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#I LOVE being able to run all this alongside canon
pastafossa · 6 months
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Not an ask or a request - just wanted to send some love your way. I’m on my third reread of TRT and I’m so excited for new stuff but I’m also loving everything you’ve written so far. Thank you for giving us a window into characters and a world that lives off the page. Hope you are having a wonderful spring.
Love from NYC!!
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Thank you so, so much anon! 😭 I'm so happy you're enjoying it. I love widening the world, delving into all the chaos and adventures going on in this universe just outside of the canon narrative POV. There's just so much to explore, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it. I'm just as eager to get back into it, and I feel like I'm getting there, but the patience is still VERY much appreciated. Things were rough for a bit, but spring is definitely feeling like an improvement. <3
Much love back from my cold little city!
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animeshotsh · 8 months
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Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |
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Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...
Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |
When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.
"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.
Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.
Something was wrong, really wrong.
"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.
"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.
It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.
Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.
"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"
The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.
Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.
He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.
He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.
Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.
Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.
Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.
Or worse.
"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"
He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.
"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.
Or well, trying to.
"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.
Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.
"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"
"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes
~☆~☆~☆~
After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.
He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.
Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.
~☆~☆~☆
It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.
"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.
With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.
~☆~☆~
Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.
But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.
~☆~☆~
"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.
He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.
He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.
And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.
"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.
"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.
~☆~☆~
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literallyjusttoa · 3 months
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I have been obsessed with the idea of Paris coming to the modern day in the same way Midas, Lityerses, and Medea did. Like, If anybody had some unfinished business, it's every citizen of Troy. Anyway here are some different little scenarios I've cooked up about how this silly little war criminal fared after making a mad dash for the doors of death in HoO.
Ok, so in this scenario, Paris is recruited by Gaea just like all the other spirits who come back from the dead. He ends up being tasked with working alongside Octavian. At first, he's driven only by grief and anger at the loss of his own family and city. As they approach Camp Half-Blood, Paris regularly remarks on how happy he is that's he'll be the one storming the walls this time. But over time, he slowly finds himself growing worried about Octavian's sanity. He tries to steer Octavian away from making reckless decisions, but Octavian refuses to back down. Paris sees the deadly fervor of his fellow soldiers in Octavian, and pulls away. From here we split off into two endings. 1. (the sad one) Octavian's fate plays out the same as the books and Paris just has to deal with how his actions unintentionally spurred the young man towards his own death. Or 2. (the happy one) Paris leaving is the wake-up call Octavian needs, and he pulls himself out of battle at the last second, breaking the cycle of hatred and wrath that started at Troy. Pick your fighter I guess.
In this scenario, Paris is not the only one who comes back from the doors of death. Half of the Argo II crew find him in Ancient Greece (Don't ask why he's there instead of Turkey idk shhhhh) And he's very helpful to them in whatever quest they're trying to complete at the time. All's well that ends well, except the OTHER half of the Argo II crew actually just met up with Hector on the other side of Greece lol. Turns out neither brother knows the other is alive, and the Argo II take the time to reunite the pair. I would specifically set this in BoO, and have the focus be on Jason and Leo as parallels for Hector and Paris, especially with them both thinking about sacrificing themselves bc of the prophecy (the whole "storm or fire" thing). Like, my idea is that a lot of emphasis would be put on Hector dying first, and how he sacrificed for Troy, and how Paris wishes he could've saved Hector. And Jason would come away from that thinking "Yes, I want to be Hector, i've made peace with making the final sacrifice to keep my friends safe" and Leo thinking "I'll do what Paris couldn't and give my life so that Jason doesn't have to" and ahhhh angst.
This is a ToA scenario instead of an HoO scenario. Paris and one of his siblings come back to life like in the last one, but instead of it being Hector, this time it's Cassandra. Idk when this would happen in the timeline of ToA, bc those books are so tight knit (maybe the infamous TTT to TON roadtrip) But I would add a little side quest where Apollo and Meg have to find Cassandra bc Nero's trying to kidnap her or smth. They run into Paris while they're searching for Cassandra, and the three of them team up for a lil bit. In this scenario, Paris works as a direct parallel to Apollo, all though he's a bit further behind on his redemption journey. Basically, Apollo feels like he's looking at slightly embarrassing old pictures of himself. When they find Cassandra, Apollo offers a genuine apology for everything he did to her. Emboldened by Apollo's example, Paris also opens up to Cassandra in a way he'd never done before. The two are finally able to air out their shared grief from Troy, and they set out to ... idk New Rome or the Waystation or smth. Either way they're a lot closer as siblings now, and Apollo promises to visit them once the Trials are over.
Of course, these are only my ideas that kinda fit into canon, I have a whole bunch more that go entirely off the rails. Anyways this pathetic little failure of a man has bewitched my body and soul or whatever I love rolling him around like a balled up chewing gum wrapper.
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madelynraemunson · 6 months
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mini series
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GO BACK | NEXT LEVEL 🔒 | theme song: new divide - linkin park
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player zero: level one
ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴛᴀQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ — ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴ — ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ (ᴠʀ) ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱ ᴠᴇɢᴀꜱ ꜱᴘʜᴇʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ꜱʜᴏᴡ.
I remember black skies, the lightning all around me.
disclaimers: 18+, psychological thriller, blood, violence, sexual themes, swearing, reader interacts with the st characters, eddie falls for reader who goes by “zero/000, player zero”, reader’s gender identity isn’t specified but does have a vagina, unintentional plot divergence, upside down exists, vecna/001/henry exists, everything is basically canon until reader shows up… 😳, joseph quinn cameo at the end | pairing: eddie munson x reader x joseph quinn
a/n: enjoy everyone! i’m sorry this took so long to come out but i am committed to only releasing my best work to you guys 🩶 i hope you all enjoy level 001!!
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[WC: 2.0k words]
“Player Zero…do you copy?”
🎮
By the grace of your headset, you begin to scan the dark, almost void-like, aperture that’s hijacked your surroundings.
“Copy,” you report back to James.
“Excellent.”
Everything around you is black, a noisy puddle sits at your feet. The room is crisp from the AC, and the props smell like rubber tires. And soon, with a push of a button, you will come face to face with the Mind Flayer, saving everyone from this ill-fated town once and for all.
You can’t believe this. What thousands will pay to do, you get to experience for free, having been one of the few selected to try out the new Stranger Things: Virtual Reality Game at the Las Vegas Sphere. (Not to mention, you're the biggest Stranger Things fan in your hometown and quite possibly the biggest Joseph Quinn fan in the state of Nevada).
Eddie's death left you completely shattered. He just fit in so well with the older members of the party that you were almost certain the Duffers would keep him around. But to your despair, alongside many others, they did what they do best and killed off another fan favorite.
But there was something beautiful that came out of Eddie's death. Because of Stranger Things 4, Joseph Quinn has been getting booked for acting gigs left and right, getting asked to come to fan conventions, and you were able to find a community on Tumblr who shared the same love for him and Eddie Munson, and with that notion alone, means the silly metalhead lives on through you guys.
Your dream is to meet Joe one day. You’ve been frantically saving up for the day you get to hug him and thank him for everything he’s done for you and others. Whenever that may be. Until then, all you could do is support his work and contribute to all of his supporting franchises. Much like this one.
“I can’t wait to tell all my mutuals all about this game,” you think to yourself.
James permits you to walk around in order to adapt to your environment. You’re already planning what to tell your friends based on your observations so far. But since pictures aren't allowed, your phone remains in your back pocket for the time being.
“Alright Player Zero,” your guide further instructs you. “You’re going to walk through the gate. And from there the game will begin.”
“And what if I need to pee?”
The comment earns you a chuckle from James. “That’s fine. You’ll just have to take your headset off and call out to me.”
James asks you if you have any other questions. You couldn’t help yourself.
“Will I interact with any characters? Like Eddie?”
“No Eddie unfortunately, it’s primarily the Mind Flayer,” James answers honestly. “Goal of the game is to fight the monster.”
“Understood,” you pout in disappointment.
“Hey but I’ll be surprised if you run into anyone though,” James laughs. “Tell ‘em I say hi if you do.”
Just then, a neon orange projection appears from the corner of your eyes, followed by some squelching noises that gnaw uncomfortably at your ears. And as you get closer to it, you can hear the shrieks of some very familiar, unearthly creatures.
“Walk through the gate now, Zero,” James instructs you.
You take a deep breath, a little scared at how vivid the graphics are but reassuring yourself that all of this is just a game.
“Walking,” you report.
Hobbling into the gate, the synthetic warmth massages your ankle as you squeeze your way on in. You land on the bottom tier, a floor below the floor you started on... one that you weren't aware existed until you continued to walk around.
“This isn’t so bad,” you mutter to yourself.
Just then, the noise around you cuts off and your headset broadcasts to black.
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Tssssss.
Unsure whether or not this was part of the game, you continue to tread around the nothingness that is around you. Holding your arms out to keep your balance doesn’t seem to help, because the more you graze onto nothing, the more panicked you become.
This is odd. Where’s the Mind Flayer?
“James?!” you call out, your heart nearly beating out of your chest now.
Nothing.
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Suddenly, obnoxious TV static overpowers your headspace. It’s accompanied by lightheadedness, the brightness of it all mercilessly stinging your eyes, and the high-pitched feedback noise that soon fills your ears is probably enough to make you go deaf for the day. Great, now you know why this is a trial run.
“James!” you hiss again quietly. “Anyone?!”
No response. You were never warned about this part. Was this even supposed to happen?
Absolutely frustrated now, you reach for your headset to get out of the game yourself. But to your surprise, you’re stunned to have gotten two palms full of your hair, and part of your face. There was no headset on your head. You’re walking in a void of nothingness, with no one around to help you.
“I need to pee…” is your final attempt to connect with somebody.
The ear-piercing, scratching sounds start up once again. This time grainier, louder. It continues for a while as you run around in a panic before halting to complete radio. silence.
“Wh-” you pant. “What’s happeni-”
JOLT!
“OH SHIT!”
You’re then met with an abrupt, devastating PUSH that sends you flying across the room and down — what you could only describe as — an endless black hole. Your hand clutches at your chest as an attempt to soothe yourself. You’re almost sure your heart stopped for a minute due to absolute shock.
SMACK!
In a millisecond, your body lands on a prickly patch that you soon make up to be loose straws of hay. Blending into the scenery now is that of a remote grass field, with the smell of fresh trees and newly cut blades of grass dancing around your nose.
You can’t think of any place in Las Vegas that would have a barren field like this. Nor can you think of a town nearby with this much of a Midwestern flare, this much empty — and grassy — land, and this much Kodak green undertone to its atmosphere. Unless…
It can’t possibly be. Are you in Hawkins?
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You're standing around like an idiot trying to figure out how this could've possibly happened.
You knew this experience was 'all-immersive', but judging by the description, you were supposed to be taken to the Upside Down... and the backwoods by Reefer Rick's hideout was a long commute from. Was this Mind Fight going to be after-the-fact?
Trudging towards Reefer Rick’s now, you begin to think of other ways to get James' attention. But when you hear the faint voice of someone else coming from inside the abandoned lake house, suddenly getting out of the game becomes less of a priority.
“Eddie…” the familiar voice softly commands.
Eddie?
The voice you register belongs to no one other than Gaten Matarazzo, or Dustin Henderson in this sense. But that’s impossible, you think to yourself. James said that there were no characters in the game.
“We are on... your side...”
Oh, it’s this scene. Peaking through the door that was open a mere three inches, you're stunned to see the four dimensional manifestations of the characters you've grown to love right in front of your very eyes.
IMPOSSIBLE.
