#it’s dangerously hot out there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kakushino · 5 months

Text

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground.

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines.

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position.

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching.

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.”

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd.

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom.

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him.

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do.

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber.

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration.

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?”

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed.

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?”

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size.

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

3K notes · View notes

opera-ghost · 1 month

Text

it's immensely funny to me how andrew lloyd webber read this passage from the book and was like yeah the journey down to the phantom's lair is this really breathtaking magical gondola ride where christine is just captivated by the strange and fantastical beauty of it all (see below)

when in the novel they're both like in a rowboat in the dark with christine scared out of her mind and confused as hell while erik is paddling like he's out for an extreme day of fishing and just staring christine down for the entire duration of the journey without blinking once . like mind you his eyes quite literally GLOW in the DARK and he's just fucking staring into her soul and silently rowing and probably not even breathing like

#AND IT'S SOMEHOW STILL HOT #i always forget that by this point in the book there's no “i am your angel of music / come to me angel of music” like in the musical #like she has no idea who this mf kidnapping her is and when she says “who are you where is the voice” he's just like 🙄#and when she DOES find out that *he's* the voice and he's been pretending to be an angel sent by her dead father for 3 months #it's when he's just set her down in his sitting room that's filled with a bunch of stupid pretentious flowers #and he's like “don't be afraid you're in no danger” despite the fact that she's been taken FIVE STORIES BENEATH THE OPERA against her will #by the guy who's been manipulating and lying to her through the goddamn walls #ohhhhhhhh and then fans have the audacity to get mad at christine for trying to snatch his mask like THIS MF ABDUCTED HER????#(still love him though <3)#(his morals are questionable but so is my interest in men😍)#phantom of the opera #poto #poto shitpost

580 notes · View notes

shortnotsweet · 5 months

Text

[ “SOMEBODY TOLD ME”]:

BREAKING MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME. SEVENTEEN TRACKS AND I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS GAME. A BREAKIN’ MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME—BUT HEAVEN AIN’T CLOSE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS.

— The Killers, Hot Fuss (2004)

Princess Rhaenyra’s insolence is wearing her stepmother’s patience thin. Queen Alicent is not ten years her senior, but even during her own sixteenth year, she cannot recall herself behaving so brazenly. She would never burst into courtly discussions in nothing but gilded armor and the underskirts of her riding leathers, awash in blood. (She would never be spotted in blood that was not her own, anyway. Alicent has never picked up a sword, not one that belonged to her.) Nevermind that Rhaenyra is attending to diplomatic affairs with bared teeth and scales, no—the crux of the matter is just that, her affairs. Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight, a beauty incomparable to any fair maiden, Alicent included. She indulges herself with appetite of a spoiled child, the confidence of man, and the pickings befitting only to her royal blood. Criston Cole. Daemon Targaryen. Harwin Strong. Laena Velaryon. She’s full of love, isn’t she? That selfish, foolish girl. What does Rhaenyra Targaryen know of love, of duty? She is a child in so many ways—she thinks killing makes her a man, thinks the throne is hers despite being a woman, thinks she can have her knight and her uncle and her protector and Laena Velaryon in one fail swoop. She’s wrong. She doesn’t know herself half as well as Alicent does. Alicent, who sees her for what she truly is, who wants to see all of her and more of her and none of her. Alicent has been stolen into the Keep by her own father—both of their fathers—but Rhaenyra is the key to this place, is the window to everything barred. Rhaenyra Targaryen has a dragon. Rhaenyra can fly.

That’s what Rhaenyra had promised her once, with her lips pulled back in a grin, exposing the white of her teeth like the violently radiant creature she was. “Perhaps when you grow tired of plotting against me, we shall ride on dragonback together,” she had said. The tease.

