame them. We’re young. We’re not even adults. But I am going to fight. I have to. I can’t sit around and let Michael have a larger chance of winning by not facing him myself. I owe it to all of you and everyone else in the world to do the right thing.”

They swallowed. “So? What do you say?”

“I’m with you,” said Em. “You’ve known that from the start. I have your back, Birdie.”

(Y/N) smiled at her and then looked at the others.

“You’re an idiot,” said Noa. “I mean, you’re one of the most powerful people we know, but you’re an idiot.”

“Of course we’re going to go with you,” said Olive, smiling. “We’re fighting with you to the end.”

“Even if there are risks, we understand what is at stake,” said Leon. “And we have to stand up for what’s right.”

“We’re not abandoning you now,” said Marcel. “We’re your friends.”

“And we’re your Four Horsemen,” said Noa.

“We have the ability to fight, and we will,” said Leon.

“Michael isn’t winning on our watch,” said Olive firmly.

“We’ve got your back, (Y/N),” said Marcel. “You’ve never had to worry about that.”

(Y/N) found themself smiling despite all the fears and worries circling in their head. “I’m glad I have you guys.”

Marcel put his hand out. “We’re in this together.”

“Together,” seconded Olive, putting her hand on top of his.

“Together.” Leon added their hand.

“Together,” said Noa, placing their hand in the pile.

“Together,” said Em, adding her hand.

(Y/N) smiled. “Together.”

As soon as their hand touched all the rest, the shadows coiled up and around them. The Four Horsemen felt the magic that had stirred within them rise to the surface once more. Em felt their demon face shift beneath the surface of their human one.

They were ready.

“So?” said Lucifer as (Y/N) walked up to him.

They nodded. “They’re fighting with us.”

Lucifer sighed. “I’m proud of how brave you’ve grown, but I’m exhausted with how headstrong you are.”

“You know I can’t sit this out,” said (Y/N). “I can’t.”

“I know.” Lucifer looked at them. “I just—I don’t want you hurt. I love you too much for that.” He hugged them. “I can’t lose you. I can’t, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) hugged him back. “I know, Dad. I love you, too.” And I can’t lose you either. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop that from happening.

Lucifer, Chloe, (Y/N), Em, and the Four Horsemen walked towards the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. The sun hung in the sky over them, and the air felt tense with the knowledge that a world-changing event was about to take place—today, a new God would come into power.

“You ready, Birdie?” said Em, touching (Y/N)’s hand.

They linked their pinkie finger with hers. “I’m with my family. I can face anything.”

Em smiled at (Y/N), lifted their hand, and kissed the back.

“Are all angels drama queens?” said Noa. “A helluva place to hold the vote.”

“Michael is definitely one for dramatics,” said Lucifer.

“I think it runs in the family,” said (Y/N).

Olive smiled. “Knowing you, yeah.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting them come,” said Chloe to Lucifer.

“He didn’t really let us. He’s just not our boss,” said Marcel.

“(Y/N) is,” added Leon.

“I’m not anyone’s boss,” said (Y/N).

“Antichrist meet Four Horsemen,” said Em brightly.

Lucifer gestured to the teenagers while looking exasperatedly at Chloe. “See what I deal with?”

“I’m not looking forward to Trixie’s teenage years,” she said. That being said, she was impressed with the bravery the teenagers showed in facing Michael.

Flap! Amenadiel appeared.

“Where’s Maze?” asked Lucifer. “And our reinforcements?”

“Well, it’s taking a bit longer than expected,” said Amenadiel.

Lucifer groaned. “Right. Well, we’ll just have to stall.”

“Luckily we’re good at talking,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

“Let’s go,” said Lucifer, squaring his shoulders.

He stepped down into the light of the coliseum. The seats on either side of him, he walked down like it was a runway. (Y/N) followed, and the rest of the group trailed after them. (Y/N) didn’t cower at the sight of the dozens of angels gazing at them. They all wore their heavenly robes, a stark contrast to the human clothing donned by (Y/N)’s group.

(Y/N) raised their chin as the eyes of the angels landed on them. Their friends remained strong as well, not bowing at all at the sight of the Celestials.

“This really is a family affair, isn’t it?” remarked Lucifer, putting on his trademark charisma as they walked forward.

“You actually showed up,” said Michael. “Look at that.” He wore black and some strange shoulder armor, an obvious effort to seem tougher despite the nasty scar across his face—evidence that a teenager beat him in a fight. “You ready to bend the knee, brother?”

“Even if he was, I’m not,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms. “And my friends aren’t, either.” They glanced back. “Right?”

The Four Horsemen grinned widely. “Right!”

“As if you have any choice here,” scoffed Michael.

“Actually, since I’m a Celestial, I get a vote,” said (Y/N). “And my dear friends here, the Four Horsemen—” a few murmurs went up nervously “—get votes too.” (Y/N)’s friends waved.

“Fine,” said Michael, rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything anyway. You don’t have enough votes.” He looked at the gathered group. “Why do you have to fight the inevitable?”

“It’s the only way we know how to fight,” said Lucifer coolly. “And I demand a vote.”

“Seriously?” Michael laughed derisively. “Even if it’s obvious?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer.

“Alright, fine.” Michael decided to humor Lucifer. “Fine! Who here is not voting for me?” He looked around, and several angels looked at the ground guiltily. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, and a few angels they’d seen before glanced at once another. “I said, is anyone here not voting for me?”

“What a speech,” said (Y/N) sarcastically. They were stalling and hoping to turn some of the angels Lucifer had spoken with to their side. “Let me guess, you’ve made it clear the consequences of not voting for you?” They sighed performatively. “Using fear for power. You’re so unoriginal.”

“As if an ex-human has any idea what they’re speaking of,” said Michael condescendingly.

Want to bet? (Y/N) resisted saying that aloud and instead just raised their chin. They looked at the angels and glanced at Lucifer.

He gestured forward. “Go ahead.” He knew they were dying for a chance to show up Michael.

“Okay, people,” said (Y/N), clapping their hands together. “You’re angels, right? All about truth and justice and all of that nonsense that you fail to uphold anyways.” The angels scowled and whispered. “So let’s deal in some real truths. You don’t want Lucifer at God. Sure, fine, whatever.” They shrugged. “But you also don’t want Michael. And I know why. It’s because you’re afraid of him. He only knows how to deal in fear. I mean, he even put together the Flaming Sword for what was supposed to be a democratic election. Because he only knows fear and he only knows threats. And what type of God would someone like that make?”

The angels shifted, and Lucifer smirked proudly at (Y/N)’s ability to really cut to the point and cut someone down to size.

“My Dad isn’t going to rule through fear,” said (Y/N). “I mean, I’m not big on the God thing anyways and this whole issue, but I trust Lucifer. He’s taken care of me for over almost six years. He loves Earth and helps people. He tells the truth. He makes mistakes and learns from them. He accepts other people’s perspectives. That would make him a better God than Michael.” They looked out at the group. “From what I’ve heard, everything else I have to say has been passed around you guys, so I’m done. Try to think for once.”

What an end… thought (Y/N)’s friends after they ended with an insult. At least they never compromised who they were.

“(Y/N) is right,” said Lucifer. “I want for their to be truth here, not threats.” He took a deep breath, smiled at (Y/N), and looked back at the Celestials. “I’m going to tell you the real reason I want to be God. I—”

“I know why Lucifer wants the throne.” Zadkiel spoke, and his voice made everyone turned in surprise. “He told me. And it’s for love, of all things.” He chuckled, and the angels laughed. “I never thought I’d hear it. Love.” He stepped forward. “The best reason one could have.” He walked past Michael and to Lucifer and (Y/N)’s side. “We need a God with love.”