It's them. You almost stumble backwards when you see Sadie Sink and Maya Hawke alongside Gaten; and despite having their backs towards you, you know it is for sure them, and not some workers hired to play the part.
Your eyes travel to the corner of the room. Very much to your surprise, evident by the butterflies in your stomach, you're met with Joe Keery as Steve Harrington, and Joseph Quinn... the love of your life... in the flesh... your Eddie. Both characters are too focused on each other to even register your presence. If they are even able to see you at all.
You continue to be the fly on the wall while taking a few collected deep breaths. There's no way that they're in front of you right now. There's no way a whole SCENE from the show is panning out in front of you right now. Almost as if it's real time.
“I swear on my mother!” Gaten Dustin continues, trying to reason with Eddie so he can drop the knife and let go of Steve. He turns to the others for help.
“Right?! Guys?!”
“Yes, yes we swear,” the party clamors together in attempts to calm Eddie down.
“On Dustin’s mother,” Maya Robin attempts.
“Yeah, Dustin’s…Dustin’s mother…”
Keery’s voice is strained as he gulps in fear. Reasonably so, because there’s a knife pointed at his throat in this scene.
You clear yours at the doorway, causing everyone to deadpan to you in shock. So they can see you. And sure enough when this happens, that’s when your gaze lands on him. And his gaze lands on you.
It’s insane. It’s like you are looking Joseph Quinn in the eyes, but at the same time, it’s not him. It is literally — Eddie Munson. He's even more beautiful than you imagined.
“On Dustin’s mother?” you speak.
“Jesus, where did YOU spawn from?!” Gaten Dustin exclaims.
“Who’s that?” Sadie Max wonders.
“I…don’t know,” Maya Robin answers.
Immediately, Dustin runs to shield Eddie from your sight. But it’s already too late. And plus, Eddie’s eyes have already met yours. Studied yours.
“I’m…” you speak. “I’m here to help.”
You figured while James figures out what the actual fuck is wrong, that you’d interact with the characters. They’re right in front of you after all, and actually responding.
"I'm Zero..." you explain to them. "I'm not... I'm not from here, but I know a hell of a lot about this place. A lot more than you guys think."
“You know about what’s going on around here?” Robin inquires.
You nod. “And I know part of who is behind it all, and what we can do to stop him.”
"H...him?"
Eddie's timid stare pierces straight into you. It's enough for your knees to buckle, but you know you have to keep yourself collected otherwise the projections of these characters would probably freak out at you.
You hear a tiny thud sound against the wooden floor. Eddie has dropped the knife. Breathing a sigh of relief now, Steve sinks to the ground to gather himself. Meanwhile, a small circle gathers around you.
“There are… greater forces at bay,” you explain. “And it goes way beyond what you know about the demogorgons, the shadow monster, the Mind Flayer… There’s this... really powerful warlock…and a shadow that looms over him to do some really horrible things. And it’s not who you’d expect.”
“You know about those too?” Steve asks.
You nod. Eddie only seems more confused.
"A lot more than you know..." you warn him. "Trust."
"What else do you know about?" Dustin questions.
"I know about Eleven, and Will," you answer. "And how they're safer in California than here, but that doesn't necessarily exempt them from danger."
They all exchange looks with one another.
You can't help but look over at Eddie again.
"I know what happened to Chrissy," you say to him. He looks back up at you. "She's that nice girl from the middle school talent show, right?"
"I left her there," is all he says. He knows you understand what he meant by it. "I'm just a coward."
"You're not a coward, Eddie. Nothing you could've done could've prevented what happened at the trailer."
“Zero…” Dustin whispers to himself. Then he looks up at you with suspicion. Pointing an accusatory finger at you, he says, "How do we know you weren't sent by Hawkins Lab to spy on us?! You're a number after all."
"I'm not a number from the lab, trust me," you roll your eyes, slightly annoyed at Curly and his superstition. But it makes sense. "I don't even know Eleven, okay? Just think of me as... a guardian. From another universe. I think I was sent here to help you guys. I know how this shit ends, after all."
“How does it end?” Eddie asks you. “F-for us? For me?”
You turn to him in anguish.
“Not well, I’m afraid,” you respond honestly. “But if you guys are open to my help, I can get us out of this mess unscathed. Build up some leeway.”
You turn to Max who only seems to be backing further away from you. It's definitely in her character to do so, Maxine has always struggled to ask for help. But you know, deep down in those fearful blue eyes, she wants your help as much as she wants to run away from it.
"And we're gonna break you out of that curse," you say to her.
You're no expert on the laws of space-time, but it doesn't take a scientist to realize that you're in a different Hawkins reality. And knowing there are countless outcomes and experiences for existence, you can make this reality your own.
Which means, if you choose to stay in this 'game', and play the cards correctly, the Eddie standing directly in front of you has a second chance at life.
Now’s your chance to fix it. And experience an altered timeline. You don't know how this is possible, but it is. And after all, the Rule of Probability states, "the probability of an impossible event is Zero."
“If you guys want to save everyone in Hawkins, including Eddie and Max, you guys have to do EXACTLY what I say do you understand?”
taglist: @winchester-angel, @arthurcerverogf, @damon-loves-pie, @breezybeesposts, @swiss-mrs,@leelei1980, @skulliecadaver-blog, @katethetank, @mexicanfolklore, @ali-r3n, @nailbatanddungeon, @hugdealer, @wtflindsay, @yourdailymemedelivery, @kellsck, @kthomps914, @daydream-believer19
cyberpunk dividers from: @k1ssyoursister @sillycircus-decoarchive
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chigirisprincess · 1 year
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Between the Stacks ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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— Lisa Minci
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, dni if you are not sapphic, afab!reader, reader described as being able to have visible bruises, oral (reader receiving), power bottom lisa, subtop reader, liberal usage of canonical pet names, reader is referred to as puppy, praise, teasing, tit sucking, semi-public sex (in the library) and making out. ⊹ Run time. 4.0k ⊹ Note. This fic as been marinating in my drafts for a while, the smut isn't my favourite as I'm a bit rusty but I hope you all enjoy <3
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The Knights of Favonius Library is quiet, unusually so. It lacks the usual hum of life and hushed chatter that bounces off the ornate pine wood shelves. All that lingers in the deep recesses of the thick stacks is the quiet jingling bell that’s attached to Lisa’s wide-brimmed hat. If you closed your eyes you might’ve been tricked into thinking one of Maraget’s kittens had gotten loose in the library, but the telltale sound of Lisa’s heels clicking alongside her bell told you it was her.
“You should probably take this off,” you whisper, a coy smile, “Lest we want Jean to suspect that we’re milling about after hours.”
Lisa tosses you a look over her shoulder, “She’d surely scold us, and wouldn’t that just be terrible!” She laughs, swiping her gloved fingers across her forehead to push her bangs out of her eyes, “The Acting Grand Master barging in here to tell us off, are you shaking yet my dear?”
“No!”
Sticking your tongue out at her, you take a single, daring, step closer to her. Lisa’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead when you delicately pluck her hat from her head. Tossing it to the floor, you try not to cringe as dust flies up from the shelves.
“Dear me! I really should get Noelle in here to do some cleaning,” Lisa whines, her lips falling into a pout.
“That’s not Noelle’s job!”
“It kind of is.”
The innocent look Lisa sports crumbles all too quickly, like she knows no matter how well she wears it, it’ll never convince you. Pressing your fingers to her jaw, you bring her gaze back towards you, “It’s not, but you know I’d be more than happy to be put to work.”
“I’d love nothing more than to put you to work, cutie,” she hums, “But, not in the way you’re thinking.”
Cocking your head to the side, you narrow your eyes at Lisa, “Oh yeah?” You question, “And what exactly am I thinking then? Since you and that genius brain of yours know everything.”
Smoothing her gloved thumb across your bottom lip, Lisa offers you a smirk. It makes a shiver zip up your spine, goosebumps dotting along the length of your arms despite the balmy summer air that filters through the cracked open windows. Pressing down on your lip to expose your teeth to her, Lisa chuckles at the small whimper that crawls up your throat.
“Obviously you think I want you to be my maid,” Lisa says, as it if truly were the most obvious thing in the world. Initially, you did think that’s what Lisa was aiming towards, getting you all worked up only for her to ask you to help her finish dusting. It wouldn’t be the first time Lisa would dangle the carrots in front of your nose, nor would it be the last, “Though, I must admit you would look absolutely scrumptious in a maid dress.”
Allowing her other hand to fall around your hips, Lisa continues on with a laugh, “However, what I had in mind was a bit more … racy …” She hums, “C’mon darling don’t play dumb, you know exactly how I want you.”
“I do?”
It’s a genuine question. At least you hope it came across as convincing enough for Lisa to share some of the wicked thoughts that were bouncing around her mind. You liked it better that way, when Lisa indulged you with the depravity a scholar like her could conjure up. Not that you weren’t all that creative, but there was something about the language she used, it boarded on academic like she’d learnt it just to explain all these complex theories and concepts and still wanted to be seen for the brilliant mind she was even amidst the throes of pleasure. It was fucking filthy. You shivered at the mere thought of it, preening in hopes of her indulging you once more. After all, there was no better place to flex intellectual prowess than Mondstadt’s one and only public library.
“You do,” Lisa settles on a hungered expression, it doesn’t quite mask the pithy swamp of lust that permeates her green eyes but it keeps you from coyishly leering. The lilt of her tone tells you she’s grown tired of your games, tired before they had ever truly begun but she was never one to play by the rules of another, “Are you really gonna make me say it?”
You nod, and your eyes find themselves trained on her lips. They’re painted a lovely shade of pink, it’s glossy enough that you know she’s wearing something but still neutral enough for foolish men like Huffan or Pallad to think they were naturally like that. You liked it better when she painted them with something rich and deep, a colour that would mar the pale skin of her face when you smeared it; something that would mark you too when she blotted her lips along your neck and jawline. This, this would do though. 
“Yes,” you breathed, wrapping your hand around her wrist, “Enlighten me, you know I’m nothing but a fool around you so I need you to fill in the blanks.”
Your teeth catch the fabric of her glove, it’s loose around the tip of her thumb and dangled precariously in front of your face as she tugged and taunted your bottom lip. Lisa lets out a small yip of surprise when your bottom teeth catch at her flesh before clamping down on the silk. Your head reeled back and Lisa had no choice but to let her hand fall slack as her glove slid up the length of her deceptively long, lithe fingers. You let it drop to the floor without a second thought, threading your fingers with hers as she blinks back at you.
“Oh, how could I forget,” she hums, pressing the back of your hand against her mouth, “You’re just a dumb little puppy, who needs to be told exactly what to do, isn’t that right darling?”
You nod happily, your body aching to reach forward and touch all the parts of her you had been deprived of while the two of you worked.
“Sit, puppy,” Lisa instructed, tipping her chin towards the worn, lumpy couch that sat behind you.
The springs groaned beneath your weight as you plopped back, dust and stray feathers plumed around you. The cushions are well-worn, frayed around the edges, and lumpy from how many times they’ve been restuffed and fluffed up. Despite its age and the way it creaks when you move around too much, the couch was comfortable and your body began to melt into the cushions as Lisa watched you with hawkish eyes.
Curling her forefinger towards her, Lisa beckons you to angle your hips towards her. Hooking her hands behind your knees, Lisa helps you settle near the edge of the sofa. The bottom of your skirt bunches up beneath your bum and exposes your frilly panties. There’s a hot, sticky wet spot along the seam of your cunt, it soaks through the thin cotton, begging for Lisa’s attention.
“What’s this?” Lisa coos, her bottom lip catching between her teeth, “Someone’s needy, aren’t they?”
