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#knowing the original one who went through all that things with him is truly gone
ryllen · 7 months
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"Bran is practically my brother's cat" - is what i would like to think
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multific · 1 year
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Too Good
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: "You can't keep showing up at my door at 2AM." "Why not?" "Because you broke up with me."
Who in their right mind opens the door at 2AM? 
Who in their right mind is in front of your dorm room at 2AM?!
You swing the door open and there he is, covered in blood, a cut on his nose.
Mattheo Riddle.
"I have nowhere else to go."
You wanted to slam the door right back on his face. You wanted to yell at him.
Instead, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into your room and to the bathroom. 
Closing the toilet seat, you made him sit down as you rampaged through your cupboard. 
"You are lucky I still have all this shit." you said pulling everything out. "Let me guess, I should see the other guy?" your eyes met his as he just kept looking. You expected a sarcastic remark or a smirk but he didn't do anything. You just let out a sigh before getting a cloth wet as you started to clean his skin. "Can you at least tell me why?"
"They were talking bad about-"
"No. I meant why are you here?" 
"I had nowhere else to go."
You put a finger under his chin as you moved him to look up at you. Your eyes search his.
"You should have gone to the nurse." you replied but he didn't say anything. He did hiss a little when the disinfectant hit the cut on his nose. "Your nose is bleeding." you said as you put a tissue under his nostril. Once he was all clean and his nose stopped bleeding, he was up on his feet as you put everything back in your cupboard.
"Thanks."
"You can't keep doing this Matt." he turned to look at you. "You broke up with me. You can't keep coming back as expect me to do things for you. I'm trying to forget you."
"I know."
"Then why? Why do you keep coming back? To torture me? You did the same thing 2 nights ago! You got into a fight and came to me to clean you up. I-"
"Because, I love you. You are the only person who cared about me, truly. And... you are too good to me, but I love you."
"This isn't fair, you broke up with me."
"I did. And now I come every other day afraid that I'll find someone else in here with you." his throat tightened as he said that, you heard it in his voice. "But you are too good for me."
"Fuck that! Too good?! Really?! Too good? That's your excuse? Matt... I love you, isn't that all which should matter? Our love for one another? Too good?"
"You are a pure-blood witch. Your father will never approve of me." you let out a groan. "When I went over last month to meet your parents... your mother was lovely but I saw the hate in your father's eyes."
"My father looks at everyone like that. It's his casual face."
"And the things he asked me! About my future plans, about my plans with you, about my studies... I-I just... Panicked!"
"So, my father scared you so much, you broke up with me." you crossed your arms as he nodded. He turned and walked over to the door, ready to leave. "He approved of you by the way." you said just as he was about to turn the doorknob. He slightly turned to look at you. "He said he likes it that you are a free spirit. Didn't mention anything about blood. He said if he could, he would let me marry you right now. Probably not right now as you are all bloody and stuff but yeah."
"He-He really said that?"
"I told him we love each other and you treat me right. Remember the dinner I invited you to? The one next week?"
"Yes, your mother's birthday."
"Right, he wanted to tell you then. I think it is a silly tradition to ask the father for approval... but it seem to mean a lot more to you than I originally thought would." Mattheo looked around your room, letting out a sigh.
"SHIT! FUCK!" he yelled.
"Yeah, but if I tell him you broke up with me... his approval will be just as broken as your nose was." 
"FUCK!"
"Stop yelling, you will wake the entire school up!"
"I'm so so so fucking sorry! I really thought he hated me! The way he-"
"It's his face. You should see him smile... it is more scary than the resting bitch face."
"But-But he- Did he really say he approves of me?" you nodded. "And your mum?"
"You won her when you gave her the bouquet." 
"Fuck, I'm stupid!"
"You could have told me the reason behind your sudden break up, but at least now you know."
"We have to keep this a secret! Don't tell them, your father will actually kill me!"
"So, what you expect me to not tell them that we broke up for three weeks?"
"YES! We will mention it in the future... maybe after our third child... it will be a funny story nothing more. Fuck, I'm stupid!"
"Third?"
He suddenly walked over to you and hugged you.
"I love you so much Princess. Please, please forgive me."
"You will be on your knees all day. Begging me to forgive you, you will bring me anything I want, and I do mean anything!" he pulled back, looking at you, his hands on your hips. 
"I promise."
"Promise me you will never do this again. We can always talk things out."
"I promise you, Y/N. It will never ever happen again." you nodded as he leaned down and sealed his promise with a kiss.
"Good. I love you."
"I love you too!" he pulled you back for a hug. A couple of silent minutes passed before you giggled and asked.
"Third child?"
"A girl. She will be as beautiful as you." he was so confident he almost convinced you it will be real. 
At least now you had him back. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 months
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Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,354 Words
Summary: Sun and Moon take Earth and Lunar on vacation, which leaves Ruin and Solar to babysit Eclipse.
Warnings: Imprisonment?, Babysitting, Brotherly Bonding, Self-Esteem Issues, Touch-Starved, Cursing, Fluff, Mild Angst, let me know if I should add anything else.
To Babysit A Grown Man
The fact that they’d allowed him to live now was seemingly moot, Eclipse was a glorified maid at this point. They always had him cleaning and running their errands for them. Especially Moon, Moon the most out of everyone with Sun being the second most.
Lunar avoided him, Earth as well due to unsavory memories at the previous Eclipse and the Original. Ruin outright hated him. Solar was the one who was ‘friendliest’. Solar didn’t make him do things, but he also didn’t pay Eclipse much mind. But at least Solar wasn’t using the household ’maid’.
Eclipse had been most surprised when Sun, Moon, Earth, and Lunar left on a family vacation, leaving him under the direction of Ruin and Solar. He wasn’t sure why they’d trusted to leave him under the influence of their cousins alone when they’d kept him under strict lock and key before.
It was a stretch to think they were beginning to trust him, so perhaps it was an exercise to see if Ruin or Solar would truly betray them while they were all screwing off to the Bahamas or wherever they’d gone. Eclipse sure didn’t know where they’d gone, he’d just been told they were on a week-long vacation.
Eclipse sighed as Ruin went to charge and finally the judging eyes left as Solar was now taking shift to watch him like a babysitter. It was infuriating but, not that Ruin was gone, he was relieved. He’d rather be ‘babysat’ by Solar anyway. At least Solar didn’t threaten him constantly.
“So what are you up to, huh?” Solar asked, following Eclipse as he went to the daycare kitchen.
“Hobby. Thankfully Moon didn’t throw it out before he left like he said he would.” Eclipse grazed his hand over the large bowl of dough on the counter he’d made a couple hours ago under Ruin’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Yeah, been meaning to ask about that. What is that giant container thing you have on the counter all the time? Venom or something?” Solar asked.
“Bread starter. Sourdough.” Eclipse answered as he took the cloth off the bowl and put flour on the counter, tipping the dough onto the counter and using a knife to divide it into six. God, he made too much. Eclipse sighed at the amount he’d made and shook his head.
“Why’d you learn how to make bread, Clipse?” Solar asked, simply sitting at the table with his feet on it as he scrolled on his arm computer.
“I wanted to learn something…harmless, I guess. It just interested me when I saw videos of it.” Eclipse told him, mixing matcha powder into one of the six doughs and putting nutella on the inside of the dough as he rolled it up and put it into one of the six baking dishes he had out for the bread.
“Well, I’m glad you found a hobby. What kinds are you making?” Solar asked.