(Y/N) glanced in surprise at Zadkiel as he spoke the words they had to him barely a few days ago. “Vote for a God with love. That’s all I want. That’s what I’d do, if I was in charge.”

“Who’s with us?” said Zadkiel.

The angels glanced at one another. Hesitantly, Saraqael stepped forward. Another angel followed her. It wasn’t a large number—Michael still had most of the support—but (Y/N) could see most of the angels still next to Michael shifting nervously. Their assessment of “fear” had been correct.

“Not a lot,” murmured Leon.

“Worth it for the annoyance on Michael’s face,” said Olive with a smile.

“Agreed,” said Marcel.

“I think a few others are on the edge, too,” said Noa. “Too scared to move.”

“I really don’t like Michael,” grumbled Em.

“Hey, it looks like we’ll get a chance to hand his ass to him in a fight like we wanted,” said (Y/N).

Zadkiel looked at Lucifer and Amenadiel in confusion, and poor Lucifer just sighed. He wished his father was still around to pray to that (Y/N) wouldn’t rush into a fight.

“Well, looks like we have the numbers,” said Michael, putting another self-important smile on his face. “Consider the vote complete and me…” He grinned and through his hands up into the air. “God!” He proclaimed the word and looked in the sky as if some sort of lightning strike was supposed to show his power.

Nothing. (Y/N) smirked and snickered with their friends. (Listen, teenagers had too much fun laughing at stupidity to stop now).

“God!” repeated Michael.

Still nothing. (Y/N) and their friends had to smother their giggles.

“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Michael. “I thought there’d be a little some-some, a flash of lightning, maybe, unless…”

I called it, thought (Y/N).

“I-I thought Dad said we were choosing,” said Michael.

“Technically, he said, ‘you’ll figure it out,’ but you weren’t really there to say ‘bye,’ were you?” said (Y/N), pouting before rolling their eyes.

“(Y/N),” said Chloe, trying to get them to be quiet.

“Maybe it has to be unanimous,” wondered Gabriel.

“Right. Right.” Michael chuckled lowly and looked at his opponents. “Well, if it has to be unanimous, there’s only one way to make that happen. Get rid of all opposing votes.”

“So he’s justifying killing family just like that?” said Noa. “Yikes.”

“We really can’t let him win,” said Marcel.

“I don’t want such a God,” said Leon.

“Not at all,” said Olive.

“Where is Maze?” grumbled Em, looking around.

“Any minute now, I’m sure of it,” said Amenadiel.

“What are we gonna do?” said Chloe.

“Lucifer!” A sudden shout cut across the field. All heads went to the side of the coliseum where Maze stood.

She wore an outfit of red, a true Queen of Hell. Eve stood next to her—(Y/N) wasn’t displeased to see her for once—and a group of possessed humans (demons) were with them. Maze shouted orders in Lilim, the demonic language, and the sound reverberated around the coliseum. She led her troops up behind (Y/N) and Lucifer, evening the numbers out.

“Very cute,” sneered Michael. “A little demon army. But you still don’t stand a chance.” Around him, a few angels floated into the air. Michael grinned at Lucifer. “You might want to ask the little kiddies and your girlfriend to leave, or they’re gonna get hurt.”

“I was just gonna say the same thing to you.” Chloe pulled out her gun.

Michael chuckled. “Your bullets can’t hurt me.”

Bang! Bang!

Chloe shot the winds of the two flying angels. They both cried out and fell. The angels gasped.

“Turns out melting down one demon blade makes a lot of bullets,” said Chloe.

“So, you see, brother, we’re more evenly matched than you anticipated,” said Lucifer. “Now, I know you want to avoid bloodshed amongst our siblings, as do I. So why don’t we just, shed each other’s?”

“What, mano-a-mano?” said Michael. “Or ala-a-ala? That means wing-to-wing in Latin—”

“Got it, yes, thank you,” said Lucifer, rolling his eyes.

“Dad,” said (Y/N) warily. They didn’t trust Michael.

“I win, Godhood is mine,” said Lucifer. (Y/N) didn’t like the idea at all. “You win, you have my full support, and I’ll crawl back to Hell like a good little Devil.”

“Dad,” hissed (Y/N), and Lucifer glanced at them as if to say “I can do this.”

“When I win, you won’t be crawling anywhere,” said Michael. He withdrew a familiar sword. Azrael’s blade. “This is to do the death.”

“So be it,” said Lucifer.

“No,” said (Y/N).

Michael sneered at them as he lit the sword, and the flames of the morning sun flew up around it. “Oh, yes.”

“You’ll never have my vote,” said (Y/N). “No matter what you do.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to make certain you can’t vote—”

Wham!

Lucifer punched Michael the moment he threatened his child.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

@snowy-violet

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ewingstan · 1 year ago

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9-11 for whatever Worm characters come to mind! (Or Sophia/Calvert/Taylor/Krouse if you have any thoughts!)

Fuck it. All of em for all of em.

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Sophia: I'll be real I don't feel super strongly about her. She's written to be hateable in an effective way, but she's less of a full character than Emma despite being in much more of the story. And her shit kinda gets bogged down by racist writing (a lot of the worst of it happening right before Aisha's introduction, which is also pretty racist). She's involved in a lot of cool and interesting moments but they're rarely interesting because of her.

Coil: Works really well as the first overarching villain in Taylor's story. He's able to sell the "I'm a bad guy but in an excusable way that's not really too bad" well enough, but also has a lot of obvious red flags even before the Dinah reveal. So you can understand perfectly well why Taylor, a kid who really wanted to continue hanging out with the undersiders and do things that made her feel like she had any control, would go along with him. But you can also take a step back and say Jesus, only a kid who really wanted to continue hanging out with the undersiders and do things that made her feel like she had any control would go along with him.

Taylor: Wildbow has a reoccurring tendency to focus on characters who are both incredibly smart and can get an incredible amount of info quickly, but only in specific limited ways. Its true of Taylor, Lisa, Sylvester, Kenzie, Mia—a lot of my favorites. But the interesting thing is that they're never smart in the same ways, never collect the same sort of info. Lisa has general super-induction but no great skill at making plans. Sylvester can read and manipulate people to a superhuman level but is constantly getting blinded by his own resentments and desires. Taylor's hyper-vigilance gave her the ability to see and react to everything external around her, but no means or real incentive to know whats going on internally with people around her. And it makes sense! She's incredibly afraid of letting people in who'll end up hurting her; people who've genuinely been kind to her in the past have used their previous closeness to hurt her later! Knowing that someone doesn't mean her harm now isn't gonna reassure her, so its safer to assume everyone's a threat and not worry too much about what they're actually thinking.

And then there's Rachel, who she not only connects with emotionally, but is the only person who's able to make an emotional connection with her! And since you understand why its not the norm, its all the more incredible to see!

Krouse: oh I'm glad you asked

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Sophia: I like that she and Lung both get wrapped back up in the end for Skitter's Gold Morning missions. I wish she got to do more in those, but I do like it as a story beat.

Coil: How high he got and how far he fell.

Taylor: Man the escape from Coil's trap is a fucking great chapter. She's a one-woman horror movie. Single-handedly sells her as a villain who'd get national attention, and its not even a moment the public knows about. And its in such a great place in the story too, where all the tricks she's using have been established so its not feeling like a weird escalation in her abilities, but she hasn't all employed them at once or to such incredible effect yet. It’s the real culmination of her taking “lessons” from Bakuda about being scary.