“Shut up!” You whine between gritted teeth, Lisa laughs at your petulant tone and it drives another moan up your throat.
Lisa’s thumb presses into your throbbing clit through the damp cloth and that seems to quiet your voice as your mouth falls open into a sharp gasp. She playfully teases you through your panties, languidly rubbing circles until your legs melt against the sofa. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth to stifle the whimper that has slithered up to the tip of your tongue. The firm pressure of her thumb against you is just enough to warm your body up and leave you wanting so much more from her, but Lisa liked it when you begged just a little bit too much. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, not yet.
A set of soft green eyes sear holes through you from between your thighs, “Does this feel good, puppy?” Lisa questions though she can tell from your pinched expression that you’d say no, “Does my puppy like when I touch them like this?”
You shake your head just to watch Lisa roll her eyes, a breathy moan passes through your lips before you suck in another deep breath and clamp your lips shut. You were in a library after all and Lisa was always reminding you to keep quiet.
“No?” She fakes a pout, her brows pushing together as she stops her ministrations, “Let’s see if I can change that then.”
There’s an audible squelching sound when Lisa begins to peel your underwear away from your drooling cunt, your slick desire soaking the supple skin of your inner thighs. Lisa’s pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, you wonder if they taste of cherry or vanilla. Soon, they’d taste of nothing but you.
“Such a pretty pussy,” Lisa hums, trailing one delicate finger along your hip, “Should I have a taste, puppy?”
You nod before your brain has a chance to verbalize a response, “Yes,” you pant, your hands reaching out to caress the top of her head, “Please Lisa, I’ve been waiting all day for you to touch me … and kiss me.”
“I’ve already done both of those things, darling.”
The devilish glint that simmers within the wells of Lisa’s eyes sends your mind into a tizzy.
“I know.”
“And, besides that's not what I asked you,” Lisa muses, “Be a good puppy and answer me, unless you prefer to sit like this and have a chat?”
Pushing away the urge to roll your eyes, you peer down at Lisa with a pout, “Please eat my pussy out,” you whimper as the soft pads of your fingers graze against her scalp.
A low sound of satisfaction rumbles from within Lisa’s chest, your response must have pleased her.
Her plump lips press against the swell of your pussy, a chaste and affectionate kiss placed upon your labia before she spreads your lips apart with two dainty fingers. The tip of her tongue is teased against your slit as if she were sampling a glass of wine before deciding if she wished to commit to it. Your head lolls back against the plush couch, sweat-dabbled tendrils of your hair stick against the length of your flushed neck. The air has grown thick and even hotter, Lisa always kept the windows closed to preserve the wispy, aged pages of parchment contained within the library at Jean’s alleged behest. It made your skin grow even warmer, the humidity making your clothing cling uncomfortably to your body. Your mind could not ruminate on your discomfort any further because Lisa seemed to have decided she was ready to feast.
Her tongue is pressed flat against your cunt, licking a clean line up from your weeping hole to your swollen clit. Your hips buckle beneath the weight of her hand as you squirm in her hold, “Right there,” you rasp, boorishly pushing her head deeper into your pussy, “Need you right there Lisa!”
The rumble of her laughter sends a jolt up the length of your spine, Lisa allows her lips to wrap around your clit for a moment as if to say “Here?”.
The weepy moan you let out makes you feel pathetic in the best possible way, “Yes,” you cry, angling your hips upwards so she can take you deeper into her mouth, “Please, baby!”
She seems to oblige your needy disposition, lavishing you with her tongue and feather-light suckles until you writhed beneath her. Your thighs threatened to clamp around her head as they twitched. Pressing a finger against your hole, Lisa slowly begins to work your cunt open, curling it slightly upwards. Her name slides from your lips in a repeated melody, as if you were nothing but an entranced sailor and she was the siren whose spell you were bound to.
Lisa slides in another finger as a gasp pours out of you and for a second the wind is knocked out from within your lungs.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” she murmurs against you, worried eyes flitting upwards, “You need to take a breath.”
You feel a bit stupid as you greedily inhale as per her instruction, nearly making a show of how well you take to her instruction. Thank Barbatos, you think to yourself. It’s morose and for a moment you’re distracted by a flash of panic at the prospect of the Anemo Archon becoming privy to your sex life because you had been dumb enough to invite him with your thoughts.
“Eyes on me.”
Lisa looks peeved that you’ve allowed your mind to wander even for a moment and you mutter a small “I’m sorry,” between heavy, pleasured sighs. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, heat floods the apples of your cheeks. Her gaze is piercing and slightly predatory like she’d chew you up and spit you out once she was done with you. The whispers called her a maneater but as she ate you, you couldn’t help but relish in the irony.
“Sorry,” you pant, pathetically whining when Lisa pinches your thigh. Her nails are long, naturally and they’ll leave a mark on your skin because you’ve always been one to bruise easily, “You’re so good to me, I feel so… mm, good.”
She chuckles a bit, “Are you already this dumb for me?” Lisa questions, caressing the moon-shaped indents she’s left on your skin, “All you can say is ‘good’?”
Nodding your head, you press her head back towards your cunt, keening as she slips in another finger. You might have agreed with her but whatever you tried to say became swallowed up by a wanton moan. Your tongue felt too heavy to form any other words and any lingering thoughts on the semantics of the archons slipped away. All you could think of was how her hot, wet tongue swirled around your clit and the heavy little pants of breath she let out. 
Your nails dig into the soft flesh of her scalp as you press her face impossibly closer. Lisa welcomes the weight of your calves on her shoulders, it allows her to keep your hips pinned down with ease as you squirm. The muscles in your abdomen tighten as a wave of pleasure rolls through you. Bliss is within fingers' length and you inch toward it at a mind-numbing pace. Lisa was too good, she knew your body too, and it made you resent how easily you fell apart at her hand. The fun would be over too soon but somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear her pretty voice telling you to let go and be good— to come for her and her alone.
Dropping your head into the worn cushions of the sofa, you whimper her name. Her long, lithe fingers have found that spot inside of you that turns you to putty as she rubs the pads of her fingers along it. Your orgasm rolls through you with ease and brings forth a fuzzy, heavy feeling to your head and your limbs as the tension in your body melts away. Your pussy squelches around Lisa’s hand as she finger fucks you through your high. She laps up your juices as your cunt gushes with such an eager vigour that your cheeks fill heat.
The wet pop that sounds as Lisa pulls away from your pussy is embarrassing but your whines are silenced as she plants a sloppy kiss on your still throbbing clit. Her face is flushed pink and her mouth is glossy. Lisa kisses you before you’re able to spend too long admiring her appearance. The taste of you lingers on her tongue and lips and you moan into her mouth as she lavishes you.
“Feel better?” She coos as she brushes her knuckles across your cheekbone.
You nod lazily a small, “Yes,” passing your lips as you hum.
With a quick peck to your cheek, Lisa rises to her feet. She wobbles for a moment as the blood rushes back to her legs and disappears into some far corner of the library within a blink of an eye. Though, she doesn’t leave you for too long, her smiling face emerging from around the corner just as you were about to call for her.
“Did you miss me, darling?” She asks with a giggle, her hands tucked behind her back, “Now, don’t lie to me because I can see it in your face!”
You stick your tongue out at her like a petulant child but still open your arms to beckon her into your embrace, “Come here, I wanna cuddle.”
“I would, but I have a surprise for you!”
Cocking your head to the side you peer up at Lisa with expectant eyes.
“You have to guess!” She exclaims, tucking herself between the arm of the sofa and your thigh, “Come on, you know you want to, sweetheart!”
Pressing your finger to your lip in faux contemplation you pretend to think long and hard, “A bottle of water?”
Lisa rolls her eyes in a playful manner, lightly smacking your thigh, “You’re supposed to try!” She whines, “You’re no fun, no it’s not a bottle of water!”
Producing her hand from behind her back with a flourish, Lisa presents some sort of sex toy. 
“What is that?” You ask, furrowing your brows together.
“It’s the latest fun from Fontaine, “Lisa muses with a giggle, “Gods, they never fail to amaze and amuse me!”
“How does it work?”
A devilish smirk rises to her lips at your question. Wordlessly, she swats at your other thigh until you get her hint and rest your knee on the sofa. Lisa swipes her fingers along your still sensitive pussy to collect a bit of your slick to coat one end of the toy. 
“Can I put this inside you?” She asks only moving once you’ve nodded your head in consent.
The shorter end of the toy slips into your still pulsing while with ease. The rest of the toy sits snugly against your clit and protrudes upwards. The shape of it is vaguely phallic and realization clicks into place, bringing a giggle to your lips.
“It’s a strapless strapon!” Lisa exclaims, running her fingers along the pale purple tip, “Figured we may as well read it out now that you’re nice and wet.”
“Are you?”
“Hm?” She hums.
“Are you wet?”
Lisa pouts a bit as she hikes up the bottom of her skirt, “You always get me so worked up, my love,” she reassures.
The dark plum of her panties sports an obvious wet spot that Lisa strokes absentmindedly. Hooking her fingers around the fabric, she pulls her underwear aside to reveal her pussy to you. Her bush glistened and dripped with her arousal. You bit your lip at the sight, your hands reaching out to urge Lisa toward you.
Hiking her thighs over yours, Lisa settles comfortably into your lap. Dipping her hand between her legs, Lisa rubs a slow circle against her clit. Loose brown ringlets spill over her shoulder as she rests her cheek upon it, she softly moans. Digging your nails into the fat of her hips, you suppress your own moan, eyes growing lidded as you watch Lisa touch herself.
“Open wide for my baby,” she instructs as she prods your bottom lip with her middle and ring finger, “Mhm, just like that.”
Your tongue swirls around her digits to chase the fleeting taste of salt and skin. Spit leaks out from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down your chin as you sloppily suck on her fingers. Lisa preens at the sight, drinking it up with greedy eyes.
“So messy,” she laughs, nuzzling her nose to your cheek, “But so good for me.”
Lisa coats the silicon cock with your spit but still makes a show of rubbing the head in between her soaking folds. The ridged edge that is pressed against your clit makes you shiver as Lisa experimentally fiddles with the toy.
“Oh? Does that feel good?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, your eyes flitting up to meet hers.
Lisa peers down at you with heavily lidded eyes. She grins much like a cat who caught the cream and she seems oh so pleased with herself for being curious enough to buy this toy. Her smug expression is quickly washed away when you reach between your bodies to grab the base of the toy and nudge the rounded head against her hole.
“Why don’t you relax, baby,” she huffs, her lips catching between her teeth as she slowly sinks down onto your strap, “Let me ride you.”
You’re all too ready to agree with a quiet and compliant, “Okay,” slipping through your teeth when Lisa slowly rocks her hips against yours.
Her breasts jiggle and nearly spill out from the low neckline of her dress giving you an eyeful of her milky skin. Pressing a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to her collar you bring your hand to rest against the small of her back and press her flush against you. Lisa hums in content, pushing her hair aside and bearing her neck to you. A low throaty moan melts past her lips as you begin to graze your teeth against her pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin between pecks.
Lisa groans against the shell of her ear, her lips gently brushing against your ear lobe, “You feel so good inside of me, darling,” she rasps, “You wanna suck on my tits, hm?”
You look up at her with eyes blown wide with lust, your head bobbing up and down before she’s even finished speaking. You loved the days when Lisa chose not to wear a bra for many reasons, most of them having to do with how easily accessible she became to you and right now it took everything in you not to shower her with thanks as she tugged her dress down to expose her breasts. Dragging your teeth and tongue along the slope of her neck, you lavished her chest with little bites that left her skin blushed pink.