“Well, I made too much. And I don’t think I can stand all one flavor. One of them is matcha nutella. One last said it tastes good but I’m not sure for the rest.” Eclipse tried to figure out what exactly to do with the rest.
“You want help?” Solar asked.
“You know how to make bread?” Eclipse asked.
“Nah, I’m not into baking. But I can suggest shit we have so you don’t overproof it, or whatever it’s called, having to go get more stuff to use.” Solar chuckled at him.
“Hm. Sure.” Eclipse agreed.
“I have instant espresso. You can probably put instant espresso powder in one so you have coffee flavored bread.” Solar suggested.
“That…actually sounds good.” Eclipse muttered as he looked through Solar’s cabinet and got out the instant espresso powder, mixing a bit into one of the doughs and putting it into a baking dish.
“Chocolate powder in one of the others Then we have blueberries you can use for one. Maybe one plain bread. Aaaand maybe rosemary and garlic.” Solar suggested.
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Eclipse grumbled as he did the other four as Solar had suggested and scored them and put them into the oven with a pan with hot water.
“I don’t like baking but that doesn’t mean I don’t like bread.” Solar told him.
“Well, yeah, bread is good.” Eclipse sat with him to watch the oven. “Get your damn feet off the table.” Eclipse playfully shoved Solar’s legs off the table and onto one of the other chairs.
“Ugh. Can’t a guy put his feet up?” Solar sighed.
“Not when you’ve got those damn boots on. I don’t wanna clean the table a third time today alone.” Eclipse rolled his eyes.
“How long?” Solar nodded to the oven.
“Twenty minutes. Take the tops off and 20 more. Sadly, they need to rest for like an hour after before I can cut them.” Eclipse watched the clock.
“Fucker. Why can’t we eat molten lava bread?” Solar whined.
“Because it’ll kill every bit of our internals it touches. And it needs to cool to cut it. Or it won’t cut right or something.” Eclipse told him.
“Despair and disappointment.” Solar chuckled. Eclipse felt relaxed, he liked this little banter. It felt like he wasn’t being babysat, it felt like he was at home with a friend. Family? Were they family? Did Eclipse even get that title?
“You’re overthinking again. What’s in your head?” Solar asked.
“I…just….Are we family? Do I deserve that even? O-Or am I just being delusional or something?” Eclipse asked.
“You’re not delusional, we are family. You’re like my little brother kinda.” Solar smiled.
Eclipse halted and stared at Solar with slight awe. He’d thought Solar would call him a cousin or second cousin thrice removed or whatever meaningless title he could think of. Hell, he thought he’d get told no and called a nuisance.
To be called brother. It felt like someone lighting a fire into his core, it made his processors run on overdrive and his engines turn warm with heightened intensity. Eclipse felt…happy? Wanted? Loved? All he knew was he felt warm and excited.
“Eclipse, your bread.” Solar reminded him, opening the oven and taking the tops off for him.
“Thank you.” Eclipse felt tears well over his cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile, artificial breaths staggered with tears.
“You’re welcome.” Solar told him, not yet noticing that Eclipse was in tears. Solar put the tops of the cooking dishes in the sink to be washed. Solar came and sat back down with him and Solar finally seemed to take notice of Eclipse’s tears.
“You okay?” Solar asked, sliding a hand over but hesitating to hold Eclipse’s hand.
“You really see me as your brother?” Eclipse asked softly.
“Of course I do. I don’t get much time to hang out with you but yeah, you’re my brother.” Solar held his hand and Eclipse melted into more tears because of it. He hadn’t been touched that gently before, ever that he could remember.
“You’re too nice to me.” Eclipse whispered.
“Eclipse, come here.” Solar forced Eclipse to stand and hugged him into his arms. Eclipse melted against him and cling on tightly. The hug was so simple but it made him break down finally, choked sobs leaving him. His engines felt so warm and his processors felt like they were burning.
“It’s okay. I get it, it’s okay.” Solar rubbed his back softly and Eclipse sniffled, his fit of tears slowly petering off. He let go of Solar slowly and wiped his tears off his face, trying to stop crying.
“Thank you.” Eclipse whispered.
“No problem, little brother.” Solar ruffled his rays and made him laugh a little at the feeling of his messed up rays.
“Now about bread, I’ve got questions on if we can bake moondrops into them.” Solar told him.
“If we crack them like eggs maybe. Or melt them down.” Eclipse answered, laughing more at the idea.
“We’re doing that and giving it to Moon. Maybe force him to sleep for once.” Solar told him.
“You’re taking the blame. Not it.” Eclipse claimed.
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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months
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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 3)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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GIF: Originally posted by @sassycherryblossomtree
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Physical intimacy.
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: What a full on week! I've had a job interview. Got turned down for said job. Went to a Sandman filming location (Natural History Museum) and watched Dune Part 2 (cannot recommend enough). It took away from my writing time a bit but part 3 is here now, and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. Part 4 will be coming soon. All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
---------------------------------------------
"Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."
The sentence is a catalyst, fuelling the physical and emotional reactions in both the surroundings and your body.
The wind is gone, leaving a claustrophobic air that crackles with untameable energy. The streetlight above violently flickers and flares, the unmistakable noise of a circuit about to overload emanating with each surge.
You feel these surges within your chest too, stoking the warmth radiating through you to an uncontrollable blaze. The ferocity of the sensation makes you whimper.
The man's hands are still touching you. Cradling your face and holding your hand; he feels the tremble that couples with your vocalisation.
"I understand. I feel it too," he whispers. "Though I imagine it is much more intense for your mortal heart to bear."
He eyes are raven black as he strokes his thumb back and forth over your cheek, before strengthening the hold he has on your face.
"Let me kiss the pain away."
He gives you no time to respond. He leans in the last few centimetres and puts his lips firmly against yours.
At first, contrary to his intent, the pain amplifies. He grunts, indicating that he has felt this spike also yet begins to move his lips regardless. It's like your heart is a balloon and it is being overfilled with air, close to exploding and obliterating you from existence. You then feel as if you are about to black out and want to pull away, and are about to try when the agony starts to subside.
The seduction begins.
The fire is mellowing with each press of his mouth, transforming into a restorative, yet sensuous energy. It's alleviation akin to calamine on a sunburn.
It awakens a primal need in your soul. This man is fundamental to you. He is the only one who can truly protect you from harm. You must remain with him. Give yourself to him.
You act on this revelation and kiss him back with a hunger that you didn't think you were capable of demonstrating.
Your reciprocation sends him into a frenzy. He cages you against the damp wall of the building and kisses you with unyielding, dangerous passion.
His skill is impressive, changing technique frequently to keep you guessing. Smothering kisses, bruising kisses, slower kisses to give you time to breathe. The hand that was cupping your face is now stroking down your side; breasts, waist, hips and back up again.
Tentatively, you raise your free hand to the back of his head and run your fingers through his wild hair. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied vibrating sigh of sorts that encourages you to dig deeper into the silken locks.
He escalates things by slipping his tongue into your mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smirk as you moan in response. His taste is a potent blend: a smoky base, herbaceous core and ambrosial top notes. You are drunk on it, and him seconds after exposure.
Logic has left you. Schedules and duties cast aside.
The juxtaposition between the present and minutes prior would be frightening if not for how correct all this feels. You had been disgusted and alarmed by his conduct, ready to bring in reinforcements and then all of it had dissipated like dust under a short, sharp breath.
It is not a ridiculous change in behaviour; you were supposed to be doing this. This stranger is all you want.
He pulls back when even his slower kisses are unable to calm your elevated respiratory rate, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he does so to draw another moan from you.