Krouse: One of the moments that really sold me on him was when he was getting attacked by Case 53s, and immediately started thinking about how he could take them down, before he interrupts his own thoughts to go "wait, what am I doing, I should just run away." It just sells so much of his whole deal. He's a great on-his-feat thinker, he can be an incredible strategist when he's on his own, but he also doesn't share Taylor's suicidal urge to face any problem head-on. Its kind of the inverse of one of Taylor's early establishing moments: after getting attacked by Rachel, she reaches for a reason to calm down, realizes she doesn't have one, and immediately retaliates hard enough to get blood on her boots. God they're such good foils, its weird that the extent of their relationship is mutually disliking each other. Not even intense dislike in either case.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Sophia: That the black member of the trio is the one that consistently gets physically violent, is characterized as the athletic one compared to the others in general (instead of "the cute one" or "the prep" she's "the track star"), gets described as being savage multiple times, doesn't have much of a character outside of sucking despite being in a work that's otherwise really good at giving internality to people who act shitty, all that jazz.

Coil: How little sense we got of what Calvert's dominion would really look like. That we didn't get much of his takeover without other disasters interfering actually works—it fits the themes of constant conflict interfering with stability and safety. But I still want more of a sense of what Calvert wanted.

Taylor: I didn't care about her reunification with her mom. I say a lot that the ending of Worm is one of the best endings of any story I've read, and that's true of Gold Morning as a whole, but I don't actually care much about the last epilogue. The Brian reveal certainly doesn't help there.

Krouse: Do you know how much it sucks that when people ask me who my favorite worm character is, the tumblr sexyman is in contention?

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Sophia: any story that takes her basic parts, gets rid of the obviously shitty stuff, and develops her into a real character.

Coil: Disney Channel sitcom

Taylor: Well I already tried expy-ing Khepri into my tabletop campaign, and that got mixed results, so I'll take TTRPGs off the list. I'd be interested in her getting put in a medium where you'd have to be creative with how to represent the bug cloud, like live theater.

Krouse: I was gonna say Mob Psycho but then I remembered that they already had a guy who teleported around being a jackass. But I would like too see a well-animated version of his fighting style.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Sophia: I'll Make You Sorry by Screaming Females

Coil: For some reason I get an Everything Everything vibe from him? Maybe Photoshop Handsome or Breadwinner.

Taylor: I don't actually read her as trans but Dysphoria Hoodie is what immediately came to mind. I'm at least theoretically still making a Cicada Days animatic about her. I think portions of BCNR's Sunglasses fits with whats going on internally with her in the Mannequin fight

Krouse: Want to make a Prowl Great Cain AMV for him one day. Lyrics fit perfectly, and the way its sung gets the same otherwise inexpressable intensity of how I feel about him. Darnielle said “This is a song about betrayal. A lot of songs about betrayal are about betrayal and redemption. Not this one.” And yeah, that's Krouse!

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Sophia: Oh, no

Coil: It would prolly be fine except for how he'd torture a branch of my psychological continuity and then effectively kill it by destroying that reality whenever I leave the dishes out too long. Don't correct me on how his powers work

Taylor: Uhhh probably not. Even if I wasn't much older, I don't really talk to my roommates unless they're the talkative sort. She's been stuck living with clamshells before, it wasn't good for her.

Krouse: I'd have to kill him

10 and 11: alright these are "could you be best friends with" and "would you date" and in both cases the fact that I'm 23 means no. I don't have Blake's ability to form rich friendships with people much younger than me. And I'm not interested in Calvert as a friend or a lover.

#sophia hess #thomas calvert #taylor hebert #francis krouse #wildbow #parahumans #wormblr #mals reads worm #mals says #ask game

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minniethemoocherda · 5 months ago

Text

Clean This Slate

A/N: This fic shows how Mirage and Hound first met in in my Jazzprowl fic Iridescent, but you don't have to read any of that to understand this fic! Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

Mirage hated parties.

He'd hated them in the Towers. And that hadn't changed since joining the Autobots.

But for some reason Jazz was insistent on dragging him along to this one.

Mirage had no idea why it was so important for him to show his face at the high-grade fuelled debauchery that the Autobots called a party. Especially since Jazz hadn't even made a fuss when Mirage had told him he'd only come if he could spend the entire time standing invisible in the corner.

But Jazz was the only bot he could class as a friend in the entire army. And Mirage didn't want to scare him off like he had with every other Autobot on base. He couldn't blame the others for not trusting him, what with his outlier ability and low-level aristocracy. Those traits hadn't made him very popular in the Towers. So it shouldn't bother him that mechs still didn't like him now.

"Hey!"

Mirage startled at the sound, turning to his right to see a mech staring straight at him, despite his invisibility.

He was even more surprised when the mech then placed his hand over his spark and bowed his head in an awkward attempt at a traditional Towers greeting.

Now Mirage hadn't known every bot in the Towers personally but he'd known of most of them. And he did not recognise the dark green grounder in front of him. With his broader frame type and the way he didn't seem bothered by the layer of grime covering his prominent chassis, he didn't look like a traditional Towers mech either.

But someone on this base had to uphold a standard of manners so Mirage didn't say any of that aloud and instead turned off his invisibility to return the greeting.

"Was worried I got that wrong." The green mech said with a low chuckle. Unlike the snickers Mirage sometimes heard behind his back or when the others thought he wasn't in the room, the sound of laughter felt warm to his audials.

"You did not." It has not been perfect but again, Mirage decided not to mention that. It had been so long since he had been on the receiving end of such a greeting. And whilst his feelings on his former home grew more complicated with every cycle that passed since their destruction, he felt an unexpected sense of comfort at the sight.

"I used to be a groundskeeper before… well y'know.. for the Towers gardens." The mech said, answering Mirage's earlier unspoken question.

That would also explain why Mirage didn't recognise him, even if the revelation couldn't help but make Mirage feel guilty. He hadn't known the names of many of the servants that had worked in his old home. Not that he had been permitted to talk to any of them. And the older he got, the fewer his house had hired as his sire's poor financial decisions caught up to them. Mirage hoped this mech had not once been a groundskeeper for his house. He knew his sire would not have treated him well. Not that many of the other houses would have treated the mech much better.

"You must have been very skilled." Mirage stated politely.

The mech shrugged.

"Ah the crystals did all the hard work! I just gave 'em a little nudge."

Mirage had spent enough time around liars to know when someone was hiding behind politeness. And this mech with how he blushed and rubbed his neck definitely was not. He truly was that humble.

"Still, the gardens always looked so beautifully crafted."

It was true. With the crystals soft glow and slight chime, the gardens had been the one place in that pit-hole that Mirage had actually felt at peace.

Apparently not knowing what to do with the compliment, the mech changed the subject.

"Here, brought yer another cube."

Mirage glanced down at the empty cube of energon in his hands, which as a physical object, wouldn't have been affected by his outlier ability. It must have been how the mech had spotted him. A detail like that would be difficult to see in such a crowd. The mech was sharper than he looked.

"Thank you, that was very kind." Mirage told him, taking the cube.

Again, the mech seemed surprised at the praise.

"Ah it's nothin'!" He waved his now empty. "Besides, I was lookin' for an excuse to come talk to yer for a while now."

"Oh?" Mirage inquired, wondering if now would be the time the mech finally dropped his act and revealed their deserved hatred against his aristocracy.

"Yeah I hate to see anyone lookin' loney! And sometimes it was hard to see you at all. So Jazz said I should come say hello."

"Did he?" Mirage turned his attention to the crowd were Jazz was predictably in the middle of. The dance that was currently unfolding looked far too intricate and intimate to be happening in the middle of the rec-room. From the centre of the over-charged circle, the blue of Jazz's visor flashed in a wink. Despite the fact Jazz wasn't obviously looking in his direction, Mirage knew that it was meant for him.

"Well, us Spec Ops gotta look out for each other eh?" The green mech shrugged.

Ah, that would explain the mech's observation skills. Or at least would explain the reason why he had been selected to join Spec-Ops in the first place. It would also Jazz felt he had the right to meddle into both of their affairs.

