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#I tried to keep it in character but give him some extra depth
love-bitesx · 1 year
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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader
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summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!
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“is it home-time already, darlin’?”
there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.
“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.
“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.
“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.
it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;
“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”
his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.
laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.
he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.
it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.
you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~
“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.
“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.
“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”
“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.
“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.
“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.
you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.
his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.
deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.
“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.
“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.
a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.
“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.
“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.
“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.
“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.
hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.
it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.
when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.
after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.
“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.
stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.
shit.
you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?
grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.
“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.
“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.
wait, above?
craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.
“spider-man?”
and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.
“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”
“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”
“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.
“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.
“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.
“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.
“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”
“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”
ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.
“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”
his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.
he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.
“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”
“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”
“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.
his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.
“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.
“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.
“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.
you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.
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“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.
“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.
“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”
the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.
“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”
“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.
he always did hate consistency, anyway.
“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.
“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.
“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.
“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.
“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.
turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.
it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.
he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.
but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.
he was fucked. well and truly.
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“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.
“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”
your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.
stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.
“what’s up?” you questioned.
“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.
you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.
“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”
it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.
“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.
“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.
untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.
“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”
and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?
shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.
insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.
“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.
gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.
“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.
“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.
“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”
he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.
“are you o—“
“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.
it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.
without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.
your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.
“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.
embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.
he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.
his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.
pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.
“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”
you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.
“like, a lot.”
he kissed you again. and again.
a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!
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pls pls pls pls give us headcanons about the scara x katheryne crack ship or i will literally die bc i am a sucker for robot love too and i need this in my life :D
Okay so... I may have actually gotten way too invested in this and started writing a fic about it. 😅 But just in case that never comes to fruition, here's my more in-depth, canon-compliant(ish) thoughts:
The Katheryne in Sumeru was possessed by Nahida enough times that some of Irminsul's influence rubbed off on her and made her sentient. This only began to manifest after she was skewered by the Eremites, repaired, and then sent back to her normal Guild duties.
Scara visits the Adventurers' Guild for one reason or another and makes one of his usual snarky remarks, then is surprised when Katheryne briefly breaks character to snark back at him. Intrigued and slightly annoyed by the fact that a supposedly non-sentient "inferior" puppet has roasted him, he resolves to keep observing Katheryne and find out what's going on.
Meanwhile, Katheryne is new to this whole sentience thing and isn't quite sure what to do about it. She tries extra hard to go about her job as usual but finds that some weirdo in a big hat is always hanging around & disturbing her for some reason. She resolves to find out what his deal is and why he gives her pesky feelings in her chest sometimes.
Cue shenanigans, bonding over puppet troubles, themes of figuring out together how to make their own purpose in this world, etc. etc.
My headcanon for Katheryne's personality is that she has spent her entire existence working in customer service and has Seen Some Shit. As a result, she is usually unflappable, but can be taken aback by new or strong feelings. She's also very attached to / protective of the Adventurers' Guild and its members.
By contrast, Scara has the emotional fortitude of a wet paper bag, but he is technically more experienced with having feelings (and he has Nahida as his personal therapist). So he's able to help Katheryne adjust to being her own person & get her to explore the world a little more.
Also Scara's tsundere shit totally fails to land with Katheryne. He'll be like "Tch. As if I could ever do anything as embarrassing as spend time with you," and she'll just say "Okay, goodbye. :)"
I feel like Nahida would know exactly what's going on and would be bemused by it at first, then start actively trying to get them together. At some point she would definitely tell the Traveler to sub in for Katheryne at the Adventurers' Guild one day so Katheryne and Scara can hang out. (Of course the Traveler would be comedically overwhelmed and this arrangement would never happen again.)
If Katheryne gets a Vision in this version of events it would probably be Dendro. Her voice lines in combat would be variations on her standard canon dialogue, ex. "Compliments of the Adventurers' Guild!" or "Here is your reward!" while beating the living daylights out of some Hilichurl.
That's my take on it, anyway! There may or may not eventually be more from me on this because people seem to like it way more than I expected, ha ha 😂
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jounosparticles · 5 months
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the colors reminded me it's port mafia time
about all of the port mafia has black in their palletes, it is very clear to see BUT there are three exceptions
kouyou has black in her character design BUT also pinks and reds. she probably doesn't count but still! you notice the pinks/reds before you notice the black. I think this is to connect her to kyouka but I could be absolutely wrong. small little extra detail: she has spider lillies at the bottom of her kimono(?) which repersent danger and death and abandonment! (they can also represent rebirth but death is the most common meaning for them)
kaji also barely has any black in his pallet. but he's kaji. absolute unhinged creature
and finally tachihara! he has black pants but also green jacket and white shirt. obviously in the beginning he wasn't actually a port mafia member but a hunting dog (that changes but also we don't see him after he gets turned so does he get new mafia swag? the world may never know.) the green of his jacket could repersent his connection to the hunting dogs (green jacket -> green uniforms) but that might be a HUGE stretch so eerrhhree take it with salt.
mori also applies to this halfway since he has two outfits (port mafia boss + his physician outfit) BUT with his physician outfit he wears a purple button down with his white (lab? doctor?) coat over it. purple is associated with corruption and royalty and I think that applies to his position as the mafia boss BUT! BUT the lab coat covers it so ITS LIKE HIM CONCEALING IT!!!! HIDING!!!! GRR DHER I hate mori but I love putting him under a microscope sometimes dude.
anyway!!!!!!! colors!!!!!!!! fun.
ohhhh I LOVE THIS!! lots of little details i didn’t think too far into.
thinking into kouyou, the black in her design is under the pink/red mostly. as if she’s keeping the more extravagant (maybe the wrong word) or passionate part of her external while the darkness she tries to not let out. she’s talked before about how you can’t go back if you thrive in the darkness, so i assume her design reflects that a lot. she expresses beauty despite being in the darkness. pink is also associated with love and care, and she seemed to take on a role in protecting kyouka and likely loved her or deeply cared about her. (i am so here for kyouka and kouyou found family older sibling or mother-like role).
kajii has a couple black stripes on his outfit. not much, but enough to symbolize that he’s with the mafia. what’s interesting though is that they cover his eyes as well. you’d think they’d put more emphasis on his eyes to show that he is corrupted as well but they stay shielded a lot. harukawa said at one point that his eyes are pitch black even if you cannot see them. this is probably a combination of him being a scientist and keeping his face shielded and maybe adding some uncertainty for his character. i also assume the white clothes is to go with the scientist-y look. we don’t know much about him yet but i hope we do soon.
and for tachihara hmmm. i wonder if asagiri had him planned out from the start? or if he decided to add that in to give tachi some depth since he didn’t have much beforehand? either way i love that he has such a cool design, it’s one of my favourite mafia looks actually! i like your idea of the jacket connection a lot, that makes sense! i noted that tachihara also wears black wristbands, tying into the colour theme of the mafia as well. i’m going into heavy speculation here, but maybe the white on his shirt could somehow represent his purity (combined with the green jacket to show his status as an officer)? and the black of his pants could represent the effect the mafia has had on him? as in he is both good and evil. or maybe they just thought the colour contrasts looks cool and i’m looking to deep into things idc tho ily tachihara
i don’t have anything to add to mori’s designs i just really like what you said with that. really cool ideas !!
i always love seeing your ideas on stuff!!
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The Ssum Review 3: It's Raining Men
So! It's been well over a year since my last in-depth review of The Ssum: Forbidden Lab. I didn't write one for the last couple of major changes, so those will be folded into this. (Yes I'm doing this for batteries again).
Since my review from October of last year, Cheritz has added two new routes to the game, as well as updating the UI and adding some extra features. The word document I originally typed this in clocked in at 6 pages only mildly edited, so without further ado, let's get into it.
Note : This review will include spoilers for all three routes, including June's. I won't discuss any major twists from later on in any of the routes, but I will talk about the identity of June's Mystic Messenger connection, if you have any concern about keeping that a surprise.
Boys –
I will sum up my thoughts, feelings, and opinions on each boy through two categories – my opinion on each boy as a character, and my opinion on that boy's route- the way their story is written and told.
Teo
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The boy -
Early on in the game's lifespan, before anyone else was released to compare him to, a sizable portion of the fanbase had complaints about Teo, calling him “boring” or “generic”. My opinion is that, being the only option available, it was difficult for his unique qualities to stand out. Now that we have Harry and June to compare him to, I believe his personality is permitted to shine.
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And shine it does. Far from being boring, he's a cheerful, friendly boy with a quick sense of humor and a deep love of movie's and film-making. He's a chronic workaholic. He's scared of bugs, ghosts, and horror monsters. He's a terminal optimist who tries to give people the benefit of the doubt. He loves meat and hates carrots. He's a lovesick idiot who wears his heart on his sleeve. I finished his route back in April, and I think about him every day.
The route -
So far, Teo is the only route for which I have fully completed all available content for. 200 entire days of chats and phone calls with this boy, with more days expected to be added at an unknown point in the future. Teo's route has been compared to a train ride- relatively smooth and steady, with some bumps along the way as he lived his life. This applies most clearly to the romantic arc- there are a few arguments and conflicts that pop up between teo and the player during the course of the story. But as to the relationship itself, there's a generally steady uphill pace as the you get to know each other, growing closer and more comfortable with each other. The story remains rather slice-of-life in nature, but Teo's so active that he's always doing something interesting.
Teo's route was, of course, the first route written/released, and therefore misses hallmarks shown in later routes – we get very few opportunities to hear directly from other people in Teo's life, mainly relying on Teo as sole narrator (with the exception of the rare occasions his phone is lost or stolen). This can lead to its own brand of strengths and weaknesses- while it lacks a variety of voices and the punch of different characters interacting, there does come the added layer of Teo as a potentially unreliable narrator. And that does make the rare occasions when someone else has Teo's phone a strange but delightful treat.
Harry
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The boy -
Harry's an interesting character. Being the only other boy for what Cheritz has dubbed the “First Season” of the Ssum's storyline, Harry is clearly meant to stand as a narrative foil to Teo, especially early on. Teo is cheerful and friendly, Harry is closed-off and a bit of a misanthrope. Teo's a workaholic, Harry is lazy and very difficult to motivate. Teo's a lovesick idiot, Harry declares early on his route that there is No Such Thing as love. Their roles as narrative foils stands most clearly in the most superficial of their differences: Teo loves meat and absolutely hates carrots, while Harry would be a full vegetarian if he could, and Carrots are his absolute favorite food.
In short, Harry's not the easiest character to get along with. He does show the most growth and change over the route, however, and while the core of his character stays the same, his growth is delightful to watch.
The route -
As mentioned above, Harry is a lazy misanthrope who doesn't believe in love. Not the easiest character to write a romantic arc for! How did Cheritz deal with this, you may ask? By giving him a lot of outside stimuli, with a variety of characters intruding on his quiet life against his will.
The first major difference from Teo's route was the app's AI Piu-Piu as a character- in Harry's Route, Piu-Piu is present from the beginning, giving the player someone to talk to when Harry's not around, and working hard trying to foster a relationship between the player and Harry. In addition, the speech-to-text feature (not implemented until very late in Teo's route) is used liberally from day 2 of Harry's route, allowing us to listen to conversations between Harry and the people around him. It's a creative way to tell more varied stories in the limited format of a private messenger chatroom.
Harry's character arc is pretty closely tied to the romantic arc of this route – Harry starts out as a very closed-off person, but as he interacts more with the player and gets to know them, he starts to open himself up to trying new things and being more adventurous. He's still blunt and frustrating to deal with, but it's been a genuine delight to see him change and grow, however gradually. In short, THIS is the slow burn romance.
June
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The Boy-
June's by far the youngest of the boy's currently accessible in the game, 20 years old compared to Teo's 27 and Harry's 28. He's also much more sheltered, suffering from an unspecified illness and therefore forced to live with his mother for his well-being. He's therefore very shy with people he doesn't know very well, and has a lot of self-worth issues tied to his status as an “unemployed moocher” (his words). That said, he positively blossoms when talking to the player, being very affectionate from day one, proving to be a rather chatty, playful young man. He enjoys painting, especially appreciating the works of Monet. He does seem to be rather desperate for affection- I get the sense that he'd bend himself into a pretzel to please the player. I worry about this kids self esteem.
The Route-
Part of the marketing surrounding June included the announced return of Mystic Messenger's writing staff to the team, along with the promise of a more dramatic story. They promised and delivered- June's life is full of drama, both due to his illness and due to the complicated conflicts of the people around him. The poor boy has very little agency in his life due to his illness and position, and there are many moments where the player is forced to stand by and watch as events unfold. Some of these moments effectively act as a gut punch, meant to make the player feel helpless when June's health takes a turn for the worse.
Other's, however, may simply be a poorly executed writing fumble. A separate arc from The Drama™ is the development of June's friendship with his doctor, Henri. Long segments of chats are devoted to listening to the two of them talk and get to know each other, which can prove frustrating when players can't interject and are forced to sit by and watch. The development of their friendship is rather awkwardly implemented, in my opinion- I get the sense that they wanted a bit of an enemies to friends(lovers?) arc, but didn't give themselves the time to properly develop the relationship in the time they'd allotted themselves, and ended up pacing it out poorly.
Now, you may be wondering, what about the romantic arc? You mentioned the romantic arc for the other two boys, what about here? That's the problem, there is none. June loves you right off the bat. Literally from the moment he meets you. And granted, that's part of his story and low self-esteem- June's been using the Ssum app for nearly two years, waiting for a match, and he's so overjoyed to finally match with anyone that he's willing to throw himself into it whole heartedly. But the downside of this is, at least from my perspective, that it feel's hollow. Unearned.
The Mystic Messenger Connection
Another large part of June's marketing was his connection to a character from Mystic Messenger, Cheritz's most popular game. This was left vague in initial advertising, but the connection is revealed very early on in the route. That said, I'm gonna mark the spoilers very visibly for those who want to avoid it. (… honestly who is reading this without already being a fan of the game? This is my the ssum fanblog, y'all are already in here with me. Still, common courtesy.)
SPOILER STARTS HERE
So those who know me well know that I am not particularly fond of Jumin Han from Mystic Messenger. I don't dislike him, per se- I think he's an entertaining and fun character to interact with, as his lack of experience with ordinary people and deadpan sense of humor adds an interesting dynamic to the cast. That said, I do not like his route. It skeeves me out. It's not for me. Big yikes, dude.
That said, it ultimately makes the most sense for June's connection to be through Jumin's birth mother- why wouldn't a divorced woman remarry and have more children, if she were so inclined? Especially since Jumin's father apparently remarried more than once.
The question may be: does this connection to Mystic Messenger overshadow June's story? In one sense, I don't think it does. While June and Jumin's mother Carolyn plays a very prominent role in the story, and while Jumin does show up later, I feel like the story can be easily understood without having played the other game. You don't need to know who any of these crossover characters are to understand what's going on. Anything you need to know is explained. There are a few easter eggs choices sprinkled in here or there for fans of both to enjoy a good callback, but there's no content lockout. (Some moments in game do come across very heavily as Promotional Advertising for Mystic Messenger to The Ssum players. That is annoying.)
In another sense, yes, absolutely. Whatever melodrama doesn't come from June's poor health comes from drama connected to his family- Carolyn arguing, corporate espionage related to Jumin's company, it's just... so much drama. So much unnecessary drama that has nothing to do with June except how the backsplash affects him.
