#very simple but certainly not without challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twilightofthesandwiches · 2 years ago

Text

Any analysis of how Undertale deals with Pacifism and how it tries to guide the Player towards it has to take a deep look at Papyrus. Because Papyrus is the one character in the game who will never kill, the one actual ‘True Pacifist’ in the game’s main cast.

I mean, the Player can be an even bigger Pacifist. Papyrus does still FIGHT, and the Player can get through an entire run without draining a single sliver of HP. But… they can also be the world’s biggest murderbastard and literally stab reality to death.

Toriel would very much like to not kill, but she is also fully capable of doing so.

Same with Asgore, but he has a lot more actual blood on his hands. Undyne and Mettaton are both fully 100% willing to kill to accomplish their goals. Sans is non-violent in most runs because he’s too lazy and depressed to do anything, and when he is motivated into actions - it is in the form of a FIGHT to the death. Alphys… the timeline is a bit fuzzy cause both she and Mettaton love lying so much, but it seems like she did sincerely add deadly weapons to Mettaton cause killing humans would make him more 'useful' and then had second thoughts once she developed a parasocial relationship with the Human Child and THEN she and Mettaton started hatching their little play-acting plan. I think??

With Papyrus there is NONE of this ambiguity, we know for sure - no matter what timeline or what may come - The Great Papyrus will always choose MERCY.

And the interesting thing about that is on a Meta-Sense, Papyrus is a very rare example of the game giving MERCY towards the Player.

Because the game starts out being really obtuse with the Sparing mechanic and how it works. If you want to be a Pacifist in Undertale from the get-go, you’re gonna have to work for it. You're gonna have to figure it out on your own and commit to it and believe that it's possible. It's basically a test of your own belief in non-violence and your moral integrity. Then, the RUINS end with the Toriel boss battle - in a way, that’s probably the hardest Sparing puzzle in the whole game. And it’s very very easy to accidentally kill her. (I’d almost say that’s the intention of the battle, to try to goad the Player into Resetting so they can see how the game remembers across RESETs)

And then we have Papyrus, and it’s not just that his ��Sparing Puzzle’ is something as simple as outlasting him and letting him run out of dialogue - and it’s not just that he’s the only boss that will just give up and let you continue if you lose to him enough times. it’s also that, just as Papyrus is the only boss incapable of accidentally killing the Player - he’s also the only boss that the player is incapable of accidentally killing.

(Okay, fine, to be pedantic, there’s also Asgore)

I mean, the Player can certainly kill him if they want to - but draining Papyrus’s HP just makes him skip through his battle dialogue right to the end of it. It’s designed in such a way that, no matter what Route you're on and no matter what approach you take with Papyrus - you will always end up on this screen.

Unlike basically any other Monster in this game, including the major boss battle just before him - you can’t kill Papyrus accidently. You can't kill him without also having Sparing him as an option. The game kinda treats killing Papyrus as one of the Worst Things You Can Do because killing Papyrus will always be a deliberate, considered action done to a person who will not kill you and who has stopped wanting to FIGHT and has extended a hand of Mercy. With the game clearly communicating what you need to do to Spare him at that moment.

And that means that - even if you killed before, even if you don’t have the patience of a True Pacifist, even if you spent all this time in the game without even trying to engage with the Sparing mechanic… as long as you don’t want to be a Huge Rat Bastard, the game is basically gifting you with the very very easy option to not be. Being a Pacifist in Undertale is usually a challenge - a puzzle to be solved, a test to pass. But as long as you aren’t intentionally trying to be the Worst Person - the game is basically giving you Papyrus.

If you accept his Mercy, you are accepting the game’s Mercy. That sort of benefit-of-the-doubt assumption that maybe all of the LOVE you might have accumulated so far was all due to honest mistakes or panic or an attempt in self-defense. That you still deserve this one chance to prove that you are not intentionally, maliciously cruel - or at least not like the Worst Person in the World. Even if you did kill before, you still deserve at least one friend.

And Sparing Papyrus leads you to his wonderful Hangout/Dating Sequence and to his Phone Calls and they all add so much wholesome charm to the Undertale experience and no matter what happens Papyrus will always think the best of the Player and he will always trust them and it also makes Sans also kinda your buddy by default. And more than just adding a little bit of wholesome charm into even the more LOVE-filled Playthroughs, I think this is meant to try and incentivize these players into trying out the Mercy mechanic a bit more.

Whatever it’s, like, for future playthroughs or Resetting the game right there to try a True Pacifist Run right there and then or just trying to be a little kinder for the rest of this current playthrough - especially since there’s an emphasis about the close friendship Papyrus has with the upcoming boss Undyne, and to a lesser extent with his idol and next-next boss battle Mettaton. It’s like “well, if you didn’t figure out how to spare before, this is how you do it? And isn’t it nice to have a friend? Isn’t it nice to not have to kill this lovable skeleton man? You should do this more often wink wink nudge nudge!”

And it’s like… all of Papyrus’ loved ones care about him so much but they also look down on his pacifism. They see his inability to kill and desire to make friends as simple naivete and that’s why all tend to hide the truth from him all the time. About what will happen to the Human he will capture, about what his new Human friend might’ve done, about the fact that they view him as so naïve.

They admire it on some level, that’s why they want to protect it, but they also see it as a weakness which is why they want to protect it by lying to him all the time. But, you know, Undyne says that if Papyrus goes into battle he’ll be ‘ripped into little smiling shreds’ and that is certainly what happens every time a Player chooses to refuse Papyrus’ Mercy and the game’s Mercy and press that FIGHT button…

But have you thought about all the times that doesn’t happen? All the careless or violent players who were offered that skeletal hand of friendship, accepted it and then carried that offered kindness forward for the rest of the game? All the players motivated to do good for the sake of their buddy Papyrus? All the Murder Routes stopped because the player just didn’t have it in them to kill someone who believes in them so earnestly?

Like, no, it’s not a surefire thing - especially since Papyrus has so much less narrative power than the Actual Unkillable Time God that is the Player. But it happened, and it happened many many times to many players. Papyrus offered Mercy, the game offered Mercy. And much like Frisk’s Pacifism, it comes from a place of seeing the honest goodness in your ‘enemy’ and can inspire them to become a better person - this little sparkle of goodness being passed forwards.

And I think that’s beautiful, even if it didn’t happen in every timeline. Any potential future where Papyrus’ kindness can have such an effect on the Player and thus the entire trajectory of the Underground validates his kindness and pacifism on some level - even if there are also always the potential worlds that it backfires completely.

And there’s also one other way in which the Great Papyrus Proves Pacifism Pays. One that is a bit more practical, perhaps. And one that Papyrus himself is not even aware of.

Papyrus’ boss battle can be a surprisingly challenging one specifically because he is the only one who doesn’t kill the Player.

Like there is a reason why Papyrus will just offer you to skip his Fight after you lose to him three times, because if he didn’t do that - there’s an honest risk that the Player can get stuck in a much stuckier way than anywhere else in the game.

Because, like, for basically any other character in the game, being killed is the Worst Thing that could ever happen to them. For everyone except the actual Player Character because we are an Actual Unkillable Time God and dying is nothing more than a minor annoyance that sets you back to your last SAVE Point. So, leaving aside Papyrus’ admirably kind intentions - there is not much material difference from the Player’s perspective between getting Captured and getting a more traditional GAME OVER. Except…

Except getting Captured does not undo everything that happened in your inventory during the battle. In every other Undertale battle, if you use all of your items but still lose - the GAME OVER at least means you get your stuff back. But because Papyrus doesn’t kill you, any healing item you’ve used during the battle is still used. I have watched so many Undertale Let’s Players waste all of their valuable items on their first Papyrus battle and then have to face him again without them and thus do even worse in their second go… and then their third go... and thankfully then Papyrus offers them to skip the fight.

And while that technically can be circumvented by just manually closing the game and opening it back again on their pre-battle SAVE Point, a lot of players are gonna reflexively Save over it if they pop over to the Shop or the Snowed Inn before their second attempt at the battle. If Papyrus didn’t offer that chance to skip his battle, it could’ve easily become a softlock situation for a huge chunk of players - because he doesn’t kill the Player.

Most of Undertale deals with the value of non-violence from a standpoint of morality and kindness and personal connections. Since most people do die when they get killed. But when dealing with an Unkillable Time God like the Player, Papyrus proves that not-killing might actually be the most practical solution.

Of course, it doesn’t seem like Papyrus is aware of any of this. From his perspective, he is just offering genuine mercy to a being just as ephemeral as he is. But it accidentally turned into one of the most effective methods of blocking the Player’s way… at least he didn’t offer us an opt out so soon after that.

And it’s interesting when comparing him to how his brother Sans - one of the few people actually aware of the existence of SAVEs and RESETs - deals with the Player. Because the Sans boss battle at the end of the Murder Route is entirely based on the concept that death is nothing but an annoyance to the Player. Sans is less trying to kill the Player (the way Undyne the Undying did), he is simply trying to annoy the Player into a ragequit. But he is still killing the Player.

Now imagine a Sans battle where he has all of his usual annoying tricks, but also instead of killing you - he captures you just like his brother would’ve in a happier timeline. And while it’s not a fool-proof plan to stop the Player in their tracks - he could very easily stick them in that sort of softlock situation where they have to battle him again and again without any Healing Items. Forcing them to either abandon the game or RESET the whole world back the way it was - just like Sans wants them too.