The blue of his eyes shimmer with a myriad of emotions. Lust stands out the most along with awe and relief. Your cheeks prickle with a light blush as he continues to stare and document every detail.
"I have been waiting to do that for thousands of years, my precious soulmate," he eventually says in reference to the kiss after absorbing your image for a while.
There's that word again. Soulmate. You hadn't exactly been allowed a period of contemplation when the man first uttered it, too swept up in the fire and his touch, but now with the semi-reinstation of coherent thoughts you begin to assess. It proves difficult. Your cerebral matter feels like a mixture of treacle, sap and epoxy. Trapping words and slowing down your processing power. It would be so simple to let yourself live in this mental mire and be carried along by his whims.
No. You scold inwardly. Ask a question.
"What do you mean by soulmates?" You force yourself to speak.
He guides your palm to rest on his heart and sets up a mirror image with his hand on your chest. "It means that we are bound together, made for one another."
The next question is easier to form. "And what now, given that you've found me?"
"Now," His hips grind into yours. "I will continue with the ritual of awakening you to the metaphysical connection between us, stripping back the shrouds and glamours that have been protecting your mind from the gravity of this gift."
That explained why everything shifted when he first touched your skin.
"Are you going to do that here?" Your brain is really starting to break free of its trappings and you need to ascertain his plan for it sounds like his intentions are of a sexual nature and you are in a public place.
"No, your time in this world has reached its end. I will take you to my realm, lead you to my chambers and I will not stop stimulating you until I have taken residence in your every thought, every cell."
The speed and confidence with which he is pouring forth all of these sentiments, and the near-full recovery of your mental faculties triggers a wave of nausea. Perspiration forms on your nape and ears and your core temperature feels off; warning signs that you get when you are about to vomit.
He still hasn't let go of your hand. You hone in on the softness of his skin, hoping you can use him as an anchor as you wade through the icky symptoms.
Recent events are starting to catch up with you. You replay it all.
Soulmates. Mortal. Thousands of years. Metaphysical. Realm. The unexplainable environmental manifestations. The strange shifting qualities of his eyes. What kind of supernatural devilry had you managed to become ensnared in?
Was he in fact the devil?
You are so conflicted. This being, for you are convinced that 'man' is no longer the correct term, is telling you things that threaten your entire way of life and your heart is pushing you to seek comfort from him!
Then the voices start.
Your sense of balance tilts and you instinctively grasp his forearm for stability. He says your name and you drag your focus from your thoughts to his face. He is looking at you with deep concern.
"Tell me," he commands gently.
"I feel dizzy... And I can hear voices."
"How many?"
"What?"
"How many voices?"
Your eyes are wide as you struggle to understand the relevance of his question.
You stammer out a couple of syllables.
"Breathe," he encourages.
You obey and concentrate on the hubbub.
"Three. Everything is being repeated three times."
The frown lines smooth and he is smiling faintly. "It seems The Fates are vying for your attention."
"The Fates? Like in Greek mythology?"
"The very same."
Was this being a God then?
"They're telling me to close my eyes," you relay as soon as the instruction is delivered.
He nods. "That will be the trigger that transports your mind to their location."
"Will I pass out?"
"No. It will be a temporary connection that keeps your body frozen for mere moments."
"I feel so dizzy though."
"I can hold you while you converse with them should you wish."
You nod somewhat frenetically as a sliver of fear creeps into your mind. "Yes, please."
He lets go of your hand for the first time since you tried to go back in the building, slips his arms around your waist and he pulls you close with a satisfied sigh. The neediness with which you are clinging to him lessens your apprehension just a little.
"How does that feel?" His voice rumbles deliciously through your chest.
"Good, thank you."
"You should close your eyes now. It is best that you do not keep them waiting."
"Okay."
"I'll see you in a few moments."
You shut your eyes.
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The scene you awaken in is all lemon yellows, blush pinks and pastel blues. There's no landforms or structures. Just a never-ending stretch of bedrock, topped with a horizon that is beginning to show a sumptuous sunset.
You squint a little and then notice that there is a actually a point of interest. A lump of rough rock, waist height. There's a divot worn into the top that makes the obtrusion look like a font. For a moment you see a single figure standing at it.
A figure that appears to have three faces.
But then you blink and the number has tripled.
Maiden, Mother and Crone.
The trio block the worst of the sun glare, and the light that isn't obscured is highlighting the translucent layers that overflow from their intricately constructed and adorned outfits. Their curly hair, like the fabric of their clothes, flows freely in the gentle breeze.
You walk towards the group, thinking back to that term in school where you studied Greek mythology. Under no circumstances did you ever think that any of it could possibly be true, yet here you were.
You stop a respectable distance from them and quickly avert your eyes downwards to look at the ruby ring on your right hand.
One of them speaks, "You need not be intimidated by us, sweetness."
"I only wish to pay respect to you, your Graces."
You chance a peek at the Fates and see amusement in their eyes.
"Oh, you are going to fit in very well in his world," the Mother says with a smile.
You don't know what to feel about that comment however you don't have time to dwell on it for the eldest addresses you.
"Come closer. Let us look at you."
And look they did. Their resolute gazes are just as discerning as the stranger's but unlike his, where you knew he was soaking you in, you feel like the Fates are seeing through you.
You don't know what exactly it is that they are looking for but their smiles give the impression of being appeased.
"Has Morpheus told you how this will go?"
"No..." You hesitate before speaking his name, "Morpheus has not."
"He didn't tell you his name, did he?"
"We didn't get a lot of time for small talk," you admit sheepishly.
"We can see that from the state of your lips."
"He always was rather forward with his physical affection."
"Touch starved," the Crone finishes.
You are beyond embarrassed. How swollen were your lips for it to be that obvious? You can almost feel his touch now, it tingles like phantom caresses on the skin of your neck, chest and waist. You swallow hard before further lust can thicken your throat.
The Fates then speak in turn again, explaining the context of your rendezvous.
"You will have the opportunity to ask three questions."
"That is the custom when meeting with us."
"There is no need to rush."
Choosing only three questions will be tough when there are hundreds you could ask. Were you losing your sanity? Was Morpheus a demonic envoy from the underworld sent to corrupt your mind?
You suppose all you really want to know is whether this is real.
"Is he telling the truth about us being soulmates?"
The Maiden answers in a musical voice, "He is. The confluence of yours and Morpheus' lives has been written for millennia. Your souls have been intended for each other since he came into existence. You were never meant for anyone else but him."
You feel like you are about to cry. That last statement cuts deeply.
"All those times that potential partners lost interest or ghosted me. It was because of this soulmates thing," you murmur the statement, aware that you don't need to ask them to know if it is true.
Years of heartache and confusion had been for nothing. The nights spent wondering if you had done something wrong, the days where you threw yourself into your work to distract from it.
You cannot regret all the good things you managed to create as part of your team at the charity yet it is hard to look past the personal torment that countless unexplained rejections caused. You are human after all.
Selfishness rears its head and pushes the next question from your mouth with a tone of indignation.
"Why am I only finding out about this now?"
The Mother takes over, tone caring and brown eyes cordial, "It was not necessary for you to know."
Ire disintegrates into frustration. "But I could have been preparing. Not building a life that I was clearly going to have to give up."
"You would not be the person you are had we given you warning. You needed to live as a human, not as someone who was fated to be with the King of Dreams and Nightmares. Besides, there was no possibility of you being together. For 106 years, Morpheus was the prisoner of a human, and it was the recent end of his captivity that allowed fate to take its intended course. Reaching your potential on Earth gives you a strong foundation from which to guide and influence him in how to best serve humanity, and learn to trust in them once more after what he suffered at the hands of one."