I honestly don't know how to feel about it. I ultimately like the idea of watching estranged half-siblings trying to form a relationship, but I haven't finished the full 30 days yet so I don't know where that will go. I do relish the potential it holds.
SPOILER ENDS HERE
Art
Teo's Art – You may recall from last time that I discussed the shift in art style partway through Teo's route – the “Updated” art from the first month or so, and the “pre-update” style that started from about day 31. I speculated two things- one, that Cheritz would continue to go back and update artwork to this newer style, and that whether or not we'd return to the “updated” or or if the “pre-update” style would remain. Joy of joys, Cheritz did update a little more of Teo's artwork, bringing the next ten days in line with the artwork of the first 30.
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Alas, the updated art style never made any appearances later in the route, as I had hoped. That said, as the route went on, the implementation of this art style seemed to improve with practice- there are some very cute pictures of Teo from later on in the route using this style. (Yes I am biased, and yes, there's still a lot of janky art in there)
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Harry's Art – I honestly don't have a lot to say about Harry's art. Unlike Teo's it's consistent, and it's pretty good. Harry's generally not expressive, but when he is, it shines. That said, my one critique is, while Teo's route also made liberal use of stock photo's, the stock photos in Harry's route frequently included other people. This came off as a little jarring, especially if any of those photos with Actual Human Beings (run through a filter) also had Harry drawn in alongside them. It's not bad, it's just jarring. Because again, I get it, 200 days worth of pictures is a lot. This is an indie dev with a small art team. This is what stock photos are for.
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June's Art – One of the hallmarks of June as the start of 'Season 2 – Love from Today' is the shift in art style. With June's route comes much more stylized artwork, more in line with Cheritz's previous work such as Mystic Messenger. The artwork of June and other characters shown within his route are well-drawn, consistent, and expressive. I do slightly mourn the loss of the more realistic style from Teo and Harry's routes, I understand why they made this shift. I am curious about what June would have looked like in the older art style, but I like what we have.
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The other and much more controversial shift that came with June's art was the use of AI-generated backgrounds. Many fans raised concerns with Cheritz about this, citing the ethical considerations. Cheritz has released two statements regarding this: the first, apologizing for the surprising shift and explaining that the dataset they'd been using had been from commercially available sources. To my mind, this doesn't seem particularly different from how they had used Stock Photos as backgrounds in Teo and Harry's route. Still, it's hard not to object just on a basic knee-jerk reaction. It's just not a good look.
A more recent second statement has left me slightly confused with the wording – they've stated that some background artwork in Harry's upcoming content update will include AI generated backgrounds, but clarified that no AI has ever been used for Character artwork, and that they had no intent to do so in the future. My first time reading that statement left me with the impression that they'd meant that they intended to step back from AI-generated backgrounds as well for any future development, but on a closer rereading, I realize that they seem to mean that they never have and never will use AI for the Character Artwork. What this means for the future use of AI in the game in general remains unclear. I do hope they'll switch back to putting filters over stock photos- it was really fun spotting very obviously well known locations (my personal favorite is "The Artist Village" from Teo's route literally being a photo of the Small World attraction at Tokyo Disneyland)
Monetization -
I Can See Your Voice
I mentioned the speech to text feature offhand earlier, but I'll go slightly more in depth here: A feature I had not encountered by the time of my last review, “I Can See Your Voice” in season one and “Voice Recognition” in season two, has seen a lot of use across Harry and Junes routes especially. This may be seen as simply a fun quirk meant to help bring other characters and different kind of interactions and scenes into the story, if it weren't for the paywalled content.
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Like the paywalled images, some dialogue from the voice to text content “glitches out”, requiring the player to use the in-game currency (batterys) to view the missing dialogue. Depending on how willing you are to use your batteries on this, it can range from one line you can easily figure out from context, to blocks of missing text in a row. It's frustrating to deal with, but at least for me, it's not that difficult for me to go “fine I guess I don't get to know what you said” and move on with my day. I'm not wasting my batteries on that when I could use them to make phone calls.
Subscription Services and Piu-Piu Plus
I forget when they added this, but there was a fun new, affordable subscription plan added to the Ssum! Called Piu-Piu plus, it has a much more pared down version of the other subscriptions key features- it still unlocks paywalled content such as photos and missing voice-to-text dialogue, and gives a daily supply of temporary batteries with which to make phone calls and choose paywalled options. It also removed the 5 second ads that pop up half the time, and tossed in the “faster typing” as a bonus. This plan is priced at 8USD a month, a much more affordable price, especially considering how much just buying the batteries you would use would cost otherwise.
I ended up using Piu-Piu Plus for one month back in February, and honestly... I kind of loved it. I was able to go back to days gone and unlock the paywalled photos and voice-to-text. Teo and Harry typed faster. Hell, if Harry or Teo were making me wait too long for the next part of the conversation, I could use the temp batteries to skip the wait. After that month ended, it was a little hard to come back to normal, and while I've readjusted since then, I keep thinking “maybe it wouldn't hurt to subscribe for one more month.”
Honestly, especially if you mean to play while juggling multiple routes in the same day, Piu-Piu plus is not a bad option, especially if you're hurting for batteries and want to access as much content as possible. I just wish it had the private account access.
Misc
There isn't really any specific focus here, I just had additional thoughts that didn't fit elsewhere.
I love love LOVE the music in Harry's route. There's a lot more variety in the melodies, and there's an overall Jazz Piano sound to it that just hits me right. I don't have a lot to say about it. It's good music, Brent.
One of the other UI updates that came with the addition of June was Profile Pictures for the expanded cast in each route. Any significant character that Harry or June speaks to with the voice-to-text feature now has a profile picture displayed, along with a specially colored textbox. It's a fun little detail, and I'm delighted to finally have a face to put to names.
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The addition of video calls in June's route is a fun addition. The implementation is rather simple (it's not dissimilar to a standard visual novel), but they do some fun things with the new format, such as June lifting his hand to cover the camera if he's trying to hide something from the player. The new Harry content coming in December is supposed to include Video Calls as well, and I'm excited to see what video calls with him are like.
And also, wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles, The Profanity Filter in the Infinite Universe has finally been updated to tell us What Word Is Causing a Problem! No more do you have to sit there wondering why on earth you can't post your post. The app will certainly tell you! And then you can get mad that it won't let you write “wtf”.
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Conclusion
I wrapped up my last review discussing the nature of otome games, giving players choice, having an ensemble. We now have three boys to choose from, with more on the way. There's plenty of variety to choose from: Cheerful Teo, Blunt Harry, Sweetie June. While which boy you prefer is ultimately up to taste, there's plenty of entertainment to be had regardless of whose route you play. Ultimately, ask yourself these questions.
Do you enjoy the more melodramatic style of otome games like Mystic Messenger? Or do you like your boys gooey sweet? June's the one for you.
Do you like tall men with deep voices? Do you want a man so weird you want to examine him under a microscope? Do you like a proper opposites attract slow-burn? Harry's the one for you.
Do you want a steady, mostly relaxed slice-of-life story? Do you like yourself a cheerful boy who likes to joke around? Do you enjoy Pining, mutual or otherwise? Teo's the boy for you.
Does this sound exhausting to deal with? You can always put the game down and come back later when you feel more up to it. The dating sim boys will keep. They'll wait. You have that choice.
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fancyfearful · 11 months
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Forgive me fandom, for I have sinned...
I’ve been antagonized by my own creative mind for a few days now, and have finally clawed my way out from out from the depths of Writer’s Block Hell™ to curse present y��all with a quick-fic based off of this post  from 
@itsmattibad !  
Obligatory Disclaimers: Copywritten characters belong to their respective creators, the artwork/’prompt’ belongs to @itsmattibad, and this work of fiction is NOT to be consumed by minors/anyone under the age of 18 years old! This fic isn’t explicit, but it IS suggestive, so minors be gone.
 I also have limited knowledge on MHA in general (mostly cause I watched only 1 season of it, rip) but I couldn’t break free of the chokehold this man had on me, so my bad if this is an OOC take! I also haven’t written ‘traditional fanfiction’ in like...months...years? It’s been a while >.>; Anyways, enjoy!
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9:45AM. 
That was the time you were supposed to clock in for work. 9:45am, and not one minute later. It was just enough time for you to grab a small snack, a quick cup of coffee, and rest your legs for a bit.
And given how empty the coffee shop looked at this moment, it seemed like luck was on your side. You'd be in and out of the building with a few minutes to spare.
Unfortunately, the neutral expression on your face switched to a frown when you noticed who was working today. You didn't know his name, and it didn't help that you never caught him wearing a nametag either, but of all the people to be behind the register looking at their phone, it was your least favorite barista.
You recognized the combination of bright blue eyes, shiny piercings, and messy, unkept, white hair right away and it took everything you had not to let out an irritated sigh as you approached the register. He tried hitting on you a few weeks ago, and after you had turned him down, he went out of his way to make sure that your order was messed up in one way, or another, every time that he happened to be working.
And even though the other baristas fixed your orders without any problems, having to repeatedly go back to them in the first place was still annoying to begin with.
He was obnoxious, overbearing, and unnecessarily petty over being rejected by some random woman he didn't even know personally. Hell, he couldn't even pronounce your name properly the first time he tried to call it out for your order. But this was the closest coffee shop to your workplace, so as long as you showed up here early, you could afford to take an extra few minutes to correct your order on the off chance he was working.
Several seconds pass while you wait for him to finally notice you standing there, but you really don’t have the patience for something like this. So, after clearing your throat loudly to get his attention, he finally looks up from his damn phone.
He chuckles a little, and given the smug expression on his face, he recognizes you instantly.
“Well, look who it is! How’s it go-”
“I’ll have a bran muffin, and my usual drink order. Extra foam on top.” You say, quickly cutting him off. You really didn’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary, and had pulled out a few bills from your wallet to put down onto the counter before he could even give you your total.
“Is the extra change supposed to be a tip? That’s real generous of you. And here I thought you didn’t like me...” the bastard barista comments, sounding pleasantly surprised.
It takes everything you have to stop yourself from either cursing him out or straight up leave the shop entirely.
“Look, I really, really don’t have the time for this, okay? I have somewhere important to be, so if you want to keep the change, keep it.” You reply, trying your best to sound calm. Maybe he couldn’t tell that you were annoyed with his bullshit already…or maybe he did know and simply didn’t care. 
All things considered, the second option seemed more likely.
“You know, I think I could get used to this. Having you walk in here, and send a few extra coins my way is definitely a good way to start a shift.” the white-haired weirdo replies, all while punching your order into the register before swiping your money up from off of the counter.
“You’ll probably spend the money on something stupid anyway.” You grumble, hoping he doesn’t hear your snide comment.
“Does a date with you count as something stupid?”
“I’m still not interested, and if you ask me again, then I’m going to-”
“Alright, alright, there’s no need to get anyone’s boss involved, so I’ll drop it. These piercings don’t pay for themselves, so I actually have to keep this job. Here, I’ll even toss in an extra muffin.” the white-haired barista says before handing over your items.
You quickly take the bagged muffins and your drink from him without another word, but you notice something different about him in that instant. The jerk is actually wearing his nametag this time, although you could’ve sworn that he didn’t have it on when you first walked in here. You hadn’t given it much thought before, but somehow the name ‘Dabi’ seemed fitting.
After turning around, you make your way towards the nearest table and place your items down before looking down at your drink with a frustrated sigh. 
Of course he forgot the extra foam. In fact, your drink didn’t have any foam on it at all.
You roll your eyes, carrying your drink back over to the register to find the petty barista, Dabi, casually messing around with his phone again instead of doing anything productive.
“Excuse me, there’s no foam in this, and I asked for extra foam earlier.”
“Oh? My apologies, miss. Here, let me fix that for you.” Dabi replies, his tone clearly mocking you.
And that tone makes you instantly regret voicing your complaint to begin with.
But before you know it, your drink is plucked out from your hands, and carried away to be ‘fixed’. You aren’t entirely sure what Dabi has in store for your order this time, but it can’t be anything good.
“Here you go, all fixed up. I think I’ve really outdone myself this time.” He says proudly, still holding your drink as you glance over to see what he’s talking about.
The crude foam art is easy to recognize, and the moment you frown, Dabi chuckles.
It’s a drawing of a dick. And a well designed, lengthy one at that. 
You’re equal parts annoyed and impressed by his handiwork, but before you get the chance to complain, he pulls the cup far away from you again.
“Wait, I almost forgot the extra foam...”
Without breaking eye contact, he opens his mouth and lets his pierced tongue hover over your drink. A trickle of saliva slides down towards the tip of it, and you can only watch in shock as Dabi uses a strand of his own spit to add a finishing touch to his own masterpiece; a thin, but noticeable line is drawn through the foam and it makes it look like the cock in your coffee is blowing it’s load.
The sane part of your brain is telling you to look away in disgust, but truth be told, you’re so baffled by the boldness of his actions that you still can’t believe that this is actually happening. This had to be some sort of weird dream, or a really messed up prank. How the hell was this guy still employed? 
Noting your shocked expression, the white-haired barista snickers before casually giving your newly decorated drink back to you. 
“There you go, exactly what you asked for. Oh, and try not to burn yourself while taking a sip. Drinks that hot can be dangerous.” He says smugly, only to quickly turn around and make his way towards a room labeled ‘Employees Only’.
You stare at the drink in front of you, still trying to process everything that’s happened within the past 10 minutes before the sound of an opening and closing door startles you. Another customer has entered the coffee shop, looking impatient and grumpy; they probably needed something more than you did, and you didn’t want to hold up the line, or get tin their way.
Grabbing your drink, you quickly mumble an apology before making your way back to the table that you picked out earlier, and the moment you sit down, you can’t help but curiously look over the detailed foam art on your beverage again.
And by the time Dabi finally returns from the ‘Employee’s Only’ room to help the grumpy guest in line, he glances over just in time to catch you hesitantly raising the cup to your lips.
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dintheanxious · 2 years
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Din rambles about rp [Licorice Cookie] (Really long post)
Like I said in my Vampire Cookie post: Cookie Run does the thing I like where they give you a character, a basic personality and an idea of a backstory and then let you run with it. Though, when I rp Cookie Run I usually make them humans to be
yknow, less weird when they bang bc idk how that would work.
So I give them names, places of origin, (even doing a bit of extra world building myself), and families.
Licorice is more complex than Alchemist and Vampire so I'll try to be coherent for once in my life
Name and hcs below!
Name:
Latin Fawn Edwards. I honestly cannot give you a legitimate reason for his name, but I can give a reason for the name he introduces himself as: Lich
Which isn't even as in depth as my last post. It's just in reference of a necromancer specifically the Lich from Adventure Time because I think that Licorice would think it's a cool sounding name.
Basic Hcs:
I love Licorice Cookie so I got a damn list of these.
Bisexual Demiboy with he/they pronouns
Lich is about 23 years old, not a huge hc but just starting off small
He also claims to be a Scorpio because it sounds cooler, but that unravels when you find out his birthday is in early September (Virgo)
Story Hcs:
Lich wasn't intended to pursue magic since the Licorice tribe wasn't as magically educated as the Coffee one, so not only did he not receive the recognition he deserved most people didn't know how to give him that recognition or just didn't care. His parents were in the latter group.