Alicent had yanked her into an empty corridor by the silk of her sleeve, ready to chastise her for her ill behavior. Conversing with the lords and ladies of the court at a feast was one thing, but chattering about her bloody encounters in battle over the pudding tureen were another. The lord at her elbow was going green. Alicent’s own face was likely red; her heart raced whenever Rhaenyra got like this. Alicent had never seen the battlefield—only seen battered men in dented armor and the slumps of corpses lined along dirt roads in the aftermath of war—but her own imagination terrified her like nothing else.

(Rhaenyra is better with a sword than half of the knights in Westeros, and more lovely than the lot. Her reign has not yet begun, but already the commoners flock to her—lured in by tales of her beauty and fine hair—and soldiers would follow her into battle. Alicent would not follow, but she would watch and bite her nails down to the quick.

She thinks of the figure Rhaenyra cuts in full armor, the heat in her gaze underneath the slots of her helmet. Alicent remembers the weight of her own hand in Rhaenyra’s—which was gloved—when the princess rode up to the spectators box and grasped it in her own, bringing Alicent’s knuckles to her lips. She thinks of Rhaenyra murdered in the sky, skewered with another man’s sword, plummeting to the ground, torn in half, streaking crimson across the clouds. Alicent would scream, or cry. She might laugh. She would throw herself from the window of her tower. Rhaenyra’s bloody exploits terrified Alicent for reasons she could not identify, and excited her for reasons she refused to.)

“I’d sooner be confined to the castle for the rest of my days than get on the back of that bloody lizard,” Alicent scoffed. Rhaenyra only tucked her hand over Alicent’s, where it was resting on her forearm. She flexed her fingers, moving to release her grip on the dark fabric, but Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers and held them fast.

“You’re confined already. You are already accustomed to such a thing. I know you. But—”

“But you forget yourself. You think you’re invulnerable, Rhaenyra. You don’t know who you are.” Alicent intends for it to be a sneer, but instead it comes out quietly, and too gentle for disdain. She can’t know. Rhaenyra is as trapped as she is, but they’re trapped together. They belong together. She belongs with Alicent.

“I am Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne and all of Westeros. I am a dragonrider. I am—I am your daughter. In a way. Your sister, too. Your enemy. Your sword, your shield.”

“And what am I?” What else is left for me? Alicent wonders.

“My Queen. For now.” Rhaenyra cocks her head, and the gleam in her eyes burns like fire raining down. “When I am Queen, you will be my lady.”

#rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra x alicent #my art #a book show fusion where alicent is the wicked resentful older stepmother first and foremost but even so she and rhaenyra have a connection #burdened by envy and fixation and reluctant affection. in this universe rhaenyra is given more liberties and trains as a knight would #is given a sword and flies into battle frequently and wears extravagant clothes which endears her to the small folk and makes her a hot #topic amongst royalty for her strangeness and charisma. alicent is expression not only of her freedom and expression #but of the company she keeps. rhaenyra has so many lovers and so many who are willing to follow her and it’s just not fair ok. alicent #and rhaenyra understand each other and know each others misery like no other. those other flings and beloved friends are going to get #her killed w how much they indulge her and encourage her dangerous habits and alicent may be in a cage but she won’t live in it alone. with #out her stepdaughter to torment and be tormented by (she represses the urges rhaenyra inspires bc she is devout to the faith) then there is #no meaning to suffering. god she’s in love w her. she hates her so much she wants to be her she wants to be with her she needs to touch her #she need rhaenyra to stop looking at other people bc it’s killing alicent by the day

442 notes · View notes

harrowedsoup · 1 year

Text

I’m always thinking about that post that said the other houses thought Gideon was Harrow’s beef cake cavalier because that’s exactly what she is.

Harrow got the invite and immediately said ‘no way I’m taking Ortus, how can I make Griddle come’ but she didn’t even realize that Gideon was considered actually good with her sword until they got there! She was just supposed to be eye candy! The fact that she’s one of the best sword fighters alive was purely a coincidence!!