The amount of information you have just received is like a freight train. One after the other, the revelations barrel into you and you take refuge in your mind.
The King of Dreams and Nightmares; not a title you had heard of before. Yet there is a strange sense of recognition. A forgotten memory that barely flickers with life. You ignore the niggling thought and focus on the more devastating one.
This King, your soulmate was held against his will, subjected to suffering. You cannot bear the idea of it regardless of how few details you have at present. Your chest aches and you know your soul is the source.
Fury twitches in your fingers, as fiery as the now burnt oranges and bloody reds of the ever-progressing sunset. You want to know who could do such a terrible thing but you realise that it is not the most important question you could be asking.
You look back to the Fates. You note their proud smiles at your restraint.
"What role am I expected to play in his future?"
The Crone moves to centre stage, "You are to be his everything. Muse. Lover. Queen. Advisor. Confidant."
Your stomach twists.
"Are you ready to return to him?" The Maiden asks, taking you off guard.
You feel like you a patron being kicked out at closing time with half a drink left. A fizzy one that you can't knock back easily.
What you've just been told honestly scares you. It's a mountain of expectation, the sort of thing that could birth an inferiority complex. There's also your self-preservation instinct starting to scream. You've seen darkness in his eyes, felt his physical strength and heard how resolute his statements are.
You have to say something.
"I'm worried about what would happen if I disappoint him, if he would hurt me."
The trio step closer, the scant remnants of sunlight reflect off their perceptive eyes and the metal of their matching earrings.
The Crone speaks solemnly, "It has been well-documented that Morpheus has a ruthless nature. As one of the Endless siblings, he is among the most powerful beings in the universe; equal parts creator, and destroyer."
The Mother touches your cheek with a warm hand. "But you have just as much power to hurt him, sweetness. We have provided you with it."
The Maiden nods in agreement, and takes your hand.
"He deals in fears, yes but his domain also lies in fantasies. He will be able to furnish you with yours. He has been made to be perfect for you."
"But -"
"This is not a loss of agency or an act of surrender. Put aside your qualms, listen to your soul and ask yourself this: do you find him attractive?"
"Yes." He's the most attractive person you've ever seen.
"Do you care for him?"
"Yes." Your reaction to his imprisonment is evidence enough of that.
"Do you want to a chance of happiness?"
"Yes." Deep down beneath all the doubt and overthinking and catastrophising, it's exactly what you want.
You want Morpheus.
"I'm ready," you say calmly.
You take a step back from the Fates and bow.
"Thank you for your time, your Graces."
The sky is an inky violet with daubs of dark blue, the sun is a thin line on the horizon. It sets, signalling the end of the meeting and your time as an ordinary mortal.
"Fare you well," the Fates' voices echo in unison as everything fades to black.
-------------------------
Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines
"Deep in my heart, deep in my mind. Take me away, take me away. This is my word, dream maker, life taker. Open up my mind."
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pedrostylez · 1 year
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Before Mi Luz
pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
summary: reader and Javier are coworkers that typically hate each other, but find each other helpful in relieving that stress
rating: 18+ (no minors please)
word count:4.6k
warnings etc: smut, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, pet names… NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: This is the prologue to my first writing “Mi Luz” with Javi and reader. There's some context and then a dirty ending…if I have misspelled anything or whatever please tell me omg
You were carrying your box of personal items, ready for your job to start. Did you know any Spanish? No. Did you know anyone that you were working with? No. But…they had recruited you for your organization and for your ability to remember things, and that alone gave you some confidence that you didn’t originally have.
Your first day would have gone off without any issues if you hadn’t bumped into the first person you saw as soon as you entered the building. It was the damn heels you thought you had to wear, but after today you would make the argument that you were more efficient without them. No one was hurt, but you were startled, and as you went to apologize a gruff voice said “watch it.”, which you would come to find out later was Peña. You scoffed, and continued on to your office that you had been shown the previous day. That must have been the only time you would see him…right? The embassy was big, and for all you knew, you would never see him again. 
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You had never yelled at anyone before-not like this. Sure, maybe at your younger sister when she stole something from your room, or at your dad when he had drank too much and hurt your mom, but you really truly weren’t like this. You were infuriated beyond measure, to the point of almost crying. And you knew plenty of people who cried when they were angry, but you weren’t one of them. You stood your ground, said your piece, and it would end there-someone would be declared a winner. Even when they tried to stoop low and make you hurt, say things that normal people wouldn’t say, you never lost your cool. 
But fighting with Peña was different. He was in your space, fucking around with your files when you had gone on lunch, and now you were screaming at each other. He was stooping lower than anyone else you had ever met, grinding every gear and just getting under your skin. Couldn’t he leave well enough alone?
Peña didn’t know how it started at all-he had come in here to ask you a question and you were missing. He waited 10 minutes exactly, until 1 pm when lunch ended for administrative staff, and when you didn’t return he started rifling through what he assumed would give him answers. Of course, it didn’t, and so he started opening more boxes. 
He didn’t hear you come in, because unlike the other girls in the office you wore either flats or tennis shoes. He teased you about it, seeing as it was not considered protocol, but you didn’t like it when he spoke to you and he didn’t necessarily get why. 
And now you were screaming at him and he was matching your energy. He needed intel and you weren’t here, what was he supposed to do? Let them get away?
You were arguing that he could have fucking called you, or had gone to the cafeteria where you had your lunch. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? Was he supposed to crawl around on his knees and wander around and beg you to help? 
He could see the fire behind your eyes, almost as if you were blacking out this argument, and it only fueled him more. You wanted to be angry? He could be just as angry. 
And when Murphy came in to break it up, Peña was pushed out of the room and heard muffled sobs. Man, had he really been that aggressive? But you started it! He could hear Murphy cooing at you to calm you down, telling you that Peña was wrong to speak to you that way. He was asking you what Peña had asked you-for the exact same intel. The way that you blindly gave it to Murphy so that only a few minutes later that blonde-headed asshole came out into the hallway to shake his head at Peña and shove the file in his chest, made Peña wonder what your deal was. 
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Today was rough on multiple levels. Everything was out of place,  Peña and Murphy needed way more intel than you could provide, and to top it all off they had caught one of Escobar's closest henchmen.
Your hair was starting to frizz. The door to the embassy and into the office and therefore into your basement back room had been opened so many times that the humidity felt like it was drowning you. You picked your shirt off your chest, trying to create some airflow as you exited the bathroom directly across from the archives.
Bumping into Peña was always a hassle, just like the first time. Today it had been happening over and over because of how much information he needed, but in general, you avoided him. Murphy was nicer, smoother with talking to women since he actually had a wife, but blunt enough that he didn't waste time.  Peña on the other hand...
You could see why the girls in the office liked him-his jaw, the puppy dog eyes he used when he wanted something...but that was all he had. And he didn’t use the puppy dog eyes on you. Speaking to him wasn't typically pleasant, and you came to find out by listening to the men in the office that he really only paid for sex. It would explain why when he was talking to women in the office he relied on his eyes and talked lowly rather than with any charisma. You were thankful that he didn’t find it worth his time to try his hand at seducing you.
When he bumped into you again as you exited the bathroom, you had to hold your tongue. Was it really that difficult to see where he was going? "We got 'em." He said breathlessly, a small smirk coming to his lips as he looked at you shaking your shirt for some sort of cool air.