It's hard to get him to even ADMIT that he was from such an "embarrassing" place and will claim he's from Magic City.
What actually happened was: one day to show off how powerful he was, Lich brought a dead cotton candy lamb back to life.
At first, it was finally enough to get him some recognition, with a little more work the tribe would be able to bring all their late livestock back to life and benefit from it!
That was until that lamb began to cannibalize the other sheep and had to be put down.
That was what ran Lich out of the tribe by pretty much everyone who could.
Cold and alone, Lich tried to find his way to the Coffee tribe or Milk tribe but got lost. The blizzard was getting stronger and Lich began to give up. However, Dark Enchantress saw the previous events and appeared from the snowy winds with a grin. She offered Lich a home, but more importantly... recognition. She praised Lich for his efforts and for being able to reverse the seemingly permanent.
Lich ate this up and quickly joined Dark Enchantress in her cause.
Other Hcs:
Lich is absurdly attracted to things/people that could kill him. Meaning he's most definitely attracted to Dark Choco, Red Velvet, and Black Raisin.
Though, he says it's because he finds power arousing he also wants a significant other who can protect him when he's weak. This he doesn't even admit to himself.
Wears light clothes under his robes, imagine walking around in black robes in the middle of summer. Especially robes that thick.
Lich sews, there is nothing else to mention. Just that he sews.
His necklace of skulls isn't real. This would be obvious to most, but not to Poison Mushroom (who I hc as someone who likes to collect random ass things) when they bring Lich the skull of a still decomposing animal they found. They said that maybe he could make a ring or something out of it since he makes jewelry out of bones and Lich just awkwardly disposed of it once they left.
Lich fucking LOVES horror movies but is prone to nightmares if he finds one that actually scares him good. One of the first movies that could make him that bad was when he was a kid and watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre on DVD.
At his current age, the only movies that freak him out are the kinda movies you'd find on Tier 3 and lower on the Disturbing Movie Iceberg. Don't ask him about it, he's still traumatized and it still makes him nauseous.
He also loves true crime, but can't stand torture cases. Even a necromancer like him wouldn't keep a living being alive just to cause it pain... the dead don't count, they can't really feel anymore.
His kind of magic needs to get living energy from somewhere to give to the dead. While most necromancers would sacrifice animals, Lich can't make himself do that so he uses his own living energy... that and if he finds an animal in pain and feels like he should put it out of its misery. The energy is then sucked into his scythe and can be used to reanimate the dead.
Meaning the more Lich does this, the more it slowly kills him.
The dead don't need much, just a drop of life (hell you can even recycle their own living energy as long as the body is still fresh). So it's not like it will kill him in one shot, however, he doesn't expect to see his 30th birthday considering that he's coughing up blood.
Bugs can count, but it's just a pain in the ass and if the dead need just a drop bugs provide like less than even a tenth of that energy
the amount of life energy a being has varies depending on many factors, just know that a healthy adult human can supply enough energy for THOUSANDS of reanimated corpses.
I couldn't find anywhere else to put this but bondage and knifeplay are *chefs kiss* to him
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sonic generations character mods download working P61H%
💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Mods & Resources by the Sonic Generations (Gens) Modding Community. A little archive of a bunch of mods I've downloaded for sonic generations, many from dead or unreliable links. Archive to be expanded over. The guide is split into three parts, part one for graphics and other mod, part two for level mod and part three for character and music mods. I marked the most. 8/8 Better FxPipeline · 7/8 Direct3D 9 Ex (Optimized Renderer) · 6/8 Sonic Unleashed HUD · 5/8 SU Project: Redux · 4/8 Classic Sonic Improvement Mod. 9 Sonic Generations came out in to delight fans with its fast levels, varied gameplay, and tons of nostalgia-inducing material. It lets you play with the speed the franchise is known for, both from a side-scrolling perspective as Classic Sonic, and a more dynamic third-person one as modern Sonic. Check Out This Mod. Before we get into the meat of things, you may want to get the incredibly convenient HedgeMod Manager by TheSuperSonic This nifty tool will significantly simplify the mod installing process for Sonic Generations, and also works for Sonic Lost World and Sonic Forces. Whenever you need to edit the configuration files for any of your mods, you can do it easily through the HMM as well. The first actual mod here is also one of my personal favorites. It tries to bring back some of the charm present in the Sonic Adventure series. Developed by TheKazeblade , this mod aims to replicate the physics of the Adventure era in Sonic Generations, allowing better low-speed maneuverability and giving you more control at higher speeds as well. I mean, the remixes are alright, I guess — but why are my favorite songs half their original length? This simple mod by NateSquared simply restores all shortened songs to their right length, and you can choose whether or not to keep the remixes. It may be a relatively small detail. Not everyone likes the recent live-action Sonic movie. Even after the adjustments made for release, Sonic still looks pretty unique in this movie. Levels start off looking colorless like the hub world, and regain their color as Sonic approaches. Also take a peek at this video to see it in action. And modder UltimateDarkman thinks enough is enough. The Real Tails mod replaces modern Sonic with modern Tails, who not only looks great but retains his abilities, including flying with his helicopter tails by pressing the Boost button in the air. While some of those are better-off fading into obscurity Sonic Boom Sonic , others are the stuff nostalgic dreams are made of. This simple mod by creator Franku slightly alters both Sonic iterations from Generations to look more like Dreamcast-era Sonic, as seen on Sonic Adventure. Far from altering his original concept, this mod actually makes Classic Sonic look even more like his official renders and advertisement material, making him even more adorable. Not only does it fix Depth of Field and Bloom Glare to work correctly on all resolutions, but particles are now affected by post-processing effects too. Easily the most famous fan-project around, Sonic Generations: Unleashed endeavors to port these levels from the Xbox version of the game to Sonic Generations. So far, the game includes eight massive levels, ranging from Windmill Isle to Jungle Joyride, all of which you can access from a new hub world. Nelson Chitty is a Venezuelan expat living in Argentina. His ideal weekend is spent between leisurely playing games of Civilization VI and looking for the next seinen anime to marathon. If you buy something we may get a small commission at no extra cost to you. Learn more. Image source Sonic Generations came out in to delight fans with its fast levels, varied gameplay, and tons of nostalgia-inducing material. Their solution? Run so fast it sets time back in motion. Stay Connected.
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izzy-b-hands · 6 years
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Murder House, Part One
This is my @mtl-trick-or-treat for @enydart! I hope you like it; I had a lot of fun writing it! I also started something for your Treat prompt, so if you like this and want that one as well, just let me know and I will finish it and post it asap!
This was for the Trick prompt, asking for ‘something gross with Murderface.’ I went to something that most people find gross (though maybe not the Dethklok boys, since they see so much of it lol)-murder. But I had to give Murderface some fun and happiness too since he gets shit on so damn often, so hopefully this is gross enough!
Fic under the cut because this got long; RIP and my apologies to mobile users if the cut isn’t working on the app. I was actually going to try and fit the whole thing in one post, but found out there is a post length limit (who knew!) so I have split this into Part One and Two! I will post Part Two by the end of tomorrow at the latest (it just needs a few final touches!)
The ads for the haunted house played constantly from October 15th on . Radio, TV, even billboards plastered all over. He did his best to ignore them, even though he wanted to take a flamethrower to any billboard or screen that had the ad on it for even a second. 
The rest of the band, however, was harder to ignore. By the fifth night of the ads playing during their favorite evening TV shows, he was ready to snap listening to them comment. 
“Look at thats; you ams the most famous of us now,” Skwisgaar snickered as the ad played. 
Lights flashed and flickered on the big screen as it showed the haunted house actors depicting the murder-suicide that had sent him to his grandparents. There was even a chubby baby actor sat in the middle of the gore-’Baby Murderface looks on in horror!’ exclaimed the ad’s dramatic narrator. 
“Ams thats legal?” Toki asked, pointing at the screen. “To use your lifes like thats and makes a haunted house so...sads?” 
“Amn’ts even haunted really,” Skwisgaar replied. “Just sads. A sads house. What ams scary about thats?”
Pickles shrugged. “Well, someone sold their rights to their life story years ago. That’s scary, if you ask me. Cuz then they can do shit like this, and you’re shit outta luck to stop them. Ain’t that right, Murderface?” 
He wanted to just rage. To tell them to shut the fuck up, or he’d set fire to the living room just like he wanted to set fire to the haunted house and anyone who was involved with it. But he’d been upset constantly, since the ads had started. It felt strange, but he was almost tired of being upset and yelling about it. He just wanted to do something to get rid of it. 
“Whatever, juscht schut up about it. They were schupposed to make a cool movie out of my life,” Murderface sighed. 
Nathan chuckled. “You uh, you really thought they were gonna do that? Buying the rights to your life story; that was gonna make a really cool movie?” 
“Yeah, why the fuck not? People make movies about all kindsch of dumb schit; you can make a movie about anything basically!” Murderface spat back.
“Okay, Murderface, look--thing is, they gotta have a cool fun story, to make a cool movie. A movie about your life...that’d be pretty sad, dude,” Pickles said. “I mean, who the fuck would wanna watch that?” 
“Well, once he joins us, I mean...that’d be a cool movie,” Nathan said. 
“Yeah, but then that’s just a Dethklok movie,” Pickles replied. “And that ain’t what he wants; he wants a Murderface-only movie. But nobody’s gonna go see that, or if they did they’d like...I don’t know, cry themselves to death or something.” 
Murderface bit his tongue. They were in a rhythm now, going back and forth to talk shit about him. It was easier to try to stay quiet and ride it out. 
“Yeah, probably. Can you see it? ‘Saddest movie ever, millions cry themselves to death and stab out their own eyes’,” Nathan said. “Huh. Actually, that would be brutal as fuck. Murderface, you should call them--tell them to nix this haunted house bullshit and make the movie instead.” 
There were tears at the corner of his eyes, even though he didn’t want them there. He tried to look only at the TV, hoping no one would notice them. 
“Oh geez, look yous mades him cry now,” Skwisgaar tutted. “You eggs him on like this, when he ams already a big crysbaby, makes it worse. Ams you just a big baby Murderface? No, so knocks it off.” 
“He likes attention, that’s all he wants,” Pickles started. 
“Yeah, I says thats, like a big baby,” Skwisgaar interrupted. “Needings all this attentions.” 
 “Oh fuck you! You’ve got moviesch and booksch written about you!” Murderface protested. If anyone could talk about being an attention-needy baby, it was Skwisgaar. 
“Yeah, but I has to have them all takens down. Dids not authorize anys of thems, so they amnt’s accurate. I don’ts want them, but people makes them anyway.” Skwisgaar replied testily. “And does yous mean Toki’s book? Because that ams nots something I wanted either.” 
“Oh fuck yous, Skwisgaar,” Toki scoffed. “Yous ams just as bad. What theys calls an ‘attention whores’.” 
“Oh, and what ams yous, Mr. Gives-me-a-solo-rights-now-or-I-cries?” Skwisgaar shouted. 
It devolved from there, and he tuned it out. They’d forgotten to keep making fun of him, at least. But there was no watching the show with that much yelling over it; the cue to head in for the night. 
His boots thudded against the stone floors, and then against the wall of his room as he kicked them off and tossed them into a corner. 
“Schtupid executive asscholes. Schtupid Halloween. My life ischn’t scary, or schad, or anything--it’sch mine. How’d they like it if schomeone did that to them?” he grabbed an ancient dagger from its spot hanging on the wall and slashed in front of him. “Or better yet--Michael or Freddy or schomething could come and cut them down. Just schome creepy freak coming after them.”
He let the dagger clatter to the floor. “They’d never schee it coming...” 
And there it was. The perfect revenge, to make sure they’d never take anyone else’s life and turn it into some stupid attraction. To show them he wouldn’t take this lying down. 
Or that someone wouldn’t, at least. 
After all, Charles did have a few limits legally. He got them out of a lot of shit, but some of it was going to simply come down to being careful. There wasn’t too much work to do anyway--the website for the haunted house listed two main executives from the studio he’d sold his rights to, a team lead for the attraction itself, and if he could take out a few actors in the house too, well that was just icing on the cake at that point. 
It wasn’t a lot of murders for Charles to have to make disappear, but it was enough work if it was Murderface, famous bassist committing them. 
But a faceless, nameless boogeyman could get the job done. 
The outfit was easy to draw up, his ideas flowing like water. A little bit Michael with the black protective jumpsuit, and a touch of Freddy with the knives, all hidden in specially designed pockets so it wouldn’t look super bulky. The mask was fitting of any horror movie monster--blank and emotionless, unknowable.
Really, the mask was his masterpiece. Made of a flexible material so as to still be comfortable, with specialty coatings on the front to make it difficult for any victim to stab or shoot through it. It wouldn’t stop everything, but it would help keep him from getting outright killed. Not that he planned on giving them much of chance for that. Last, it would be painted a dark shade of blue, almost black, the color he figured would make it easiest to blend into any shadows. Only holes for the eyes and a few hidden ones near the nose--anything more felt too risky, too much of a chance to potentially be recognized. 
The bonus of being this rich was that no one would ask questions when he ordered weird shit. Hell, he commissioned random costumes for Planet Piss all the time. Charles would make sure the orders got processed as quickly as possible, and then his work could begin.
It was almost therapeutic, all of the planning and designing. It made falling asleep easier and quicker than it had been in weeks, and for the first time in awhile, he slept with a smile on his face.
                                          --------------------------
The three days that followed were all tense excitement. Excitement for waiting for the outfit to get there, excitement to get started. With the main businessmen taken out of the equation, it would be easy to get Charles to start the legal side of things--to file lawsuits for everything from defamation to claiming he never sold his rights at all. And then the thing would be shuttered for good. 
The suit arrived first. Thick material, meant for an industrial setting, slow to stain or tear. And it fit like a glove. 
“I’ll corner thosche asscholes in their penthousches, and paint the wallsch with their gutsch!” he crowed as he finished buttoning it. It was a bit weird not wearing his shorts, but some sacrifice would be required to pull this all off. 
Now he could only hope the guys wouldn’t question the deliveries he was getting. They almost always did--for anyone. Pure morbid curiosity, or hoping it was something fun to be shared. 
So of course, they asked. 
“Uh, you quitting on us or something?” Pickles asked on the morning of the fourth day after the Plan had started, as they all dug into their breakfasts. “Going into construction?” 
“Of coursche not,” Murderface replied. “How’d you find out what it was anyway?” 
Pickles shrugged. “I smoke up with one of the gals in the mail room. She lets me look at all the mail that comes through here. Kinda fun.” 
“What the fuck, how long has she let you do that?” Nathan asked, his fork still halfway to his mouth as he stared perturbed at Pickles. 
Pickles shrugged again. “Couple years now. Why, you ordering nasty sex toys or something you don’t want me to see?” 
Nathan flushed pink, and glared down into his pancakes. “Don’t be an asshole. Just don’t want you going through all my shit.” 
“Yeah, you’re ordering nasty shit. I’m gonna watch out for your stuff more now,” Pickles grinned. 
“Juscht fire her,” Murderface said, grateful the topic was drifting away from his mail. “Then he can’t get in there anymore.” 
“Nah, he won’t,” Pickles replied. “You guys all know her--the one with those green eyes.” 
“Damn it,” Nathan huffed. “She’s nice. Always leaves a little note on my mail when she brings it to my room with a smiley face. I can’t fire her.” 