#the locked tomb #harrow nonagesimus #gideon nav #griddlehark #then Harrow sees a sword at Gideon’s neck the moment they get there #and she’s like ‘oh no my beefcake cav can’t defend herself’#‘she HAS to stay out of danger’#Gideon is all confused why she’s even there #but she’s there because she’s hot and the fact she doesn’t see that despite saying how hot she is all the time is hilarious

620 notes · View notes

newdejavuu · 10 months

Text

hey! if you are going to the dallas or woodlands, tx show - listen up!

I don’t fault fall out boy (or their managers) for this but I can’t help but emphasize how stupid it is to book an outdoor show in texas for the end of june!! people outside of texas truly don’t understand how fucking hot it gets this time of year — and unless you experience it for yourself, you won’t get it.

temperatures right now are above 100 degrees Fahrenheit and "feel" much hotter than that due to humidity and UV index.

if you are going to the woodland or dallas show this week, please, please be careful!!!

as a lifelong texan who has endured this hellish heat for my whole life, here are some very important tips for surviving the summer weather (& not passing out):

be sure to hydrate days before the event (starting tonight!) drink mostly water, & if you have them, add those little hydration iv packets as well!

I would highly, highly recommend that you don’t drink alcohol at the event. alcohol is a diuretic and will dehydrate you!!! I would really recommend only drinking water (no diet coke, soda, or other beverages with caffeine, this is a diuretic too!)

check if your venue allows you to bring food & drink (I have heard the dos equis pavilion is allowing snacks! & outside water) & if they do — BRING THEM

eat before the show!! a full meal, not just nibbles of food. eat something rich in all major food groups: carbs, proteins and fats! (most people I have encountered pass out from a mixture of not eating & dehydration)

be conscious of your clothing — wear light colored, breathable fabric like cotton or linen (it’s going to be too fucking hot to make a fashion statement. TRUST ME!)

get to the venue later than you normally would. people in GA, I really really would advise against spending all afternoon in the sun, camping out. if you want to wait in the parking lot, do so in the comfort of your air conditioned car!! (i promise you, getting barricade at a fall out boy show is not worth passing out)

wear a hat!! & bring sunnies (sunglasses) if you are going to be outside before the sun sets

this part of texas DOES NOT cool down at night, so be prepared!!

dicks sporting goods & five below sell those cooling towels for under five bucks, please get one!!

most importantly, listen to your body!!! if you are feeling woozy, ill, lightheaded, nauseous or otherwise NOT RIGHT -- sit down, get help from staff, and get out of the heat!!!!

I’m not kidding when I say that it’s dangerous this time of year to be somewhere outdoors without air conditioning. we, texans, don’t go outside in the summer for a reason!!

#fall out boy #tourdust #i don't know how well prepared the venues are for this heat so i want YOU to be prepared!!!#im not joking when i say it gets hot enough here to melt rubber tires!!!#be safe!!! and if you feel ill -- don't tough it out!#id be happy to answer questions or provide additional information if you need it #even if you arent going to these shows please reblog this!!! the heat here is dangerous and i dont want anyone caught unaware!!#fobdallas #fobwoodlands

255 notes · View notes

wolfythewitch · 1 year

Text

Sean bean as Odysseus felt a little bit too heroic but I enjoyed his vibes very much

But alas I am biased, I am swayed by any bearded man with a disarming smile

#not even in a romantic way too #it tickles something in my artist brain #i want to draw it one day #that exact vibes #a dangerous smile #sean bean didn't look dangerous he just looked like it's a hot summer day and he threw out all the ice #but it's okay he was still very silly

230 notes · View notes

shallowrambles · 2 months

Text

Look, I know Lisa’s behavior re: letting Dean, someone she hasn’t seen in nearly a decade, skulk around her child’s birthday party is best explained by him being The baby-daddy.

But here’s the rub: (1) the angels didn’t even sniff towards Ben and (2) Lisa is (relatively) honest. During the year Dean was actively with her, she would have likely told him. (Cause it’s no small thing.) Especially under The Truth curse where she ranted about the loss of loved ones/hunting. (My take: It’s a cheeky…red herring. Ben was hungry for a father-figure, and Dean’s relationship to him parallels Bobby Singer.)