"Oh, that's great." You were sure you sounded monotone, but after the length of this day you didn't really care to be polite.
"It's uh...it's because of your archives of previous intel." He stated, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Why is it so damn hot in here?"
"People keep opening the door and letting out my cold basement air." You grumbled. It sounded like  Peña was trying to thank you for helping, but you weren't going to assume that. If he wanted to thank you, then he would, but since he hadn’t ever before, you doubted it.
 Peña's lips ticked up in the corner again. "Murphy sent me to invite you out for drinks with the rest of the office since it was because of you." He breathed, placing his hands on his hips.
You glanced at his shirt that seemed to have no buttons working, practically open to his navel with sweat covering his throat and collarbones. Eyes shooting back up to his face seeing his smirk deepening, you thought that maybe this was why others in the office swooned-that damn smirk.
"I appreciate it, but I am not sure I am going to go." You sighed, moving away from him and going back to the archives room where the air was still damp but cooler. He followed you, tilting his head as he held open the door. "Either come in or don't  Peña, stop holding open the door."
"You really want me to disappoint Murphy? And his wife?" Peña saw you eye him, and it was the first time he ever caught you. Maybe your walls were starting to come down after the year and a half you had worked with him and Murphy, and maybe he could get you to open up like Murphy got you to. In a way he was jealous that Murphy and his wife had such a good relationship with you-but he didn’t try too hard either. 
"I'm not sure that is all that new  Peña." You smirked, picking up files that had been used today and placing them back on their appropriate shelf.
 Peña scoffed at your dig at him. You were starting to make jokes at his expense, which he assumed was a good sign. He knew how tidy you kept this room, knowing every piece of information down to the letter and where it belonged. Most of the time Murphy would ask you a question regarding a member of the cartel and you could rattle off the answer before providing the file as proof. It was like you were their own personal library that they could press a button and the answers would appear.
He realized now that it was why you had gotten so upset with him and had a screaming match with him all those months ago. He never apologized to you, and just let Murphy do the talking.
But you were always sharp-tongued with  Peña. Murphy joked that you preferred blondes over brunettes, but  Peña saw the way you looked at him just now, and noted that it probably wasn’t the first time. It was like you wanted to know more, but wasn't willing to because of how much you hated him. Maybe you wanted to keep your job secure and not risk a hate fuck-others in the office weren't too worried about their job. He never had to work hard to get someone to fuck him. And if in the case that no one wanted to, he would go find "intel" of his own and pay for it, which typically meant he had to talk to you the next day to update you on a file or add information to one.
He could see your jaw ticking every time he came in the next day, smelling slightly of another girl's perfume as you noted down the information he gathered. Always silent, staring at his chin or his neck instead of his eyes. He didn't know how to win you over, but upsetting you was sometimes just as good.
He sighed, closing the door behind him as he walked away. He wasn't really keen on going to this celebration either. It was unusually hot today, and it wasn't like they caught Escobar himself. Sure, it was someone close to him, but he didn't want to celebrate too soon. The only way he was planning on going was if you were, if not to just annoy you and watch how you were when you relaxed.
He heard stories from the girls that would gather around a desk at lunchtime to chat about their weekend, and he knew that you could have a good time. He had just yet to see it. And he wanted to-desperately.
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A deep sigh left your lips as you shut the archives door behind you, locking it and sliding the key into your purse. Somehow you had become the key holder, and you didn't mind it. You stayed later, and didn't trust one of the other workers to not mess up the organization system you had carefully crafted for the embassy.
Trudging up the stairs and breaking a sweat as a wave of heat hit your face, you glanced over to the pit-where all the officers desks were-and saw most of the lights off. Only one remained, cigarette in the air almost to it's end.  Peña's eyes shot up to yours, seeing that you were watching him. "Heading to the bar?"
You scoffed, shaking your head and walking towards the front door. "No, I am going to go home and take a cold shower."
"Wait-"  Peña put out the cigarette and quickly stood up, grabbing his jacket that had his keys in it. "I'll walk you out."
"You don't need to do that, I am typically here alone when leave anyways." Him asking to walk you out stopped you in your tracks. You couldn't tell if he had ulterior motives or if he was just being polite. Why was he all of a sudden being nice to you?
"I'm heading home too." He laughed, walking up to your side and pausing with you. "It's not as sweet of a victory until Escobar goes down."
You nodded, motioning to the door and beginning your trek to your car. It wasn't a long walk, but it was likely to be hot and you would need to take a few breaks. You didn't get the front parking spot typically, seeing as you worked in archives and weren't leaving during the day like the agents were. It made you thankful that you made the switch to sneakers early on, and didn’t have sores on the back of your feet like some of the ladies. 
 Peña walked beside you, slowing his stride enough to see which direction you were headed. His car was parked up front, now next to empty spots but typically next to Murphy's. "Where is your car?"
He followed your point, seeing that you were going to walk around 10 minutes uphill before you would reach your car. "I don't get VIP parking Peña." You laughed-he had never heard you laugh. He watched you start to walk away, giving the smallest of waves and he knew that something in the air was different tonight. He wanted to hear you laugh again. 
"Let me drive you over there then." He blurted, stomping out his cigarette and placing his sunglasses on his face. He wanted you to say yes, and he felt like he could persuade you easily. 
His offer surprised you, making you turn around and look at him. "What? No, it's fine." The sun was at the wrong angle and you had to shade your eyes, seeing his pink shirt had slight sweat marks on the collar. 
He smirked, pointing his thumb at his Jeep. "I have air conditioning, and that way you don’t have to sweat the whole way over."
He knew he had you willing when you stood stock still and tilted your head, looking at his car. It was a tempting offer…
And you didn’t say anything besides walk carefully over to the passenger side of his car. He was still shocked, having to move quickly to unlock it so that you didn’t change your mind last minute. He slid into his seat, immediately starting the engine and blasting the air to get it 
moving. 
You both sat in his car for a couple minutes, staring at his radio as he changed the channel until he found something he liked while the air began to cool down and you could feel yourself start to relax. The air felt nice, and his car was much quicker than yours at making the air cool. “Is your car new?”
He glanced at you, leaning back in his seat. “It’s a couple years old, but yeah I bought it new.” He took in how you leaned back, the air making your shirt move in its gusts against your chest, and how your hands weren’t clutching your bag so tight. “Do you make that walk every day?”
You nodded, laughing lightly again. “I already told you-I’m just archives Peña, I don’t get special treatment like you and Steve.” 
Not only did you laugh but he heard how you called Murphy by his first name and it irritated him. Had he really not gotten to know you that much? “You can call me by my first name too, you know.”
You scoffed, shifting in your seat and crossing your arms. “I don’t know you well enough Peña, to be calling you anything besides that.”
He forgot why he was irritated, because how you crossed your arms made your chest look…amazing. He knew he was staring too long, but in a way he wanted you to know that he found you attractive, especially since you and him didn’t seem to get along. Maybe you would be sweeter on him if you knew he found you physically attractive. 
“Eyes up here asshole.” You snapped, rolling your eyes and sitting back straight. “Are you going to drive me to my car or what?”
Well…that didn’t work. “Yeah I’ll drive you over.” He mumbled, wondering how he could get under your skin without starting a screaming match. “You just…that shirt is really nice.” He rolled his eyes at himself-that was lame as hell. 
But he got to hear you laugh again, and while he didn’t understand you, he liked hearing you happy. It made him feel like jell-o on the inside, and it was an ego boost to have you smiling because of him after so long of you not. “I think you were just looking at my tits, Peña.”