“Told ya,” Pickles smirked. “So, ya going to your shitty haunted house or something? Making a spooky costume, Scaryface?” 
“Yeah, might use it for Halloween” Murderface snorted. “But, itsch really for Planet Pissch. Got a...concept album idea going.” 
“Ams it piss?” Toki asked. 
Skwisgaar rolled his eyes as he sipped his coffee. “Whats does you think, Toki. What’s else woulds it be?” 
“Wes should does a groups costume this year,” Toki said. “Then wes can all goes to sees the sads Murderface house!” 
“I woulds be ups for thats,” Skwisgaar replied. “Gots to be somethings cool though, Toki.” 
“No, no, what the fuck, no,” Pickles protested. “Thought you Swedes were antisocial, why the hell do you wanna do a group costume?” 
Skwisgaar glared. “Because I ams Swedish, I can’ts have friends? Wes can’ts have funs with a groups costume? Ams I meant to hates fun?” 
“I just figured you wouldn’t think it was cool,” Pickles replied. “Don’t gotta be a douche bag about it.” 
“Oh fines then, I goes as the personifications of nihilism,” Skwisgaar scoffed. “Ams that an acceptable costume for mes, Pickle?” 
Murderface ate in silence as the argument grew over the group costume idea. He’d get used to even more arguments if it meant they’d forget to ask him about what he was doing. 
Still, Pickles potentially seeing his mail made him worry. When the mask showed up later that day, he made sure the mail team knew to bring it straight to his room. 
But it was Charles who knocked on his door and had the package in hand. 
“Look it over, if you want changes made we’ll send it back right away,” he said, watching as Murderface tried to open the package without letting him see too much of it. 
“Serial killer...that’s a fun costume,” Charles continued as Murderface turned away to examine the mask.
“How would you know?” Murderface asked as he felt Charles sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t see you getting dressed up for Halloween much.” 
Charles only shrugged. “So...will it work?” 
Murderface turned and stared. Did he somehow know? How the fuck could he know? 
“For your costume?” Charles asked, an eyebrow raised. 
“Oh, yeah. Perfect,” Murderface replied, relieved. And it was, exactly the way he wanted it. 
“Good,” Charles said, a small smile on his face. “Have fun putting it together. I’m sure you’ll look great.” 
After Charles had left, he pulled everything on and stood in front of the mirror near his closet. The whole picture--suit, mask, boots, a pair of black leather gloves--looked good. 
Except...
His hair ruined it. Everybody knew his hair, the fucking curly triangle. He had to hide it.
A thick winter beanie didn’t help, and the mask fit funny then. Any other hats would likely be the same result. 
“You gotta go,” he told the reflection of his curls. “We’re ugly asch schit anyway, being bald ain’t gonna make a difference.” 
He called for a klokateer from the hairdressing department, and changed back into his regular clothes while he waited for them. 
The klokateer had to have run, she was so out of breath. “Sir, you needed someone immediately. How may I assist you?” 
He pointed to his hair. “Get rid of it.” 
Her eyes were only barely visible with her hood on, but he could see them go wide. “Uhm...maybe we could just try a different style? Going straight to bald is a big change, sir.” 
“I. Want. It. Gone,” he replied. She’d run to Charles in a minute, he was sure of it. 
“Uh, we’ll need the clippers, not these,” she said, holding up a pair of shears. “Just let me go get those.” 
He sat on his bed and waited for the phone to ring. She’d have run to Charles, begging for help as to what to do without being seen as being disobedient. A moment later, his Dethphone rang loudly. 
“Murderface, I’ve got a very scared and confused young woman in here saying you want to chop off all your hair. Is this true?” Charles asked. 
“Yeah,” Murderface replied. “Why’sch that a big deal?” 
“Well, it is a very sudden image change. We’ll have to do all new publicity photos, promotions. And it is a bit random--why do you want to do this?” Charles asked. 
“Want a change, that’sch all,” Murderface sighed. “Can’t a guy want to change schit up?” 
Charles sighed. “Of course. I’ll send another hairdresser to you. This one’s a bit too shaky to do the job now.” 
Murderface tapped the ‘end call’ button, and flopped back against his pillows. The guys would hate having to take new pictures, but they’d get over it. Besides, maybe they’d have to make a sacrifice or two to help his revenge as well. 
It was a male klokateer this time, silent as he sat down a chair and propped a broom and dust pan near the door. He was silent all the way through the cut as well, but that was just fine. 
When the klokateer had cleaned the floor of his curls and left, Murderface put the outfit back on. 
It made a world of difference. Now, he looked like a proper faceless killer. 
Now, all he had to do was start killing. 
                                          -----------------------
The next morning, he was glowing. There was no other way to put it. He was excited beyond belief to get started. Granted, he still needed to do a bit of research to figure out where each victim would be. But there were multiple social media accounts for each person, so it would be easy enough. 
The biggest worry right now was the reaction to his hair, or the lack of it. The guys did not disappoint as he joined them at the breakfast table. 
“What in the fuck dids yous do?” Skwisgaar asked, dropping his fork. “And why?” 
“I wanted to,” Murderface replied. “Felt like something different. Not bad, right?” 
“Ugggghhh,” Nathan whined. “We’re gonna have to do new promos now. I hate promo photos.” 
“Yeah, but they moved that green-eyed klokateer to the makeup team,” Pickles said. “Charles found out she was letting me in the mail room and uh...look, it was either move her or lose her. But you could talk to her more now, since she’ll be at the promos shoot.” 
Nathan smiled a very small smile. “Would be nice to say hi...” 
“Yeah, cuz you think she’s pretty. Even with the hood,” Pickles teased. 
“She is,” Nathan said. “Don’t make it weird when she’s around us, okay? We don’t wanna creep her out.” 
“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin it for ya,” Pickles replied as he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You’ll get your chance with pretty mail girl.” 
“Not ifs Murderface gets it firsts,” Toki said. “Ams almost normal lookings now.” 
They all stared at Toki, then at Murderface. 
“Huh...you do look decent. I mean, still weird to see, but I don’t know, it works somehow,” Pickles said, breaking the brief silence. 
Nathan nodded. “Still not getting her number though.” 
“I won’t even try,” Murderface replied, rolling his eyes. He could worry about getting groupies with his new look after all his work was done. Normally, he’d have been all over the idea right away, but this was different. 
“Nots going to beats my numbers,” Skwisgaar muttered. “But yous looks okay. Almost goods, even.” 
“What can I schay, I know what looksch good,” Murderface smiled. “I was right about my schorts being schexy as hell, now with thisch--I’m gonna be irresistible.” 
He shoveled his food in quick as the conversation moved on to some bullshit about Toki wanting more groupies at the end of each concert. He had more important concerns. He’d get the suit ready with all of the knives he’d set aside for the project, and figure out where to go for his first target. If he could, he’d head out for it tonight. 
As soon as he was done with his plate, he dashed back to his room and started putting them away. It was fun, with so many hidden pockets to fill. He’d never get caught without a weapon, and once he was done it would go back to its spot--no murder weapons to be left behind. 
“Perfect,” he breathed as he finished the suit and held it up in front of himself. 
“Is it?” 
Charles’ voice made him jump. He hadn’t even heard him come in. 
“How the hell...what the...you should learn how to knock!” Murderface yelled, carefully folding the suit in close to his chest, as if he could somehow prevent Charles from seeing it any further.
“Sorry,” Charles replied, a smirk on his face. 
Murderface felt sweat pooling on his face. Charles wasn’t supposed to know about this part of things. Just to know when the assholes were dead, so he could start the legal paperwork. “Uh...now you know my costume is really perfect! I’m gonna look great!” 
“You will,” Charles agreed. “Also, 4242.” 
“What does that mean?” Murderface asked. 
“The first executive you’re going to kill. The code to his penthouse door is 4242,” Charles replied matter-of-factly. 
Murderface knew his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. How in the hell had he figured it all out?
“All the details for your orders lead to someone far away from here. Some ass in Ohio who keeps trying to scalp Dethklok tickets. If the worst happens, and they start tracking anyone down to nail for these killings, it’ll be that jerk. Not you,” Charles continued. 
“How did you--” Murderface started. 
“Does it really matter?” Charles asked. “Point is, you’re doing a good job of keeping your tracks covered--I’m just going to make sure they stay covered.” 
“How do I know you aren’t gonna fuck me over though?” Murderface asked. If there would be anyone to turn him in, he would guess Charles would be the first to do it. 
Charles looked genuinely hurt at that. “Look, I get it. I’m not fun, I don’t seem like the type to let you get away with this. Just--just know I’ve got my reasons for wanting you to be successful in this endeavor. I won’t fuck you over.” 
“What, you’ve got bodies buried out in a desert schomewhere too?” Murderface asked, snorting. 
Charles didn’t laugh. Didn’t chuckle. Didn’t move an inch. That was scary as fuck. 
“Uh, never mind. You don’t gotta anschwer that,” Murderface said quickly. 
Charles sighed. ‘Look, he leaves for the Bahamas soon. So we need to get you out to him by this time tomorrow. And to the rest fairly quickly too, if we want this thing shut down by Halloween.” 
“You...you don’t like the haunted housche either?” Murderface asked. He’d figured Charles honestly didn’t give that much of a fuck about it. 
“Of course I don’t,” Charles scoffed. “Makes you look bad, and by association, the band. You don’t deserve it, and neither do the guys. But I haven’t found a way to touch them yet legally, so this...well, it’ll be perfect.” 
Murderface was struck. Granted, he was just as concerned about the band as he was for him, but...someone gave a shit. Honestly, truly, cared. 
“I’ll let you know when the plane is ready. Get packed,” Charles instructed as he turned and headed for the door. 
“You know where they all are?” Murderface asked. “You’re schure?” 
“I wouldn’t send you if I wasn’t,” Charles replied as he left. “I’ll have an alibi for your absence, in case any of the guys notice. So just go with it, okay?” 
Murderface nodded, and rushed to pack as Charles footsteps faded down the hallway. 
In six days time, all the assholes would be dead, and everything would be good again. 
The excitement was delicious.
                                            -----------------------
The plane ride was quick, yet not quick enough. Still, before he knew it, he was in front of the penthouse building. It wasn’t too far from Mordhaus, only about fifty miles. He’d expected to have to travel longer, but was glad he didn’t have to. 
It was a busy enough place that crowds bustled around him, and he could drift past people through the doors without anyone glancing at him. The security guard was asleep, and there was no one else in the lobby. He didn’t want to jinx it, but it almost seemed like it would be easy. 
Then again, it wasn’t like there was much to stare at. He looked like any other guy coming to stay with someone in the building, in a black tee and jeans that Charles had waiting on the plane for him. The black duffel bag that held his suit and mask looked like any other travel bag. He was just a visitor, no one to look twice at. 
It was an incredibly freeing feeling. He’d never thought he would miss being anonymous, but it was nice for a short time. 
The service elevator wasn’t even hidden; he found it down a hall just off of the lobby. On the ride up to the penthouse, he changed, his hands shaking. He stowed the bag in the small room that housed the upper level entrance to the elevator, then started down the hall to the door of the penthouse.
The design of which was gross even to him. It might have been called a penthouse, but it was technically the first two top floors--in his mind, it was bigger than a penthouse then. 
But he wasn’t there to argue exactly what this guy’s home qualified as. He punched the code into the door panel, grabbed a large kitchen knife from one pocket sheath, and started into the dark home. 
A bachelor, and it showed by the state of the penthouse. There was still a pile of coke laying on the living room table, which was just showy and ridiculous to Murderface. Erotic art covered the walls, and while he owned a few of the same pieces himself, even this was a bit of overkill. You could barely see the wall behind the art there was so much of it. 
A light shone in the darkness, probably a bedroom. He moved towards it, as quiet as he could manage. 
“Jasmine?” a raspy voice called out. “I didn’t expect you tonight, baby. I’m not gonna pay you for a surprise visit; I hope you know that. But I’ll be happy to have some company.” 
This was it. Murderface gripped the knife tight, and charged into the room. 
The executive was in a open robe and boxers, and stared in shock at Murderface. 
“What in the--” he started.
Murderface stepped forward and shoved the knife into his open mouth. It was hard to yank back out, but the choking noises were incredibly satisfying to hear as he stabbed again and again--the man’s fat gut, his chest, slashing across his arms as he back up and fell to the bed, raising them to try and defend himself. Blood was splattered across his mask, and sweat dripped down his face, but he was enjoying the exertion--which would figure. The only exercise he’d enjoy would have to be illegal. 
Finally, the executive stopped moving. His intestines were falling out of him, and blood drenched the silver silk sheets and painted the walls. It was glorious. 
“One down,” he muttered to himself. “Two and how many extras to go.” 
He checked three times for a pulse before he left. The walk out was as easy as the walk in too--he changed again in the elevator, using a rag in the bag to wipe his boots clean, and walked past the same guard who was still fast asleep. 
The air tasted sweeter outside. It was cliche, but so true. He felt good--he always talked about doing shit, but so often didn’t. It felt amazing to finally do something. 
And he was excited to do more.
                                      ------------------------
He slept on the plane ride home, not bothering or caring to check the time. He’d get home when he’d get home, and deal with any questions from the guys if any of them were up. He hadn’t left too late, so they were likely to still be stumbling around watching TV or something. 
Sure enough, they were all squished together on a couch, seemingly half asleep. They bounced back to wakefulness once he walked in though. 
“You dog!” Pickles shouted. “We heard about her; Charles told us everything! Toki was right, the hair was the problem. Now you’re getting models!” 
He grinned as Pickles charged towards him and slapped him on the back. He kept a tight hold of his duffel bag as he was steered towards the couch. He didn’t want any of them getting curious and searching through it. This was a hell of an alibi that Charles had given him. 
“So?” Skwisgaar asked expectantly. 
“What?” Murderface asked. “The model?” 
“Yeah!” Nathan exclaimed. “How was she?”
“Uh, amazing, of course,” Murderface replied, hoping he sounded less awkward than he felt. “Juscht wild, you know how models are.” 
“Looks at him,” Skwisgaar chuckled, and gently patted his cheek. “Still all sweaty and disgustings. Goods for you!” 
Murderface just nodded and smiled. This was all good and fun (though it would be more fun if Charles also could supply him with an actual model to date) but he was still tired. And he needed to get his stuff into his room and clean it all up. 
“Look at that grin,” Nathan laughed. “God, are you finally gonna be fun? That’s awesome, if you are.” 
“Yeah!” Toki added. “Then wes all gets ladies for afters our shows, and everybody ams happy! Oh wowee, we gotta takes you out to celebrates!” 
“Yeah,” Murderface agreed as he stood from the couch. “Schome night later this week maybe. Or hey, what about Halloween? Big night out to celebrate!” 
They cheered. They’d never been this enthusiastic for one of his suggestions before. Was it the hair, the alibi and fake accomplishment, or the real confidence from the murder that he’d been missing all this time to get them to really like him? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t ever going back to what he was before. 
“That sounds like fun, and I hate to interrupt the planning,” Charles said, suddenly in the room. They needed to put a damn bell on him. “Can I borrow Murderface for a moment though? After all, I’m sure he needs to actually get some sleep now!” 
Their happy laughter echoed down the halls as Charles gently pulled him away from the couch and to his room.