So while it is a truth that would be kinder to Lisa’s behavioral health/motivations/etc, the latter plot points don’t support it. Yeah, I agree that it actually makes better sense as an initial explanation for her behavior in her intro ep. But these latter points transform her behavior’s root cause, leaning towards her as a (possibly chronic?) caretaker type of person.

We do see that she is caring! She’s got a caretaker persona from her first ep, driving her to help her neighbor. She’s a good friend! Because of the later plot points, we can assume this caretaker/gratitude aspect of her character is more the driver of her actions than hiding a paternity.

#i have a cousin who is a lisa #she’s always being uber caring in her off-time #she makes herself a part-time therapist for all manner of friends boyfriends etc #she’s so caring under she gets in The Situations where she has to put her foot down #but literally she is always in a Situation one way or another #she likes being a Helper #it’s how she’s wired #she can pick a damaged guy or girl out of a crowd to nurture it is Wild #my cuz is literally my bestie so i know i would get along w lisa #she over-extends herself #she’s a great orator when it comes to communicating boundaries #but there are so many C-minus lays that become Best Night of My life for her #and soooo many Best Years of My Life with Hreat Guys it makes me dizzy #she speaks with oozing kindness and with lots of exaggeration #like lisa #she swallows her real feelings to be The Cool Girl #she is chronically lonely #it’s a Type i know so well!#and i love her very much #she thinks bars and dangerous guys are So Hot but has no street smarts #she is more well off than us but always calling is in one of The Situations

42 notes · View notes

gxlden-angels · 10 months

Text

I don't know if it's the religious trauma or the dead mom trauma but the conservative christian insistence on not teaching children about their bodies in school and insistence that this knowledge should be private in all circumstances with no exceptions should be seen as suspicious at best and criminally malicious at worst

#but wait there's more #I know this isn't a new hot take or anything #but I have 'periods' without blood cause of medical reasons and every time I get them #I think about my great aunt scoffing at me for admitting Im on birth control before she told me #how until she was maybe 16-18 y/o she thought holding hands with boys she liked would get her pregnant #and I think about being 9 y/o and just losing my mom only to be told a few months later that Im a woman now #I was barely sentient let alone a woman #and with the recent period talk ban in florida #where you can't even discuss periods without getting in trouble before 6th grade #how scared and alone I already was being raised in this cult where everything was hush hush #My dad couldn't teach me about them and my extended family didn't tell me about all of the reproductive conditions we have running thru us #so I barely talked to anyone until I was like 13-14 and so anemic I was blacking out and sleeping 14 hours a day #and no one told me it wasnt normal until then #it's dangerous at best and deadly at worst

92 notes · View notes

justanaspiringsomeone · 3 months

Text

About Vere…

He fascinates me, specifically what we know in his profile.

His dislikes is rules and puzzles but his fatal flaw is being power hungry no matter what.

It makes me wonder if he's as smart as he lets on.

Hear me out.

Now don't get me wrong, Vere is very good with people. It's how he toys with them, gets information to use for himself, etc. etc.

he plays games with people. This can make him cocky and flippant when he's serious but no one takes him seriously.

but with this in mind... I kind of wonder if Kuras tried 'testing' Vere back in the day, which resulted in his imprisonment. Had Vere not gone for whatever was placed out for him, or thought better than to believe he was the hotshot, he might've been free still.

Alternatively, if not a test from Kuras.... What if something happened that regardless whether Vere is freed he might not be at full power anymore from the Senobium.

His utter disregard for rules and, therefore, safety. Cost Vere his freedom and it's not impossible if his power isn't what it used to be.

The highs of the reward overpowered the risk in his eyes.