That made him choke and cough a little. “You have a mouth on you?” He let out an exasperated laugh, pulling up to your lonesome car and parking beside it so you could get out and slide into your drivers seat. 
“I’m surprised you thought I didn’t.” 
“I wouldn’t mind seeing more of what it could do.”
That was bold. You had never heard him be so bluntly flirty, seeing as any time you over heard him trying to pick up one of the office workers it was much more “want to go to the bathroom with me?” which didn’t sound like an appealing come on. You blinked at him, both of you exchanging looks for what felt like minutes. 
He knew he fucked up. Somehow he let the thought slip out of his mouth and now he was holding his breath for your reaction. He meant to say something stupid to see you laugh again, but instead came out this vulgar come on that wasn’t untrue, but not what he intended. “Um-I’m sorry I didn’t…it just slipped out.”
You glanced back down to his neck, watching his pulse pick up speed and how even with the cold air in his car it was still slick with sweat. He was nervous, and for some reason that was endearing to you. “I can do a few things…with my mouth.”
His eyes widened glancing to your eyes and then your lips and then your chest. Was he asleep at his desk? Did he fall asleep on the drive home? Was he drunk? “Yeah? Like what?” God he was pushing the limits right now. 
And suddenly you reach out and grabbed the back of his head and licked up his neck from his collarbone to his jaw. And the obscene sound that left his mouth spurred you on to do it again but end with biting his ear. 
 Peña was losing his mind. There was no way this was real. He reached out and grabbed the back of your head, pulling on your hair to detach you from his ear. You hissed, pushing back on his hand. “You want this? Here?”
You suddenly knew why the girls swooned for him. When he was in the moment with you, the breathlessness of his words, the timber of his voice made you buzz in his seat. With the cool air still blowing, the sun setting behind the building you both worked in, you nodded your head. “I could use a destress. Is that okay?”
He had to stop himself from exploding on the spot. You wanted to fuck him? Use him as your toy to unwind from the stressfulness of the job? He was on board for that. He pulled away from you, removing his hand from your head, killing the engine and getting out of the car quickly.  He walked around to the passenger side, opening your door and almost pulling you out too hard. “Get in the back seat.”
You felt yourself get wet, hopping into the back seat with his hand on your ass as he followed you in. The idea of fucking Peña had crossed your mind a few times, but you weren’t going to act on them until today when he said those words to you. No one had to know, right?
You flipped around as he grabbed your legs to slot himself between your thighs, pressing his erection to your center and pulling your skirt up. He leaned down to your neck and gave it the same treatment you gave his, biting your jaw at the end. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting you.” He groaned, palming the part of your ass that hung over his seat, kissing at your collar bone like his life depended on it. “What do you want baby? This is your chance to unwind, remember?”
You sighed, eye going skyward as he spoke to you. This is what you wanted after all. He was annoying as hell in the office but right now you needed him. You grabbed his hair and pulling him up to be eye level with you. “Sit up, Peña.”
He scrambled off of you, sitting up and guiding your hips to his and pulling you down so you could feel the friction of his jeans against your center. His hands reached forward to your chest, palming you and untucking your shirt from your skirt. “Fuck-”
The speed at which you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock out was impressive. And what was more impressive was how quickly you sunk down on to him, pulling your panties to the side and letting him fill you to the hilt. He groaned, shocked at how quickly you sat on him, holding still and reaching around to your back to keep you steady. 
His mouth was open, sweat was dripping down his hairline as the back of your shirt was becoming see through with the heat. When he got out of the car and demanding you go to the back he had turned off the engine, and now it was like you were in a sauna. But somehow it made it better, because as you started to move Peña’s eyes closed in bliss. 
You leaned your head back, wrapping your arms around the front seats as leverage as you moved up and down on him.  Peña didn’t know if he wanted to lean back and watch you do the work or if he wanted to lean forward and lick your nipples, pull your hair, maybe thumb your clit. “You’re beautiful like this cariño.”
You moaned, opening your eyes to see him in awe of your body still covered. “We can only do this once, Peña.”
He grabbed your hip, halting your movements as he began to thrust upward and do the work. “Javier is just fine darlin’.” He pistoned into you, suddenly angry at how you wanted to keep this casual. Were you not absolutely infatuated like he was? The minute you let him touch you was like a reset in his brain-there was no way anyone else would fill his needs like you could. And the way you sat on his cock? And how he fit so snugly inside you? He refused to believe you didn’t feel it too. “We can see about this being only once baby-I think you’ll be too cock hungry, huh? Would you want to ride me again?”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes again, knuckles going white as your fingers sunk farther in to the seats. A light whimper escaped you, making Peña’s thrusts falter slightly, but he regained his rhythm and grabbed one of your arms to place your fingers on your clit. The way he spoke to you made you want to say yes, please but you held back. 
“I want you to cum on my cock and show me how much you’re enjoying this like I am. Don’t even fucking lie to me-play with your clit. Show me.” He felt out of control, almost in a completely different body with the way you fit so perfectly around him.
All the breath had left you when he spoke. This was his game. This is what kept women coming back. And there was no way you would be able to resist. 
He saw how much you liked his words, smirking and feeling accomplished. So this is what he needed to do to get you to be nice to him-fuck you into oblivion. “That’s it baby girl, you look so good like this, taking my cock. Does it feel good?” He watched you nod, throwing your head back again as your fingers slowed down. “Don’t stop, I want to feel you. Don’t wait for me honey-that’s so nice of you. This is for you. I want to see it.”
It didn’t take much longer for you to lose yourself, unable to control your moans as you began to release on him. The way you clenched around him was not what he expected, the flutter and the strong squeeze made him release too. He leaned forwarded groaning as he continued, burying his head into your chest. 
He slowed down, hot breath tickling your abdomen and fingers still clutching his front seats. His arms were wrapped around you, palms of his hands searing into your back and sides as he leaned slightly back. He wanted to tell you to come back to his place, that you could take a shower together and maybe you could show him more of your tricks with your mouth. But something sunk in him when he looked up to your eyes and how you were slowly coming out of a horny stupor. “Just sit here for a second, its ok.”
You felt panic rushing to your brain as you lifted yourself off of him quickly, making him hiss and hold on to your hips tighter. “Peña. I-shit, I shouldn’t have-”
“Don’t regret this, I needed this as much as you.” He said softly, desperately. He wanted to convince you to do it again. 
You looked at him and then looked out the windows of his Jeep. No one was around, and it was dark, the only light from the emergency lights surrounding the parking lot. “We can’t do this again, I really need this job-”
“No one will know, hermosa.” He was trying so hard to not be hurt by what you said, but he understood that you and he weren’t friends before this. That you had a job that you were proud of and didn’t want to risk any of it. “If you get back in the office and everyone gives you a hard time then we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to but-” He faltered, chasing your eye line and finally grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. 
You let go of his front seat and sat up straight, hand resting on his arm that was holding your face in place. “I want to.” 
It was like cold water being poured over him when you admitted you would want to still fuck him. “I want you as much as I can have you.” Fuck he felt pathetic, completely at the mercy of you.
“One week and if no one thinks we…if I’m not completely humiliated then maybe we can-”
“You can take your stress out on me any day of the week.” It tumbled out of him, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours for a second. Any part of you he could have he would take. 
You chuckled, sliding off his lap and opening his back door. You stood up, fixing your skirt and turning around to see his cock still out going soft, completely overwhelmed. “I’ll see you next week, Javier.”