Lisa is a vision unlike any other and you feel immensely lucky to be the only one privy to such a sight. Her kiss-bitten bottom lip is pressed between her teeth to keep her moans hushed lest she get too loud like she was when the two of you were hidden behind the closed doors of your shared apartment. Sweat is dabbled along her pinched brow and a few silky strands of her hair sticks to her forehead. You’d never tired of watching her expression grow debauched and wanton before your very eyes.
Cupping the bottom of her breast, your tongue lolls out and dribbles a bit of spit onto her puffy and soft nipple before your lips wrap around the bud to suckle on it. Lisa’s hips stutter for a moment and she laughs to herself before picking up the pace. Your eyes roll back into your head as the toy begins to rub against your throbbing clit.
“So good,” Lisa moans, a quick curse flying past her lips when the strap angles just right inside of her, “You gonna make me cum, sweetheart?”
Dipping her hand beneath the fabric of her crumpled-up dress, the pads of Lisa’s fingers find her clit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick I know you’re still sensitive.”
She throws her head back, trying her best not to jostle you around too much as she rides you. Pressing your free hand against her lower back, you help to steady Lisa, she must appreciate it because the lilt of her voice becomes affectionate as she sighs out your name with a gooey sort of expression settling onto her features.
Running your teeth along her sensitive, hardened nipple, your eyes flicker upward to watch as Lisa’s mouth falls open. Her orgasm slowly washes over her, forcing a shudder to wrack through her body. Slumping against your shoulder, Lisa sighs softly, her hand coming to caress your shoulder.
“How was that for putting you to work?”
“If this is how you treat all your maids, well then I’ll be sure to apply for the position,” you laugh, releasing her tit with a loud pop, “Though, I must say I much prefer being your lover.”
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kurithedweeb · 1 month
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Okay SO, I think it was @al-ld who made the post about feeling like Xavier was retconned into being Esmund because the Jury of Nine is under O'khasis control if not directly under a Ro'Meave who are regarded as Esmund's bloodline, but I had the thought of what if they were both Ro'Meaves and then it turned into rewrite canon so I'm inflicting it on y'all too.
What if Esmund and Xavier were brothers, what if they were twins? They did everything together, they were close as could be. They became guards together and planned that if either of them ever ended up having to become Lord in the event their older sibling the heir died, they would do that together too. And then Irene came into the picture.
They both loved her. And Esmund was chosen as a Divine Warrior, and Xavier who had served at Irene's side as her personal guard, maybe even her head guard, was somehow left behind. 
The distance gave Xavier clarity. He loved her, yes, but he could see the way she was around Shad and quickly came to realize that she would never feel towards him what he felt towards her, and even if she did she would long outlive him on account of her seeming immortality, but maybe he could still protect her the way he once had after death. He went home to O'khasis, instituted the first guard academy there and the Jury of Nine, which he led and which followed the Divine Warriors on their later adventures as they went on their quest to save the world. Maybe he and Esmund get back to how they once were. During the separation, he became known as the Admirer because he admired both Irene and his brother from afar. 
In the meantime, Esmund followed in Irene's footsteps. He only looked back when he realized his brother was far behind, no longer following where Esmund led the way he always had before, and this spurs doubts about his position in the Divine Warriors. Did he do the right thing getting so close? Is it worth it when the one person who has been at his side his entire life, who he had always planned spending the rest of his life alongside, was gone? He followed Irene because he loved her, but it takes a lot longer for him to realize what Xavier had, and once he does the realization makes him feel like he had left his brother behind for nothing despite his work as the Protector, because she didn't love him either and even if she did he knew he couldn't make himself admit his feelings for her. So he sat and stewed in all these feelings, wondering whether he should leave for home, if they would be able to complete the mission they had set out to complete without him, and the guilt eats him up inside. 
Then Xavier shows back up with the Jury in tow. Esmund realizes that his brother has had an entire life without him while he was away. 
He made an institution that would outlive them all, he moved on, he's married with a kid on the way and Esmund was so far out of reach that this is the first he's hearing of it. They catch up, they talk about everything they should have years ago, and Xavier has to leave before the final battle when news reaches them that the heir of O'khasis, their older sister’s only child, is dead. Someone has to be the heir, someone has to put the Lord back together again, and Esmund is too important to the mission. 
This is when he realizes that this entire time, Xavier was the one leaving him behind and now he will never catch up. But he can protect Irene, something Xavier dedicated a massive chunk of his life to, and so he became Irene's guard in his brother's stead and remained so until the so-called betrayal' of Shad, a man he had come to think of as a brother too, and afterwards he went home to O'khasis to be with Xavier again. 
Further down the line, Esmund returns to Divine Warriors business but helps run the guard academy and Jury of Nine, and when their older sister dies the twins rule O'khasis as the only duo of Lords in known history. Esmund never married, his heart belonging solely to Irene, and so never had any children and when Xavier died his children became the heirs, beginning the modern Ro'Meave line. Esmund rules alone for a number of years, taking care of Xavier's family, the guard academy, the Jury, and holds O'khasis to the ideals of the woman he once loved, which turns O'khasis into the religious powerhouse it is today. When Esmund dies, his relic gets passed down to Xavier's children, eventually making it all the way down to Garroth and Zane, which makes anyone not in the know about Xavier believe that the Ro'Meaves are Esmund's direct descendants.
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divineerdrick · 5 months
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Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for 413
Happy 413 everyone! We knew we were getting something today, as James announced that earlier. This time, it's an extensive news posts with notes from the whole team. Looks like we've got a few comic pages as well. Let's see what we got!
James: I can definitely relate to what James is saying. Homestuck and its community helped me keep going when it seemed like there genuinely wasn't a path forward. Obviously it hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows, but I do still feel there is a lot of genuine goodness and greatness in our little corner of the internet.
And yay! James is an Aradia fan!
Kim:
Kim is one of the people who grew up with this comic. I honestly can't imagine what that must be like. Although I had a lot of media I enjoyed at 13, I don't feel like any of it had the kind of impact on me then that Homestuck had now. It's not like there wasn't anything good on, either! It was 1993 when I was 13, and WB and Disney were at their apex. But Homestuck hit different. I honestly can't imagine what it was like being able to relate to those kids like they could be your friends in another life, growing up along side them.
Miles:
A beautiful mindfuck is a great way to describe it. Honestly the somewhat over the top, trollish, insincere seeming way that Miles is writing shows a great love for Homestuck and the project in and of itself. The love honestly does come through.
Chumi:
Chumi appears to be even younger than Kim, though I could be wrong there. And she also grew up with it, if maybe starting a couple of years into its run. But it goes a step further for her. Homestuck is her formative fandom. And again, I can't imagine what that must be like, let alone now creating art for it.
Andi:
Andi is another member of the team to have grown up alongside Homestuck. It makes sense that this would create the most talented and passionate people to work on the project. Like many fans, though, they also had Homestuck influence their identity and help them feel safe in discovering who they were. It will always be important we have people like them keeping this fandom alive.
floralmarsupial:
While the way Homestuck inspired me was different, she too was drawn in and influenced by the very artistic questions Homestuck posed. Looks like James has managed to put together a team that has all been impacted by Homestuck in subtly different ways. And I'm totally here for it!
Haven:
Oh wow! Coming in on Murderstuck! Ouch! Still, the effect Homestuck has had on them is very obvious!
It's nice to hear more from each voice behind the project. I'm glad they took the time to make this celebration a bit more personal. But with all that said and done, it's time to read an Upd8!
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There is so much to talk about just from this image.
First off, this is the most like Bro that Dirk has ever looked. And it's not just the fact that we've just got a plain white silhouette with shades. There is a lot of chaos in this panel reminiscent of Bro's apartment. That outfit has absolutely never looked wackier. The anime ninja aesthetics combined with the pooffiness of those shorts is already crazy. But the Kamina cape in this looks more cliché villain than anime hero.
While we can't currently see one of the monitors, we absolutely can see that Dirk has been keeping track of our Meat crew. My guess is that the other monitor is Deltritus.
Also we get a throwback with some orange drinks floating about.
Dirk is, of course, being suitably condescending here. After all, in his mind this is the only way to make the narrative matter, to make anything that we'll give a shit about. He probably knows we still enjoy the "narrative kiddy pool" but he's counting on us truly getting invested in what he has planned.
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Wow! Nice frame break! Also this art slaps!
Apparently Rose and Terezi are still a thing. Dirk only seems to partially approve of this. From his perspective, the relationship is a very Rose thing to do. And Rose doing Rose things is important to him and his plans. He also appreciates that Rose doesn't have infinite patience for the finetuning that Dirk could spend a literal eternity on. It keeps him on something resembling a schedule.
So are we going to see these "scions" of theirs?
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I like that there's an obvious sea horse in that test tube. Also, outside of Hero mode Dirk is still sporting his character features at least. He hasn't slipped into being a full guardian yet.
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Well fuck. That might just be the hardest anyone has ever "spoken too soon."
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Hell yes! Adult Terezi is awesome! Also, she's not getting rid of her facial features any time soon!
I hope I didn't jinx that . . .
I'd forgotten Terezi can hear Dirk's narrative. She's also very much on the "Get on with it!" train. Dirk was planning to skip ahead anyway, but of course he wants to unveil his creation first.
So Terezi will be the one that actually makes sure the new session happens. I'm surprised Dirk is allowing that. I can definitely get why he doesn't want it automated.
I can honestly believe that Dirk really does care about his creation.
And I can honestly see Terezi playing the long game. I'm honestly curious why she wouldn't, beside Dirk's fuckery.
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Ouch.
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Also, damn this art is so fucking good!
We've seen the way Terezi can let what she sees as a mistake eat at her. We've seen how far she'll go to fix it. Is John's death doing that to her? Is even this older, seemingly more jaded Terezi unable to let something like that go even with what's at stake?
Or could she possibly be letting Dirk think that's what's going on? I really kinda hope that's it.
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Now that's just being mean pretending you don't know what she meant by being in her "CH4MB3RS", Dirk.
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Apparently Dirk still has a mouth when he needs to.
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FUCKING!!!
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DAMN!!!
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That's an interesting way of showing them speaking at the same time. Kinda like it.
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Okay. That is some legitimate Bullshit. I like that even Dirk calls it out as such. That is a ton of power to just flex like that. His reasoning is sound, but even he knows he's partly doing it because he can.
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Wow.
There is so much to potentially read into this moment. On the one had, this might be a genuine Rose moment. Even if Dirk has been manipulating her a lot, this version of Rose might genuinely be appreciative of what they're trying to do.
The other possibility is that Rose is manipulating Dirk this time. There've been hints, and I find it hard to believe otherwise, the Rose is aware Dirk has been manipulating her somehow. She may not have figured out how he's doing it, but I feel she knows. As an ascended Seer of Light, her ability to read the most fortuitous path is literally godlike. I can't imagine that definition of fortune including one where she keeps losing more and more agency. So this might be a moment where she's telling Dirk what he needs to hear to stop him from stealing more from her.
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The worst part is he genuine believes that.
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ravenwoodalum · 10 months
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on karamelle, why it sucks, and redeeming azteca's reputation.
I just got to Karamelle for the second time, and good lord. I hadn't forgotten how much I hated it, but it hit me like a wall of bricks. And I'm already preparing myself to marathon it and be fucking done questing here for at least a year.
I think it breaks down like this.