"Sorry, realised I forgot to introduce myself." The mech said, with a self deprecating smack to his helm. "Name's Hound."

"Mirage." The noble replied, the drop his former title starting to feel lighter upon his lips.

The corners of the green mech's mouth turned into a grin. It would have been unbecoming on an old Towers mech but Mirage thought the sight complimented the sun kissed crinkles in the corner of the mech's optics.

"Lookin' forward to working with yer." Hound smiled.

Mirage found his usual emptily polite candor give way to a rare genuine smile.

"Likewise."

#transformers #mirage #transformers mirage #hound #transformers hound #jazz #transformers jazz #hound x mirage #miragehound #houndmirage #transformers generation one #transformers g1 #g1 #iridescent

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08melancholie · 6 months ago

Text

Honeysuckle and Whiskey. — Micah Bell/OC

CHAPTER 14 — Plagued.

words: 4,460 | AO3 LINK — MASTERLIST

Sat at one of the tables on the edge of camp are Micah and Melody; a plate of Pearson's usual stew in front of each person. Melody is constantly shuffling food around her plate, not even eating. Micah's noticed how weird she's been acting since two weeks ago when she went out of her way to save Arthur from Colm O'Driscoll himself, and he's had enough of ignoring it like everyone else has been attempting to.

"Okay, spill it." Micah breaks up the silence between them, putting his spoon down.

"Huh?" Melody looks up from her plate and to Micah. "Spill what?"

Micah crosses his arms over his chest, cocking his head a little to the left. "I ain't no fool—you been acting differently. What is it?"

Melody sighs as she looks back down and just continues shuffling her food around her plate. "I dunno... I just.. been feeling weird since I was Colm again. Just odd all over." She explains to her best ability.

"Odd how? You.. miss 'em or somethin'?" Micah asks cautiously, suddenly disturbed by Melody's silence that follows after his question. The woman bites her lip, staring into her plate of food. "Oh, Jesus Christ-" Micah pipes up, instantly scowling at her as he picks his plate up and rises from his seat, which makes Melody look up from her plate.

"I don't know, okay?" Melody says, to keep him at the table.

Carefully, Micah sits back down and drops his plate. "You should be able to know that." He replies, his blonde brows furrowed. His gaze drops into his lap with a sigh, running a hand down his face.

Melody can't help biting her lip again momentarily. "You don't get it," She mumbles, letting her spoon drop into the bowl of uneaten stew. "its not like I want this, okay, Micah?" She adds. "I'm just as disturbed and disgusted." Both people go silent for a moment, and Micah is first to break it.

"Listen," Micah says, his blue eyes back on Melody's somber face. "didn't wanna upset'cha. Its.. hard, hearin' that knowin' how far you've come." He states.

Melody shakes her head slightly. "So don't be upset with me, please." She begs quietly. "I have it hard myself as is. I need to.. figure this out, and I need your support more than anyone else's, okay? Please."

Micah swallows a huge lump in his throat, exhaling a long breath out. "Right, I understand," He mumbled under his breath, his expression softening. "you'll always have my support, Melody."

"And that's all I ask for." She adds, her head hanging low now, pointed at her lap, silently for a moment until she speaks once more. "I hate to argue with you, and we seem to be doing it much more often.." She comments meekly. "Camp has been havin' some weird energy on it's own these past few days, everyone seems a little on-edge."

"I noticed too," Micah responds just as quietly, leaning over the table slightly, arms on top of the wood. "and I hate it just as much as 'ya do. Never ends well." He adds.

Melody nods her head quietly, scratching under her jawline for a second. "So let's tone it down, then." She says with a minimal smile, looking up at him through her lashes with her head still low.

Micah grins back at her, nodding himself. "Y'know, you're right; camp's got this weird ass energy 'round it." He agrees with the cowgirl, standing up from his seat once more. "Maybe the dealbreaker is getting outta it, together, for a bit." Micah proposes.

The woman goes quiet for a moment and nods very slowly. "Maybe it is." Melody swallows a nervous lump in her throat, watching him stand.

The grin on Micah's face just about doubles and he chuckles, as well as picks her dishes up for her. "We'll have to test that tonight, I suppose." He says, looking down at Melody with a softer smile. "Put something nice on." With the last comment, he suddenly leaves—while Melody short-circuits.

"I don't know! He just said to dress nice!" Melody repeats to Karen as they work on sewing a few holes into the freshly dried laundry Miss Grimshaw has brought them. "And then he took my plate and actually washed it for me. No. Shit!"

Karen starts to giggle, not even looking at where her needle is landing. "No shit indeed, Melody Mühl; big, scary ole Micah Bell has just asked you out, and is taking you somewhere fancy." She states with another laugh, finding it all too hilarious. "Just so you know, I'm telling all the girls."

"Just don't let him find out it was me who talked." Melody responds, waving her off with her left hand. "I dunno why.. but I'm slightly nervous. Been thinking of it all day."

"Wanna know why?" Karen asks, and Melody nods silently. "You want him, you dingus. Why else would you be nervous? It's just a man."

Melody laughs, partially at her and partially the mere idea of that. "Oh, yeah. I'm deeply in love with that asshole."

Karen cocks her head down and raises an eyebrow. "I'm serious. I'm more experienced; trust me on this, or find out the hard way tonight and embarrass yourself in front of him."

"You're reading into it too much." Melody states, taking her warning with very minimal seriousness. "Me and Micah.. that isn't—can't—be anything, simple as is." She adds.

"And why's that?" Karen questions.

Melody furrows her brows for a moment. "Micah; willingly get with a random foreign girl he's known barely five months? You are hilarious, Karen Jones."

The blonde scoffs at her, resting the needle and thread in her hands down. "So why is he willingly spending so much time with you—asking you to go places with him? Huh?"

Karen states a good point, which leaves Melody silent for a moment. "That.. doesn't matter. We can be friends, but a couple? That just can't be."

"Hey, I warned you. You have fun with your little gunslinger tonight, and meet me after to let me know how wrong you were; and how right I was." Karen says confidently.

"Psh, alright." Melody scoffs and rolls her eyes, not believing a word that the woman says to her.

Back in Melody's tent, things are already pretty hectic; what does she have that's nice enough to wear? The dress from that poker game is already sold, so that's out of the picture... She doesn't have the time to go into town, get a dress and bring it back without people seeing it and questioning the occasion. She sighs as she looks over the many different articles of clothing all around her floor, laid out as she tries to muster something pretty up. A soft knock on her tent startles her, and she quickly turns, just to see it's only Abigail. "Oh. Hey, miss Roberts." Melody greets, sighing as she turns her head back down to the clothes on the tent floor.

"What a mess.. what're you doing? Fashion show?" Abigail asks bluntly, looking over the clothing articles with Melody.

Melody laughs, deciding that Karen's probably going to tell the girls everything anyways. "No, I'm.. going out. Need something nice, but... I sort-of lack good, fancy clothing." She explains.

The woman crouches down and looks over the outfit laid out exactly before them. "Out with?" Abigail asks curiously.

"..Micah." She mumbles under her breath, and Abigail quickly spins her head around and up at Melody.

"Micah?! Micah Bell?!" She asks, shocked, to which Melody shushes her. "No—don't 'shush' me, miss Mühl. What are you thinking, going out with that.. that man?" Abigail scolds the girl, who gives a sheepish look down at the floor.

Melody sighs and crouches next to her, taking the skirt in Abigail's hand. "I know none of you are so fond of him.. but I am." She reasons. "He isn't so bad, to me at least."

"It ain't about that, miss. I'll tell you this once; Micah doesn't stick around." Abigail states, her wording and the meaning behind it very obvious, rising back up and straightening herself. "We'll all warn you once, but if you don't listen... it'll be on you and you alone."