#touchstarved visual novel #touchstarved vn #touchstarved #touchstarved theory #touchstarved vere #touchstarved kuras #ts kuras #ts vere #ts senobium #touchstarved senobium #this is straight word vomit #i could've worded some things better but #the basic thing is #Vere ain't as hot shit once he's figured out #dangerous ofc but you know #once you know his rules #you can turn the tide

48 notes · View notes

midnight-train-of-thought · 2 months

Text

I feel like Officer Parker from Wellington Paranormal and Martin from TMA would have so much to bond over

#kindred spirits #they can complain about their bosses #and being left out of dangerous missions #and their hot co-workers #and almost dying every other day from supernatural entities #tma #the magnus archives #wellington paranormal #martin blackwood

22 notes · View notes

factorialsotherfandoms · 8 months

Text

So um yesterday's tazercraft stream happened and I caught up mostly with other people's notes and now... have this I guess. I hesitate to call it a fic, but its definitely fictional prose imagining the night after Pac's return with the two of them in Chume Labs.

Usual disclaimer of I only speak English with any fluency and so characterisation is likely to be abysmal. I just... also love these two guys and I'm doing my best to make them happy. But it doesn't seem very realistic, so I'll make Mike cry instead.

Pac will not wake up screaming, he never does. Mike had when Pac was taken from him - when Walter Bob was taken too, and each and every time he remembers the cells they have been held in. Pac, though, Pac was the strong one, the one who could handle it, who could just manage whatever situation was thrown at them - who acted like everything was okay so he could look after Mike.

No more.

Now Mike is the one sat at Pac's bedside, holding his hand even as he sleeps. Pac seems frozen in time, perfectly still even with the tension running through him. His muscles are so tight that even his back shakes with the tension, clearly stuck in a nightmare despite how quiet he is.

And Mike... Mike does not know what to do.

He thought he was a protector, but he has failed to protect in every way that matters. It had always been the two of them - Mike would shield Pac as they fought the world, and Pac would be there to patch up his wounds. But then they were taken, and then their friend was taken, and then Pac was taken leaving Mike alone and now-

If there was something to destroy it would be easier, Mike thinks.

Destroying the Federation will not be easy, and whatever he has seen in his time, alone in their grasp, Pac does not even think it possible any more; something in Pac has been broken, or perhaps stolen, and Mike can only hope that it is something that, despite his clumsy attempts to soothe, will heal.

Impossible is not a word that should be found in Pac's vocabulary, and yet...

There it is.

Mike has never been good at picking up the pieces, not when building, and certainly not of a person. But, but if Pac has broken, has slipped beneath the water, then Mike will not give in until either he is dead, or until he has Pac in his arms, fully this time around. If Pac has learnt the word impossible then Mike will forget it, and bludgeon head first into a world trying to destroy them, tearing it piece by piece until they are all safe once again.

Pac is his friend, and Mike is Pac's friend, and they mean everything to one another.

So, when he catches Pac's eyes, half-lidded, barely open, Mike will reach slowly out, and brush the hair from his eyes. He will tell him he is safe, that Mike will protect him, that nothing will be allowed to touch him again. Perhaps Mike will fail, but he will get back up and scream and try again, and do everything Pac can't until his wounds have healed and they move together again.

He will be scared when Pac does not respond beyond a slow blink, hesitate only a little before squeezing his hands. He will help Pac sit up, fold his hands around a water glass, and keep those hands steady as his friend drinks.

He will ask Pac if he is okay, and receive only a slight bowing of his head in return.

Fear will grip him tighter - it has not left yet, it had never gone - but he will pull Pac against his chest, hold him close, clutch him closer as he tries to outsqueeze the fear.

Pac will turn his face into Mike's chest, and wrap his fingers in his shirt, and say nothing as Mike makes promises of them being together, of them being home, of having trapped the area around the beds to hell and high heaven and that, even if something can make it past, it will not be quiet enough to escape Mike's notice.

Mike will hold him and comfort him and, when the words run out with Pac still silent but now trembling against him, he will let himself sob, and he will cry for the both of them.