But instead, by killing the Player, he is just allowing that perfect second-third-fourth-fifth-sixth-try where they get all of their Stuff back. And he does actually knows that. And why doesn’t he do that? (Speaking here from an in-universe character study perspective. Obviously the Doylist answer is that the game doesn’t want to Softlock you even in the most deliberately-frustrating part of the game).

Maybe, even though he intellectually knows that killing the Player will be of no help - he still does it because he wants to. Because he just wants to get back at the evil murderous monster that took his brother from him and destroyed his entire world even if he knows it’s actually ineffective. And this thirst for bloodshed is, ironically, blinding him from a new exciting way to actually practically stop that murderous bastard who is themself motivated entirely by bloodshed.

Maybe he just can’t do something like that. Reducing an enemy to exactly one HP and then stopping is not a feat anyone else in the game is capable of pulling off - even the ones who would obviously use such a thing (like Toriel or a Player with a Pacifist intentions). Maybe it’s something that requires a lot of hard practice and discipline and carefulness, that Sans never thought to put in because he didn’t see it as a useful skill the way Papyrus did.

Maybe that wouldn’t have worked anyways. After all, and that’s something I kinda touched on in a previous Overly Long Rambly Hot Take - Sans’ War of Attrition against the Player is greatly helped by the fact he can’t remember every single previous try and so he can’t get exhausted the way the Player can get. Obviously, without a GAME OVER induced RESET that will not apply. Which is especially notable because… Sans’ laziness is literally what brings him down at the end of that Boss Battle.

So maybe, while Papyrus, as long as you decline his offer to skip the battle, is capable of offering just the same Battle as before over and over and over again.... It’s possible that Sans just won’t be able to pull off two or three or more battles of the same intensity and difficulty in a row without a RESET to undo his own exhaustion.

But I think it’s at least worth considering the option, y’know? That after all this time of viewing Papyrus’ kindness as sweet-and-yet-kinda-foolish-naïveté - that exact viewpoint made Sans overlook the perfect solution to dealing with his little Murderous Time God problem. Cause he just never considered that while killing might be fully morally justifiable in this situation and very very satisfying, that does not necessarily mean it is actually the most practical solution. And that maybe, in a weirdly twisted way, Pacifism WAS the answer.

#undertale #ut #utdr #under tale #papyrus #the great papyrus #papyrus undertale #papyrus ut #sans #sans undertale #sans ut #sans the skeleton #papyrus the skeleton #undertale analysis #undertale meta #genocide route #genocide run

2K notes · View notes

redliongeneral · 2 months ago

Note

@moonblessed-vessel

Post-DLC verse

The workings of her plan were always a terribly complex sort of thing. Alas, nothing was ever simple. No matter how she wished it to be, it was a constant battle to succeed in her own goals without interference — the artificial body she now inhabited certainly didn’t help matters at times, either. She’d grown used to it, over time.. but, it had its cons. Cons that she simply had to adapt to over time.

..And now, she found herself having to adapt and manage by her lonesome. Blaidd had been driven mad. It was a memory that, frankly, she had shoved down as much as possible. Her protector, her family, gone. It was just one more reason to loathe the Two Fingers and the Greater Will.

But, with the rumors floating about with Miquella and his Consort in a land different from the Lands Between.. it was difficult to not take interest. It was different from her own agenda, looking into such a thing, she knew as much. But, with her mother in a state far unlike how she once was, and with her two siblings having met their fate.. it was difficult to not hold some level of desire to look into the rumors. Particularly, about the rumors concerning his supposed Consort. If it meant finding living family, even if they were supposedly thought dead, some part of her felt obligated to put some level of effort into searching.

And so, search she would.

Radahn waited, before the Gate of Divinity, for any challengers. He was, inexplicably, young and healthy again, and only had vague memories of his suffering and death. Was it a dream, perhaps? Or was he indeed revived? It all left him confused, and he did not remember much from his time being infected. Whether it was because his soul blocked it out, or Miquella obscured his memories to spare him of the pain, he couldn't tell.

He also could not recall why he ever resisted in the first place.

But now he owed his new life to the ascendant god. There was no room for doubt, no room for rebellion. He felt that clearly.

It was likely Miquella had weaved powerful spells into his very being when he re-made him. And it felt like his vessel - whoever the poor man once was - was deeply in love with Miquella to begin with. Only fragments of him remained - some odd horns here and there, and faded memories.

He had to adore and protect his new god-husband. It was his purpose, his duty. His ambitions, his pride, his past - didn't matter.

For now, Miquella resided behind the gate, working the mysterious ritual to complete his ascension. Radahn knew little of how it worked. He stood guard, and he would not allow anyone to harm Miquella. He was more powerful than ever, his new swords imbued with holy enchantments, and a connection to blood magic he did not have before.

#verse: post dlc au

106 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 15 days ago

Text

Once you've entered the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it's pretty tough to dip back out into the world of a struggling actor. But that's exactly what Chris Evans is doing in Materialists. The new romantic dramedy from writer-director Celine Song - the follow-up to her soulful 2023 debut Past Lives, which earned Oscar nominations for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay - sees Evans trade his Captain America spandex for a cater waiter's apron as John, a broke theater actor working odd jobs to pay the bills. The film sets up a love triangle between John, his high-end matchmaker ex Lucy, played by Dakota Johnson, and Harry, a charming, wealthy suitor played by Pedro Pascal.

"John is amalgamation of an entire lifestyle of theater artists in New York City," Song told Rolling Stone on a recent video call from New York City. "He's somebody who was born poor and grew up poor and has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about it in a way that's really beautiful, and I find that to be quite moving. So how did she land on a literal American hero as her romantic underdog?

"There is a merchandise of Chris that people who do not know him maybe see first and foremost, because that's the easiest way to understand an actor, as an object," Song says. "But then when I actually met Chris the person, he was so inspiring as John, because there's a part of Chris that's John and has been John forever. Chris for a while was an up and comer, and he also understands that." She adds with a laugh, "He's had roommates."

Evans welcomed the change of pace the role offered. "It's certainly nice to play someone who has challenges and struggles that I can relate to, just very human, pedestrian hurdles, as opposed to life-ending consequences," Evans says of playing a guy without superpowers.

"His posture, physicality, clothing, the tangible things that you can live in to bring a character to life - it's nice that it was flannels and sweatpants as opposed to a shield."

Rolling Stone spoke with Evans about Materialists, his own experience with moviemaking behind the camera, and modern romance.

What drew you to Materialists?

What Celine does so well is take what seems at times like simple dialogue and make the scene, from a directorial standpoint, incredibly special. She has a way of making it feel the way these things actually feel when they're happening to you.

Sometimes very simple things can happen in life that feel so profound, and when you try to tell a friend about it, it's never the same. And that's about the restraint that she shows as a director.

The restraint she shows as a writer. The silence and the pacing have just as much impact as the words themselves.

When you read the screenplay did you immediately feel connected to John?

I assumed that I would be cast as Harry when I first met with [Celine]. She said,

"Which role do you like?" And I said,

"Well, I like John, but I guess I'd be OK if you want to cast me as Harry." Both roles were wonderful, but I was a little more drawn to John. Luckily she felt the same.

What did you like about him?

There was more vulnerability, there was more pain. John is a guy who isn't where he wants to be in life. And I think it's easy to project an attitude of not caring, because if you care, then you'll have to try. And if you try, you might fail. John is this living embodiment of, "I'll push you away before you can push me away." But he also can't help his heart. He loves Lucy. And to admit that to Lucy, to admit that to himself, requires risk. And that's where his growth unfolds. where his growth unfolds.

Did playing John remind you about your early days in acting, considering he's still trying to break in?

I absolutely can relate to that aspect of John. The drive, the doubt, the shitty roommates, these are all things that I absolutely identify with. I myself am a little bit more of an open book. I'm too sensitive, you know. I'm a delicate guy.

And as a result, I probably overshare as a coping mechanism, where I think John is a little bit more of a closed book.

If you were 37, living with an inconsiderate roommate, and working random gigs to get by, would you still be trying to pursue acting?

I don't know how I would handle it if I were in my late thirties still trying. But I certainly know it would make me punchy. It would make me feel defensive and a little ossified and not wanting to feel inadequate because of the fact that I haven't reached my dreams. You feel inadequate enough to yourself, and to have a romantic partner also tell you the ways you're inadequate, it's just too much.

Talk to me a little bit about shooting the barn scene near the end of the film, where John and Lucy have a painful but necessary heart-to-heart. John says some rather swoon-worthy but also sorrowful lines.

One of the things that I love about Celine is that she shoots on 35[mm film]. Past Lives was absolutely gorgeous. And when you show up that night and see those string lights, you know you're going to be in a frame of film that's going be beautiful. You feel that it's special.The scene itself is this very vulnerable, very honest declaration of his love and knowing that he doesn't have what she wants, but also stating what he's desperate for. It's just very raw, and so it's very painful. But as an actor, when you try to call from your own personal experiences, there's plenty of things in life that I could call to, to feel that level of vulnerability, feeling just totally exposed and honest with your heart in your hand - and it usually leads to tears [laughs].

The fact that it was shot on 35mm also raises the stakes in terms of how many takes you can do.