Melody nods slowly. "I know that," She stands up with the outfit, draping it over herself and looking at the reflection in the mirror. "and I understand it completely. I won't be coming to any of you if I get hurt; I never have." She reminds her, having been hurt by Micah already—but that's the past now. "Now, will you please help me a little? I.. I don't know what I'm doing." She sighs, looking from the glass mirror to the other woman.

Abigail, hands on her hips and head tilted down, sighs. "Alright, alright.. But we're looking in my closet, not... this." She gestures to the abundance of different clothing articles around the room.

"You're right about that," Melody gives a brief chuckle as she exits her tent behind Abigail, following the woman.

Outside, while walking over to where Abigail kept her clothes, she spots Micah across the camp, in his natural habitat—leaned up against a tree in camp with some gun oil on a rag, wiping his gun down. His eyes lift to meet Melody's, her face shining with a sickeningly wide grin to which Abigail just scoffs and drags her away by the arm. "You're a lost cause."

Melody's perplexed facial expression stares back at her in the mirrors reflection, eyeing the attire chosen by Abigail, then looks to the woman with that same expression. "Red is definitely your color, and this is the only red thing I've got; take it or leave it." Abigail says, to which Melody looks back to her outfit; a white blouse, a little fancy yet modest, some frills at the end of the sleeves of her florence shirt. The skirts picked out by Abigail from the limited amount of clothes she had, was floor-length and, of course, red; accompanied by a corset underneath just to look nice, which was actually Melody's own one. Abigail got up behind her, holding a red ribbon in her hands. "Let me put this on your braid. Hold still.." She murmurs, taking the braid on Melody's shoulder and tying the bow around the elastic hand at the end of it. "There."

Melody looks at herself once more, putting her braid over her shoulder again and giving the mirror and Abigail a three-sixty turn. "Well, this might be it."

"Might be?" Abigail repeats. "Dear, this is it; neither of us got anything else to offer." Abigail laughs slightly, watching Melody twirl around. "So you like it, then?"

The girl nods, turning to face Abigail. "Yes, I love it. Thank you massively, miss Roberts." She replies.

Melody took the outfit back to her tent while Micah was out doing something with Dutch, got a few things done and by the early evening, found herself in that same outfit once more, standing before her mirror and inspecting the outfit all over once more. For some reason, she felt as though it needed to be perfect, even if it was just an outing with a friend of hers; with Micah, of all of them. A quick pep talk from Karen later, she found herself waiting outside camp, next to Baylock while petting the steed of the man slowly approaching. Micah stops and takes Melody in from behind, tracing her entire form up and down.

"Looking like a doll in a toy shop, let me tell 'ya." He speaks up, making Melody turn around, looking him up and down now.

"What a charmer." She replies. "Guess you ain't too bad either." She adds, looking at his clothing choice; he wore the top of his old suit she saw on her mission, but recolored black with white intends, probably having gone to change it when he randomly left camp for Saint Denis earlier today. He also had black dress pants on, but kept his usual shoes and spurs. It was pretty 'Micah' of him to, anyways. He kept his belt and guns under the suit jacket, of course.

Micah laughs slightly, taking another few steps forward to stand in front of her. "I'm only telling you what I think, Melody, and I think this is the best you've looked since that poker party." He compliments, and it sounds so sincere, Melody's heart jumps over a beat entirely, biting her lip. "Left hand on the Bible I've never read."

"Sure," She replies with a small chuckle. "I'll trust that."

He rolls his eyes slightly. "C'mon, I've got a reservation ready." Micah gestures to Baylock, getting up on the saddle and extending his hand out.

"A reservation?" Melody repeats, taking his hand and letting him hoist her up behind himself on the saddle.

"Indeed;" Micah nods almost proudly of himself. "in Saint Denis."

"Well, look at you. Really taking this night seriously, huh?" Melody adds a little teasingly, but lightheartedly, placing her hands on his shoulders.

Micah gives a playfully offended scoff. "Why wouldn't I, sweetheart? Not often do I do this—so I'mma do it right."

Melody chuckles, placing her chin on his shoulder next to her hand. "Ain't that somethin', huh.." They set out towards Saint Denis with some small talk on the way, mostly of which is Melody trying to guess where Micah is taking her, and trying to be annoying enough for him to give in and tell her where he's going.

He stopped Baylock before a small restaurant in Saint Denis, that was rated pretty well by the few locals he had stopped and asked the opinions of. His other choice was a bar, but he felt that that would have been expected of him, so he went for the second, more surprising choice. And, that also backfired on him, once a worker outside of the restaurant stopped him from entering.

"What'dya mean, closed? I was here today, and things were all set." Micah asks the waiter that stopped the pair of outlaws, saying they couldn't enter because of a sudden rat infestation inside the kitchen, which lead to it's sudden closing for the entire next month, probably.

"We're very sorry, sir," The waited apologises profusely to Micah for the fifth time. "it happened just a few minutes ago, we didn't know!" He adds, looking back at the entrance for a moment—to the sound of yelling and hitting, probably the staff trying to kill off the pests inside. "Perhaps a.. refund?" He offers, looking at Micah again.

The cowboy scoffs. "Damn well a refund," He repeats after the worker firmly. "don't even think about letting us outta here without one."

The waiter nods and scrambles to open the door and slip back inside the restaurant. "R-right, one moment.."

He scurries off, and Micah sighs, looking to Melody. She watches his expression go from pissed to apologetic to her now. "Hey.. don't let this get to you." She murmurs, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's unbelievable.. just our luck." Micah grumbles as his head falls low, pissed, followed by another sigh. He looks up at Melody again. "I really.. wanted to do something special. Maybe.. a small apology for causing a good.. eighty percent of our recent arguments." He explains, a small frown on his face.

"I get that, and I'm real thankful, even just for the idea and invitation, Micah." She reassures him, smiling at him to try and get him to follow up with one of his own.

However, Micah's frown doesn't budge, and he runs a hand through his—for once—well-groomed hair. "I'm real sorry, Melody."

"Hey, no; don't apologise to me. I get it." She says, still trying to show him it was all just fine, and that she wasn't nearly as upset as he thought. "...How about I try and fix this?" She proposes.

"Uh.. how? Gonna get rid of them rats in there or somethin'?" He raises an eyebrow at her.

Melody chuckles a little. "No," She replies, taking his hand and leading him back towards Baylock. "let me find us something else entirely."

"I guess.. better than moping around here." He follows her, squeezing her hand.

"You're a smart woman."

"I'm aware."

Melody guided Micah out of Saint Denis and back towards camp, but took a turn into a nice forest-y part outside of camp, close enough to know where it still is but far enough for nobody to know, of course. "Somehow, even such simple things become easily enjoyable with you." Micah states, picking around the can of food in his hand. "I mean—camping out just a few miles out of camp? I would have found that stupid," He says. "—usually."

Across from him is, of course, Melody; eating her food as well, with only the small campfire between them separating them. "I know that much. Remember when we had to camp out because of that ambush? While getting loans for Herr Strauss?" Melody reminds him.

"All too well." Micah chuckles.

"You wouldn't even touch the blanket I offered you."

"And then you invited me into your little tent, how sweet of 'ya." Micah coos a little mockingly.

Melody rolls her eyes, pointing her knife at Micah playfully. "Eat your peaches, asshole." She chuckles.

"Gonna let me lay next to 'ya tonight too, I bet." Micah adds onto his tease.

"I best let you sleep on the grass, hope for some wolves to find you." Melody quips back, continuing to eat her food.

Micah acts hurt, placing his can of fruit down and standing up towards their little makeshift tent. "You break my heart."