Baby's first workers rights movement/sugary-sweet surveillance state Listen. I know this is a game that doesn't allow for player characters to have much individual impact on the in-game narrative. I know we've had to do errands for cops. I know we work for a war criminal. I KNOW there are flaws in the system. But there's something about the way that Karamelle's set up that makes it all feel so. much. worse. And that's the fact that Karamelle has such a stellar reputation within the Spiral before this. The happiest place in the Spiral, the sweetest treats in the Spiral. Everyone seems to fucking love this place. Almost no one outside of those actually working there seem to understand how corrupt it is. And so the YW is talked down to at every turn, like this is their first exposure to a corrupt environment. And sure, maybe it is within, canon. YW gets isekai'd at a very young age and then made into a child soldier, maybe this is actually the first time in canon that they've been introduced to these concepts. But (and this may just be me) it feels really rude to the player -- who might actually have experience with these ideas -- to make them feel like a fucking idiot with the dialogue options. Karamelle's characters just feel rude.
Oh, so the Gobblers were a fatphobic, Roald Dahl type thing from the start. Cool cool cool. Any of you ever read Roald Dahl's book "The Twits"? It's a very unremarkable story all things considered, except for this bit.
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Aside from Roald Dahl's unavoidable history of antisemitism, does this remind you of anything? Honestly, this reminds me of the Gobbblers.
We first meet the Gobblers around level 10 in Wizard City -- creatures driven by consumption. And then we get to Empyrea and hear that the Alphoi -- skinny "civilized" creatures -- can become Gobblers if they eat too much or are unhealthy in their eating habits. Which makes one of our oldest running enemies a loop-around fatphobic thing, ESPECIALLY when we get to them in Karamelle, the home world of the Gobblers. Rosina, especially, just oozes fatphobia and diet culture. The literal vilification of being fat isn't even subtext, it's just text.
The Old One, The Cabal, and what to do when your escape from the world ends up shoving what you were escaping from right back in your face. When I was in sophomore year of college, fall of 2019, I had one of the worst mental health periods of my life. Antisemitism was fucking everywhere, I was always a moment away from a panic attack, and it felt like no one understood. While I'm lucky in the fact that I was able to get an official diagnosis for genetically inherited PTSD, alongside the reassurance that I wasn't fucking crazy, there was a period when I just needed to go home for a moment. So when I was going back to my dorm from the dining hall to make sure all my stuff was ready to go, I opened up tumblr and made a post on a long-gone RP sideblog I had for the Swedish Chef (y'know, from The Muppets? long story), and before I'd even gotten halfway across campus, I'd received threatening and violent messages from someone RPing as Borat, which only got worse when they realized they were talking to an actual Jewish person.
That escape from reality didn't even last five fucking minutes before the horrors I was trying to avoid found me.
Now, Wizard101 has always been a source of comfort for me. I made my account fourteen years ago, and I do not know what my life would look like if I hadn't done that. There are flaws with this game, yes, sure, but over the past five years (since I got a wiz compatible laptop) I've developed a bit of a reliance on it to get me through the horrors. No better form of escapism.
But no art form is free of the horrors.
And Wizard101 has the fucking Cabal and Old One.
The Cabal within the fiction of Wizard101 is a secret, nefarious organization pulling the strings on events across the Spiral, controlling history from the shadows. This term literally originates in antisemitic conspiracy theory, with the term 'cabal' originating from the term for Jewish mysticism, 'kabbalah'. And I promise you, you've heard plenty of applications of this conspiracy theory in real life too. It feeds into the idea that Jews (or 'global elite') control the government, the media, the banks.
And then, we get to the man in control of it all. The Old One. Whether or not this was intended, he's a walking, talking antisemitic caricature. The octopus as a symbol for the mythical Elders of Zion is a longstanding dogwhistle (see attached for a guide to this and many other visual dogwhistles). "Oh, he's based on H.P. Lovecraft-" So he's based on the works of a famous racist and antisemite, cool cool cool.
It's just exhausting, walking through a world that is so clearly modeled after Germany and other parts of eastern Europe, and finding antisemitism around every corner. And even more exhausting considering it's almost impossible to tell if they meant to do it. Antisemitism is so fucking ingrained in the world at this point that I don't actually know what they meant to do here, what they did maliciously or out of ignorance, or if any of it was put in with the purpose of turning it on its head. Over the past few years, it has become glaringly obvious that a lot of people don't realize when they're running across antisemitism, or even taking part in it. Including people I really thought would know better.
Side note. For those of you who know I see Dasein as Jewish, you may be wondering how I balance that out with the antisemitic nature of The Old One, since they share a physical form. I think of it like this. Dasein did not choose The Old One. He did not choose to resemble that, but he can attempt to reclaim it. Dasein's Judaism comes not from the resemblance he holds to the hatred that haunts us, but from the love that keeps us going. He questions authority and longstanding tradition, chooses to do what's right instead of what's expected, and is kind in the face of hatred. He literally makes himself, and a world, out of nothingness. Something out of Nothing. He's so Jewish you guys.
The Spiral's "Worst World Award" goes to... I know we all say "fuck Azteca" pretty often on this website, but I don't think it deserves to be deigned the worst world in Wiz. My main gripe with Azteca is how inaccessible it gets after Xibalba strikes -- the flashing lights aren't exactly photosensitive friendly. Which further lends frustration to my completionist nature, meaning I have to finish all quests, badges, and fishing before I finish the world (making it take forever to finish). Aside from that, there really isn't that much wrong with the world (and if you argue that it sucks because you can't save Azteca, I get it, but some tragedies are inescapable by their very nature). It's a problem of gameplay, versus a problem of plot in the case of Karamelle. And maybe its just because I'm a writer, but problems with plot feel much more egregious. I really do think Karamelle deserves more vitriol than it gets.
G-d, I can't wait to get to Lemuria.
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Note
Hey!! So these days I’ve remembered a joke that was quite popular in the fandom about Shinichiro not being able to get a girl because Wakasa was always with him and they would choose Waka over Shin. I just wonder how much of this could be true, since we don’t have any info of Wakasa interest in this topic or if he know he is good-looking and uses it to his favor.
Idk it is nice to hear your thoughts about it.
Hi there!!
First of all, I love the idea that Shinichiro got rejected so many time because of a bunch of different reasons, one being that his flirting skills are so bad his awkwardness somehow surpasses his good looks (I'll argue that in-canon he was meant to embody any average Japanese man with no specific physical trait (despite having a mixed-race dad) but like, scratch that, Shinichiro is handsome. Perhaps not in an outstanding, eye-catching way, but he is very good looking.) and leads to girls basically running away because he's being overly head over heels for a first meeting, is being a tiny bit too hopelessly romantic than it's acceptable (and sounds desperate sometimes) or starts talking about bikes because he saw an opportunity to and he lovesss talking about them (and the only other conversation topic that comes easily to him is his siblings) so it can go on for hours - so they leave. Shame on them.
(Another reason is because he goes up to girls he saw from afar before confessing his love and they reject him because.. they don't know him - at most they know his face but he barely if ever spoke with them. He's a loser, I love him)
Secondly: Wakasa's part in all of this.
We already know Wakasa loves to mess with people, to troll them (it's in the guide book), and we also know that Wakasa - alongside Benkei - made fun of Shinichiro rather often (teen Wakasa and teen Benkei's sole two lines are really just this lol (chapter 230 and 269)). I'd find it hard to believe for Wakasa to not be aware of his attractiveness. I don't see him looking for a relationship, but he must know the impact he has on others - even only objectively speaking.
So honestly? I think he'd do it, yeah, just to laugh at Shinichiro (playfully of course, he has no ill intent). It also helps to sort girls who'd go to other (more attractive or not) men given the chance. Shinichiro would do bad with casual relationships, he wants to give all of his heart to the person he loves, he doesn't want one that can end. Wakasa rather have Shinichiro cry because 'it's unfair!! a girl was finally interested in me, why did you have to steal her heart?!!' than get his heart broken because he thought they had something only for her to leave once she found someone else.
(Alternatively, Shinichiro simply whining that if Wakasa wasn't there, he'd have a girlfriend by now because they wouldn't just all focus on Wakasa - whether he did anything for them to focus on him or not)
It robs Shinichiro from possible relationships, but it's more of a test from Wakasa than a mean joke. Because Shinichiro is his dear friend and he deserves the best. He gets hurt easily, and one of Wakasa's job - as a friend and as one of Black Dragon member - is to protect him to the best of his capacities. Physical and emotional wounds both
Also it's funny to see Shinichiro's reactions to it.
And it's not like he does something everytime - people look at him more than they look at Shinichiro whether he intends for it or not! He's not stopping it, though
I may have gotten too serious about a fandom joke, oopsies
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coopigeoncoo · 1 month
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Meat Cute, Chapter 11
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Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 11 ->Next
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Rating: Mature (rating may change)
Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing
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In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!
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“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”
–--
A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.
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Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!
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“Salutations!  Are you free today?” Alastor asked, having materialized next to you only moments ago.  Too busy to be properly startled by his sudden appearance, you stare out across the boisterous mass of customers that had crammed themselves into the store to take advantage of the spur of the moment promotional sale Hal had decided to run.
“No-”
“Fantastic!” Alastor cackled, grabbing hold of your arm firmly while snapping the fingers on his free hand.  Darkness overtook your vision and for a terrifying moment you lost the ability to decipher which way was up, as though you were being pulled equally in every direction all at once.  
But you were very quickly reacquainted with the concept of down as the darkness abruptly receded; legs buckling under you as gravity kicked back into working order.  It was only by the grace of Alastor's firm grip that you didn't crumple to the ground in an inelegant heap.
The furniture had been rearranged, couches pushed alongside the walls to make room for a half circle of easels in the center of the room, but you were still able to immediately recognize the parlor of the Hazbin Hotel from your previous visit.
“Cease your lamentations, compatriots, for I have returned!” Alastor called, tugging you forward as he strode purposefully towards an empty pair of easels.
“Lamenting?  Sorry, but these are tears of joy clouding my eyes,” the gray-skinned woman scoffed as Alastor pulled out one of the tufted stools for you to perch on.  
“Vaggie!” Charlie scolded, casting a reprimanding look at the woman seated at the easel next to her.  
“What?  I'm just saying what we're all thinking!” Vaggie responded, flicking a dismissive hand towards Alastor. “It's better when he's not skulking around and creeping up the place.”
“A-fucking-men to that,” Husk grumbled, lifting a nearly empty bottle of vodka to salute Vaggie in a show of solidarity.
“Well, I'm glad you're here,” Charlie said, smiling brightly at you and Alastor.  “Both of you.”
“It's a pleasure to be back,” you said, smiling politely as you examined the collection of pencils on your easel tray and doing your best to pretend like you'd willingly agreed to be here.
“You're all covered in blood,” the tiny woman seated on the other side of you proclaimed, her single eye shining brightly.  
“Ah- yes.  Yes, I am,” you grimaced, running a hand self-consciously down your blood spattered apron.  “I just came from work.”
“I like it,” Niffty grinned, shooting you the smallest thumbs up you'd ever seen.  Despite the fact that there was no way she could possibly be as sweet as she appeared, you couldn't help but find her exaggerated petiteness adorable.  
“Thank you,” you smiled, taking note of the similar blood-spattered state of her apron.  “I like yours, too.  It looks very fresh.”
“It is!” Niffty squealed, kicking her legs in delight.  “We have a rat infestation like you wouldn't believe!  They might be smarter than me, and faster than me, and have twice as many eyes than me, but they have to sleep eventually!”
You were saved from having to formulate a response by the double doors in the back of the room slamming open, revealing Angel Dust artistically draped in a crisp white sheet.  
“Alright, you buncha’ degenerates,” Angel calls out as he strode confidently towards to easels on impossibly willowy legs; clambering up on top of an overturned apple crate.  “It's time we class up this joint and take in a bit of culture for once!”
With an elegant shrug Angel dropped the sheet, revealing his completely nude form.
“Make sure to get my good side,” Angel Dust purred over his shoulder before bending over and grabbing his ankles, fully exposing his derriere and everything in between. 