Absolutely! That's part of the romance of making movies. I like the fact that there is a finite amount of film. I like watching mags of film being switched out of the camera. I like checking the gate. I like all that stuff. I like things dipping in and out of soft focus and not being able to fix it in post. That's the art of it.

What distinguishes Materialists from other romantic films? Celine Song's writing seems to tap into a different perspective on love, one could say more grounded.

Most rom-coms have this very idealized version of love, which is fun. It's great for escapism, but it doesn't always reflect real life. And this movie has a much more realistic, grounded, slightly less naive interpretation of what love is as something that's far more relatable to the modern viewer. The landscape of love today is really tough. A lot of the social norms that used to keep marriages together have been deconstructed. Now it's predicated purely on compatibility, and that can very easily devolve into an algorithm as opposed to matters of the heart.

Lucy says early on that love is easy, but dating is difficult. That seems to synthesize the film's theme.

Couldn't have said it better. Love is your heart. It's clear. It's binary. Dating is when the math comes in, dating is when it becomes a calculation. Dating is your mind, dating is pragmatism, and trying to reconcile the needs of your mind and the wants of your heart is messy.

Later this summer you also star in the Ethan Coen thriller Honey Don't! Is this a shift in gears in your career?

I hope so. It's just working with good filmmakers. As long as I've been doing this, it always comes back to the filmmaker. There are always a hundred reasons to do a movie. Sometimes it's great a role. Sometimes it's a really funny script or an amazing director, a great producer. But sometimes you try to squint to make a movie make sense and check enough boxes to make sense. The only box that matters is the filmmaker. It really comes down to the director, and that's really all I'm pursuing these days.

And if I like their work, then I'm in.

You directed your own romantic dramedy, Before We Go, a decade ago. Is this a genre you particularly enjoy, or were there other reasons to tackle it in your first feature as a director?

At that time, I wanted to direct, but I also was thinking from a very pragmatic perspective: I needed to learn. I had never been to film school. I was veering into a lane that I had no experience in. So I just felt like I owed the title of director a little more respect than to jump in and try and do something that I knew I might not be able to handle. The piece itself is a very contained script: two people, New York City, all-night shoots, felt very manageable to me. I did love the topic, but there was a more pragmatic motivation behind it as well.

Is directing something you want to try again?

It really is, but the tricky thing is I have about a hundred other things that I'm also interested in. I'm slightly fickle. Some days I'll wake up and I want to direct, but then some days I wake up and I want to go learn carpentry. [Laughs.] Honestly, it's about the movies I see. When I see an incredible movie that really inspires me, it completely pulls my focus back. But if I step away from actually going to see films, my interests drift.

It would be interesting to see what you would do behind the camera now, 10 years after that first attempt and after the experience of working with directors like Celine.

I would do it very differently. Oh, my gosh. When you look back, you just realize how much of the movie was done in a defensive posture. You have a movie you see in your head, but you almost don't have the courage or poetry of language or just knowledge of the medium to convey what you want it to be. You end up sometimes out of just simple fear, intimidation, letting things settle to a familiar, recognizable place.

I probably would take a lot more risk or be a lot more confident in what I wanted to see happen. But part of the reason that diving back in is so intimidating is because you know that it would have to be that the second time. You can't do the same thing if you're going to do it again. It's such a demanding thing. You give so much of your life: the prep, the filming, the post. To do it again but not do it properly would be a disservice to myself, my time. And that's a little intimidating.

What would you say is the defining quality of Celine Song as a filmmaker or what you found most memorable about your work with her in creating John?

Conviction. She knows exactly what she wants. I've worked with a lot of directors that have an idea, and they're very passionate, but they're more than happy to collaborate, massage, meet in the middle, find, make it this kind of, "Well, you bring this, and I'll bring this." And not to say that Celine is not a collaborator, but she's also very confident in her reasons. There's not a word that she writes that's filler; everything is on purpose. And it takes a minute to understand that, but once you find that trust, that confidence, and you start to say, "OK, I'm going to let go a little bit and let you take the wheel completely. If you say jump, I'm just going to say how high." She's two for two now, in my opinion.

#Chris Evans #Rolling Stones #interview #materialists #Celine Song

75 notes · View notes

dopaminetreasurehoard · 5 months ago

Text

Ok rant

If you hate Frodo, just admit you have some hate towards parts of yourself. Just admit it and get over projecting onto the character. And then maybe talk to a therapist.

Frodo represents the strength needed for an incredibly brutal and largely invisible inner struggle. It weakens him, it confuses and destroys his mind, it makes him as vulnerable as it can. And Frodo's crime seems to be that he is not stoic about it. His suffering and fortitude are minimized and dismissed.

(It's interestingly similar to hate that people with invisible disabilities get.)

Honestly, the Frodo-hate points to just how much this story still pushes and confronts our ideas about what is male, what is strength, what heroes ought to be. Frodo challenges all of our hyper-masculine idealizations.

If his vulnerability makes you uncomfortable, GOOD. If he makes you cringe, EXAMINE THAT. Maybe, just maybe, it's poking at your own issues about shame and what is shameful to you. What do you judge yourself about?

The Lord of the Rings is supposed to challenge the idea of who heroes are. It's the entire point.

People who just have to call Frodo a "little b*tch" do so because they despise weakness of any kind, especially in a male character, and probably are not very kind to themselves when they show or feel their own "weakness". I hope they realize that they can have something in common with Frodo without shame. Because in the end Frodo did something that all the bravest toughest warriors couldn't, because of his heart, his honor, and his value of a simple, soft way of being.

Sam is certainly as much a hero as Frodo, but (as Sean Astin rightly said) while he did a lot of visible, physical work, Frodo sacrificed his soul, willingly, for others. I don't know how that's not an incredible fortitude of will, heart, and courage.

Who among the haters would give as much?

#seriously i believe Klingons would welcome Frodo to Sto'vo'kor #thats klingon Valhalla #you can have the strongest body and not be this brave #its small acts of kindness by ordinary folk that keep evil at bay #lotr #lord of the rings #frodo baggins #tolkien

99 notes · View notes

culticterror · 27 days ago

Note

-@genderless-slave

Hello culticterror 🙇🏻‍♀️ I'm a big fan of high protocol owner/slave kink especially under hypnosis if you're doming in a high protocol scenario what are some of your favorite ways to introduce new rules and play with a sub?

A very good question.

Rules are often a point of contention for me for numerous reasons but I love giving them regardless. You simply have to be smart about how you apply them. Rules have real long term effect, so they also have long term logistics to work out.

For example; a rule to pray to your Superior once a day. — while for some this would seem rather simple at first, it quickly becomes a test of your own ability to ensure you follow through, regardless of supervision which is never guaranteed.

I like to say I come with accessibility options, and it's taken to heart. With how common ADHD is, it can certainly be a lot harder for some to follow more than 2-3 active rules at a time.

So, opting for passive rules is often an easier way to start implementing them. Such as instead of needing my permission to orgasm every time since again I may not be available, having my submissive can instead be required to tell me every time they orgasm.

It's invasive and gives me more information about their habits, and it's extremely hot. Easy to enforce and easy to fuck up for small funish/punishments for those who enjoy those while also a suitable challenge for those who want to prove themselves and never fail their Superior.

But to start? No more than 8 rules when starting out; 10 is a bit of an overshoot you don't always have to reach, especially since it can be hard to come up with rules that aren't cumbersome or annoying. It's easy for things to get overwhelming.

As far as play goes with a sub in a high protocol situation, it all about the subtle control for me. Sly glances met with docile submission—little reminders of their position in contrast to my own. As well as the occasional arbitrary task or other.

Bringing hypnosis into it, it becomes a lot deeper of a bond. That kind of trust, to give someone control over you with a high protocol mindset is a lot of power. As long as you have well practiced agency, it's very fun although can still require careful management by the Tist.

For a smaller scene, there's a lot more you can reasonably get into with it. So I like to do my HP in sprints rather than marathons if that makes sense.

It takes two to tango regardless. So always make sure to vet (aka get to know and discern if they're a safe/good match for you) people before you get into anything too deep. Talk to them and learn about them for weeks at the least for that kind of level of surrender.

Not only for your own safety, but because you are want to be sure they can handle the kind of play you want without taking shortcuts that could spiral out of control.

High protocol has never been a very flashy affair as far as I'm concerned. It's quiet and intense, but often simple. So you don't really need to dig too deep to find satisfaction in your role.

#hypnosis #hypnok1nk #mind control #ask #anon ask #high protocol #good question

26 notes · View notes

flawseer · 11 months ago

Text

Mail Call #2

Responding to messages from @haycoat-art, @plusultrayokai, @snickerzanddoodlez, @rurikredwolf, @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not

Sorry for reusing the same image as last time. With the Smaugust drawing challenge going on right now, I'm a little exhausted drawing-wise, otherwise I would have probably put an image of Tsunami whacking me over the head with a mail bag or something.

Thank you for the compliment. It's a cool and colorful style. I do dearly hope though that I'm managing to add a bit of my own spin to it, and am not just ripping him off wholesale.

That would certainly be very convenient, especially considering the situation that many Seawings grow up under, which is that there is a high chance for any given tooth to eventually be claimed by a violent monarch.

On the positive side, this means Seawings can probably go into business selling dentures.

I do enjoy Chameleon as a character.