He shut and locked the door, and gestured to two plush armchairs at one wall of the massive bedroom. “Have a seat. You deserve the rest. Scotch okay?”
Murderface nodded and took in the room. It was very...Charles. Richly yet plainly decorated. All black and red, almost something out of Dracula’s castle with the velvet everywhere, yet nothing stood out about it to declare it as Charles’. The chair was comfy, if nothing else. 
He dropped his back by him as he dropped into the chair, and gratefully took the glass of scotch from Charles. 
“So...how was it?” Charles asked. 
He took a breath. “It wasch...amazing. I can’t wait for the next one.” 
He felt his cheeks flush as Charles grinned. 
“I’m glad you had fun. I figured you would, but I wanted to check in just in case. I’m proud of you for this, you know,” Charles said. “This is quite an undertaking. But you’re doing wonderfully.” 
Murderface nodded. “Thanksch.” 
The silence sat for a moment before Charles broke it. 
“You want to know why I’m so invested.” 
He nodded. “I mean...I get it. You take care of usch, and all our bullschit. But this...you’re really exschited for this.” 
Charles tossed back the scotch in his glass and smiled. “Well. I can’t tell you everything. In fact, there’s more I can’t tell you than there is that I can. But I--I had my own reasons to do this sort of violence you’re doing now. The why doesn’t matter so much anymore, not to me at least. But that’s because the people I needed dead are in the ground, rotting, and no longer a threat to me. And that is...very freeing.” 
“You feel safe,” Murderface found himself whispering, so quietly his speech impediment didn’t have a chance to start. 
Charles nodded, but his eyes were on his empty glass. “Yes. I suppose that’s the best way to describe it.” 
“Did you enjoy it?” Murderface asked. 
Charles chuckled. “I think you know the answer to that already.” 
He nodded. “Yeah. Bet you’d be out here doing these yourschelf if you could.” 
Charles sat up a bit straighter. “I mean...it would be fun. To do it again. Even just once. But I don’t want to take away from your fun.” 
“I’ll need help at the haunted housche,” Murderface replied. “I’ve got to take out the team lead, but there’ll be a bunch of actorsch we can take down too...I don’t want to be overwhelmed by anyone fighting back. You could come with, if you think you can make it.” 
Charles looked happier than he’d ever seen him before. “If you really want me to; I’d love to. I don’t get out very often anymore.” 
“It schows,” Murderface scoffed before he could catch his tongue. He looked nervously at Charles, awaiting the lecture.
Instead, Charles threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck. It does, doesn’t it? All work and no play...Yeah. I’ll come with for the haunted house. You can have fun with the second executive on your own first though.” 
“I schuppose you’ll have all the info for me about him by tomorrow?” Murderface smiled. 
“Of course,” Charles replied as they slowly stood and went to the door. He unlocked it, handed him the duffel bag, and patted Murderface’s back gently as he walked out. “Get some good sleep--you’re going to need the energy.” 
“What? Isch this guy schome sort of Olympian-executive or schomething?” he asked. 
Charles shook his head. “But you should be well-rested before these, uh, little adventures no matter what. Better form, and then you won’t tire out halfway through things.” 
Murderface nodded. “Hey...uh, thanksch. For all of thisch. I mean, I’d probably be fine on my own too, but--” 
Charles just nodded back. “I get it. Have a good night, Murderface.” 
The door clicked shut behind him as he started down the hall towards his room. He was definitely ready to sleep some more. But the morbid curiosity was gnawing at him too--what other skeletons did Charles have in his closet, and what exactly had he done to put them there?
Maybe he’d find out after Halloween night, if he could get him to join them for celebratory drinks. He hoped he would. 
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theveryworstthing · 4 years
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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.
The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.
I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.
Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.
10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.
The Parents
From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.
Or while it was still bleeding.
If she was into that.
Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.
Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.
And he always gets his due.
He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.
Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~
Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.
Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.
This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.
Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?
Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.
Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.
What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.
Mortesha would know.
The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.
Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.
The Children
Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.
Anyway.
Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!
Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.
Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.
I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.
Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.
She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.
Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  
That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.
Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.
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twiceasfrustrating · 3 years
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I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?
thank you
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried
A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.
Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.
Lucifer
He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.
He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.
There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.
Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.
It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.
He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.
Mammon
MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.
Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.
The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.
He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.
Leviathan
He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.
They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.
It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.
Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.
Satan
There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.
One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.
MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.
He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.
Asmodeus
MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.
Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.
The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.
“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”
It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.
He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.
Beelzebub
He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.
Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.
Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.
All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.
MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.
Belphegor
Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.
He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.
Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.
He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.
All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...
Diavolo
“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.
The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.
He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.
All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.
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redorich · 3 years
Note
May I request the aftermath of Cleo learning about the magic restrictions please and thank you.
The unfortunate thing about the Dream SMP is that there is no such thing as neutral ground. Everyone's in a faction, and everyone's got beef with everyone else. The only "neutral ground" is the unsettled wilds. When Philza reports this back to Cleo, who reports it back to Xisuma, Cleo wears a put-upon look and says that her and Joe's castle will do just fine, thank you, so stop worrying about it.
The day of the meeting comes, and though Philza is hesitant to return to the castle that scared Techno half to death and activated Ranboo's main character energy, he didn't spend all that time with Cleo handing out the invitations for nothing. Cleo herself won't be present, but her partner in crime Joe will be.
Inside the castle, past the courtyard teeming with armor stand faux-life, there is a meeting room with a table. There are exits on each of the four walls, so no one feels trapped, and the table is circular so that no one feels less important than anyone else. It's all a very Socratic setup.
At the far end of the room, where the head of the table would be were it rectangular, Xisuma sits calm as can be despite the powder keg of important people with grudges he's invited into his presence. On his right is Joe, whose eyes are lit up bright white, though he's still wearing his glasses. To Xisuma's left is Grian, and to Grian's left is Doc. Continuing around the table, next sits Eret representing the Pride Palace and, to a lesser extent, the Dream SMP as a whole. After them, the next person is Philza representing the Syndicate, then Bad representing the Eggpire.
Given the antagonistic nature of the Eggpire, Bad's neighbors have been chosen very carefully; on his other side sits Ghostbur representing L'Manberg. (Philza had awkwardly told Cleo that inviting a L'Manberg representative wasn't necessary, since the place was gone, but she insisted that it was "the principle of the matter". Ghostbur seems happy enough to be invited, anyway.)
On Ghostbur's left, Sam attends on Dream's behalf. Obviously, no one is going to invite Dream, and as Dream's would-be warden, Sam was nominated to attend in his stead. Next to Sam there's an empty chair for George; Philza and Puffy both warned the Hermits that George was allergic to "lore", whatever that meant, but his place at the table was set nevertheless.
The last person to fill in the table is Tubbo, representing Snowchester. He quietly expresses to Sam that he's wary about how few Hermits there are in proportion to the number of Dream SMP citizens. Sam shrugs, and murmurs back to Tubbo that there's probably more Hermits hiding somewhere nearby. After all, isn't that what the Hermits do?
Xisuma claps his hands together once in a polite bid for everyone's attention. They settle down slowly, and once they do, he stands.
"Right, everyone-- thank you all for coming. Let's get right into it, shall we?" He smiles, though it's hard to see beneath the helmet. "With some help from Puffy and Philza, my friends and I were able to figure out why we were trapped in your server."
Sam crosses his arms. He doesn't give much of a shit about the Hermits, he tells himself, unless they have something to do with Dream-- Sam's greatest failure. (It's a lie. He looks at Doc, the only other creeper-person he's ever met-- the first creeper-person, who fought a god and won the right to live for all mob hybrids who came after him. Doc, whose eyes are fixed solely on Xisuma.)
Clearing his throat to cover up the moment of weakness, Sam speaks up. "That's great and all, but why do we care? No one was living in L'Manberg anyway; it was practically free real estate."
The callous words net Sam a glare from Tubbo and a hurt look from Ghostbur. Before either can protest, Xisuma cuts in smoothly.
"It's an issue with your server," he says, "one that Dream should have fixed. It's the reason for this meeting, actually; if there was a responsible admin in the server, I would have just told them. First, a history lesson-- Doc, if you please?"
Doc nods somberly, savoring the opportunity to ham it up a bit. "For those of you who don't know, there are three Eras. The first is the beginning of time, when Mojang created the world as we know it. Players had infinite respawns, the world was less advanced, and redstone had just been created."
"Don't you think you're going a little too far back in history?" Bad asks skeptically.
"He's getting there," Eret defends.
Doc picks up where he left off. "In the Mojang pantheon, there was a god named Notch who wanted to expand the world's horizons, to give them new biomes and mechanics and blocks they'd never seen before... but you can't make something out of nothing. He needed magic to make his big updates a reality, and he stole it from the players behind the other gods' backs."
Ghostbur gasps, horrified. "He stole magic?"
"And so the gods killed him and gave the magic back, end of story," Sam snaps, then instantly regrets it. He's too on edge.
Thankfully, Doc either doesn't mind it or doesn't notice. "Not quite," he says. "When Notch took the magic from players, they lost the ability to respawn at all, marking the beginning of Era Two-- the Hardcore Era. When the gods found out, they were angry at Notch, so they exiled him to the Void. They tried to give players back their magic, but Notch had already taken too much, and servers and updates kept needing more and more... That's how Era Three started. It's the one you live in now, with the three life system."
"So... why does this matter?" Tubbo asks. "I mean, what does this have to do with why you're stuck in our server?"
"There's a parasite on your server, eating up all the magic," Xisuma says carefully. "Your server needed extra magic to keep up, so when we went through the infinity portal it grabbed us. As a group comprised mostly of Era One players, we have the magic that the server needs to compensate for the parasite."
Most of the Dream SMP citizens look either nauseous or extremely worried at the thought of a parasite. With a furrowed brow and a chewed lip, Eret breaks the silence.
"Do you know who it is?"
They all look around the table with wary gimlet eyes, attempting to suss out the imposter among them.
"A parasite..." Sam snorts derisively. "Sounds like that damn egg."
"Language," Bad snaps, but doesn't resort to violence.
"No no, he's got a point," Grian speaks for the first time. He'd been told to stay silent, but he's not a man who will ever pass up an opportunity to meme.
Bad's face falls, and he takes on a placating tone in an attempt to persuade the Hermits to his side. "Hey, don't be like that, the Egg's never done anything wrong!"
Sam's eyebrows raise practically to the ceiling. He looks at Bad in disbelief. "Never done anything wrong?" he says. "Remember when you--"
"That was me, not the Egg," Bad cuts in with a nervous laugh.
"You tried to kill Puffy over it, then killed Foolish instead," Philza says solely because he wants the Hermits to be mad about the Egg.
"Hm," Joe hums to himself. Up until this point the man everyone knows as Herobrine has been quiet, fading into the background, but now that he's made his presence known they can't help but be wary.
He drums his fingers on the table. "Yeah, I think we need some backup. False, Iskall?"
"On it," Doc grumbles, and reaches under the table to flip a couple trapdoors.
Out of nowhere, as though they'd ender pearled in, a blonde woman and a cyborg man appear behind the Hermits' end of the table. Bad stands up suddenly, knocking his chair backward, but Doc presses another button and all four entrances to the room are shut by pistons.
The woman, False, vaults herself over the table with nothing but upper body strength and tackles Bad to the floor. While the demon is still stunned, Iskall dashes around the circumference of the table to flank him. Doc once again presses a button and the floor opens up to reveal a secret staircase, which False and Iskall drag Bad down kicking and screaming. Once they disappear into the depths of the basement, the floor closes back up and the doors reopen like nothing ever happened.
"Well," Xisuma says with a small smile, lacing his fingers together as he addresses the group.
They stare back at him in horror.
He clears his throat awkwardly. "So, with the removal of the Egg, your server will stabilize and we Hermits will be able to leave you in peace..."
"I'm sensing a but," Eret says tentatively. They take off their sunglasses with a minute sigh, reminding themself that it's because of these Hermits that their curse was removed, that they can take off their sunglasses and have gray eyes again.
Taking a deep breath, Xisuma speaks. "We think we have a way to fix the three-life system."
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exovapor · 3 years
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I'm OBSESSED with your writing. Can you try.. Maybe, Donnie being a filthy boy being an 'stalker-ish' of his long time crush? Be checks their FB for new posts, saves every picture of them he finds? He doesn't mean to be a creep, feels guilty, but just doesn't know how to ask for more than friendship?
Good afternoon Anon. Here is my short story in relation to your ask.
I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take this, so I had to do a bit of guessing on my part. I hope this something like you were wanting.
I will admit that this ask was a bit of a struggle for me, not knowing a clear direction to take it outcome made me a little unsure of my writing and guessing abilities LOL. However, I will admit to crying along with the characters in this story more than once.
Thanks again for the ask and the initial compliment. I hope to continue to earn your favor in future posts.
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· Stalker [noun]: 1a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. 2a person who hunts game stealthily.
· Donnie stared at the definition on his one of his monitor screens while his various other screens were busy flashing receipts of files downloaded, text trail streams from your phone, notices of any social media post/update/like/heart/emoji, a GPS line grid of your routes today (overlayed over the routes you’d taken previously), and data search hits of anything and everything that pertained to you.
· At this point, the boy had literally every picture you had ever posted, anywhere, of yourself. In fact, he had all the pictures that other people posted of you in them. He had even gone through the effort of designing a face recognition program that picks you out of the background of total strangers’ pictures and, yeah, he had those in a file too.
· He has special file folders that compile things that you like, things you don’t like, things that make you happy, things that make you sad. He is your own personal Pinterest and you didn’t even know it… and maybe that is the part that keeps bothering him so much.
· He sits staring at that word and definition and chewing his bottom lip. True, he knows the word and the meaning, but he needed to LOOK at it, analyze it, mull it over in his guilt ridden brain.
· He just KNEW the word Stalker couldn’t apply to him.
· After all, he isn’t harassing or persecuting you, you don’t know! So, it isn’t necessarily ‘unwanted attention’. It is just…unknown attention.
· Stealthily, hmmmm, did that part apply to him? Well, He isn’t EXACTLY being stealthy.
· If you knew about technology like him, then you would probably see his programs running on your devices and be alerted to his activities. AND, if you shared his love and view of technology, then you would probably be more understanding of his activities and not consider them stealthy…just data mining. In fact, you might applaud him.
· ‘Ok, that was taking it a bit too far’, Donnie thinks to himself and he feels a band tighten and squeeze around his infatuated heart.
· He is almost certain that you would be shocked to learn of his extra curricular activities and how they revolve around every aspect of you.
· Regardless of how he tried to spin the truth and wiggle out of the definition of stalker, Donnie still felt guilty for invading your privacy. However, he honestly couldn’t help himself…at least not anymore.
· He has fought the urge, the nagging thoughts and the burning need, to know more about you for what seemed like an eternity.
· Listen to him, he is starting to sound dramatic like Mikey! What is his turning into? He is losing his rational edge!
· To be accurate, it hasn’t been an eternity. In fact, he has known you 1 year, 36 days, 14 hours, 11 minutes, and 23 seconds to be exact. However, you started occupying space in his mind 2 minutes into meeting you and your claim over his mind has grown exponentially over time.
· You were quiet and reserved during that first meeting, so there wasn’t much to go on. It started as a simple visual interest with a thought of ‘Oh. She’s pretty’.