Melody follows after him, giggling briefly. "I bet I do." She responds, getting down onto their shared bedroll next to him, and they lay down with their backs facing each other. "Night, now. I want to get back to camp as fast as possible tomorrow; before the girls assume I slept with you." She jokes.

Micah lets out a gruff laugh. "I think they'll assume so either way." He replies. "Good night, Melody."

By the next morning, and when Melody wakes up, she feels much warmer than in the night, due to the morning sun shining right into the small tent in which she and Micah slept—and because Micah has his hand around her, and because she's got most of her upper body on top of him. Well. She lifts her head up with a small grumble, just to see Micah lighting a cigarette, throwing the match out and taking a drag, before looking down at her. "Well, mornin' there, girl."

Melody lifts a hand off his chest to rub at her sleepy eyes. "The hell.. how'd I end up like this?" She asks in a tired, and slightly accusatory tone, squinting up at Micah.

"You accusin' me of somethin'? Think I put you on top of me?" He chuckles, flicking some of the ash on the tip of his gasper off to the side. "I don't think that far ahead, sugar. Too tired for that" He says, grinning for a moment before dragging on the tip of the cigarette again.

"Yeah, don't have the capacity up there to think that much." She retorts quickly to Micah, letting out her own tired chuckle.

Micah rolls his eyes a bit, offering the tip of the smoke up to Melody's mouth. "You've got a tongue too quick, even for me." He comments, watching Melody's cheeks suck in as she takes up his offered cigarette. "For most of us old ones."

"I know it all too well," Melody says, blowing the smoke out to the side and away from his face. "when are we heading back?" She asks.

"Soon." Micah mumbles, taking his cigarette back. "Let me finish this." He gestures to it, and leans back, continuing to smoke it.

Melody nods. "You've got it." She says quietly, and after a moment of consideration, she lays her head back down on his shoulder, placing her forearm underneath herself.

Micah goes quiet for a good minute, before he snorts up a small laugh. "...Knew you liked being on top'a me." He comments, which gets him a light slap to the back of the head.

"Should have gutted you in your sleep." Melody replies, which just gets him laughing harder, before he quiets down to let her get another five minutes in while he smokes.

Finally, after another ten minutes, they get camp packed up and both get on Baylock, like when they left. Melody guides Micah on the road to camp before he recognises the path again, and they continue the ride in a very comfortable silence. As expected, once they arrived back and parted, the girls came up to Melody with a million questions—and one stood out; the one Micah and Melody expected the most.

"Did you spend the night with him?" Karen says, louder than any question, which draws a little color to Melody's cheeks. The other girls—Abigail, Mary-Beth and Tilly—all shut up and listen in, waiting for Melody's answer.

"No, I didn't sleep with Micah, if that's what you're asking me." She chuckles. "His plan didn't work out so well, so we had to improvise. It was fun." Melody replies simply.

The girls groan in symphony, and Karen slips five dollars to Abigail. "Damn you, I really thought Micah would have tried something!" She says to the bet-winning woman, who just laughs.

"He probably did, but Melody rejected him—or?" Mary-Beth piped up, and all the girls looked to Melody again.

She just shakes her head. "Nope; didn't say anything like it." This draws everyone's attention, and even Hosea—let in on it by Tilly—gets curious, piping up with his own 'what?'. Melody just laughs at all of them, and heads for her tent to change and give Abigail back her clothing.

Melody knows what they all assumed, and she's happy to have proved them wrong about Micah's intentions with her, and their relationship altogether. Soon after returning however, Dutch had her and Arthur called into his tent for something. She went after changing and returning the borrowed outfit back to Abigail, entering his tent after a quick knock.

"Melody." Dutch greeted her after she had entered, pointing to a chair next to Arthur where he was already sat. "I need you and Arthur to go into town for me, check on a few things. Arthur knows what, he'll explain." Dutch orders.

Melody nods at first, both to Dutch and Arthur, but then pipes up with something else. "Actually," She says, catching Dutch's attention away from his book. "could I go with Micah? I'm sure Arthur's busy as is, with all he's running around doing." She asks, looking to Arthur for his support on her question.

Arthur looks between them, fidgeting with his hat in his hands. "Uh—yeah, Micah knows what needs to be done.. he could—"

"Micah? No, go with Arthur." Dutch interrupts, looking back down into his book.

"Why not Micah? I know he isn't busy." Melody asks curiously, having made requests like this with other members before all the time, and seeing as it's never been declined, she got confused.

Dutch closes and sets his book down. "Because, I want you going with Arthur, not Micah."

"That's.." Melody pauses for a moment. "Why are you so against me going with Micah all of a sudden?" She furrows her brows a bit.

Dutch doesn't find this so amusing, raises his eyebrow, standing up from his cot. "I wonder what gives you the confidence to go against my word?"

Arthur, having just sat and watched them talk, pipes up himself next. "Dutch, I'm sure she don't mean nothin' by it—

"Stay out of this, son. I want to talk to Melody about this, actually." Quickly, Arthur is silenced by Dutch, and of course, exits once asked to, giving Melody a small look before he leaves the tent through the open flaps.

Melody watches Arthur leave, and turns to Dutch. "Wh—"

"You need to stop trying to go against my word, girl. What's gotten into you?" Dutch, clearly a fan of not letting people finish their sentences, cuts her off once more.

"Nothing, I just suggested—"

It almost getting tiresome, hearing Dutch jump into her every attempt at talking and explaining herself. "It isn't nothing. Plus; what's with Micah? Always going where he is?"

"I can't wish to be around a close friend?" She questions, her brown brows furrowing even harder, slightly inwards.

"Close friend.." Dutch chuckles mockingly. "Is that what he calls you?"

Melody scoffs, standing up from her chair as well. "What's your problem, Dutch?"

"This—" He gestures to Melody and outside, seemingly talking about Micah. "—is my problem. You two need to tone it down."

"Tone it down?" Melody repeats after Dutch with another scoff. "Are you trying to tell me I can't have close friends in camp anymore, or something? Did I hit the mark, Dutch?"

Not a fan of being called out, Dutch glares at her. "Watch it. I'm being quite nice to you, given the circumstances." He states. "You're going with Arthur, whether you like it or not. This whole.. rebellion act, it shows me where and in who I should be putting my trust. I hope you're aware of that."

"What do you mean? Are you saying I don't trust you, that I'm not on your side?" Melody replies, and his silence afterwards says enough. She scoffs, looking away from him in disbelief. "You're—you—God! How can you think that?"

Dutch shakes his head. "What am I supposed to think then, with you trying to get your way all the time?"

Melody just sighs, trying to find a grey area between the two of them in this—finding it hard with how Dutch is acting. "What's the harm in wanting to go on missions and jobs with people who are my friends?" She asks.

Dutch, ignoring her, gestures to the open flaps of his tent. "Get your horse ready, and tell Arthur to go with you," He says, before he gets up into her face, glaring down at her. "and don't tell Micah you're going anywhere."

Melody just scoffs, glaring back at him for a moment before pushing past him, exiting his tent. Dutch shakes his head after her, before he goes back to his reading. "Goddamn brat."

Melody storms off, first to her horse, but stops halfway. In no way is she letting this slide, not after how much she's trusted Dutch, just for him to act this way. In an instant, she turns for Micah's tent.

#rdr2 #micah bell #red dead redemption 2 #red dead 2 #rdr #red dead redemption two #red dead #rdr1 #rdr2 community #rdr2 micah #micah bell fic #rdr micah #micah bell x reader #micah rdr2 #red dead redemption micah #micah rdr #micah ref #micah #micah bell propaganda

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elizakai · 2 years ago

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revealing my true analyst self 😪💫

When it comes to media I enjoy I get so much brain-rot, and zuchiyeni’s idol! Au has been plaguing me, so I thought I’d share for anyone mildly interested. And I’m definitely totally not procrastinating.

these are just headcanons (?) and ideas mwaha.