Chameleon's story is very tragic and unfortunate, though he also caused a significant amount of problems. I would like to get into a deeper examination of what I think makes him tick, the things that were done to him and what he did to others in turn. Like, more in-depth than what is possible in a simple response like this.

I actually started writing that and I have a first draft ready, but I'd like to iron out some of the bumps first before I put that anywhere public. Provided that that's a thing people would be interested to see.

Nope. I do not have a discord server.

I'm actually kind of difficult to talk to, at least directly, so I can't imagine there to be many people who'd find that appealing. I'm a bit reclusive at the best of days, so even getting me to say anything without asking direct questions can be a trial.

Managing an online community is also a very time- and energy-consuming affair that would probably eat heavily into my ability to create content. So it's likely for the best that I don't.

I primarily use Krita for my drawings.

#flawseer reply

91 notes · View notes

satocidal · 2 years ago

Text

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * “Parent Teacher Meeting” — Toji Fushiguro

Synopsis: Toji Fushiguro was not exactly the father you expected to meet when he showed up for his kids’ (aka Megumi’s) parent teacher meeting—especially not when you find yourself being the one punished for bothering him by wanting to talk about Megumi’s behaviour.

— Word Count: 1.9k

— A/n: Based on this ask here by @misaki-the-lotusflower . Thank you so much for requesting sweets<3 and uh- dilf toji? Yes please

— Warnings: AFAB! reader; MDNI!! Porn without much plot; toji is a bitch; slightly naive reader?; cursing; name calling (slut, whore, etc); age gap(?)—reader is in her mid twenties and toji in mid thirties; face slapping; mutual masturbation; degradation; oral (male receiving!); not proof read, might have typos

He was late—you huffed in annoyance.

After 8 tries of trying to schedule a meeting with him, the least you could expect was the insolent man to show up on time—he was a good kid, Megumi but a genuine concern flashed you everytime his behaviour came to check.

A hefty talk with a parent was always the way to go, it was useful to say the least—but it was well past half an hour that the school had ended and he still hadn’t shown up—and as a teacher, things like this made were sure to infuriate you. After all, no wonder Megumi Fushiguro acts up.

Your eyes bummed onto Megumi and Tsumiki—contrasting, they both stood and yet so similar, a sincere smile you passed them—fingers reaching out for the fifth time to call the concerned man.

“No need to call me again,” his voice deep—the first thing you noted, then his hair and face, Megumi was an exact replica in most sense of the word. He wasn’t very old— and whatever age he carried, he did it well—certainly appealing to your eyes.

Megumi’s distasteful expression could never go ignored by you—but you passed a thin smile, pressed—“After noon sir,”

“Fushiguro’s fine—or Toji, if you prefer,”

A nod you passed, “Mr. Fushiguro,”

“I prefer Toji,” your jaw clenched, released as you looked at the kids—ignoring his comment you smiled, “can you guys give us just a couple minutes? We’ll be done soon,”

And ever the lively kid, Tsumiki was quick to pull Megumi out with her, a pleasant smile—all so different from the man who sat across you.

“Mr. Fushiguro,” you began—“You’ve an issue by taking my name woman?”

Your blood boiled, lips pursed, you stared at him.

“Excuse you sir?” Your words were steely- firm, any other person would’ve noted onto your frustration and beckoned it—Toji Fushiguro? That was a new challenge you’d seemingly encountered.

“Cut the ‘sir’ bullshit—what do you want?”

Head tilted to your side, you stared at him—“Your son’s behaviour, Mr.Fushiguro,” you stared into his eyes, emerald just like Megumi’s—gorgeous, really.

“He’s a nice kid, good student and he’s fine at academics too—”

“—is he?” The man drew out, a subtle smirk resting on his face.

You looked at him confused—“I mean with that slutty skirt of yours?” Your mouth hung open—ears burning and embarrassment fresh upon your face—“But then he’s a kid, it doesn’t matter right? It’s for men like me isn’t it?”

From ears to your face, slowly it spread—flushing all over.

A denial lay loose on your lips, unsure—you felt dirty from his mere words—he chuckled.

“Mr Fushiguro I assure you that’s not the sort of language-”

“-shut up,” he snapped, another grin—wolffish this time, hungry as if—“I’ll keep it short and simple for you, I’m sending my kid here because I can’t deal with him. He’s your responsibility,” he paused letting his words process, “next time you call me, I’ll fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk—let alone talk,”

Mind a mess, you stared at him—bewildered, not a single part of it was unserious, you knew and yet, even threatened you couldn’t help the certain feeling of need emerging, sprouting in you.

“You can’t- I- sir this isn’t…” your words fumbled, his mere gaze piercing enough—“what?” He promoted once and you were putty in your seat.

“You can’t talk to me like that- I’m a teacher for fuck’s sake-” you internally cursed at the outbreak, but regret lay a thin line—“well in all particularity, you can’t wear such clothes either,” eyes gazed down—it wasn’t all so bad, per se.

But it just passed the dress code so it wasn’t much better either—a sheer white blouse and black slacks that defined your figure—it was all so intentional, but nothing bad when the context be the kids you taught.

But then again, Toji wasn’t a middle schooler—and his eyes were seemingly stuck onto your chest.

“Nor is the way you just talked the protocol, is it?”

Your face burned all the more—Toji knew the effect he had, all so evident in the way your thighs were pressed together, face flushed at his words and lip bitten all so cute—he knew you liked it.

“Now,” he paused, getting a look at your desk to catch your name, “Y/n,” he grinned and you couldn’t help the butterflies emerging in your stomach as he did so—“You know what would happen if I complained? To your authorities?”

Blood running dry, you coughed out a “excuse me?”

His grin only widened, “You’ve pissed me off woman, calling me these many times—even the whores I fuck and leave don’t bother so much,”

And in the moment, he could see the discomfort on your face—a roll of the eye, he softened, “I won’t call your mistake out alright?” He smiled—as if treating you a miracle—even when you had no mistake in particular, “But I do want something in turn for it,”

Eyes narrowing in confusion, you paused, “money?”

A laugh he barked out, “Had money been an issue I wouldn’t have wasted my time with you doll,” he smirked, “just need you to use your tongue the right way,”

A deep pit seemed to have dropped on you—you stared at him, dumbfounded.

He stared back—hands moving slow as he pushed his chair back, an invitation

“It’s either this or losing that pretty job,” and in that particular moment, you lied to yourself, that all of this—propping yourself on your knees between his thighs—you looked at him through hooded eyes, a slight pout on your lips.

“You’re shameless,” you whisper, staring at the tent in his pants—he was huge, he raised a brow, “says the slut on her knees for me,” he chuckled—“Sucking your students’ dads—is that what you do Hm?” A soft hand caressed your cheek as his eyes bore into yours—contrary to his degrading words.

But you stayed quiet—nimble fingers working fast, any and every pretence dropped as you focused eagerly upon the hook of his best, pulling carefully the zipper down.

And there it was, you smiled, it was hard—it’s tip leaking with precum and you passed him a knowing smile, proud of your affect upon—the moment lasting only so long before you felt his hands grab your hair.

His grip was rough—a yank, hard, and your face was at level with his cock—salivating you stared.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, voice gruff as he stared down at you—“beg for it like the whore you are,”

He was all so mean, with the way his foot nudged at your clothed cunt—with the way he pushed your body a little —“please,” you whispered, desperate.

“Please let me ah!-” a cry you let you as his hand came crashing onto your cheek swiftly, sharp—“that’s the best you’ve got?”

You felt tears at the brink of your eyes, “Please,” you began again, voice breaking—perhaps it was the tension that did so, “please let me suck your dick Toji—mm!” Words interrupted by just another slap—“Ah ah ah,” his tongue clicked at your mistake.

“Who’s Toji baby? Mr.Fushiguro, right?” You gulped and sniffled at his words, “Yes,” you but your lip, a pout resting there soon—“Please let me suck your dick Mr.Fushiguro,” expectant eyes encouraged you for more—“Wanna- wanna make you feel good, wanna taste you,”

And just then he snickered, pulling your head hard towards his base, “Open yoour mouth slut- tongue out,”

You followed numbly, instantly—tongue plopped out for him as you stared at him with big eyes, “Such a good pet,” he groaned—same hands caressing your head as he slapped his cock on your tongue—plop-plop-plop—until thick fingers squeezed your mouth open suddenly shoving his entire length into your mouth.

Every groan gagged by his thick length, you could only let your tears out as he abused the back of your throat, pulling your hair in a messy ponytail—and shoving you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

You could hear him groaning loudly, carelessly—after all your reputation barely mattered to him, “Fu-ck so eager for my dick, my pet,” you continued moving your mouth around him, experimenting hesitantly.

A roll off your tongue around the sensitive tip and simple, swift suck at it too—a moan he let out.

Your eyes shot up, fascinated as he chuckled—“hmm~? Is this what you want? my taste? the way i stretch your mouth?”

You nodded to his words, ready to seek his pleasure.

“you can’t keep your mouth off of me can you? Some teacher” a scoff he passed, the embarrassment you felt never truly stopped.

Broken moans fell from his mouth—and obscenities that would have you hurling but you loved it, loved the way he feel apart for you.

“Wanted you- ah…” another suppressed moan, “since the day I saw you in that fuckin’ sundress—always dressing like a cockslut aren’t ya?”