He watched you get into your car and start the engine, still not willing to move until he watched you pull away from the parking lot. He fixed his pants, stepped out the same side of the vehicle as you had, and shut the door gently. You called him by his first name and that alone felt like an improvement. Javier didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew that he couldn’t wait for the end of next week when he got to pull you close again, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to resist.
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a messy review of TTPD
okay i need to preface this that i have the credentials to be able to speak my mind on her. i've been a fan since 2006. i've been a fan since i was 11 so don't get your panties in a bunch.
i think this album is messy. the production is the only thing i can really praise about it. the lead up to it and now the full release has just been so unbelievably messy. i'm going to make a continue reading for the people who still have yet to listen where i won't spoil it for you. PS. i do get mean in this. so if you're not wanting to hear critiques and criticism and taking that in, please scroll.
EDIT: this was pre-anthology release. so this is just based on the original 16 song release.
SPOILERS AHEAD
i am fully aware she is allowed to go through the grieving process of her breakup with joe. i respect that whole heartedly. i completely understand having someone in your life for such a big chunk and for them to be gone and feeling lost and alone and angry. what i don't like at all is essentially telling us in this album that she couldn't handle joe having severe depression. obviously i don't know everything that went down but it seems as though he didn't want to get married until he felt mentally better. and as someone who is also in the same boat as him, i also wouldn't want to fully commit to marriage until i felt like i could give them 100%. and if that's his biggest crime, being too depressed, then that's a her problem. being depressed is not all "haha relatable".
now onto... that man... i did not expect 90% of this album to be about him. i've only hated two people in my life. one being a family member of mine. the other, him (i will not be saying his name because he does not deserve it). the way she spent so much of this album talking about how she will defend him with her life. girl i am begging you to get up off the ground. it felt like a backstab from her in "but daddy, i love him" where she's basically saying fuck everyone for ruining a relationship i wanted. the reason no one wanted her with him is because he's a racist, misogynistic, homophobic asshole. i am aware he supports queer rights but it seems like he only cares about queer rights and the safety of queer people when it involves white queer people (ie. what happened in dubai and malaysia). i'm almost confident she cheated on joe with him while her and joe were still together. i'm sorry to taylor that i care about BIPOC and queer people's rights than making a racist white man happy.
joe truly got the short end of the stick here. he has been treated so horribly this past year by swifties who made up rumors about him just to make taylor seem like the good guy and the only thing this album told me was she was the villain in all of this. i hope joe has a good support system around him and i hope he's able to get any mental health help he needs. i do also think that taylor desperately needs a therapist as well. she is very adament about not having one and just using her mom and her friends but she needs an outside source to really listen and give her advice that isn't "yes man"-ing her all day long.
anyways, like i said at the beginning of this post, i enjoyed the production. my favorite songs were fortnight and who's afraid of little old me. it's gonna take time for me to enjoy this album outside of its messiness. i did enjoy midnights btw. so it's definitely not the sound i don't like it's just everything surrounding it.
70/100
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cherllyio · 3 months
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Lego Monkie Kid x Moana AU
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Rewatched Moana and was like: "Man, Maui is kinda like Wukong" and now we have this
Explanation
(i might edit this as i go)
MK(Moana): A strange but hyperactive boy, who dreams about great voyages at sea. The same his hero, Sun Wukong, also went on. From a young age, he has felt connection to the ocean, that can never truly be explained.
Wukong(Maui): "The great demigod equal to the seven seas. He has been on many great voyages, on which he has liftided up the sky, created coconuts among many other things. He once had compainions with him on these journeys, but they are all gone now. He also possesed the abilty to transform, but for some reason, cant anymore... He is currently trapped on an Island, unable to get away. He also hates that he is demigod, and will correct anyone who says he is one.
Pigsy and Tang(Moanas parents): The head chief of the island, and his husband, who despartly tried to get MK to stop waisting his time with The Monkie Kings stories and instead become the head chief of the island. They simply dont want him to be like thoughs monsters, from the Monkie king stories, that they may be related to in some way or the other...
Nuwa(Grandma Tala): She isnt MK's real grandma, but he still calls her it (even though her dads does not like her). She told MK all the great stories of the Monkie King, which started his hyperfixation on Sun Wukong and dreams about fantastic voayges. She did this in the hopes he could do... something with this. Im making her morally grey in this AU, since in canon we dont know Nuwa yet.. She was also the one who gave him, his staff-shaped necklace.
Sandy(The water): He is literally a water demon originally- of course i had to make him the morally support water that helps MK through his journery.
Spider Queen(Tamatoa): A giand spider crab, that loves gold as much as herself. She also seems to have the knowledge of why Wukong cant transform anymore.
The Demon Bull family(The coconut pirates): Yea- they just here for the chaos, the funsies, and being good villians, just like the show. :D
Macaque(Tefiti): Once a mighty warrior, that traveled with the great sage, and had a very close bond with. But now he is an angry and terryfing shadow monster Why has he changed? Well, that is the quiston isnt it?;) (Dont worry i have a good angsty backstory for it)
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fatalheart0 · 9 months
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'Silence' Part 1
Fanfic written for @sleepyconfusedpotato for Jade and Ghost.
Warnings: Angst
Originally, I was going to make this extremely sad by having ghost find out jade was KIA. But I didn't have the heart to do it.
Ignore any grammar mistakes. I'm a bit sleepy, lol.
—---------------
"It's too silent-..."
Ghost quietly sulked behind the back of the pick up truck he and soap just escaped in, from Graves and his men. When the ambush happened Jade, Ghost and Soap were quick to break off to avoid capture, unfortunately Vargas was caught. Throughout the remainder of trying to avoid Shadow company they all continued to have small talk through their coms. I guess you could say it was a way for them to keep their heads on right, especially soap who was injured.
But after a while, Jade had gone silent. Not one word was spoken from her end. Ghost figured she was in a tight spot and had to remain with 0 contact to avoid being spotted, but that was difficult for him. Memories of the small moments they shared rushed into his head and he immediately tried to brush them off. She was a strong woman, she would be okay. Right?
He pondered in silence on whether they should turn back to pick jade up, but that risked getting them both caught and soap needed medical attention.
"Ghost?"
Ghost turns his head to soap who is still standing there clutching his bleeding shoulder. They had made it to a safe house Vargas showed Ghost on a map, one he made sure to keep a mental note of in case anything went to shit. And what do you know? It did. Ghost remains silent and nods, getting off the truck and making his way back inside with Soap following in suit.
Rudy, who had been holed up in the safe house greets them once again to which soap offers a nod.
"Why is it so silent?.."
Is all Ghost can think, the radio silence bugged him. He should have heard from her by now. It shouldn't be this silent- but at the same time it felt so loud. The world around him began to ring in his head, the voices of the past haunting him. Her voice haunting him. He could barely hear the conversation between Rudy and Soap, who was helping him with his fresh wound.
3 hours pass -
It was very visible.
No one could not see it.
The irritability Ghost wore was like this giant cloud of darkness swarming around him. At the first hour mark, they still heard nothing from jade and Ghost had begun to worry. By the 2nd hour Ghost became antsy, the smallest things setting him off to argue with everyone who was now gathered at the safe house. When the 3rd hour hit, Ghost had become unwilling to work with people, even Gaz and Price. He was starting to lose the grip on himself that he worked so hard to build. Why hadn't she called in yet? What is her location? Did her radio break? Is she too far away to use her radio? Is she hurt? What if she's screaming for him right now and he's sitting here doing nothing.