I WANT TO TALK ABOUT IDOL DREAM✨ because it’s dream.

(⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️)

VOICE WISE , I think it’s pretty universal in fandom to imagine dream’s voice as more ✨feminine✨ (correct me if I’m wrong).

But an au that contains SINGING provides OPPORTUNITY. See, Dream’s well known , recognizable, popular, surely he is unique in some way. “Pretty voice” is Great and all, But he gives me ‘actually talented vocalist’ vibes. like. Imagine he’s got this really pretty atmospheric voice, pretty normal idea. Now ELEVATE THAT. Imagine he has the vocal capacity to be gritty. I’d ASSUME that’s not their music style typically (I have no idea what their music will be like to be clear) but just the ABILITY. To be really raw and powerful. And it comes out sometimes *ascends* that makes it more interesting imo. He’s sweet, mipy cinnamon roll. But boy could keep up with like a metal band if he wanted. That’s just equally funny and amazing.

I have example ideas but I’ll leave that out unless someone wants em so that this isn’t torture text to read hhhhh.

I just. Have brain worms at this point. If you’re still reading this, kudos.💀💫

My brain is also convinced that dream gets passionate in that way when he’s absorbed in emotions rather than performance. Like, if he’s invested in a song, he sometimes disassociates. That’s when the most impressive performances happen either way, I imagine ink and blue let it happen and just keep an eye on him. subtly snap him out of it afterwards.

ONE MORE THING I PROMISE I’ll stop.

He really likes Error. As a celebrity. I have an explanation I promise. Original Dreamtale Dream, according to the creator, has a respect for error. INTERESTING, right? You’d think their opposing morals would suggest otherwise?

This is ME interpreting (SIDE TANGENT)⚠️

But maybe Dream sees some of himself, or understands Error despite not interacting much. The both have a conviction, a belief, and they adhere to/ act on that. …alone. ERROR is convinced that alternates of the original world are bad, so he’s convicted to take care of it. It’s HIS responsibility in his mind. And the task is IMPOSSIBLE. he knows that deep down. But he tries, and he's all alone in it.

DREAM has been conditioned to believe that his worth/ purpose/ existence all ties back to making sure everyone is happy. That’s IMPOSSIBLE. But, he’s convicted of this as his sole purpose. So he tries. And he knows it’s impossible. And he’s all alone in it. They are both just isolated. So while dream doesn’t necessarily agree with him, specifically his erm, methods. (Cause dream DOES understand balance and probably can somewhat understand his pov) he doesn’t hate him, he has RESPECT. EVEN MORE INTERESTING IF YOU INCLUDE INK. He may align with Inks values MORE than Errors. He’s respectful towards and works together with Ink. But I think Ink has lost his respect. It’s confirmed that in dreamtale, dream and ink have some sort of falling out. There’s broken trust. Imagining inks response to dream not disliking error as much as he should is interesting. Lmao ig they both have drama with ink. (END SIDE TANGENT)⚠️

ANYWAYS. Back to applying this to Idol! Error strikes me as a more ‘senior’ idol. I’m just imagining dream enjoys watching his performances and keeping up with his fanbase, just. Happily watching interviews and listening to his music sometimes. <3 Does he entirely emulate him? no X) he just liked him. And if he takes notes sometimes, that’s his business.

ink: ‘REALLY? THIS GUY? He’s an Asshole!!!’

dream: *sighs dreamily* yeah…

meanwhile blue probably has managed to casually say hi to the guy and make friends. Dreams too shy. An interaction would be very awkward. But an colab would be an drEaM come true .(wow! So funny!) Ink half heartedly hating the guy.

also I’m JUST saying.

Error. Dream. messed up. sleep.

Insomnia. I JUST. Like the idea. *evaporates* if I count as a fan, the fans want a colab >:(

I’m going to assume we all already are guessing dream and nightmare have some sort of drama🤪. I really like the idea of the MT.trio and The Stars performing together , despite probably being rivals, but I wonder if MT.trio looking up to Nightmare would affect that. Like, depending on how the twins feel towards each other, Nm might be like ‘avoid dat biatch’ and the trio is like ‘yes yes, very bad’ 😪✨ (also if what are their FANBASES like???? Like interacting with each other?? Drama much?) also I guess this could apply to Error. Is he a rival to nightmare? Are they friendly? Either way, does he care much about nightmares opinion? If they are RIVALS him interacting with dream and crew is funny.

(I imagine blue is friends with like everyone anyway. And ink probably would tolerate him if he had to.) but If nightmare is negative towards dream, and Error is a friend of his, it’s kind of great imagining Error just being chill and aloof but mentally assessing dream when they interact, keeping in mind what nightmare has said. Next time nightmare complains about his brother errors like ‘lol ur little bro seems perfectly normal but ok hoe B)’ *proceeds to hang with both of them*

(god it’s longer than I wanted ahem.)

ANYWAYS.

I NEED TO STOP GOODBYE NOW :) these are all just goofy ideas and now I need to actually go be productive at 2 am.

I like discussing silly things so like, feel free if you somehow read to the bottom💀.

Idol! Dream by @tuxibirdie

Idol! Au by/ belongs to @zucchiyeni

dead brain cells by @ me.

#idolau✨#idoldream #dream sans #This was so long um.#utmv #ut au #idolss #Ideas???????????#BRAINROT HOTSPOT #local phsyco analyst ig

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solarsleepless · 1 year ago

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hello all

welcome back the kristy thomas autism analysis, where i'm rewatching the show and writing down her autistic traits as i see em (as well as noting any neurodiverse traits in the other girls). here's part one if you haven't seen it.

this ep is not narrated by kristy, so she is not the 'main character' in this episode, which basically means there's going to be a LOT shorter than before

without further ado, let's jump right in!

Episode 2

"did he ask you to the dance or not?!" autistic people often don't pick up on things when they're indirectly stated, and much prefer a direct way of speaking because we tend to not pick up on the double meaning, which is clearly showcased with how much value kristy gives on the exact phrasing here

"subtlety is not among her many talents" more examples of kristy's bluntness—she doesn't feel the need to sugarcoat anything she's saying, she's just stating what's true

kristy is extremely and visibly confused by the notion that him saying he'd "see her there" is him asking her out. again, more emphasis on how she needs directness

oh also good time to note: comfort clothes!!! autistic people tend to gravitate towards clothes that feel nice. from this point onwards we see kristy wearing a lot of hats, which can feel good pressure-wise or even texture-wise.

oh also also, kristy is pretty queercoded!!! research right now indicates that autistic people are much more likely to identify under the lgbtqia(+) umbrella

something i didn't have enough space to note last time is that kristy generally wears much more comfortable clothes than the rest of the bsc. not that they actively wear uncomfortable clothes, but she's the only one who really dresses plain, with sweatpants, jeans, and soft shirts.

stimming: fidgeting slightly with the twizzlers :)

even More issues with bluntness: she doesn't understand how rude it is to say that her friend's dad is crazy and so forth because of his being obssessive over aforementioned friend.

not much to say on her response to mary anne's "and what would you know about having a normal dad?!" (ouch, mary anne), it's perfectly understandable. the way she just ups and runs without saying anything can be read as autistic.

additional notes

as this episode is claudia centric, we get a much bigger view into what she's like at school and whatnot. almost straight away, she tells us that above everything, she's good at art—which isn't in and of itself a sign, but with everything else, it can be! people with adhd can like art for a variety of reasons: the ability to just sit back and focus your mind on just one thing you want to create, the fact that you can create as well is important, the textures you can use and feel, the way you just sort of disconnect your mind from everything else. she remarks that she also likes it because there's no homework or tests, things adhders are notoriously bad at keeping track of due to their executive dysfunction.