“Unholey Moley! ” You screech in surprise, snapping your head to the side to politely avert your gaze.  
“Oh, c'mon!” Angel laughed.  “Ain't you ever seen a work of art before?”
“Is that what you're supposed to be?” Vaggie scoffed, examining the tray of pencils in front of her before randomly picking one out with an irritated grimace.
“Uh, obviously," Angel scoffed, running his hands down the side of his thighs provocatively. “My body is a masterpiece and I know how to work it!”
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“Could I perhaps tempt you with a drink before we depart?” Alastor enquired as he tidied his drawing tools, examining his astoundingly accurate portrait with critically narrowed eyes.  
“I…could honestly really use a drink right now,” you mumbled wearily, rubbing firm circles over your closed eyes with the heels of your hands.
“Husker, my good man!” Alastor called out across the room to where the rest of the residents were packing up their materials and preparing to disperse to parts of the Hotel unknown.  “Would you be so kind as to pour me and my lady friend a couple of nightcaps?”
“Do I have a fuckin’ choice?” Husk grumbled, stomping over to the bar and throwing his sketchpad down onto the counter with a loud thwack.
“Haha- no!” Alastor laughed, guiding you towards a barstool with a firm hand on your lower back.  
“Alright,” Husk grumbled, leveling you with an exhausted glare.  “Pick your poison.”
“Whatever kills me the fastest,” you respond immediately, visions of Angel Dust's contorted body still burned into your retinas.  “I'm not in the business of prolonging my own suffering.”
“Of course you aren't, that's my job!” Alastor interjected, lifting the faceted glass Husk had slid to him towards your person.  You lifted your own tall shooter in response, clinking your glass against his solidly.  
You threw back your drink, the fiery burn of the liquor distracting you from feeling the full weight of Husker's disbelieving gaze.
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It was hard to keep count of how many drinks you'd imbibed with how attentive a barkeep Husker was.  When you and Dorcas went out drinking you'd build up a veritable wall of glasses before the bartender cared enough to collect the empty cups.  
It might have been the presence of an Overlord that made Husk so attentive, clearing discarded glassware the very instant it hit the counter; but based on how busy Husk managed to keep himself arranging garnishes and refilling ice trays you were willing to wager that he took a lot of pride in maintaining an orderly workstation.  
“How did you find today's activity?” Alastor asked, his clawed hand circling the rim of a crystal glass; delighting in the quiet hum the action created.  “Did you enjoy baring your artistic side?”
“I don't know,” you sighed, poking at the drawing pad beside you with a stiff finger, the visible page crammed with wobbly figures you had drawn as fast as possible in between bouts of extreme mortification.  “I think the only one baring anything was probably Angel Dust.”
“Quite so!” Alastor agreed with a grin. “I suppose you could say it was a very revealing exercise.”
“We really exposed ourselves to new experiences!”
“I think I'm au natural at drawing!”
“You definitely have some raw talent,” you tittered, finally unable to maintain your composure and letting a full-bodied laugh overtake you; Alastor's hearty chuckle joining in only moments later.
“Oh, God-fucking-dammit,” Husk swore as he watched you and Alastor revel in shared mirth.  “Now there's two of them!”
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“So, you and the Radio Demon, huh?” Husk inquired with a casual air that was negated by the fact he had been intensely wiping down the same spot of the bar top while waiting for a conversational opening to present itself.  
“Hmm?” You mumbled, head heavy in your palms as the alcohol flooded your system and left your thoughts fuzzy and sluggish.
“You're, y'know,” Husk paused, waving his hands around in vague circles through the air. “with Alastor?”
“Course not,” you reply, taking a moment to belch inelegantly into your hand. “He's over there tallin’ to- talking to Charlie.”
“No, that's not what I- ughhh,” Husk groaned as he scrubbed an exasperated hand down his face.  “I just want to make sure you aren't in any sort of trouble.  Not that I can really do anything if Alastor's involved.  But you seem like an alright sort of girl.”
You shifted focus across the room to where Alastor stood, his cane serving to prop him up more than he'd ever admit now that was likely more whiskey than man at this point.  Charlie said something he obviously didn't agree with, his nose crinkling in distaste in a way that reminded you of when your family cat made the mistake of investigating a stink bug too closely; a reaction you found entirely too adorable for a man who routinely flossed his teeth with human sinew.
“Ohhhhh.  No, I'm definitely in trouble,” you sighed, trying to position your head back onto your hand and missing entirely, stars dancing across your vision as your skull collided with the hard wood of the polished bar top.  “I'm in waaaaay over my head.”
Husk hummed in acknowledgment as he made the executive decision to cut you off, grabbing your half empty glass and tossing back the second-hand spirits while you fruitlessly tried to keep yourself balanced on the bar stool without toppling to the side.  
“I have no clue what I even did to catch the inchrest- the interescht?  Enteresque ?” You stammer, pouting before giving up and selecting a word with fewer syllables to trip over.  “The notice of someone like Alastor.  ‘s only a matter of time before he gets bored and turns his attention to someone else.  I just hope I don't get too attached before that happens, ya’ know?”
“Ah,” Husk breathed, eyes darting across the room to where Angel Dust sat, reclining dramatically across a chaise lounge, phone cameras flashing in each of his hands as he used his additional limbs to capture selfies from multiple angles simultaneously.  He had wrapped the dressing sheet around himself to highlight every dip and curve of his body, a flawless vision that made Husker viscerally aware of how mangy and worn he was in comparison. “Yeah, I know that feelin’.”
You and Husker shared a moment of quiet solidarity as you both gazed at your partners across the parlor, each lost in thought and considering the inevitable end of the paths you each had found yourselves on.  
“Shit sucks,” you grumble discontentedly, blindly reaching around the counter for your missing drink.  With a deep chuckle of agreement, Husk pushed a cup of water into your outstretched hand; adding a bendy straw when it became obvious that bringing a cup to your mouth without spilling half of it down the front of your dress was completely out of the realm of possibility.  
��It sure does, girlie.  It sure fucking does.”
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Tag List:
@wendds, @matpatsstuff, @qardasngan, @polytheatrix,
@sirens-and-moonflowers, @venusdandy
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st-armand · 1 year
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Author’s Notes: Earth-138 & 138B are the same, Hobie lives in New London (NY after British V.E.N.O.M associates take over the city alongside NYC Venom affiliates).
The magical girl references in this head cannon are Sailor Moon after the final season; Post Sailor Galaxia, technically from a worldbuilding head canon I have of the scouts after Neo Tokyo.
Hobie Brown x Magical Girl!Reader Headcanons Part 1
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This one is for all my hobie lovers, feast well.
Tags: Fem implied reader with the term ‘magical girl’, Reader is portrayed as Sailor Saturn, black reader but can be read as any and all
Warnings: Magical girls are scary, Mentions of Violence, Political Ideologies, Light Gore, LONG ASF
• Hobie isn’t naive, he lives in a multiverse with infinite possibilities and circumstances, even in his own earth and its surrounding universe there exists mutants, heroes, chaos and beings of extraordinary skills and abilities.
• So its safe to say he isn’t necessarily surprised, but he is amused by the prospect of worlds where the boundaries between reality, the alchemical, and the magical are thinner than what most would even be able to theorize it to be.
I have two ideas of how Hobie meets you:
1. He meets you through another spider—Senshi Araneus aka the Red Spider Nebula one who instead of a traditional spider suit, they have a transformation-based suit, so they’re more likely to be seen out of transformation than in it, since it’s an almost instantaneous change.
So let’s say there’s a dangerous anomaly running amuck in the magical spider’s universe, which is where he meets their friends, comrades, and you.
• The Spider team all have this collective idea that the world where you come from is filled with childlike wonder, and merriment, due to the kind, accommodating and just nature of Araneus, are shocked upon arrival.
(For now at least) it is similar our current world set in an unknown future timeline, the world is amidst a revolution for the fall of economic systems and classes to one founded by the people under a magical galactic ordinance.
New York and Japan are the largest ungoverned magical cities renamed Millennium Lenapehoking and Neo Tokyo.
• The politics of your world fascinates Hobie. You exist in a timeline ripe for molding society into the shape of liberation, and to do so taking up a mantle to fight oppression on earth and across constellations, this ABSOLUTELY riles Hobie up.
He lead a liberative revolution in his own world, and still has to fight fascists to keep peace within his community, so he sees the mantle that magical people uphold on a galactic scale, he empathizes and genuinely respects your fight and struggle.
• The more time he spends in your world, the more he falls in love with it— from the crystalline structures, to the modes of space travel, and especially the clothes that are made to replicate the fashion eras of planets, he finds it especially amusing that punk is classified as a vintage, but he is enthralled at by the future of punk and how the style evolves to match the magical and futuristic styles of the people and aliens on the planet.
• CONSTANTLY asks Senshi Araneus for weekly correspondence between the two of you, it starts off sweet with exchanging gifts from each other’s worlds, then evolves into having whole conversations with Araneus being the messenger between the two of you.
They get annoyed with it quickly, and opts to give Hobie an unlicensed multiverse communication device from your world, he uses it, but shrugs his shoulder languidly and says something along the lines of, “Don’t need it mate, jus’ made my own.”
• Has a group chat with Araneus, you and some other Senshi where you all listen to him complain about Miguel and talk about how terrible his politics are, recently Hobie spends HOURS complaining about the Miles incident (it’s still a sore spot),
but you all like to spam Hobie with photos of creatures and other beings yall meet, your private messages consists of selfies of your mundane days, your day job, updating him on the fun you have with other senshi, but his favorites are the photos you take, face sweaty, styled hair ragged, and your uniform in tatters after a particularly hard battle, flecks of magic flittering in your determined eyes you remind him of a predator, confident in its stride after a good hunt.
2. You also live in Earth-138(B) and while the public information around Magical People is limited to anecdotes from people’s experiences with magical girls, or comics around those who’ve seen them in action, little to none is known about the pretty vigilantes plowing through villains, criminals, corruption, slavery, and fascists.
• You live in New London, your family lived there before the British occupation when NYC became NL.
It was essentially the same, but the difference can be spotted between residential slang, and state sanctioned zoning.
• You’ve been a magical girl since 12, you spent your entire life fighting monsters, corrupted humans, other magical peoples, cops, government spies, you name it, and you’ve fought it and lived, you’re quite privileged in that aspect
• You became a senshi after a traumatic event, cornered in an alley, moments from death, or whatever gruesome ideas your assailant could think of, your body couldn’t handle the stress and anxiety, your star crystal was activated to protect its owner.
When you came to, all that remained were disintegrated bodies and chunks of flesh.
• The first time Hobie meets you, he’s an older teen, mostly accustomed to his duties as Spiderman of his world, and New London, aiding him in the fight against a beast, a V.E.N.O.M synthesized Chimera, in all of its many headed and limbed glory, had attacked the city.
Hobie did his best to contain it, but a monster with few weak points and unpredictable strikes, his spidey senses were a bit overwhelmed.
• Just as he is in the most compromising position battling the enemy, having no aid, and focusing on keep bystanders safe, you came down upon him like a rapture, a visage of death amongst its ghastly horse.
You take down the Chimera with an earth-shattering blow, severing its head with an immaculately clean cut.
• To Hobie you are the visage of destruction, the essence of a vengeful deity that graces its people with salvation, but severs those unworthy of it.
He is enamored by your strength, adoration graces his masked face, but before he gets a quip in to break the ice, you depart—fly really, leaving him with the carcass.
• Hobie only ever sees you in your senshi uniform during fights with extraordinary powers and abilities, or public demonstrations, keeping protestors safe, killing off cops, and helping to rebuild infrastructure in NL.