You could feel the wetness between your legs grow—begging to be touched, desperate.

“Wearing all these skirts—just ready to be fingered yeah?” The pressure he applied on your head increased as you gagged—daring not once to pull away, hair and makeup ruined minutes ago.

You could tell he was close—in the way he twitched, in the way groans and insults had suppressed into breathy moans.

You looked pretty though, hair disheveled, and lipstick all over your lips and his cock—a pretty mess of his.

A needy, desperate mess for him, especially in the way your fingers—laying bare for Toji was fully face-fucking you then, broken and choked out cried you let out—fingers inching towards your throbbing pussy.

You needed it—he did too.

“Don’t touch,” a warning, “not until I tell you to,” your movements came to a hault—a ‘ok’ you whispered as pulled away from your warm mouth—hands pumping his own cock fast.

“Remove the blouse,” he was close—so very close—“now,”

Shirt lay unbuttoned half way when he stopped your frenzied movements, “cup your boobs,” a confused glance you would’ve passed had you had the chance—but a glare from him lay more than enough to continue.

Tired your fingers felt as they moved to grab your boobs together—squeezing them, pressing them how you imagined he would, you sat there kneeling before him.

“Shit—you’re so fucking pretty,” he groaned, voice breaking as his head hung back, pushing his own climax—“pinch yourself,” and so you did without hesitation.

It was simply erotic, the sheer image of you two, your mouth hung open too—in the pleasure the pain provided you—“touch yourself,” he moaned then.

And just what you needed then for you found yourself touching yourself through your pants—applying just the pressure you needed—so wet.

Filthy—in the way the sound of his hand pumping his cock—flesh on flesh; your moans and his filled the room.

“C’mere” he growled—and you did, closer to him, musky his scent—you were so close, just a little more and—

A gasp you let out as sticky, white hot mess he spilled on you—your boobs and neck and face—cum spilling out in thick ropes as he pumped.

And just at that—you came too, mouth hung open as you traversed your high—it felt the best it ever had, under his panting gaze.

A series of sweet nothings he provided you, putting your head as you settled back—a frown on your lips and a chuckle on his own.

“Get decent,” he commanded and your frown deepened further—“you’ve got plenty of kids for me to fuck you anyways,”

A roll of your eyes as you too, beside him started getting dressed—“and anyways,” he grinned, “I’m sure gumi’s gonna act up soon,”

A sharp slap on your ass and a squeeze and just like that he was leading his way out as non-chalantly as he entered.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

Taglist: @4sat0ruu @illogicallyx @rizzmin @lavendervogh @kazoomas @spaceisfarfarawayy @gojoismybitch

426 notes · View notes

kikyoupdates · 8 months ago

Text

Bloodthirst ⭑˚💋⭑ 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠

bnha x vampire!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, my vampire!reader, slowburn

As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.

previous | story masterlist | next

I have no idea what’s going on.

Not that it came as much of a surprise, but a different world really was, well... different. You could hardly make sense of what you were seeing. It was so much more heavily populated than what you were used to. Everywhere you looked, people were scurrying about left and right. There were crowds upon crowds of them, and you could tell based on their scent that all of them were humans.

Back where you were from, humans were considered a lesser species. Not in terms of value—all lives were meant to be valued equally—but in terms of their strength. Compared to vampires, orcs, elves, so on and so forth... humans were much less physically capable. That was why most lands were governed by higher powers, such as your home kingdom, which was ruled by vampires. The strong were meant to protect the weak. So long as there was no abuse of power, the weaker species were content to know that they were being looked out for. In return for being protected from more sinister forces, the humans would exchange safe amounts of their blood in order to sustain the vampires. It was a fair arrangement. After all, if they truly wanted to, vampires could take more blood than they needed to by simple force, but there was an unspoken agreement that existed between both parties.

Needless to say, you’d violated that agreement—hence your banishment.

But setting that aside, you now found yourself in a world where the dominant species were the humans. At least, that was probably the case in whatever city or land you currently found yourself in. Perhaps things were different elsewhere, but you didn’t have enough information to go off yet.

This wasn’t ideal, for more reasons than one, but the biggest one being that the scent was practically overwhelming.

Everywhere you walked or turned, you seemed to bump into yet another human. It hadn’t been very long since you’d last had blood, which was fortunately a relief, but it was clear that this was going to take a lot of getting used to. You couldn’t very well just lunge at someone without warning, after all. The whole reason behind your banishment was that you were meant to get your bloodthirst under control.

Did vampires even exist in this world? You had no way of knowing. It would be somewhat comforting if they did. You still needed to figure out your living situation, after all. God, and you didn’t even know where to start.

You lifted your head to the sky, squinting through the sunlight. Contrary to most vampires, you didn’t mind the sun all that much. Depending on the individual, their sensitivity to sunlight varied. Your parents and grandparents didn’t much care for it, and preferred to avoid it as much as possible. This was the case for some of your other relatives as well. Fortunately, you had always been sturdy, even for a vampire. You would probably be fine for the most part, although prolonged exposure sometimes had a tendency to make you rather sluggish.

Either way, finding a place to live took precedence. You needed to figure out exactly how you were meant to survive here.

All you could really do was wander around aimlessly. There was certainly a lot of chatter; it was practically constant. It didn’t seem like you were having any trouble understanding the language however, even though it was almost certainly different from your native tongue. Then again, vampires were prone to assimilating information rather quickly. Hearing it for the first time had already burrowed its way into your brain. Or perhaps this was some sort of side effect of the transportation spell that had brought you here in the first place.

All the better, though. The last thing you needed right now was to fail pathetically at any attempt of communication.

You walked and walked, doing your best not to let yourself get too overwhelmed. These humans were certainly different than the ones you were used to, though. Their appearances varied quite significantly, and some of them even appeared to be a sort of mix between person and beast. They were still humans, though. Their scent confirmed that. It was truly strange.

On top of all that was the fact that there was so much you didn’t recognize about the place you found yourself in. Nearly everywhere you looked, there was some strange type of technology that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around. Almost every single human was carrying some sort of handheld device that they would talk into or repeatedly tap on the screen with their fingers. Was it a magical device of some kind? You caught a glimpse walking past a few people, and the device was displaying all sort of complex images and moving pictures. It almost looked like other humans were trapped inside of those devices.

You really had nothing to guide you as things stood, so all you could really do was marvel every time you saw something new, jaw unhinged.

Then all of a sudden, you heard screaming.

“Stop that man! He’s stolen my purse!”

It was some elderly woman who’d been knocked to the ground. Tears streaked her expression, and she kept on crying out as she pointed off in the distance, towards a man who was running full-speed ahead and presumably carrying the stolen purse. He was a rotten thief, it seemed like. No world was free of crime, and it went without saying that would hold true of this place as well.

You had done a bad thing to land yourself here. You’d lost control and gravely injured someone who was very dear to you. No. Even if they hadn’t been your friend, you still shouldn’t have allowed yourself to take things that far. You were being punished, and rightfully so. But if you were going to be stuck here, meant to reflect on your wrongdoings and take steps towards fixing them, then you could probably start by doing a good deed.

So, you ran after the thief. You were physically strong and athletic. Even the weakest of vampires were still stronger than the average human. Although the man was sprinting with all his strength, you managed to catch up to him in almost no time flat.

His brows jumped when he noticed you appear next to him. “The hell do you want?!” he snapped angrily. “Are you a hero, or what?”

You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at, but before you could even begin to construct a response, he lifted a hand up and clawed at you. As in, quite literally clawed. His nails, which had been perfectly trimmed and normal a few moments ago, suddenly turned sharp as knives. He slashed right at you, and since you were so caught off guard, you couldn’t evade the attack completely. He was able to slice across your shoulder, making your skin split and blood soak through the fabric of your sleeve.

Ouch!

It certainly hurt. You were strong, but that didn’t make you immune to pain by any means. Still, you didn’t allow yourself to be deterred. This man was committing a crime, and after all the horrible things you’d done, the least you could do was follow through and put a stop to it.

Gritting your teeth at him and resisting the urge to bite into his neck, you clenched your hand into a fist.

You punched him, and it hit hard enough to knock him to the ground. He was clearly dumbstruck. In his momentary confusion, his nails turned back to normal, and you took advantage of his confusion to land a kick that pummeled him against the ground even harder.

He was unconscious now, so you grabbed the purse from his loosened grip and slung it across your uninjured shoulder. Then you made your way back towards the elderly woman that it belonged to, ignoring the wide-eyed looks everyone else was giving you.

“Here you are,” you said, smiling at her. Even you were surprised by how natural you sounded speaking in this foreign tongue. You placed the purse into her hands, waiting patiently to make sure that she wasn’t hurt.

She stood up on shaky legs, but returned your smile. “Oh, goodness! Thank you, dear. But... you’re hurt! You’re bleeding quite a lot. Are you alright? You should go to the hospital immediately!”

“I’m fine,” you reassured. It was the truth. Sure, you were injured, but your body’s natural regenerative abilities were impressive. With a bit of time, it would heal up as good as new. It was a relatively shallow wound, after all.

People were still staring at you, which you supposed was to be expected, considering you’d just beat the crap out of someone. But instead of being met with judgmental looks or visible nervousness, they broke out into cheers.

“Good job, miss!”