this episode showcases most of all how she struggles with school. especially if claudia is dyslexic/dyscalculiac as she's slightly implied to be, pair that with adhd, and she's not living the vida loca.

as well as showing the same traits listed in part 1, janine also mentions she has noise-canceling headphones, which are common party of autistic culture as sound generally affects us the most. adhd and autism are also often hereditary, so if janine is autistic, it's likely that claudia is similarly nd.

claudia is shown to not understand how the math works, even when stacey explains in depth. she asks "and how do you do that?" and dyscalculia impairs how easy is it to understand mathematics, even if they're regarded as "simple" to others. there's also a pretty high comorbidity rate between dyscalculia and adhd with 11% having dyscalculia. generally, it's common to see adhd paired with another learning disorder, with 45% of ppl with adhd also having a learning disorder

stimming: tapping her hands on the table and swaying her leg

mary anne sits cross-legged in her chair: autistic people tend to have a heightened proprioceptive sensory input, which is basically why we sit funky, and why it is physically uncomfortable to sit "normally", with both feet on the ground.

anxiety is very common in autism, which both mary anne and especially her dad display. her dad's very autistic coded as well, but we can get into that in later episodes.

#autistic kristy comp #kristy thomas #the babysitters club #claudia kishi #mary anne spier #janine kishi

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cinderella-ish · 1 year ago

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Kyo and Momiji: interlude (part 3 of 5)

So, here are just some cute scenes from late S1/early S2 that also inform us of the nature of their relationship.

First, these gems from the Hiro episode.

Momiji immediately figures out what's going on when Hiro starts castigating Kisa for bringing the Mogeta DVD to Tohru instead of watching it with him. When Kisa expresses confusion, Momiji cheerfully says, "Hiro's being unreasonable!"

Soon after, we get this delightful moment:

Kyo: What the heck is going on? Momiji: You're so dense, Kyo. Kyo: Huh? Momiji: Hiro was jealous of Tohru. He's trying his best, but he's still a sixth grader. He's awkward about his feelings.

(cut to Kisa and Hiro talking, then back to our faves)

Tohru: Ah, so I was his romantic rival! Momiji: That's rough for you, Tohru! Kyo: Huh?

And later, when Tohru sentences Hiro to "hug penalty," Kyo's response is adorably telling.

Kyo: Seriously? How is that a punishment? Momiji: *giggles*

I mean, just look at Momiji's face when he calls Kyo dense! But also, it's extremely telling that Kyo trusts Momiji enough to ask him what's going on.

I think this interaction highlights the difference between their people skills. Kyo is good at getting a read on people; he can tell when someone's upset, when someone is genuinely happy, etc... but he may not always be able to verbalize what's at the core of their feelings. He immediately knows Hiro has done something to upset Tohru, but he can't make the leap to understanding it has anything to do with Kisa. I wonder how much of this was a survival/coping mechanism he picked up because of his status as the cat. He would need to be good at getting a quick read on people, especially his biological father, for his own safety.

Momiji, on the other hand, is very good at understanding the underlying things that drive people (knowing that Tohru values her mother when he wants to convince Tohru to go to the onsen, for example, or knowing that Hatori is really just trying to protect Tohru in Spring Comes, or- in this very scene- knowing that Hiro cares about Kisa more than anything), but either can't always tell when people are down and need to talk to someone, or just doesn't like giving space to negative emotions. I suspect this is because of his own traumatic childhood; he needed a narrative way to understand what his parents did, to empathize with them so he wouldn't hate them. He had time to reflect on and understand their perspective, even if it still hurts him.

Momiji uses his ability to understand people's driving forces to manipulate them (not necessarily a bad thing - he manipulates Hiro into apologizing to Tohru and returning her pocketbook by bringing Kisa into the situation, for example). Kyo uses his ability to read people in the moment to make sure his loved ones are safe and happy.

Something else I find interesting here is that the interaction between Kisa and Hiro is a bit of a microcosm of Kyo and Tohru's relationship, right down to Momiji's role as interpreter and catalyst. Momiji's the one who brings Kisa into the situation

Just a cute li'l brotherly moment between them in the episode where Tohru gets sick.

Here, Kyo, Tohru, Arisa, and Saki are planning for their Kyoto trip, and Kyo is being a grouch about having to spend time with Yuki. Momiji scolds him for focusing on that instead of the fact that he gets to spend time with Tohru (something we've seen Momiji scold Kyo for before).

Momiji: Kyo, you dumbo! You already get to go with Tohru! Don't be so selfish! Kyo: Oi. Momiji: I wish I could go with Tohru! I want to eat deer crackers with her! Arisa: Can't eat 'em. Momiji: Kyo, you don't wanna? You don't wanna do stuff with Tohru? Kyo: Idio- 'Course I- Saki: 'Course you-? Arisa: 'Course you-? Momiji: 'Course you-? Kyo: Yeah! This is exactly how you all mess with me! Arisa: It's out of love, I tell ya!

And this scene, after Mayu pours the bucket of water on Kyo and Haru, where Kyo scolds Tohru (again, one way he shows affection), Momiji translates for him/verbalizes Kyo's affection for Tohru again, and Kyo gets embarrassed (cuuuute).

Kyo: And you. Stay away from Haru if he turns dark. Tohru: Huh? Kyo: You can't be trusted not to get hurt. Tohru: O-oh, but that would be rude to Hatsuharu-san... Kyo: He's the one who's rude! Tohru: B-but that's- Kyo: Sheesh, you don't get it at all. Momiji: "I couldn't stand that happening!" is what Kyo wants to say, I'm sure. Tohru: Eh? Kyo: Momiji! Get outta here! Leave! Stop blabbing abou-

It's worth noting that Kyo's scolding Tohru because she could have gotten hurt, and he cuts himself off when he catches sight of his beads and is reminded that he once hurt Tohru, too. Tohru getting hurt is the worst possible outcome of any situation for him.

Just another cute brotherly moment complete with a big brother noogie from Kyo.

The scene where Momiji takes them to the haunted house is also a great little moment showcasing the different ways they show they love Tohru.

Momiji: Here! This is it! Wow, it looks like so much fun! Yuki and Kyo (internally): This... has gotta be... Momiji: So exciting! Let's go! Kyo: Hold your horses, kid! Yuki: Why don't we ask everybody if they want to enter first? Like Honda-san. Haru: She's speechless. Kyo: That means no. Let's go home. Momiji: Aw, Tohru, you can't? You're scared? Tohru: N-no! Well, if you ask if I'm scared, I would have to say I am! But they say that if you clear your mind of worldly thoughts, even fire doesn't feel hot! I can't keep avoiding it! Kyo: Actually, it's fine to avoid it. Tohru: I'm going to enter and show you I can! Go me!

Again, Momiji wants to do fun things with Tohru, while Kyo wants to protect her.

Inside the haunted house is hilarious, too. Yuki and Kyo are both exasperated by the other three, and both of them scold Tohru for closing her eyes or trying to laugh her way through (like Momiji). Kyo teases her, too, which is always delightful. When she falls, Kyo and Yuki both offer their hands, then immediately start fighting. Momiji takes her hand and scolds the two of them.

Momiji: Don't ignore a girl as you fight! It's a no-no! Kyo: Shut up, brat! Hurry and go! Yuki: He's right, though.

Momiji is again telling Kyo to worry less about his hatred for Yuki and more about his love for Tohru, which seems to be a recurring theme. Hmmmm....

Anyway, part 4 will be the beach arc! Hope you enjoyed reading!

Momiji and Kyo: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

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