· However, then you started talking and that changed everything.
· You opened up more and more each time you hung out with their little group, revealing layers and layers of interests and personality. You were fascinating…and that’s when his thoughts about you really started to snowball and spiral out of control.
· You went from being a simple pretty face to being a walking embodiment of everything he seriously ever dreamed of having in a mate.
· Early on, there were three sticking points that really made Donnie’s feelings problematic. 1. He was a nearly seven foot tall walking talking turtle and you weren’t. 2. You had a boyfriend that you were deeply in love with and adored. 3. Donnie was too insecure about #1 and how you felt about inter-species dating to let you know that you had started to OWN his heart.
· Now, thanks to his surveillance, there were only two sticking points….#1 and #3.
· He still remembers the feelings of that day, 44 days ago, when the blip of information popped up on this screen alerting him to the fact that your boyfriend was starting to stray.
· Donnie had severely conflicting feelings bombard him at once and it was overwhelming.
· The initial knee jerk reaction was elation, one of the problems blocking him from you may soon be null.
· However, the feeling of elation only lasted for a second or two before the intense anger and sadness set in. Donnie was honestly shocked at the depth of his anger, he didn’t even know he had that level of malice in him. Had he been in physical proximity to your boyfriend at that moment in time, Donnie isn’t sure that he wouldn’t have hurt your guy…or worse.
· How COULD this guy do this? WHY would he? He HAD YOU! What the heck was this guy thinking? Not only did he have you, but you thought the world of him. When you spoke about him you would smile so genuinely, your eyes would shine and gaze off into a bright imagined future. Donnie was always so jealous to watch it happen, he wondered what it would be like to be THAT GUY. And here the idiot was throwing it all away and meeting up with another girl!
· WHAT THE…(yes, this called for a curse) HELL…IS WRONG WITH HUMAN MEN?
· As the anger set root in his heart, the sadness engulfed Donnie like an all-consuming wave. He realized he was going to have to share this information with you, somehow, and that he was going to have to watch as it destroyed you.
· At first, Donnie had a plan to try and save you both from that fate. True, it would hurt him more to save your relationship, but he would rather be the one facing the pain and not you.
· He TRIED to circumvent the situation. He sent anonymous messages to your boyfriend stating that he knew about the infidelity and that he would tell you if needed. However, it didn’t seem like your boyfriend cared because he sent messages back stating Donnie could, basically, go fuck himself.
· Life had cruel sense of irony, thought Donnie, that is exactly what I do since this moron has the woman that I love.
· So, after trying for nearly two weeks to stop what was happening behind your back, Donnie had no choice but to let you in on the secret.
· Donnie couldn’t come right out and tell you that he caught your boyfriend cheating by hijacking your data streams and the data streams of those around you. So, Donnie intercepted some texts between your boyfriend and his mistress and he then sent you a text, under the guise of your boyfriend, telling you to meet him at a specified restaurant for a date.
· It had been a gut wrenching night for Donnie. He remembered watching it all play out on camera feeds from around the restaurant and street outside. He watched you dressed up in your pretty dress get out of your cab in front of the restaurant. You had such a lovely smile on your face, you must have thought you were in for a romantic evening.
· He watched as you walked inside and how the hostess got flustered and confused by a 2nd girl showing up for your boyfriend’s seated-for-two table.
· Donnie stopped breathing as your eyes found the new couple holding hands and giving each other sweet kisses across the table. Hands and lips that were supposed to be yours were touching some stranger.
· Donnie watched your smile and eyes die…the light of your inner sun go out…
· …and it killed him.
· He’s not sure who was crying the hardest, you standing there in that restaurant witnessing the scene or him back at the lair watching your world crush around you on his monitor.
· It had taken a while for you both to recover from that night.
· His brothers noticed his melancholy mood for a couple of weeks but Donnie wouldn’t tell them what was bothering him. And you stayed in your bed, refusing to face the world, for nearly as long.
· Eventually, the group began to notice your silence and absence, so April stopped by your apartment to check on you. She was the one to pull you out of bed, get you to shower and eat. She visited everyday and made sure you had someone to vent to and a shoulder to cry on.
· Donnie was glad that April could be there for you when he couldn’t. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a male, to be your confidant at that time. Especially since he felt so much guilt over having to be the one to expose you to that pain.
· No, he didn’t CAUSE the pain, but he did have to make you face it and he didn’t like not being able to protect you from it. You were such a rare, precious creature and watching you in pain felt like he was suffocating slowly.
· There were some points during those first few weeks that he questioned if he did the right thing, but logic told him it would have eventually come to pass with or without his involvement. It was better to rip the bandage of quickly and let you start to heal than it was to let you linger and drag out the inevitable.
· Donnie did secretly check on you every single night during patrol. And, of course, his surveillance feeds were always running. He watched from a distance as his beautiful phoenix burn down to ashes and, eventually, started to rise again.
· Now, it’s been over 3 months and you’ve begun to be more like your old self. Donnie can tell there is a silent sadness there, but you are able to laugh and smile with the group during your get togethers. And each time you two are left alone, his mind nags at him about those last two sticking points.
· Would you be at all interested in him? And HOW does he go about telling you that you have become the center of his world?
· Still staring at the monitor and the Stalker definition, Donnie sighs and rubs the bridge of his snout to release of the pressure now pushing against the inside of his head. The memories of what has happened, the emotions of what was and what is, it was all starting to be too much.
· “Bro, what’s all this?”, Mikey says standing behind Donnie’s chair, talking around a mouth full of pizza.
· “NOTHING!”, says Donnie, voice breaking from the stress of being caught. A startled Donnie quickly taps some keys on his keyboard and the screens revert back to the standard lair camera feeds.
· Mikey may look or even come off as naïve at times, but he’s no fool, he can sense that his older brother is trying to hide something. “Dude, seriously, what was that? I’ve been standing back here reading the screens. I saw Y/N’s name and that looked like her phone number on that other file…, you know the file that looks like texts messages. And why is there a plotted map of the area around her apartment, her work, and to the lair? What’s up?”, Mikey said giving a disapproving look at being thought a pushover.
· “Just standard surveillance, Mikey, nothing to worry about.”, Donnie says trying to placate Mikey’s curiosity. Donnie hates lying, especially to Mikey, but he’s feeling so guilty about being such a…(inward sigh)…stalking creep that admitting the truth is hard to do.
· Mikey stands there staring at Donnie and, as he does, Donnie begins to fidget with his computer chair armrests.
· Mikey stuffs the remnants of the pizza slice into his mouth and does his best Leo impersonation by crosses his arms and staring down at Donnie as sternly as his jolly face can achieve, “Dude, I’m not going to ask you again. You’ve been weird for months. We’ve let it go for the most part but now you are hiding things from me…from ME, dude! You and I, we’re like peanut butter and jelly, we’re ice cream and chocolate fudge, we young dudes have got to stick together. Trust me, bro, I’ve got you!”.
· Donnie stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet Mikey’s eyes any longer. He gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly started to speak, “Sorry Mike, I…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately. I’m doing things I never thought I would do, I’m feeling so guilty about it, but I don’t know if I can stop doing it either. I feel…lost.”.
· Mike relaxed his leader stance and leaned against one of Donnie’s lab tables, “Bro, I can tell you’ve been carrying some heavy stuff lately. You need to let it out.”
· Donnie felt the heat rise up through his body like he was suddenly being consumed by a fire and he ripped his glasses off his face and drew them down on the desk in frustration, “Mikey, I’m in love with Y/N. I have been for a while. I have been…”, Donnie hangs his head in shame, “…tracking all her digital foot prints and watching her. In fact, I’m the reason she found out that asshole boyfriend of her's cheated.”
· Mikey’s mouth drops open at Donnie’s demeanor and use of the word ‘asshole’, “Whoa, dude, why didn’t you say something earlier?”.
· Donnie can feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, this was so embarrassing, so frustrating, so…..so many things at a once. He didn’t have a response for Mikey, all he could do was shake his head.
· Still with his head hung down and staring at the floor, Donnie starts to hear Mikey chuckle. Donnie looks up to see Mikey’s eyes on him and for some reason they are full of merriment at his painful dilemma. Donnie stares at his, normally, very considerate brother in astonishment, this isn’t like Mikey at all!
· “Mikey, I’m more than serious here, now is not the time to make fun of me. What is so funny?”, Donnie asks exasperatedly.
· Mikey shakes his bald head and claps his brother on the shoulder with his green hand, “Bro, she thinks you’re cute.”.
· “W-What?!”, Donnie stammers out.
· Mikey, still chuckling, says, “Yeah, dude, that’s why I asked WHY you didn’t say something about liking her sooner, she’s always thought you were cute. She and I talk about it all the time.”.
· Donnie just stares at his jolly brother in silence. His mind is too blown to form a sentence.
· Mikey turns to leave stating, “And by the way, dude, stop watching her like that…that’s just creepy.”.
@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell
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blooming-violets · 2 years
Text
smitten extras why not
I’m sick and in bed and thinking a lot story plots and lore and a million headcanons for a million different things. I decided I want to ramble about Smitten because why not. I’m overly tired, it’s hard to breathe, and I want to analyze some characters bc that’s one of my favorite things so fuck you imma do it. And I’m putting it under a read more because it’s long and I’m respectful.  
Since I’m currently writing the final chapter of Smitten. There are a few headcanons/extra details I have that won’t be able to make it into the final story. I thought I would share them with you anyway because who else am I going to gush about them with. There is no rhyme or reason to this at all. im just a lady out here on the internet havin fun 
The first is Peter’s childhood and going into more depth with that:
Up until he was 8, Peter was a perfectly normal child. His violent tendencies started to present themselves after the death of his parents. I tried to vaguely hint at that at the beginning of Chapter 4 with how he treated the leech. That scene obviously turns out to be a nightmare that present Peter is having but I intended him to be dreaming of an actual memory that then morphs into the nightmare. There were little hints in that memory that show the way Peter’s mind is already working after his parents death. He’s already very obsessed with promises and not wanting to break them. 
My headcanon for that is: 
The night his parents died, Peter didn’t want them to leave. He was crying and holding onto his mother. His usual babysitter couldn’t make it so they had to hire the stuffy old lady who smells funny from across the street to watch him. He was clutching on this mother’s leg and begging her not to go. She bends down to peel him off, gives him a hug, and promises him that they’ll be back before he goes to bed. “I promise to be home in time to tuck you in and give you a goodnight kiss. I promise. I love you, Peter. I’ll see you soon.” Those are the last words she ever says to him. His parents never make it back home. In his childish, grieving mind, his mother broke her promise to him. It makes him obsessed with promises and not wanting to break them. He continuously promises Mia things throughout the series and has been pretty decent at keeping them (sort of). 
However, he’s still shown that he’s more than willing to bend the phrasing of them. “Aunt May says I can’t swim in this lake because there are leeches.” Instead of taking that as him not being allowed in the water at all for fear of getting a leech on him. He takes that as “sticking my arm into the water and getting a leech to stick to it isn’t considered swimming so therefore that is not breaking any promises”. I also wanted to show that he’s still capable of guilt and knowing right from wrong when he looks over his shoulder before sticking his hand in the water. He’s checking to make sure Aunt May isn’t around. He’s smart enough to know that he’s bending the promise he made and is afraid of getting caught in the act because he feels guilty for doing something she told him not to. I really wanted to try and show that Peter isn’t an unfeeling psychopath. I’d classify him more as a sociopath. 
Here’s googles definition between the two:
“While psychopaths are classified as people with little or no conscience, sociopaths do have a limited, albeit weak, ability to feel empathy and remorse. A psychopath has no conscience and is born that way. A sociopath has a conscience, though weak, and is a result from an interpretation in personality development by abuse or trauma in childhood.” 
Peter is already showing levels of high aggression some time after his parents' deaths but before Ben passes. I tried to slip that in by showing him completely obliterating the leech. He doesn’t just toss it off of him and squish it. He fucking goes to town on it by repeatedly smashing it with a rock until there is nothing left. He’s already overly aggressive and is set off by very little things such as feeling a tiny bit of pain from the leech he allowed to bite him. 
I also wanted to show that he’s already developing a fascination with blood at a young age. I briefly mentioned at one point that the funeral director told him all about how he prepared his parents for death and the embalming process. My headcanon for that is that the funeral guy told a grieving, sad young boy a little too much detail about how a body is prepped for a casket. It got too deep into his lil brain so the next time he saw his parents bodies, he was no longer seeing them as people, he was seeing them through all the procedures they went through. He’s not seeing a human body of someone he loved, he’s seeing a medical specimen. 
Peter and Uncle Ben: 
I wrote in a few details that while Uncle Ben was only briefly in his life, he made a huge impact on Peter. I wanted Ben to be the one to teach him how to be handy. They built a treehouse together. I imagine Peter would follow him around while he did house work and Ben would teach him about all the things he was doing. Peter would study the names of every tool in his tool box and what they looked like, so when Ben asked for one, he could run over and easily find what he needed. 
With the Ben flashback, I wanted to show three big things. I wanted to obviously show the trauma of losing Ben, I wanted to show young Peter showing signs of anxiety and fear, and I wanted to cement in why Aunt May became his later obsession. 
When the power goes out, Peter is scared. He still believes in monsters and being in the dark means the monsters can get him. He uses Ben as his safety person during that scene. The purpose for that was to try and show his fear and that he has emotions. He’s capable of fear and love. I didn’t want to write Peter as someone who is entirely emotionless. I wanted him to lack a lot of basic human traits but still have some hidden under the surface. It helps gray the black and white lines of his character. It can tease the reader into wondering if what he’s saying/feeling is true and real or an act he’s currently putting on because he does both throughout the story. And Peter feeling fear is important because, besides anger, I think fear is what he feels the most strongly. He masks his fear with other things but it’s always fear. He’s locking Mia’s door out of fear. If he keeps it unlocked, she will leave him. He fears her leaving him because that means he can no longer have her. So much of what he’s doing is based around his underlying fear. 
Ben’s death needed to be extremely traumatic. It is what causes Peter to fully break. He was already on the verge of breaking after his parents death but, had Ben not died, I think he would have made it out okay under his aunt and uncle’s love and guidance. Unfortunately, that was not the case. I had this death planned since I created the initial idea for Smitten as being the turning point in his young life. Aunt May and Uncle Ben needed to live on a property far away from anyone else. I imagined a little farm house in the middle of nowhere. I needed poor little Peter to be completely isolated. I needed Aunt May to be gone for a few days and I needed the power to go out so Peter has no access to phones (this is before cell phones were big). Having a child be forced to stay with the dead body of a beloved father figure, someone he’s come to look up to and love and see as a beacon of safety, and not have any other adult be able to come rescue him is, sadly, exactly what needed to happen to break this little boy’s mind. He needed to be scared by the loss of power and the storm, get his sense of safety back with the help of Ben, then have that safety ripped straight out from under him. That’s the trauma he needed to push him over the edge to become what he is today. 