“That was so cool! You’re stronger than you look, huh?”

“Are you training to become a hero? With that power, you totally could!”

They kept on mentioning heroes. Was it some sort of profession in this world? As in, a person who fought for justice, against no-good criminals like the one you’d just apprehended?

If so... then perhaps that was exactly the sort of thing you should devote yourself to. Protecting others would be the perfect way to prove to your family that you were worthy of being accepted back into the family.

So, you smiled towards the crowd. “I haven’t given it much thought, but becoming a hero sounds nice. I’ll have to look into it.”

You left before they could ask you any other questions. It was nice to have a goal, and you would certainly do a bit more research regarding this, but your number one concerned still hadn’t been addressed. You needed to find a place to live, and that also meant that at some point, you would have to consume blood in order to fend off starvation.

You carefully rubbed at your bloody shoulder, wincing a bit from the pain. At the very least, you should probably wrap it up in a bandage or something. You would need to find some sort of basic first aid. Then again... you had no money. You didn’t even know what currency this world used.

No closer to addressing your most pressing issue than you’d been earlier, you decided that there was nothing you stood to lose if you kept on walking. Perhaps this hero profession that everyone kept gushing about paid well too. If so, you could obtain the money you needed to secure a roof over your head. You wondered if it was the sort of thing you could sign up for immediately.

For a while, you were lost in thought. You considered stopping some random person on the street and inquiring more about the job. Or maybe you should have stuck around a bit longer and had a proper conversation with those people that had watched you take down that thief.

But before you could properly deliberate your options, you stopped dead in your tracks. There was a scent. Someone close nearby smelled absolutely amazing.

You knew this was really the last thing you should be worrying about right now. Your family had kicked you out in order to fix your bloodthirst, yet here you were again, already acting on it.

I’m not going to drink their blood or anything. I’m just... curious, that’s all. Yeah. I just want to see with my own eyes who could possibly smell that good.

You clearly had a long way to go before getting your problems under control, because you were practically salivating as you surged in the direction of the sugary sweet scent. It was easily the most delicious-smelling blood you’d ever happened upon. Was this a common theme with the humans of this world?

If so, then... yeah. Your willpower was definitely going to be put to the test.

As it turned out, the person who’d caught your attention was a young boy with curly hair and cutely freckled cheeks. He looked to be about your age, probably a teenager. He was also reading from some sort of notebook as he walked and quietly muttering to himself, so lost in thought that he was completely disregarding his surroundings.

Needless to say, he walked right into a pole.

“Ow!” the boy whined, cradling his forehead, which already had an angry pink blemish forming. He shook it off quickly enough though, and he clearly hadn’t learned from what had just happened, because he buried his nose in the notebook again right away.

It was a funny thing to see, and also rather cute. Your interest had been piqued. Not only by his blood, which had so entranced you, but his endearing mannerisms as well.

You figured you had nothing to lose by striking up a conversation with him.

“Um... excuse me?”

The boy must not have realized you were talking to him, because he just kept on walking and muttering things to himself. Chuckling inwardly, you decided to walk next to him and see how long it took for him to take notice of you. It actually took quite a while before his eyes momentarily drifted from the pages of his notebook, and only then did he realize you were walking shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“Eek!” he squealed, jumping back as if he’d seen a ghost. “Oh, u-um... sorry about that,” he hastily apologized. His cheeks were fiercely red, for some reason. “I-I didn’t realize I was getting in your way. I must not have been paying attention...”

You merely smiled. “No need to apologize. You weren’t getting in my way at all. I’m the one who decided to walk next to you.”

“Huh? Oh...” He appeared confused, but his confusion was quickly replaced with concern once his green eyes landed on your injury. “Y-You’re bleeding!” he spluttered frantically. “Oh no! What happened?! I-It looks like it hurts a lot. Are you feeling dizzy or anything? Are you sure you’re okay to walk on your own?”

“This is nothing,” you waved off. “I fought with some thief earlier that had stolen a lady’s purse. He managed to take me by surprise and cut me up a bit, that’s all.”

“You fought with... a villain?”

His concern was still there, that was for sure, but some of it had melted away, and his expression was now primarily made up of awe. He was using another term you weren’t used to hearing so casually. Heroes and villains. Perhaps that was how this world classified the good people versus the bad? Criminals were just criminals, but you supposed they could certainly be described as wrongdoers—or villains—as well.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.

The boy was now beaming at you unabashed. “Wow!” he grinned, momentarily overcoming his seemingly timid nature. “That’s incredible! You look like you’re around my age, but you’re already taking on villains like it’s no problem? You must be planning to become a hero, right?”

Ah, right. This was something you wanted to ask about anyways.

“Can I become a hero right away?” you asked. “I kind of need the money.”

His shoulders slumped a bit. “Huh? Oh... not exactly. You need to train for a while and pass some exams to obtain your professional license. I’m surprised you don’t know that, though. Most people that want to become heroes are pretty familiar with what needs to be done. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Ah! We’re the same age.” He paused for a moment, the blush from earlier quickly returning. “S-Sorry! I just started bombarding you with questions out of nowhere. You’re hurt, so you probably need to be getting home to deal with that. Or maybe even the hospital? It’s bleeding quite a bit...”

You scratched your head. “Yeah, that won’t work.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I don’t have a home.”

“You don’t... what?”

“I’m homeless,” you said simply.

His eyes bulged out of his head. “Homeless? But...” He looked you over up and down, and you realized quickly enough what the problem was. You didn’t look homeless, because you were still wearing the dress you’d arrived in. Technically, you were royalty, although you’d been officially stripped of that title for now. But your attire must have given off the impression of someone who was rather wealthy, even though what you were saying was the truth.

For now, you were homeless.

“I came from another world,” you decided upon. It was the truth, yet again, although clearly not easy to process, if the bewildered look he gave you was anything to go off.

He lifted his hand up in protest. “S-Sorry,” he blinked. “I’m not good at picking up on sarcasm or when people are making jokes. Is this some sort of reference that I’m just not getting, or...?”

Yeah. You’d figured it wouldn’t be this easy. Officially, you didn’t feel the need to hide your unique circumstances, but getting people to believe you was a different matter altogether. How else could you explain yourself, though? You were a fourteen-year-old girl dressed head to toe in luxurious clothes, but you didn’t home a home to return to. Not only that, but you weren’t a human like him or the rest of the people in this world.

Even though the boy was struggling to make head or tails of what you were saying, you decided to press on. You weren’t sure why exactly, but you had a good feeling about him. The frantic look in his eyes when he’d realized you were hurt, his innocent reactions at just about anything, and on top of that, his sweet-smelling blood. Sometimes, someone’s scent was enough to give you insight as to what kind of person they were.

He had a sweet, gentle fragrance, and you imagined it was that way for a reason.

You half-chuckled. “I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but I’m not making things up. I really did come from a different world. Or... I was kicked out of it, more specifically. And now I’ve got no place to go. That’s why I’m homeless. My family banished me here, and I have no idea what to do.”

The boy’s eyes were gradually softening. Whether he believed you or simply felt sorry for you because he felt you were making up some grandiose lie, you couldn’t tell. But you knew that his concern was genuine. That much was clear.

“U-Um, okay,” he swallowed. “Do you... need someone to talk to? This is a lot to take in, but you seem pretty serious...”

“That would be great!” you grinned. “If you have the time to spare, I’d really appreciate it. There’s so much about this world that I just don’t understand. An explanation would really help. I’m [Name], by the way. What can I call you?”

“Oh... Midoriya Izuku,” he replied, still looking a touch uncertain.

“You're giving me your full name? Which is your first name, and which one is the last?”

“Ah, Izuku is my first name, and Midoriya is my last name.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You... really aren’t from here, are you? At the very least, it doesn’t seem like you’re from Japan...”

“Japan? What’s that?”

Izuku looked like his head was spinning. Based on how candidly you were asking your questions, it was probably starting to dawn on him that you really didn’t have a damn clue as to where you were.

But there was another problem too. For some reason, you were starting to feel awfully faint. Normally, a small injury like this wouldn’t have been enough to give you such a hard time, but you were growing weaker by the second. Something was wrong.

Is it... because it’s an unfamiliar environment? It feels like all my strength is leaving me. Shit... my entire body is starting to burn up...

“[N-Name]? Are you okay?”

You were even starting to stagger in place. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, you were overcome by a sensation of being weak and helpless. It wasn’t a completely foreign feeling. You’d felt it before, countless times, as a matter of fact.

This weakness... you needed to feed.

“Izuku,” you mumbled, lightly grabbing onto his shoulder. “Hey. So, I know we only just met and all... but would you mind letting me drink some of your blood?”

Izuku’s face turned pale.

“...Huh?!”

previous | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad !

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💋 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

happy halloween ! :)

81 notes · View notes

justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

Note

Would you be willing to do relationship hcs with any of the following from Blue Exorcist? :0

Juzo Shima, Satan, Shiro Fujimoto, Yuri Egin, Mephisto?

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! I hope you like the headcanons.

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Juzo Shima, Satan, Shiro Fujimoto, Yuri Egin, Mephisto Pheles x gn! Reader (separate)

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

General dating headcanons for the Blue Exorcist characters.

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

Juzo is an interesting balance between a super caring partner who would never hurt a fly and someone who would fight entire wars if you asked him to.