• Hobie does see you often out of uniform, specifically at a store ‘Clash & Kill’ where many punks go to craft, and barter for accessories.
He always sees you admiring the leatherwork of the items, even smelling them, he learns later you do this to verify if its real leather, this always makes him laugh, he loves to tease you about it too, “You smellin’ the wares again, huh?”
• He won’t know your identity as a magical girl until he’s transparent about his role as Spiderman, this will cause clashes in the relationship that’s fostered between the two of you, but love is a work in progress right?
Comments, Questions, Criticisms?? Im still getting used to formating on tumblr posts so im always down to listen to tips and advice
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ctheathy · 1 year
Text
Secret History Tails Headcanons
Secret History Tails x Reader
General+Fluff Headcanons [SFW]
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Due to him showing quite the difference in personality in both the original Secret Histories and TSAA I’m gonna try keeping both “versions’’ of them in different sections, as the particular state would also truly determine on how he’d possibility be as a lover. He’ll still be known as SH Tails among both sides though
Secret History Tails/Reader
Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :
Brainwashing trauma [On Tails’ part] • Mention of bullying // harassment • General yandere-ish behaviour • Slight possessiveness • Jealousy • Trust Issues • Implied murder • Worship
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Let’s start with his og version, shall we? I can see him being a somewhat tough cookie to crack, not wanting to accept the fact he may be adoring somebody the same way, or perhaps even more so than he does with Sonic. I have personally always just kept the headcanon that SH Tails is really just a brainwashed version of the regular Miles Prower among that universe; feeling determined to worship and devote himself to Sonic, almost as it’s the literal meaning of his entire existence.
And that’s exactly where the major difference with you comes in.
When given genuine kindness, you earn his love and compassion instead of literally being entitled to it. He remains in severe denial about it for a while, but that soft spot is definitely growing when you’re going out of your way to dote on him. Despite seeming to lack lucidity in this state, he definitely isn’t some fool; He’s very well aware of the literal degradation Sonic had given him during that time, but he just let it happen due to his obsession with somebody who practically doesn’t even exist, atleast not for his position, that is. He seems to have trouble facing the differences between those who in his words are considered “imposters” and those who are being genuine; but you’d likely just take over that entire imagery of Sonic that’s been plastered into his mind when just being a decent human being//mobian torwards him, and in order to do so, it really just requires patience.
But even so, his masquerade would end up shattering into a million pieces eventually; wanting to do nothing but give into your angelic words, encouragement and comforts so badly. During this process he’d suddenly become a very clingy mobian, wanting to do nothing but grab your hands, hold you close, and just be alongside you each and every minute of the day. He’s one to grow pretty attached to those who are reasonable enough to treat him as an equal being, likely being one to go as far as worshipping a darling who holds a neutrally sweet demeanour, who’s able to give chances and atleast consider getting to know him instead of running away with their tail between their legs. Those who have been scared for their lives around the fox or just make him out to be some unsettling crackhead at first glance have definitely caused atleast some more unsteadyness to be created in his system. The word trustworthy has been lacking around him for such a long time that he honestly struggles to keep up with any sudden tender gestures, which is why warming him up to it makes him a whole lot more open in genuinely trying for both his own and your sake.
Another cute thing being is that he’d absolutely wrap you around in his tails like they’re a pair of covers, keeping you warm and wishing to keep you safe from any potential threats around at all costs. Talking about his tails; compliment them, hug them, bring your attention onto them in a positive manner, I dare you. In my canon, he was still very much bullied by the bystanders close to his home, and even now, nasty comments are oftentimes still given due to similar reasonings or the blue hedgehog’s complaints alone. And although he wouldn’t exactly understand why due to memory loss of the Sega brainwashing, but a few tears would for sure manage to slip their ways down his cheeks at some point.
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Tails from the TSAA series was a slightly ... Difficult one to say the least. His obsession with Sonic has reached the point of undoable and unsavoury acts in the purpose of finding the said ‘real Sonic’, who realistically speaking; is still back at his original alternate part of the universe, potentially making him search for an ultimatum which he’ll never truly find. Let’s say you’re a self aware individual in this one who tagged along with him in order to potentially make the realisation set in that the work is not even worth it in the end, that it’s technically not even possible to begin with. You're against his plan and doings yet you still managed to steal his heart? Sneaky, sneaky little thing that you are.
While Tails back in Secret Histories would be a whole lot more careless, just wanting to be touchy with you and return all of the adoration he’s denied for such a long time, I cannot help but think the Tails in this position would be a whole lot more gentle with you; having lacked true companionship for such a long time, to believing he’d quite literally break you when truly giving in on what he actually desires. He adores you for you, he’s happened to learn a lot from your knowledge and truly appreciates your company, but he’s fearful in a way. He knows he could easily be one to just manipulate his way into the things he wants, but he knows it’s just as much fake if he literally has to break you in order to do so. You’d might as well be one another of the imposters he’s always despised so much and that’s honestly the last thing he’d wish to showcase you as.
Over time though, I can see him opening up a whole lot more and accepting the passion you’ve always offered with open arms after making a hundred percent sure it wouldn’t make a change on you in the slightest. I believe genuine benevolence and sympathy from another is what would slowly cause the fox to give up on finding this ‘real Sonic’ his head has been so desperate in creating. You’ll help him recover from his brainwashing trauma and let him very well known about the fact that he did not deserve anything that happened to him. He’s hesitant, but with you alongside him, I could finally see him putting this unrealistic fixation of his aside. Being unimaginably thankful for now gaining the love from somebody he’s yearned for for such a long time without gaslighting needing to be used nor potentially feeling the need to press a knife against the other’s throat in order for them to openly enjoy his company
Something on a sadder note, however, is how he’d likely gain these upsetting moments on how he cannot go back to either his true world due to the chaos he’s caused nor stay in any of the other dimensions because of them already having their own alternate versions of himself. To which you’re experienced in comforting the two tailed fox, but you however do not have an actual solution to the problem. You instead, help him consider making the best out of both of your positions in the multiverse. The two of you clumsily yet romantically dance your ways down together through the said ‘slide’, you sometimes end up entering other universes due to both of your curiosities getting the best of you, and you let him rant about the things he knows with a curious and interested expression on your face; there’s never really been anybody who listened to him in the way you have, so hearing the enthusiasm in his voice and sometimes even seeing his tails wag in excitement, honestly made everything worth it to you.
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Bonus section : Similarities
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A massive similarity that cannot go unnoticed is that both sides of them really wouldn't require much more than somebody who does genuinely love them but also happens to be strong enough to keep him restrained on healthy levels and keep up with any considerable obsessiveness he may show from time to time; so there’s suggested you carefully keep up to any hinted warnings in possessive behaviour and mannerisms. He’d be a whole lot more likely to stalk you during this process, wanting to keep a close eye open on both your safety and to prevent anybody else from pushing you into funny business. You’re his beautiful significant other and he shall go to intense levels to keep it that way, even if this includes in taking some sad bystander’s life cause they decided to corner you in a lustful manner without the slightest bit of consent even being given in the first place. And it’s not like he’d even be willing to believe you’d do such things with another to begin with, you’re too pure in his eyes.
Another concept for a fox character I wish to keep myself to, is the fact that they’re known to mate for life, which also just so happens to add in on atleast slight possessive behaviour on the both of them. Tails, in particular, works very well with explosives and any kinds of machinery work; so when taking notice upon anybody getting even the slightest bit too close for comfort, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use the malfunction excuse as a way in order to keep you accessible in the relationship. Hopefully you’d be one to prevent him from doing so as much as you possibly could though, as something that could cause bigger issues for your alliance in perhaps future occurrences would include not correcting him. He’d surely still be one to wrap his body around your own in a defensive manner, literally growling at the pedestrian oppositely of your own spot, but knowing how much he worships and looks up to you, he’d likely be one to listen on conditions of gaining enough reassurance over time and keeping a whole amount of your attention on him.
Despite how the sanity levels seem to dangerously be on the borderline of instability at some points of the relationship, I do remain to see him as atleast somewhat tameable. Due to the clinginess both versions of him hold, he’d be quite vulnerable to you in both positions aswell, almost feeling intimidated by you in a way. He worships your entire being and quite frankly views you as a godsend, feeling the need to prove himself in any way possible. At the end of the day, despite any of the flaws they may hold, from Secret Histories or TSAA, they’re both fairly passionate lovers and could genuinely be good ones as long as given a chance. He promises you’re truly in good hands- But even then, it remains important knowing what you’re potentially getting yourself into
as he sure as hell won’t let you go after your commitment.
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bluetooththereptile · 11 months
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I really loved the being a Wayne fics ❤️
How about headcanons instead of Male reader planning to escape he just studies really hard to go to a college far away from his family what would they do?
I mean it's a great option but I don't think it'd be turned into a head Canon. First of all thank you for liking my work! I'm happy people liked it, but let us face it, how on earth would the male reader be able to get away from the family when Bruce practically can buy the whole state, Dick being in the police force alongside Barbara, and Tim being a genius in hacking everything? Not to mention a giant of a clingy and hurt bear called Jason who would breath close to your neck all the time? You wouldn't even be able to go to college, if you want to study, Bruce can arrange the best professors to have private online courses with you, hell he can buy you a degree! But you can't get away, the law unfortunately only recognizes power and money, something that Bruce is known for. The only option for getting away is running away.
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animezinglife · 3 months
Text
Gifts of the Sea
Acelia had never expected to be a High Lord's mate.
Genre: Fluff/General/Romance Post-canon, Tarquin x OC one-shot featuring the backstory between Tarquin and Acelia. This is a companion piece to Late Nights in Summer (recommended reading to provide context). Please do not re-post this anywhere. Special thanks to @lucienarcheron, @zenkindoflove, @crazy-ache, @teddyhoneybear, and all else who've offered such sweet support of my Elucien fics. I hope you don't mind me trying something new! Gifts of the Sea is now featured in the Summer One-Shots Collection on AO3! Click here to read. A bonus moodboard can be found here.
Acelia hadn’t missed the look in Elain Archeron’s eyes when the female had spoken about her mate. To call it enamored would’ve been an understatement: she’d been practically glowing every time she spoke of Lucien, and neither she nor Cresseida had missed it. 
The more Elain drank, the more amusing she had become.
Neither Acelia nor the princess had had any reservations about returning her to him in her state: Lucien was a good male, and she would’ve known it even if Tarquin had never confided his trust in the male with her. Though she knew her mate didn’t have a perfect track record when it came to trust, he had strong instincts when it came to character.
Any lessons he’d had left to learn where his easy confidence in others had once been concerned, Feyre Archeron had taught him otherwise.
Acelia respected the balance her mate ruled the Summer Court with: he believed in giving trust and chances, yet knew when to be firm and what boundaries needed to be set. He was far from an iron-fist ruler, instead a casual and respected High Lord who wore his youth as plainly as his kindness. 
She loved that about him. 
She might even appreciate it more if not for her own roaring headache. Unlike her new friend, Acelia was accustomed to Summer drinks, but still coming off the rush of her mating ceremony, she’d still had a bit too much.
She rested a hand against her head as Tarquin sat beside her on the chaise and handed her a goblet of water. She took it, swirling its contents and taking a deep breath of the cool, salty air. 
Acelia had never expected to be a High Lord’s mate; had never anticipated she might one day lounge on a palace balcony overlooking the ocean nursing an alcohol-induced headache. She breathed in deeply and took a small sip before downing the goblet’s contents and letting out a relaxed sigh. Silently, Tarquin took it from her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She turned slightly and kissed his hand, taking in his familiar, comforting scent of salt and citrus.