66 notes · View notes

compacflt · 6 months

Note

hey! i was just going through your blog, and i saw a post about ice&carole and mav&goose. i looked a bit more but i couldn't find a post about your take on mav and goose's relationship, so i wanted to ask what it was. if you have answered this, i'm sorry about asking you again. imo i think what they had was wayy deeper than friendship but complex and probably not romantic, but again, i just wanted to know your thoughts on it.

thank you! and this blog has probably been one of the best finds i have ever come across on tumblr, i'll be sad to see you go.

yeah, i was really trying to be suave and subtle and mysterious about it with this parallel

like, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.

but luckily for you i looooove beating dead horses. to a problematic degree.

the full story of my vision of mavgoose (moose?) is in the completed draft of the extras that are coming out on Saturday. about halfway through. But i want to bring it back to the internal craft-of-writing debate i brought up yesterday—my inability to summarize, or to cut superfluous sections that don’t really matter.

I’ll stick it under the cut for spoiler reasons, but i wanna show the simple first draft of this scene versus the complicated, heavier final draft. And I want to ask any of you, if you’re interested—as a reader, which is more impactful? which should i end up publishing?

the simple first draft:

then i kept turning it in my head thinking of different ways to edit it to say something slightly different, to get a little more specific, coming up with things to add, and ended up adding like five extra paragraphs. which is this:

about 1/4 of the final draft (by which i mean, this is about 1/4 of the whole final discussion scene, but the goosemav-specific content only goes on for about another graf [omitted bc spoilers]):

(so to answer your ask explicitly, i actually don’t think they were anything deeper than good friends. imo there’s no evidence that they were anything deeper than good friends, especially with maverick blowing goose/goose’s wishes off soooo many times [‘she’s lost that lovin feelin;’ volleyball; refusing to do the responsible thing at least twice even after goose tells him it puts his & his family’s livelihoods at risk…bro all he does is blow off goose]. see me bitching in the tags for more on this)

obviously in my head the complicated in-depth version ⬆️ is the True version, the version of events that really Happened. i think the writing is in some spots much more compelling. But it just doesn’t make for a particularly good reading experience when it’s surrounded by like 3/4 pages of other discussion of history! sometimes too much of (what i think is) a good thing turns that good thing bad! & this is a major keystone dynamic of my whole series so i just want to get it right, for my own peace of mind. I guess im asking you to be the harsh editor i wish i had sometimes, if ur interested in doing so—this is genuinely a major major problem i have with my writing, i can’t ever just leave well enough alone 😭 please let me know if simpler is better/less is more in this case! do i publish the short vague “the reader fills in the blanks” version or the long boring “here’s EXACTLY how i see it” version?

#crowd sourcing beta readers. let me know.#also.#how many times do i have to say maverick is neither a good person nor a good friend #and the writers of TGM hugely whitewashed and dulled down the original sharpness and thoughtlessness of his character #for the sake of post-50s tom cruise mary-sueifying him #before it sticks?#if it helps you can write out a list of his actions in the original movie.#for instance: > blows off goose to be late to dinner with Charlie anyway #> follows her into the women’s restroom > continues a pattern of dangerous behavior even after #Goose his supposed best friend tells him multiple times it is threatening their jobs #the truck master scene… the locker room scene… the ‘can’t afford to blow this scene’#and then he does it a FOURTH TIME AND KILLS GOOSE HELLO!!!!!#so much for being a good friend like c’mon!!!#if he REALLY respected goose he would have SHOWN HIS RESPECT FOR GOOSE!!!#i am leaving this blog so out come the hot takes!#movies are also woobifying tom cruise lately! how’s that for a hot take #i genuinely felt insulted by TGM’s sexless passionless soft bokeh-light KIND OF half-sex with Penny. that was insulting.#what happened to the savage bitter kid in 1986 top gun? why is he so soft and toothless?#the only time we see him is in the ‘it’s not the plane it’s the pilot’ ‘EXACTLY’ exchange. THATS maverick.#sorry you know me. TGM is not my favorite. i am extremely cynical about it.#i love the IP but the writing choices in the 2nd movie wrt mav especially make me…. 😵‍💫😵‍💫#pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #mavgoose #you can ignore me bitching but pls don’t ignore my begging for secondary opinions here

31 notes · View notes