In the same vein, he’s more than willing to do anything you ask of him, even if it’s something as simple as getting rid of a bug.

A really good listener. Anything you want to talk about, he’s setting aside whatever he reasonably can to put all of his focus on you.

I feel like he can be a bit overprotective at times, even to the point of smothering you but if you ask him to back off and let you do your thing, he’ll respect your wishes.

Juzo just doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He’s already lost a lot of his friends and family to demons, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you too.

Satan’s a challenging one to write relationship headcanons for, mostly because the only “relationship” we ever saw him in was his obsession with Yuri. So I’ll try to write these as accurately as possible without making them completely toxic.

Very willing to learn from you and listen. He’s a curious being after all and, while the number of people he trusts or cares about is very small, he does value their opinions.

Definitely the kind of person (can I call him a person if he’s a demon?) to cherish quality time. He can be a bit clingy sometimes, but he just wants to spend time with the person he cares about most.

He’s also very into gift giving but be warned, his gifts may be a bit erratic at first. He’s sort of like a stray cat that’s taken a liking to you. You might end up with dead bugs and sticks beside your bed.

All of that being said, a relationship with Satan is almost certain to be toxic in some way shape or form. He’s never had a “normal” relationship and doesn’t know where to start since he doesn’t see anything wrong with his way of thinking.

Shiro is a lot like Juzo in that he’s got two sides to him in a relationship. And I don’t mean this in a bad way!

On one hand, he’s the most caring and protective partner you could hope for. He’s always paying attention to what you’re talking about and will do his best to support you in everything you do.

On the other hand, he will tease you mercilessly and play minor pranks at every possible moment. It’s one of his love languages.

Having said that, he respects you deeply and will always back off with his teasing if you’ve had a bad day or ask him to stop.

He’s also amazing at helping you relax after a long day. He’s drawing you a relaxing bath, adding some decorations (if the Vatican didn’t want him using those exorcism candles and salt for baths, why did they work so well for just that?) and cooking your favourite meal. It’s really the least he can do.

Yuri is a very caring partner. She was able to show kindness to Satan, even after everything he did so she’s certainly capable of caring deeply about someone so close to her.

She loves spending quality time with you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, as long as you’re able to sit together.

As part of this, she loves twining one leg around yours while you’re sitting together if that’s something you’re comfortable with.

She didn’t have the best childhood, so she does sometimes have doubts about your relationship. Just give her some words of reassurance (or acts of affection if words aren’t your thing) and she’ll be feeling better in no time.

Yuri would love it if you’re interested in exorcism. She’s got a lot she wants so talk about, especially regarding demons not being as bad as everyone makes them out to be, so please let her ramble about her thoughts.

Mephisto is an interesting case. If you’re in a relationship, that means you’ve caught his attention. And that means he’s going to protect you with all of his demonic powers.

However, sometimes he can seem as though he’s only with you because he sees you as a curiosity.

If this ever gets too much or you’re doubting the sincerity of your relationship, just tell him and he’ll set aside his piles of paperwork to talk to you about his behaviour.

He loves entertaining you with his magic, as well as going on fun dates. Mephy Land is always a hit and, since he owns the place, you’ll never have to pay for any of the food or rides.

He’s surprisingly attentive when you’re talking about your day. He wants to learn more about humans and their behaviours and what better way than to study the person he cares about most.

#writing #fanfic #headcanons #headcanon request #request #blue exorcist #blue exorcist x reader #juzo shima #juzo shima x reader #satan #satan x reader #shiro fujimoto #shiro fujimoto x reader #mephisto pheles #mephisto pheles x reader

174 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 years ago

Note

I am absolutely in love with mommy prehistoric reader😍🧎‍♀️.

Idk if you like the idea , but imagine someone coming to close to the twins. And mommy reader and pickle are carefully watching what happens. But when the person gets to close reader gives the baby’s to pickle. And then goes after the person who got to close with her babies. And simply beats the living crap out of them.🤭

(Also I am sorry about requesting so much mommy/pregnancy headcannons with a baddie mom)

The general consensus seems to be that prehistoric reader needs a comeback as a protective mother of 2 infants and multiple grown men. Makes a lot of sense and I’m here for it!

Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric Mother! Reader

Featuring Pickle, his challengers, and an aggressively protective ancient reader that has taken everyone under her (buff) wing.

You’ve always approached the men with a certain sense of fragility (to their shame and dismay), as if you needed to be extra careful not to break them. Pickle has fought them and tested their sturdiness himself, so he treats them without gloves like any creature of his status. You’re not as certain, especially now that you’ve become a mother.

It’s not just the hormones being all over the place, though the heightened oxytocin levels have certainly contributed to your peculiar attachment to the modern creatures. Holding the two little beings that have made their way out safe and healthy (despite being frozen for millennia, might I add), a certain kind of newfound protectiveness blooms within you. They will grown and go out into the world and face threats and dangers and you wish to serve as their guardian for as long as possible.

In fact, you’re now more than ever convinced of your purpose. You have no desire to showcase your strength unless with the purpose of assuring the safety of those around you. The power bestowed upon you is not for conquering worlds, but to fortify the walls around them.

So now it’s harder than ever to refuse your random acts of motherly care. Katsumi has fully resigned to his new role as he doesn’t have the heart to push you away. He already has two mothers, one extra won’t make any difference. Besides, if he lets you groom him he can hold and play with the worryingly muscular babies. He finds the twins entertaining and they’re equally amazed by his karate tricks.

Retsu accepts your affections with solemn silence. He doesn’t particularly care for the children, but he’s surprisingly patient with their shenanigans. He’s rather curious to see when their strength will overcome his.

To Pickle’s annoyance, Baki has started calling him ‘dad’ jokingly whenever you groom him or take care of him. You’re very protective of the young boy and despite managing to use simple sentences by now, you prefer to deter Yuujirou away with quick threatening growls.

Jack detests the public displays that you insist on, feeling as if he’s infantilized, though he’s rather hesitant to downright reject your service. Especially since the…incident.

In fact, all of them are tiptoeing around you in hopes that your instincts will cool down over time. They’ve had to witness firsthand what happens when someone disregards your boundaries. The stranger might’ve had good intentions, nonetheless the same in your eyes the moment they got too close to the twins. You didn’t say much, just placed the children in Pickle’s arms and dragged the clueless person to a quiet place nearby. Needles to say you returned alone.

The worst thing about the whole ordeal was your flaccid smile that never left your face. Most humans are so weak they don’t even elicit the slightest frown from you. It hadn’t even registered in your head as a fight. The men gulped in unison and just minded their business for the rest of the day. Being groomed is a small price to pay if it saves them from your anger.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki x reader #pickle baki #pickle x reader

711 notes · View notes

boyfriendtodeathconfessional · 2 months ago

Note

By now I've made plenty of posts about Ren, so at the risk of looking like a simp, I'm going to explain why he unquestionably wins the long term battle royale. Let me specify, I am not saying Fox would beat every other character in the BTD-verse. I'm saying every version of Ren Hana clears with little challenge. If I were a gambler, I would put a hypothetical retirement fund on him winning. I will stand ten toes down on his victory for one simple attribute of his that I never see mentioned: luck.

At first, this may seem like a strange claim. How could Ren possibly be considered lucky? According to him, his family hates him. He wasn't able to find a companion despite all his efforts. He was kidnapped and tortured for months on end by Strade. These are all certainly bad things. Yet when we zoom out and get a broader context for what happened, his luck becomes clear.

First off, he's a fox beastkin and his lineage was frequently mistaken for kitsune. In Japanese Shinto belief, kitsune are messengers of the god Inari and are bringers of luck and good fortune. Gato and the rest specifically said his family was believed to be kitsune. Considering foxes are considered lucky in Japan by extension, this hardly seems like a coincidence. "Okay, big deal," you might say while rolling your eyes, "So he looks like something that's lucky, what difference does it make?" I'd like to remind everyone that Ren was the first of his mother's children she decided to keep alive. My boy was cheating death before he even got out of the cradle.

We learned that he ran away to Canada from Japan at a very young age. By himself. Possibly not knowing English. This alone would be impressive, but by the time Strade finds him, he's doing a lot better than one would expect a 5'1" teenage runaway would be doing. He's clearly found a way to keep himself fed, he's clean, has on decent clothes, and he's in a stable enough position to score a date! Sure, his date stood him up, which led to Strade finding him, but given how long he's lived in Canada by himself, it's a miracle he didn't run into someone like Strade even sooner.

And then there's his meetup with Strade. This may be a point of contention for some, but Ren made it out of Strade's clutches... remarkably well. Bear in mind, Strade was fully intending to kill Ren, and just by a stroke of luck(!) he decides to collar Ren instead. I can't stress how crazy this is to me. Strade has made so many people beg and cry for their lives that it's literally his online handle, and Ren manages to be the one person who actually convinces him?! Add to it, Strade bleeds out in front of Ren without Ren having to do anything. He not only outlives Strade, doesn't get any of the guilt he could have had for killing him. He gets all of Strade's info for his logins, his bank accounts, his car, his house, and the neighbors just believe Ren whenever he gives them a flimsy ass justification for why he's there!

When he gets to become Fox, he not only ends up as a snuff streamer, he ends up as the biggest snuff streamer of all time. Even hardened criminals and killers fall in line when he wants them to. He runs an operation that possibly spans multiple countries. He has his very own auctions. His work has far and away eclipsed Strade's, and he does it all without fear of the police.