She had been born in Summer, too: shared many of the same characteristics of the court’s High Fae as her mate and Cresseida did. Though unlike them, she’d been born to a humble family: a fisherman father and a mother who ran their small market shop. She’d begun helping them with both as soon as she’d been old enough, assuming she’d one day sail the seas herself or run the shop alongside her mother.
Being a High Lord’s mate–loving and marrying him–had never been in the picture.
Acelia smirked slightly: her parents still didn’t know what to make of the ordeal either and had no idea what to even do with their new income. They’d opted to stay in their village but visited often, and while they’d insisted they didn’t need a more lavish shop, she was glad they’d at least invested in a newer, sturdier fishing boat, and that her father had even been able to hire some help. Most of all, she was glad they’d finally begun to indulge in vacations and rest.
Tarquin’s voice interrupted her thoughts, his voice as soft as the mist from the sea. “How are you feeling?” 
“Like I’ve been hit by a storm,” she replied, unable to resist smiling back as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m upright and coherent, at least.”
“I’m surprised you’re drunk at all.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “My cousin didn’t pressure you, did she? I know she enjoys her fun.”
“Not at all.” It had been a running joke between them that despite her small stature, Acelia could hold her drink as well as any male. It often surprised others how well given how rarely she touched alcohol compared to most Fae–drinks in Summer didn’t run cheap, and Acelia had never quite shaken her frugal ways no matter how generous Tarquin was. “I really like them. Elain seems quite different than how you described her sister.” 
Tarquin’s blue eyes softened as he seemed to drift into thought. For a moment, he was quiet. “Feyre was in a difficult situation, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust me or not.”
“That didn’t stop you from trusting her.”
“No.” Tarquin smirked slightly, taking her emptied goblet and setting it aside. “But I’m glad to leave that mess behind us. Even if I’ll always have extra security when she and Rhysand visit. Just in case.”
“I’d question your judgment if you didn’t.” Acelia’s heart fluttered as his smirk turned to a smile: her favorite one of his, all softness and a subtle shyness she would almost call boyish. She felt their bond flowing through them like a current, pulling them to each other in a way that she imagined would be futile to resist. She had never imagined the Mother, the Cauldron, or whatever forces determined such fates would gift her such a thing: mating bonds were the sort of romantic fantasies she’d read about in books as a child or sung about in old sailors’ shanties. 
Such things certainly were not the fates of daughters of a village fisherman; of the keeper of a small, run-down shop. 
And yet she’d sensed it when the High Lord had visited their village; had spoken with every fisherman, every blacksmith, every sailor, and every shopkeeper. She had seen the way her mother had clutched her chest when Tarquin had spoken to her, as if aware of the same, unexplainable force Acelia had been feeling.
At the time, she’d assumed she’d merely been overwhelmed in the presence of a High Lord. 
But Tarquin had looked back as he’d been leaving the shop, his brow furrowed and eyes searching for an answer neither of them yet knew.
He had written to her. Their conversations had lengthened through letters, though there had only been so much a High Lord could say through such means. Acelia had found herself spilling aspects of herself she’d never shared with anyone: of her love of the sea, of the old myths and legends that filled her mind and heart as a child, and of her hopes to one day see Adriata with her own eyes. Somehow, she swore she could feel his quiet, shaking laugh when she'd shared the time a pirate had tried to rob her family's shop, and in her panic, she'd hit him over the head with a bucket and knocked him out cold.
To her surprise, Tarquin had shared with her, too: had spoken to her of his love of the sea at night when all was quiet; of the myths and legends that had scared him as a boy, and of his deepest fears that he might never be worthy of the role he’d found himself in. When he had visited their village again, she’d had the sneaking suspicion he’d had an ulterior motive despite his routine of speaking with every villager.
His eyes had lingered on her a bit too long, and that afternoon she had found herself sailing out with the High Lord of Summer in her father’s old, weathered fishing boat. He had been remarkably easy to talk to; his smile warm and his eyes making her heart race in ways it never had.
Acelia still had never expected the letter to come inviting her to visit the city, or how he phrased it so carefully.
I do not ask this of you as a high lord.
I hope we may always speak as friends.
She had arrived in Adriata only weeks later to a whirlwind: a flurry of introductions by a mutually excited and suspicious Cresseida, a humble if not somewhat comical introduction of Varian, whose hair had been partially singed off in what had only been described to her as, "an incident with the Illyrian bastards."
And all the while, Acelia had fallen in love with the city; its people. The people of Adriata, a peculiar mix of Fae and human refugees still lingering from the war with Hybern, lived vastly different lives than what she’d ever known. Yet there was a warmth to them, and a compassion and caring she’d both seen and felt in Tarquin that had begun to draw her to him.
In ways she hadn’t been sure would qualify as friendly.
She still hadn’t known what to call it the first time he’d kissed her. That had been during her third visit after a full year of communication through letters and Tarquin’s visits. She was sure she was beginning to love him–he was the sort of male who proved easy to love. Though Acelia had thought she’d loved males before: a young apprentice from her village when she’d been the tender age of forty, and another a sailor from the islands that dotted Summer’s seas.
It hadn’t been until she’d unceremoniously fallen into the water off the strange, standing board with sails that Tarquin and Varian had been trying to teach her to use that she’d understood. Tarquin had dived off his own board after her, his strong arms circling her waist as they’d drifted together beneath the surface. Acelia had taken in his beautiful features: his dark skin, white hair that flowed around him, and the eyes that seemed to see more of her than she’d ever known possible.
She wasn’t even sure which of them had closed the distance: only that his kiss had awakened something in them both that had lay dormant from the moment they’d met. Her eyes had snapped open to find him watching her in every bit as much shock, and when they’d finally resurfaced and felt the sun and salty air on them again, Acelia had understood.
Mates.
The word echoed in her mind even now as Tarquin took her hand in his, leaning her in and placing a kiss against her white braids. She took in the hands that held each other: the shell, pearl, and sapphire ring that glimmered on her finger and folded her body against his, taking in his scent and the sound of his heartbeat. He held her close, his steady breathing as soothing and familiar to her as the waves below.
It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been in the village or here with him now: he was her gift, and she was home.
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tezzbot · 6 months
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congrats on finishing your essay! :))
Love your Sonic Underground au, btw! I need some lore drops on my boy, Manic, tho. It doesn't even have to be a long explanation. Something goofy like, how many times has he been arrested?
Also! Do the triplets eventually form a band? [side-eye]
Oh my goodness, hello!! I love your art so much it's all so cool!!!! Thank you lol!
Some stuff about Manic in the au lets see...
He was kidnapped as a baby after the triplets had been sent halfway across the continent for their own safety, whoops lol, he's quite charismatic, must always have been since he managed to endear himself to Ferral pretty much immediately lol, he grew up pretty much similarly to the canon of underground, getting by stealing where he has to bartering and stuff, he's part of his own found family within the city and they're all very close, a tight-knit little community of thiefs sfgdhj, though every so often one or two of them decide to spread out (though they stay in touch), which is actually the reason for Manic's being on the train alongside the others, he has family he misses! And he has some things to get to them! (little does he know he'll be meeting more family than he anticipated lol) Though he's never actually been out of the city he grew up in himself (despite what he may claim lol), uhh he is very technically minded he loves to tinker and making little thingamajigs and doohickeys that look like they wouldn't have any practical use but he usually finds a way lol, nothing, like, robotic like Tails does, he's more a manual guy fdsgfgdf, aaand just a random headcanon he's fairly dyslexic n has some trouble reading, he usually has someone help him. There's also gender happening to him :thumbsup:
As for how many times he's been arrested lol uhhhh I think that early on he was pulled up a few times, probably spent some time in juvie, but he hasn't actually been caught in quite a while, I don't imagine Manic gets caught all that often lol you know those videos of kids running from cops and the police just making absolute clowns of themselves trying to catch them? That's Manic JHGJFG
So wrt the band, I'm sort of playing around with ideas right now? The main idea that I'm running with is that, the medallions only react to them when the triplets are getting along, when there is harmony between them (eehh? geddit? lol) that's the only time that they are able to be activated. Which, given the rocky start that they all have with one another obviously takes time, with Sonic being reluctant to share pretty important info with them and generally keeping his distance from them, Sonia's frustration with him and her being Very mad at Manic for scamming her, not much harmony going on for a fair bit of the journey. Eventually the three of them do get along and discover the powers of the medallions and they do perform a few times throughout. Eventually Sonic does spill that they're family and after the reactions they come up with the idea to use their music to get their mothers attention, Sonic is hesitant etcetc. I DUNNO! I'm still futzing with it lol I'll decide on stuff eventually fdghfg
Oh and I do want Sonia and Manic to have their own powers like a lesser version of Sonic's speed but, again, still deciding LOL
Anyway! Sorry this got so long lol, I've thought a lot about this AU! Thank you for the qs!!
OH ALSO Manic uses "bro" and "brother" on Sonic just as a casual thing but the first few times Sonic is like .Does He Know... GJFHG OKAY I'M DONE
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For the headcanons game, perhaps an AU where when Eobard goes to kidnap Eddie in s1, Barry gets to that bridge just a teeny bit quicker and saves Eddie (by Eobard kidnapping him instead)
YES. WHUMP. This is absolutely not something I really really hoped would happen when first watching the episode at the ripe age of 9. Nope. I was a completely normal child.
Ah. Remember when Eobard took a blood sample from Farooq, saying he’d love to know how he was able to steal the Flash’s speed. And that plotline went nowhere? Whelp, that would not be the case in this universe. Because of this, Eo wouldn’t need to keep Barry in Star labs which —alongside simply not having a speedster to search— will make rescue a lot more difficult. He also knows what he's doing, knows how to hack and deactivate all the trackers and tech in Barry's suit to ensure he won't be found.
This situation forces Eddie or Joe to tell Iris Barry’s the Flash (hell, Eddie may just yell “Barry!” When he’s taken and that gives it away) and she's going to be pissed. Like canon, they don't/can't report Barry as missing, and with him out of commission; Thawne doesn’t need to send Grodd, which means they can just focus on finding him. It would be even more tense for everyone because Wells/Thawne taking Barry actually makes sense which is somehow scarier than the alternative of the kidnapping being random. They’re just hoping they can find Barry before a man who hates him enough to kill his mom when he was 11— kills him too.
Meanwhile, Barry is not doing great because Thawne isn’t particularly worried about meeting his food calorie needs; just making sure he doesn’t die of starvation. Plus, Thawne isn’t keen on giving him information about, well, anything. “Why the hell am I here?" "What’s happening with my friends?" "What are you working on over there, I can’t turn my head enough to see it—" etc. These questions, of course came after empty threats, a lot of shouting, and probably the threat of a gag if he wasn’t quieter. The cherry on top, Thawne was acting weird towards him, lingering a little too close for a little too long. Rescue really couldn't come sooner.
Eobard figured out a way to replicate Farooq's powers to not just deprive Barry of his speed-- but transfer it to himself so he can run home. Luckily for him, Barry's compliance isn't needed, unluckily for him; it will take a few days to a week for Barry to be completely drained. Luckily for Barry, that gives his friends time to find him, unluckily for him... the process is extremely exhausting and painful.
Cisco doesn't even realize what was happening, just that one second, his hand was on the mannequin where Barry's suit would normally sit, and the next second-- the world had gone blue and Barry was there in front of him; tied to a chair with his eyes squinted shut and watering. He wouldn't normally trust whatever that was, but with no other leads and days flying past far too quickly; he decides to tell the team what he saw.
Two possible timelines: 1. Cisco is able to hone his powers enough to get Barry's location and they arrive just in time... or 2. just too late.
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