Now, what was also very important about that event, is Aunt May. The first thing Peter tries to do when Ben is found is try to call her. When he can’t get ahold of her or anyone else, he goes and snuggles up to Ben and essentially just waits the two days for her to come home to save him. That helps solidify her as his savior. It also makes sure that she is now the only adult left in his life who he loves and cares about. Peter is terrified to lose her either through death or her rejecting him in some way. So Peter becomes obsessed with her. He tries to be the perfect nephew by never letting her see anything bad. It creates his need for secrets and his ability to lie so effortlessly because he’s been doing it since he was 9. Aunt May basically becomes his god. There is no one higher than her in his life and he is fully obsessed with her. Her violent death snaps whatever little tiny bit of sanity he might of had left (although I think there wasn’t much left at that point anyway). There’s that scene I wrote when he’s lying in bed with Mia and she had just used May’s shampoo so she smells like her. And Peter has this weird mix of wanting her to hold him like a mother and wanting to fuck her. I wanted to blur those lines as well to give him serious mommy issues. Some Norman Bates vibes to set the tone. Peter’s adoration and obsession with May also becomes his trigger into serial killing. 
Side note about that: The room Mia is staying in was created for May. The way Peter describes it is as being something really sweet he was trying to do to keep his elderly, beloved Aunt from having to live alone. But he was 100% going to keep her locked up in a basement room with no windows exactly like he was with Mia. He constantly talkings about that room as keeping Mia “safe” and being a “safe place” for her away from all the bad things in the world. Once again, that room was meant for Aunt May. It was never a room filled with love. It was always going to be a locked cage disguised as a bedroom. It fits in perfectly with his fear of losing things he believes are his and wanting to keep them “safe”. 
The next big thing I want to talk about is Peter’s high school girlfriend. This is a huge headcanon I have that I wanted to be a really big part of his story but, unfortunately, I just couldn’t fit it in. And as I write the final chapter, it just isn’t going to be able to fit. So I thought I would tell it here instead because idk who else to share it with. 
The high school girlfriend is supposed to be an au version of Gwen. Aunt May is friends with Gwen’s mother. One day Gwen and her mom come to visit their house. Gwen is helping May make dinner. They’re talking and laughing and realizing they have a lot of things in common. May turns to Peter and says “Isn’t she absolutely wonderful, Peter? She reminds me so much of myself as a young woman.” Annnndd that clicks into Peter’s mind as seeing Gwen as a potential future May. Thus becomes his obsession with her. Mia is not the first person Peter becomes obsessed with. He’s just older and a home owner and able to better plan his shit now than he was as a teen. 
I always feel like tasm Peter Parker is a bit of a stalker/obsessive personality type. You can say it’s sweet and cute that he has a crush or whatever but that only works because he’s being played by Andrew Garfield and therefore is an absolutely sexy, charming mother fucker who can get away with it. BUT just stop for a moment and pretend that he’s some greasy, gross, awkward teenager who gives you the chills when you talk to him. Imagine that he has a bedroom full of pictures of a single girl in his grade. One who he has only ever said about five words total to. He has her pictures on his wall, she’s the background on his computer, he’s taking pictures of her without her knowledge, he’s acting almost as if they are already in a relationship despite not really knowing her (to the point that Ben low key thinks they are when he sees the pictures and asks about her). And some of the pictures are just creepily super zoomed in on just her in a group photo. If you walked into that man’s room, and he wasn’t Andrew Garfrield or a sexy superhero, and you saw all those pictures…you would be seriously fucking creeped out. He also fully stalks her after they break up and sits on a roof to spy on her while she’s out with friends. You can say it’s because he loves her, you can say it’s because he wants to make sure she’s okay, you can say whatever you want…the point is…Peter stalks her. You set an ominous, creepy music score to that scene and darken the lighting a bit and you have a whole different kind of take on what's going on. That’s the kind of vibe I wanted to give Smitten Peter. 
Anyway! Peter becomes obsessed with Gwen. Now, what’s fun about this (and I’m kind of sad I didn’t get a chance to explore more into it in the actual story) is that Peter is an unreliable narrator. As the reader, and as Mia, you can’t trust everything he tells you. He’s proven that he twists the way he sees situations. Just look at how he views Mia. He thinks he’s in a loving relationship with her. He easily convinces Ruth, the woman working at the store, that Mia was his beloved girlfriend. She had no idea he was talking about a girl trapped in his basement. So when Peter tells Mia that he went on three dates with his high school girlfriend, didn’t really love her but could have, and then she killed herself by throwing herself off the roof of a building…is he really telling the truth?? No. The answer is no. He is not. For the sake of Smitten, we can just leave it at that, because I don’t have the ability to add any extra bits to their story right now. But I know what really happened. I know how that story really all went down. I know the awful shit Peter put poor Gwen through. And I know that maybe Peter is lying when he says the first person he killed was that guy hurting a woman the night May died. *winkwink* 
Maybe someday after Smitten is done, I’ll write a little prequel of their story, because I have a lot of things to say about that and no place to do in the current story. 
That’s all. I don’t even know what this is. I just wanted to talk about Smitten lol it feels a little pretentious but fuck it. I like this story and I like lore and I wanted to talk about it. And that’s just Peter’s side. I didn’t get into all the Mia lore. Lol imma just write a whole fucking shitty novel about this on tumblr fuck it
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caitlesshea · 3 years
Text
begging for footnotes in the story of your life
Ana learns a lot about Buck while she’s dating Eddie, like how Buck’s the one who should be dating him.
Ana learns about Buck in stages.
First from Christopher, when she was his teacher, and he would mention his Buck or draw Buck in family pictures. 
The second from the school nurse telling her that Christopher is being signed out to go home and she sees his name on Chris’ school forms. 
The third is from Eddie, when he brings him up as a work colleague even though she suspects it’s more than that.
She just doesn’t realize how much more until the first time she sees the inside of Eddie’s house. 
His house is homey, much cozier than she’d expect for a single dad who’s a first responder. She says as much and he chuckles.
“Some of this I did, but most was my Abuela.”
Ana nods and walks over to the mantle to look at the photos. 
She sees a picture of a younger Christopher sitting in a high chair between Eddie and a woman who she assumes is Shannon. 
“Shannon?” She asks quietly.
“Yeah. Chris, uhh, wanted to put some up.”
Ana nods and continues looking. There’s some more of Eddie and Chris, people she assumes are Eddie’s parents and his Abuela, and then there’s Buck.
Or well, she thinks it’s Buck, with how Chris has always described him. She notices one photo in particular that causes her to pause.
“Is that?”
Eddie reaches up and grabs the back of his neck, almost like he’s nervous. 
“Uh, yeah. Buck built him a skateboard, we tried it out at the park.”
So, Buck built Chris a skateboard after Ana wrongly said that Chris should know his limitations. 
“I’m sorry for saying what I said.”
“It’s fine, Ana.” 
“It’s not.”
Eddie shrugs and Ana considers bringing it up again but she chooses not to, instead focusing on a Christmas photo that was taken at the station; Eddie, Chris, and Buck in the back smiling. 
Eddie follows her eye movement and he smiles. “Buck and Athena set that up. We were on shift on Christmas and he surprised us with our families and dinner.”
“That was sweet.” Ana feels a little out of her depth here. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this soft look on Eddie’s face before but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment. 
“It was, yeah.” 
They finish going through the photos, as Ana learns more about Eddie’s life. 
He makes them dinner, although he sticks a pan of lasagna in the oven so she doesn’t know how much he actually cooked. 
They’re about to sit on the couch, when he stops and says he’s going to grab something from his room. She follows him and notices for the first time that his room is a different sort of style than the rest of the house. 
It’s all dark blues and grays with some stylish lamps and photographs on the walls. 
She almost wishes she didn’t know about Buck now. 
“I like your room,” She comments while he grabs a blanket from the bed. It’s a soft black velvet.
“Oh, thanks. This was mostly Buck. My room apparently looked like a boring hotel room so he’s been giving me some of his stuff.”
“That’s?”
“Nice, right?”
No. She was going to say weird. But she nods instead. 
“The photo?” Ana asks as she walks closer to the print on the wall. It’s the typical California style photo, the palm tree lined street, but it’s in black and white, tasteful, where they’re usually cheesy. 
“Oh, uh, Buck took that. Had it framed for my birthday last year. Said it can remind me of why I moved us here, for a fresh start.”
“Huh.” Ana can tell it’s important to him, can tell that he loves the photo and the sentiment behind it. What she can’t tell is if he loves the photo more or the person who took it. 
“C’mon, let’s go watch the movie.” Eddie grabs her hand and she forgets about the room and Buck, at least for the night. 
~~~
Ana meets Buck in stages.
She thought she’d meet him at school, when he came to pick up Christopher, or at the school play, where Christopher was the main character, or at the science fair, or bake sale. All events she knows Buck was there for.
But, she never does. Whether it’s by luck or design, she doesn’t know. But she wishes she had, because she meets Buck, awkwardly, while on a date with Eddie. 
The one night Buck isn’t babysitting Christopher, Eddie’s Abuela watching him after Chris and Eddie’s talk, they run into Buck. 
So, she meets Buck outside of an ice cream shop. 
“Buck.” Eddie freezes beside her and she sees a tall man, taller than she thought with the pictures, with a cone halfway to his mouth. Buck lets out a sheepish smile and shrugs. 
That’s when Ana notices the woman next to Buck, she’s pretty, her red hair is gorgeous, and Ana thinks she looks familiar. 
“Taylor,” Eddie says clipped, in a voice she hasn’t heard from him since the skateboard incident. 
“Eddie,” The woman, Taylor, says just as clipped. 
Ana wonders what she missed. 
“What are you two doing here?” Buck asks and then he holds out his non sticky hand. “Sorry, Eddie’s rude, I’m Buck. You must be Ana.”
She nods and looks between Buck and Eddie who are giving each other eyes. “Yes, hi, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You, too.” Buck looks at Eddie and realizes no one is going to say anything else so he looks back to Ana.
“Would you two like to join us?” Ana asks out of desperation and Eddie looks at her incredulously. 
Buck looks at Taylor and she nudges him back. “We’d love to, but I have to get back to the station, I’m on nights right now. Next time? Buck and Eddie can schedule something.”
“Sure, bye Eddie. Ana.” Buck nods his head and she smiles at him. As they leave she can hear Taylor and Buck whispering to each other.
“That was awkward Buckley.”
“It’s not my fault he didn’t say anything…” Buck trails off and then they’re too far away to hear anything else.
Ana turns back to Eddie. “They seem like a cute couple.”
“Huh?”
“Buck and Taylor? You didn’t tell me he has a girlfriend.”
“He doesn’t,” Eddie says sharply. “They’re friends.”
“Oh, could’ve fooled me.”
“Why do you say that?” Eddie asks, looking at her for the first time since they ran into Buck.
“They seem close.” Ana shrugs. She doesn’t know why she has to explain anything, or why it would matter if Buck’s dating someone. 
“They, uhh, dated a couple years ago, but I think they’re friends now.” Eddie finally manages.
“Ohh. Okay. Friends with benefits. I get it.”
Eddie chokes on nothing and he looks a little green.
“Edmundo, are you okay?”
“Yeah, lets get that ice cream.” 
She nods and follows him into the ice cream shop, not surprised in the slightest when he orders the same flavor Buck was eating. 
~~~
The second time she meets Buck is at a party in his loft. Everyone is vaccinated and Buck wanted to have everyone over before his sister, Maddie, has her baby. 
Eddie introduces her to everyone; Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen, Michael and David, Chimney and Maddie, Albert, and then Taylor.
“It’s good to see you again,” Ana says kindly as Eddie goes into the kitchen to grab them drinks. The loft is nice, modern, and looking suspiciously like Eddie’s bedroom, but she keeps that to herself. 
“Hey, not until after dinner. You’re worse than Christopher!” 
Ana looks over as Buck smacks Eddie’s hand with a towel as he tries to sneak cookies and Ana laughs at their antics, although no one else even so much as blinks their way. 
Taylor follows her line of sight and smiles. “Oh, they’re like that. You’ll get used to it.” 
Before Ana can respond she sees Taylor slide up to Buck and helps him with setting up the rest of the food. 
Eddie comes back over to her with a glass of wine and Ana smiles even as she notices Eddie’s face is pinched. 
Before Ana can grab it she spills some on her dress and Eddie curses.
“Shit, sorry Ana.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just grab a towel.”
“Buck, I’m taking her upstairs,” Eddie shouts to Buck and he looks over and nods.
Eddie guides her up the stairs and when she sees Buck’s bedroom, she pauses. It’s almost identical to Eddie’s in style and color. He even has the same photo hanging up on the wall. She says as much and Eddie smiles. 
“Oh yeah, he came to LA for similar reasons so he had one made for his place.”
“Huh.”
“There should be Shout Wipes in the bathroom. Medicine cabinet.” Eddie points to the bathroom as he sits down on Buck’s bed like he has every right to. He probably does. 
“Thanks. I’ll be just a minute.” 
Ana closes the door and finds a towel, wetting the stain first and then finding the wipes. As she cleans, she notices the meds in the bathroom. 
She knows she shouldn’t snoop but seeing Chris’ name on one of the bottles surprises her. It looks like Buck keeps extra medicine here for backup. She notices painkillers and Eddie’s favorite brand of shaving cream. 
Feeling like she’s crossed some sort of boundary she closes the medicine cabinet and is about to head back out when she hears voices from the room.
“You spill on yourself, too?” Eddie jokes and Buck groans.
“Albert ran right into me with the dip.”
“Sucks.”
“Seriously. I can’t wait til he leaves.”
“He could go back home, you know,” Eddie says gently as Ana hears what is likely a shirt being thrown in a hamper.
“I’m not gonna do that to Maddie.” Buck moves around and then asks. “Which one? Red or blue?”
“Blue, definitely,” Eddie responds and Ana can’t see them but she has to agree, whatever blue shirt Buck puts on will bring out his eyes.
“Good, I think this red shirt is actually yours.”
Eddie laughs and Ana pauses a moment because she’s never heard that laugh before. Part fond, part exasperated. She wonders why he laughs like that with Buck. 
“Makes sense.”
“Okay, come down when you’re done, I can’t have Albert setting my kitchen on fire.”
Ana can hear Buck heading down the stairs so she leaves the bathroom. Eddie stands to come closer and she accidentally blurts out what she’s thinking. 
“You have clothes here?”
“Huh? Oh, well I did live here for a couple of months, but with the firehouse and everything we all probably have each other’s clothes.”
Eddie says it so nonchalantly that Ana can’t even respond as he heads towards the stairs. He turns to look at her.
“Coming?”
“Yeah, sorry.” She doesn’t think it’s nonchalant at all. 
~~~ 
Ana meets Evan all at once. 
It’s her first night staying over at Eddie’s, with Christopher at Hen’s house for a sleepover of his own. 
She isn’t sure what wakes her up until she hears Eddie’s sleep rough voice.
“Evan?”
Who’s Evan? 
“Yeah, no, we’ll be there.” Eddie pauses as he sits up. “Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t miss it.”
Eddie hangs up and looks at her sheepishly. 
“Is everything okay?” She asks as she sits up as well. 
“Yeah, Maddie’s gone into labor, so I was gonna head to the hospital.”
Huh? Eddie isn’t family, why is he going to the hospital?
“Okay. Let’s go,” Ana says instead of asking that question. 
“Are you sure? I can drop you off first.”
“No, it’s fine, we can go.” 
Plus this is a way for her to assert herself as an important person in Eddie’s life. 
“Thanks,” Eddie say, relieved, as he starts getting dressed. 
Ana follows suit and when they finally head to the hospital Eddie’s a bundle of nerves.