Now with all this being said, who could possibly stand a challenge against Ren Hana?

Lawrence: He got bamboozled by Ren not once but twice in BTD2. He poses a greater risk to himself than anyone. In TPOF, he just fucks off to the bottom of a lake and waits for the river to claim him. Good luck putting up a fight as a skeleton, dummy. Point goes to Ren.

Strade: 0. Ren: 1. Nuff said.

Celia/Derek: I'm lumping them together, as Ren could easily expose Celia or Daddy Goffard for their twisted tastes. Once he does, it's all over. Full scale investigation into their businesses. Assets seized. Accounts frozen. Ledes and Goffards are personae non grata. No one will miss them.

Mason: Mountain Bear walks the walk on his home turf, but he's impatient. Beyond setting up a couple traps, he lacks the ability to plan. All it will take is him coming to Fox in the city, and Fox's thugs will help him get real acquainted with nature. Last camping trip he'll ever take will be six feet underground.

-☢️

#boyfriend to death #boyfriendtodeath #btd #tpof #the price of flesh #strade #ren hana #lawrence oleander #fox tpof #Celia Lede #Mason Heiral #Derek Goffard #I like the way you think ☢️... but I raise you this:#Was Ren truly Strade's first captive? If so is the second collar he keeps an older model?#And... dots because I can't use commas... I would assume Mason be anything but impatient. But your point still stands even so #Mason is a hunter. He excels in that role. But the hunted?#He's so big... where could he possibly hide?

21 notes · View notes

littleakito · 6 months ago

Note

hi ^^ cgs wxs and regressor Rui headcanons? Specifically when he slips in the middle of practice for a new show.. bc he’s been rlly stressed lately

🤖﹐LiTTLE! RUi﹕✦ CG! WxS

✩﹐🎶﹒

thank you so much for your request! I hope I did the little man justice✦!

✩﹐🎶﹒

1　 ﹒　Stress is a common fatigue for Rui, this can be said for anyone. Yet, there will always be moments where you just need an escape from it all. Will Rui ever willingly soothe himself and let himself escape from the pouring rain of stress? Haha..

2　 ﹒　Performing was always challenging for Rui, whether he was in a more adult-like mindset or not. It was meant to be, after-all, that’s the talent behind such a thing! Giving himself and the others challenging and extraordinary roles was just another part of being a director, you must push actors comfort zone for them to grow more familiar with much more distinct characters unlike them.

3　 ﹒　Greeting the others at evening practice was a little more difficult than Rui hoped for. Just this once, he stumbled over a few simple words, ones he had usually purred flawlessly. And, maybe he felt his heart drop in the slightest at the scrutinizing looks he received from Nene and Tsukasa in that moment, but so what?

4　 ﹒　Practice had started a little quicker than he had hoped, he had wanted to talk to the others a bit more without having to play pretend. He wanted to see Tsu’s big flashy smile and scrunched nose, Nene’s light sigh’s and small, encouraging looks; and Emu’s shaking hands from pure excitement, mixed with her tight hug that could knock a fully grown man over.

5　 ﹒　Beginning the scenes, Tsukasa had immediately jumped to light, followed by Nene, then… oh, it was his turn. He had missed it. Those looks were back, stronger than ever, might he add. Truly puzzling… it was as if they were suspecting him of something.

6　 ﹒　However, after a few mistakes, minor and major, Rui bit at his lip, and the others only grew more and more suspicious of him and his mannerisms. It certainly didn’t take long for one of them to ask, either.

7　 ﹒　Simple questions, filled with sweet words and a gentler tone than normal, ones asking about his messy, chopped hair. Others asking about his fidgety hands and lack of laughter and tease. One, having asked about his finger finding its way to his mouth, being bitten and sucked on.

8　 ﹒　A coo, and then a whisper, tugging away his hand, Tsukasa held it within his own, and Emu immediately jumped up, sparkles basically shimmering in her eyes as she suggested the SEKAI as a sweet retreat. Oh oh! And, we can’t forget an ACTUAL sweet TREAT, can we?!

9　 ﹒　Cuddled within the SEKAI, stuffed animals purring at his feet and giggling as he picked them up and held them close, the troupe members sat within each others arms, holding their little one the closest of them all.

It most certainly didn’t take long for practice to be called off.

✩﹐🎶﹒

For a few generic headcannons not quite following a story line…

1　 ﹒　Rui regresses from 2-5, more commonly leaning towards the younger ages. He can be rambunctious when he wants to be, but he prefers messing around with trinkets and cuddling his caregivers. Listening to stories are the best, especially when his caregivers act out the scenes with him, hehe.

2　 ﹒　He definitely hates being in public when little, no matter what. Even being slightly fuzzy can cause a panic attack from him.

3　 ﹒　It doesn’t take long before Rui’ll convince you to let him take apart the TV remote when little, he’s the best at puppy eyes, believe me!

✩﹐🎶﹒

thanks for your patience anon, I hope I meet your standards! I know very little about Rui besides his backstory being depressing and him being a silly little goober we all love<3 (this is a joke I know a fair amount about him haha.. silly guy!)

41 notes · View notes

nanowrimo · 2 years ago

Text

4 Ways To Cure Writer’s Block

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. NovelPad, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a novel drafting software designed to make it easy for writers to write. Today, they're sharing a few tips to help you beat writer's block:

NovelPad loves NaNoWriMo because we have the same goal: Helping authors get the thing done!

Starting a book is usually fun and easy—your fingers dance across the keyboard as you explore an exciting world, meet your characters, and stir up intrigue for the coming plot. But once you get into the weeds of how that all works, and how you and your characters get from Point A to Point B, you might find yourself losing momentum. You might find yourself so encumbered with obstacles that you might get a case of the dreaded writer’s block.

The very good news is that writer’s block isn’t terminal, and I certainly don’t think writer’s block is as enigmatic as some people seem to think. I believe it’s actually quite a simple problem, and usually due to one of a few common factors. Let’s look at four ways you can push yourself through your case of ye olde block.

1. Check in with yourself.

Step one is always to check in with yourself.

Start by reviewing your basic self-care needs:

Are you staying hydrated?

Do you feel hungry?

Would a shower or a nap be beneficial?

Is it time for a walk or some stretching exercises?

Consider your environment as well. Maybe you need:

Noise-canceling headphones

A change of scenery

A babysitter or someone to help around the house

To open or close some windows

Next, evaluate your level of focus. Is your mind wandering elsewhere? It can be useful to create a "dump list" to jot down anything that's causing you stress, such as work-related issues, pending tasks, or upcoming events. Setting that list aside can give you the tangible feeling of pushing those things off your desk to worry about later.

Once your body, mind, and environment are sorted out, you'll likely discover that writing becomes a bit easier!

2. Look back at where you’ve been.

Even if the first tip did or did not do the trick, let’s take a look at the project itself.

Sometimes writer’s block is a blessing in disguise! Your creative gut might be telling you that something went awry. Try reading your project back and pinpointing where it became difficult to keep going. Consider alternate plots or paths to get your writing flowing again.

If you're managing multiple plots and subplots, identifying the moment you deviated from the main path can be quite challenging. To pinpoint which plot line is causing issues, you can take advantage of NovelPad's handy feature: Plot tracking.

On the Plot Board, you can review every scene of a particular plot in order, making spotting those errors in your plotlines much easier.

3. Rewrite a problem scene.

Once you've identified the scene causing issues, it's time to make improvements! This can be challenging because there are countless ways to approach a scene.

However, don't hesitate to embrace revisions. Often, a scene benefits from a thorough rewrite. With NovelPad Revisions, you can save limitless scene revisions, compare them side by side, and effortlessly switch to the one they want in the live manuscript. This keeps your different versions safe, well-organized, and readily accessible.

4. Freewrite to free yourself.

Freewriting is a great way to get your creativity flowing again. Write some poetry, compose a letter to a friend, or simply let your thoughts flow without judgment. Freewriting without judgment can help turn on your writer mode and even help you solve some problems! It's especially beneficial when you're stuck on something specific, because we often find brilliant solutions when we stop being so critical of our ideas.

Kick writer’s block off your desk with NovelPad! It's free to use throughout NaNoWriMo, and we offer discounts to participants and winners afterward. If you find that NovelPad isn't your cup of tea by the end of November, don't worry—you can still access and download your project at any time. Just write!

Our team at NovelPad believes in making it easy for writers to complete their books. That’s why we built an uncomplicated, intuitive system that stays out of the way until you need it! We want writers like you to #JustWrite without burdening you with excessive features. Speaking of features, software updates at NovelPad are based entirely on user feedback from authors to keep our features sharp, relevant, and minimalist.

All NaNoWriMo participants have access to a 15% discount on NovelPad with code WRIMO2023 — use the code during checkout to redeem your discount. Offer expires April 1, 2024.

Top photo by Richard Dykes on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #writers block #writing advice #by nano sponsor #novelpad

217 notes · View notes

deliciouskeys · 1 year ago

Text

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂 AO3 link

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when he’s smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

ETA: now with another art piece by @olliveolly

#cozy corner domaystic #lol #butchlander #that’s not my neighbor au #homelander #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #fic #mystuff

87 notes · View notes