“She’ll be okay,” Ana says quietly as she places a hand on his leg. He nods but he doesn’t relax. 
He doesn’t relax, that is, until he sees Buck in the waiting room. 
“Evan,” Eddie breathes out as they hug. Ana’s momentarily shocked, because Eddie isn’t overly affectionate with anyone other than Christopher, but he hugs Buck like it’s a normal thing. 
Both of them calm down when they hug and then it hits her that Eddie called Buck ‘Evan’. She’s never heard someone call him that, but it must be his first name. 
She wonders when Eddie got that privilege. 
She feels like she’s intruding so she taps Eddie’s shoulder and he turns toward her. 
“I’m gonna grab coffee, you two want anything?” 
Buck smiles at her but Eddie answers her. 
“Black with cream for me, sugar and cream for Buck.”
“Okay.” Ana walks away and turns around just to see Eddie and Buck sitting down and bringing their foreheads together, almost unconsciously. 
“Oh, Ana, hey.”
Ana turns and sees Chimney.
“Chimney, hi. How’s Maddie?”
“She’s good. I’m grabbing her water. And waiting for Albert to get here. I take it you came with Eddie?” 
“Yeah. Is the whole station coming?” Ana asks even though she thinks she knows the answer.
“No. Only family. Hen and Bobby said they’d stop by after she’s born,” Chimney responds and then he’s quickly turning back towards the rooms. “Tell Albert when you see him that he comes in second since he’s late.”
“Sure,” Ana says quietly as she takes the coffee back to Buck and Eddie. After they grab theirs she sits next to Eddie and sees what they’re looking at on Eddie’s phone. 
“Is that Christopher?” She asks and Eddie nods.
“Yeah, I got so many photos of him when he was this age,” Eddie speaks quietly and Ana realizes that he got sent photos of Christopher because this must’ve been when he was deployed with the Army. He doesn’t talk about it much but she can tell Buck knows because Buck squeezes Eddie’s knee in support. 
The biggest shocker, though, is when Eddie grabs Buck’s hand and squeezes back.  
She once again feels like she’s intruding on something private, something theirs, and she doesn’t know what to do. 
Luckily she doesn’t have to think too much because Albert comes running in and he and Buck start arguing over who’s going to go in first, who’s going to be the better uncle. 
“Should we?” Ana gestures to them and Eddie shakes his head.
“Nah, they’re fine. This is fun for them.”
Ana nods and sits back to drink her coffee. Before she knows it, Chimney’s back in the waiting room telling them that Maddie and baby are fine and that they can all come meet her. 
Buck and Eddie jump up and Ana trails behind with Albert. 
“You don’t want to run in there?” She asks Albert.
“Oh I do, but I don’t want to overwhelm Maddie.”
Ana nods and keeps walking towards the room. When she gets there what she sees stops her in her tracks. 
Buck is holding his niece and Eddie, well, Eddie is staring at him with so much love, adoration, and abject want that Ana feels like she’s intruding. 
Eddie turns to her and holds out his phone. “Can you take a picture? I promised Chis I would show him before he meets her.”
“Sure,” Ana says like she’s underwater. Eddie’s lockscreen, a picture of Buck and Chris, barely registers. 
She hears the baby's name, Kylee Danielle, after her uncles, and watches as Buck tears up, and Eddie grabs the back of his neck. 
She then watches Buck pass Kylee to Eddie, and if she wasn’t so shocked she would notice the way Buck was watching him, the way Maddie was watching her, and the way Albert was videotaping everything. 
She would notice that Eddie looked damn good holding a baby. 
If she didn’t feel like she was intruding on a private family moment. 
She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with Eddie. 
She looks toward Maddie and Chimney, Maddie has kind but sad eyes looking at her and Ana knows now that she’s not who Eddie is meant to be with. 
“Congratulations,” Ana says quietly. “Eddie, I’m gonna go.”
“You don’t have to go,” Eddie says as he hands Kylee to Albert.
“I do. It’s okay, I’ll call you.”
It shouldn’t surprise her when he nods and turns back to the others but it does. 
She nods to Maddie and Chimney and then to Buck, who’s looking at her with an odd expression on his face. 
“It was nice to see you again, Evan,” Ana says and she hears his breath catch. 
She calls an Uber, waits outside for it, and when she finally gets home, she realizes she took some photos on her phone, too.
Ana looks at them, sees Eddie and Buck, looking like they belong together, and sends them to Eddie with the text ‘you have a beautiful family.’ 
~~~
Ana learns about Edmundo and Evan Buckley-Diaz when she gets a change of name form for one Christopher Buckley-Diaz. 
Along with the name form is an official form of guardianship for Buck, declaring him Christopher’s other father. 
~~~
Years later Ana learns about Ellie Buckley-Diaz when her fathers drop her off for her first day of kindergarten. 
“Eddie. Buck. Hi,” Ana greets them as they come out of the front office, paperwork in hand and an excited five year old bouncing on her toes. 
“Ana,” Eddie says warmly and Buck smiles. “Principal now?”
“Yeah, for a couple of years.”
“Congrats.” Eddie smiles and then turns to his daughter who pulls on his shirt sleeve. 
“Daddy, I want to see my classroom.” 
“I’ll take you,” Buck responds and gives Ana a smile. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder once and then takes Ellie’s hand. 
“Papa! We have to see it right now!” 
“Okay, okay, little monster, we will,” Buck chuckles after her. 
Ana turns back to Eddie and he smiles after them and then turns to her. 
“I’m happy for you,” Ana says and Eddie looks at her curiously.
“Thank you. I am sorry about how…”
“Water under the bridge.” Ana waves her hand and points to a photo of her and her son, Milo, and Eddie smiles. 
“He’s beautiful.”
“Your daughter is, too.” Ana wants to say she looks like a perfect mix between the two of them but she keeps those thoughts to herself. 
They’ve never been close enough for that kind of conversation. 
“Thank you. She’s certainly energetic, takes after Evan,” Eddie says this with such fondness that Ana’s thrown back to the hospital when Kylee was born, and how he looked at Buck even then. 
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Nope. Well, it was good to see you, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”
“Yeah, of course.” Ana smiles as he walks away, towards his family.
Ana looks at the photo of her son again. 
Learning all of these things about these great people led her to her greatest joy. 
She can’t be mad about that. 
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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years
Note
Hey!! Could we please get more sugar daddy fics with a black reader ofc 😋 idk if you've done shoto already but that'd be nice or hawks and deku💕
A/N: “wrist on glitter, waist on thinner, imma show you how to bag a eight-figure nigga” 👅💋 I enjoyed this way too much
All characters are 18+
Warnings: it got a lil spicy so imma put the line 
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Todoroki Shouto:
this mf has money to burn 
we all know todoroki came out the womb w cash from his hair to his ass 
he’s on some “yes, jeff bezos knows me” type shit so if you’re tryna end up with someone that’s gonna possibly buy you a house, he’s your guy 
he slid into your dms after you posted a pic with your skin moisturized and glistening under golden hour and your body had him wanting to run laps 
he had been plottin on you for a min but never got the motivation to do something about it until then
he’s a no strings attached type of sugar daddy
todoroki is a big name even outside of hero work and he’s well aware of all the people that have tried to use him. so instead of letting that happen, he’s decided to do things on his own terms 
when yall first started talking, he questioned you like this was managerial position at apple 💀 
best believe he ran an in-depth background check and made you sign an NDA 💀💀💀
he was a tough one
but you passed w flying colors and y’all settled on an arrangement
you have a weekly allowance that hits your bank account every saturday with some bonuses that he’ll give you depending on how the week goes
todoroki isnt needy nor is he one to be all up in your business 
it’s actually weird in an endearing kind of way? 
he only wants to have conversations with you 
i mean, dont get me wrong, he’s up for anything you are
todoroki would be a liar if he said he never ended some nights with a picture of you and a hand down his pants 
but that’s not what he’s mainly looking for 
you figure out very quickly that shouto just wants someone to talk to 
he’ll randomly hit up your phone and have a 30 min convo about something like the weather or hero politics, and then he’ll dip
next thing you know, you got $1000 in your cashapp
you kind of panicked bc like...wtf? 
your dumb ass messaged him: “did you mean to send $1000?”
sis, dont put a question mark where God put a period
him: “Yes.”
and that was the end of that
you dont question anymore
he’s not doting in any kind of way, and sometimes you lowkey think he forgets about you, but you still get your allowance 
doesn’t send a lot of gifts unless you explicitly state you want something
he doesnt text back a lot, but he tried to respond when he can
but i do see him liking it when you send him mundane things you do throughout your day, like pics of cookies you baked, or a cool plant you saw at home depot
and he enjoys the times you and him end up just trashing his father for nearly an hour. expect to find flowers, with some expensive ass coats or something at your door the next morning 
he really fucks w your laid back vibe 
sometimes he forgets you guys arent really supposed to be friends 
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Takami Kiego (Hawks):
this is not hawks’ first time being a sugar daddy
he’s hot, rich, and one of the most eligible bachelor’s in japan with a life that prevents him from having anything too serious
so, long story short, he’s a veteran at this 
he used to be the type to reach out to instagram baddies but he had a couple bad run-ins and decided to stick with the official sites because it was a lot more secure on both ends 
the funny thing was, you set up your account a long time ago as a joke. though at one point, you did take it seriously, but you came in contact with a lot of super creepy men that sexualized you for your skin and ethnicity. 
you were tired of the “chocolate king/queen” and “amazonian god/dess” comments,so you took a break. you didnt have much activity since
so imagine youre surprise when the #2 hero hit your line talking about some 
“Hey~ I’ll get straight to the point. I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to talk with you about an arrangement” 
you thought this was a fake account, but after he chatting for a little and sending some pictures, you knew he was the real deal 
hawks is your standard tit-for-tat transaction sugar daddy
he’s the type to hit you up at night with a “how ya doing, dove? got any pics for me?”
he’s good about his respect ad won’t do anything out of line
it’s the bare minimum, be he doesnt fetishize you so that’s always nice 
however, he does make you call him daddy, sir, etc. whether it’s through text, call, or when y’all get together for...reasons
ngl his dicc game is fire
he might ghost you for a week or so but he’ll always come back with a nice check to make up for it 
just be careful about catching feelings bc he’s so fucking smooth. he makes you feel like you’ve got his heart, but dont fall for that shit
if you think you can “change him” or fuflfil whatever wattpad romance fantasy lives in your head, he is not your guy. you better get on w your life before you get your heart broken
he’s here to suck, fuck, send pics, do a little phone call here n there, send some money, and go 
if you’re not with all that, you might as well dip 
but if you’re cool with that, rest assured, you’re gonna be living your best mf life with this man in your wallet 
and good news, you might not be his only, but you are his favorite
there’s just something about you that’s got him giving you a few extra thousand than he normally does 
he doesnt take his sugar babies on proper dates bc he’s gotta stay away from media outlets, but he will invite you to his office for a “lunch break”
if you ever surprise him with a cute but sexy hawks cosplay, you won’t have to work for two whole weeks bc you cant walk  
overall, he’s a good sugar daddy. defintely good for your pockets and any other non-romantic desires you want fulfilled
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Mirodirya Izuku:  
the way you two met and came to this arrangement was more or less an accident
the life of the number one pro-hero was lonely and stressful 
he’s tried to dip his toes in the water here and there, but it never worked out because not many people could deal with the fact that he’d always put hero work first
he was teetering on the edge of signing up for one of those sugar daddy/baby websites until he met you at some cafe he passed by 
it’s cliche really. you were his server and, honestly? he was hooked on day one 
he watched you intently as you pranced around in your cute uniform. he couldnt stop admiring your brown skin and eyes and how cute your hair was. you spoke with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he couldnt help but swoon. and it didn’t hurt that you were very easy on the eyes
he listened to you as you went on a spiel about how college was a fortune and how you stayed up last night for a project bc you had to pick up extra shifts
that’s when he made his decision
by the time the hero is out of the door, you collected the reciept and almost fainted when you realized he left you a $500 tip and his personal number 
“i enjoyed talking to you today and i hope we can continue that...here’s something small to help with your bills. and i hope this isnt too forward but you’re very beautiful. stay safe. deku.”
and what did you do that night?
you called his ass right back
you were nervous as hell bc you still couldnt believe this was real, but after talking on the phone with him for two hours, an arrangement was set
midoriya is the most gentlemen like sugar daddy out there 
you wake up to good morning texts and a few hundred in your bank account almost every two days 
he goes crazy over your insta posts. and if you wear something green? expect a bonus
takes you out shopping unprovoked 
izuku: “are you busy? i saw you were having a rough week and was wondering if you wanted to go to that new outlet mall downtown”
you: 🏃🏾‍♀️💨  
you most certainly had homework due that night but what tf you look like missing out on that offer? 
it’s after so many “dates” that deku realizes that he prefers hanging around you more than he should but he doesnt wanna ruin anything so he keeps that underwraps 
he’s the idiot that goes into this thinking he won’t fall in love
deku defintely has some dirty thoughts about you but he doesnt try to bring it up unless you do first
if you’re comfortable with anything nsfw, you gone see a whole different side to izuku
he’s a giver, giver, giver, but when he recieves, he just about loses it
send him “innocent” pics of yourself matched with a string of filthy texts and he’ll combust 
when you send him pics of yourself in deku-themed lingre, he deadass sends you a whole black card with your name on it as a thank you
you guys get very comfortable with each other very quickly
soon enough, DA’s start turning into y/n stayng over for a week 
you both realize this relatiosnhip runs a lot deeper than an arrangement when he accidentally let it slip that he told his mom about you 
he’s profusely apologizing but you shut him up with a kiss and tell him that you’ve kinda caught feelings yourself 
your next conversation works out well for the both of you 
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just--a-nb--writer · 3 years
Text
things the aftg fandom should recognize/talk about more:
neil has low self esteem.
andrew probably knew what he was going to go through when the court prescribed him his drugs.
kevin likely had an eating disorder when he was with the ravens and after too.
matt is a former drug addict and his scars are visible (not many people draw them).
nicky is a creep and only stopped being one when he got to kiss neil without his consent (which is also never addressed properly).
seth was a middle child.
allison lost her boyfriend and the responsible was in her same team.
dan has a trauma.
aaron dances when they go out.
renee must have put a lot of effort in her hair to keep it coloured.
bee knew every fox and talked with them at least once a year.
abby cared about the foxes as her own children.
wymack let the foxes enter in his house and sleep in his couch whenever they needed to, even when he knew some of them could be dangerous.
riko was also a victim, but that doesn't excuse his actions.
jean managed to keep his accent while he was with the ravens, who didn't let him speak in french, and that is remarkable.
nora was irresponsible and disrespectful in some aspects in the series and the extra content; it's the fandom who actually gives the characters more depth.
neil's mum made the conscious decision to have a kid with neil's father (for some reason, this is awkward).
cass must be the worst adult in the whole series (close with tilda).
the foxes are all around their twenties. they're not teenagers, but they're neither grown-up adults.
the twinyard's back story is told unpromptly by nicky, not by themselves.
the whole series would make a great anime better than a tv series or a movie.
this list is not complete and y'all can add your own thoughts in the matter!
I tried to make it short and talked about one single thing about every character, so I can later make singular posts about them separately.
the fandom is doing an amazing job with most stuff, but I'd love if we talked about more about this!
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