So many questions rushed through his head, how was he supposed to keep himself calm in this storm when she was the very thing that helped him through the rough waves of a vast ocean or the dark abyss from swallowing him whole. She was the very thing he needed all his life, every fear, every doubt, every dark thought that plagued his mind was instantly gone with just her presence alone.
For the very first time Ghost felt weak and helpless. He should be doing something, not just sitting here. Not sitting here. Ghost's eyes lit up for a moment as he quickly made his way outside. Merging with the shadows he effortlessly made his way to a truck without being seen. He takes a deep breath, the engine revs loudly as he turns the key. He speeds off leaving price and the others yelling to become distant background noise until it's gone. He didn't care if he got reprimanded for his actions, the woman he loved- truly loved was out there and needed him.
For hours on end he searched the last place they were at, going through every house and every room checking under staircases, in dumpsters. Anywhere she could've hidden herself from view to stay safe. He felt all hope vanishing as he dropped to the floor. Was this his reality? Did he really have to let go of her and move on? He could feel the tears well up in his eyes and he lowered his head to the ground.
The slight shimmer that bounced off the ground reflecting in the corner of his eyes grasps his attention, saddened eyes slowly drift to the sparkling speckle within the short distance fron him. The longer he stared the more he could make out, he quickly crawled over picking up the item and let out a strained sigh of relief. What had been shining in his eye was the bullet necklace he had given Jade one day off duty. Ghost was silent as tears flowed down his face as he realized through all the bodies he'd seen, not one was hers. Not a single one.
But that left him with one question. Where was she? There was no signs of Graves men having been present in the area, giving Ghost a moment to attempt to call for jade.
"Jade. This is ghost do you read me?"
Static.
And once again silence. He huffs out an annoyed sigh and stands back up looking around taking in his options. He can't give up yet.
"Jade this is ghost do you copy"
His head perked at the slight noise that echoed from a small alleyway. Pressing his radio button he holds it then releases it, and he hears it again. A beeping noise, one that happens when radio signals bounce off each other when they are close. Quickly he dashes around the corner and looks around. Nothing but dumpsters and trash. But there, on top of a few garbage bags slightly covered with trash was a flashing light. It was small but easily visible. Moving the trash away he picks up a entire radio set and ear peice. He reads the number that's used to keep track of the radios on base. Jade's radio number was #12095.
Slowly he read them off before tightly holding the radio, he brings it to his chest. Holding it there, happy knowing there was still a chance she slipped away. Suddenly prices voice comes out into his ear piece.
"Ghost we need you back here at the safe house. We have located jade. We will discuss more when you get here"
'Don't need to tell me twice' ghost thought as he bolts back to the truck speeding back to the safe zone. Once there, he bursts through the front door. "Is she alive?" Was the first thing to leave his lips as he shoulders rise and fall with every deep heavy breath.
"Alive yes, but she's been caught by Graves and his men. She's being held in Vargas' base. The same one Graves took control over." Ghost can feel the blood moving through his body. He clenches his hands, knuckles cracking. "Let's do this.."
Nothing more needed to be said. For the rest of the night, the group planned how to storm the base, where the guards were posted up in towers and the places that could hold prisoners. Nothing was going to stop ghost from reaching Jade. Nothing. Not even the devil himself could stop him from getting to her.
The next morning was miserable without jade there. Even though he knows she's alive, it still doesn't make the empty feeling go away. Throughout the day ghost did nothing but train and check to make sure equipment was clean and operational. Nothing was allowed to go wrong, not on this mission. When night fell, everyone went over the plan once more.
To start was to take out the guards in the towers, climb over the wall, and quietly make their way inside without alerting anyone of their presence. The battle was to be fought when they left with Vargas and Jade, so they weren't moved or killed on sight. Everything was in order, and the 141 set out to get their team back.
—-------
Authors note: if I kept writing, I probably would've filled out tumblrs' word limit, so to keep it safe and in order I will make a part 2.
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fandomhype · 2 months
Text
Plagiarism Somerton
I obviously didn't watch the new James Somerton apology video ON his channel because I did not want to give that man the views and you shouldn't either! It has been re-uploaded and summarised elsewhere so that he doesn't benefit if anyone wants to see it.
The original hbomberguy video was wild to me because of all the stealing, I found it highly entertaining, loved all the Memes and it honestly did my imposter syndrome wonders! but then I watched the Todd in the shadows video and it really upset me.
He didn't just steal from other LGBT creators he lied to his mostly young LGBT audiance who were looking to an elder gay for guidance and to learn about their history.
Todd's video starts with a clip of James lies being spread by another person on a podcast, there's clips of people discussing his made up gay nazi fanfic he has presented as hard facts. He actively harmed his own community for cash! There are young gay men bringing that subject up in conversation being laughed at for falling for it and that leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.
Now I'm not a part of that community but a lot of people I love are so that angered me a lot.
...and then he comes back with another apology video, conveniently within the three months he would have had to post something on his channel to retain his monetisation status weirdly?! In which he blames both a head injury and his ADHD for his theft - at no point does he address the lying in either apology video or any of the apology posts he made that I could find.
I have combined ADHD, when I was first diagnosed the NHS referred to it as ADD with Hyperactivity element but everyone seems to have gone back to calling it ADHD and that is the term used most commonly online so that is what I refer to it is as.
I am medicated but there has been a world wide shortage of my medication and I was without it for some time over winter, which was HELL! I got nothing done.
I am in no way a big creator, Youtube for me is a fun wee hobby that will hopefully grow and allow me to collaborate with other people with similar interests but ADHD is for sure a large part of my journey as a creator.
I've published like 7 videos and currently have around 10 being worked on because, you know... ADHD! *siren noises*
I know that I am forgetful sometimes, just for the record I also had several head injuries and concussions as a child because Lil undiagnosed at the time me truly had no fear of climbing or other dangerous activities so I have my script (because free talking a subject with this brain would be nearly impossible) open in one google doc and my research open in another. It's not hard.
That's the way it was at school, college and Uni too. James claims he went to Uni to do business. Every university uses anti-plagerism software for essays and has done since like the mid 2000's? so he knows not to copy pasta. He's straight up lying there.
Another thing he's lying about is his ADHD making him forget he copied things. Now if you tell me a joke that I like it'll stick in my head and I will straight up tell it as my own later, I've been called out for this many times! But entire articles? whole sections of other peoples videos? (he also flipped a fan Vid he had ripped off of another YouTube to avoid detection and tried to pass it off as his own) No that's not something you can accidentally do even with a swiss cheese brain like mine.
Weirdly all the the paragraphs James claims he accidentally copied were also edited to remove aspects of the Trans, Bi and Ace experiences that James markedly does not believe exist. Strange considering he accidentally copied them and assumed they were his own words? Imagine going back through a paragraph you think you wrote yesterday in the edit the next day and finding swarths of things you don't agree with there?!
Why am I telling you all this? Well because I wanted to put my two cents in as a creator with this condition, partly because I felt it was somewhat of an attack on us!? He's put it out there that ADHD creators are liable to steal from others and that's not ok by me. Also I just really like the sound of my own typing!
TL;DR : James Sommerton is a suck ass liar and he doesn't get to use his disability as an excuse for what he did! and...
****** ADHD DOES NOT MAKE YOU STEAL SHIT!!! ******
Also watch Todd's Vid, everyone saw the Hbomberguy one but this one goes deeper:
youtube
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satans-helper · 7 months
Text
Make It Better
Tumblr media
Pairing: Danny Wagner x Josh Kiszka
Word Count: ~2900
Warnings: slash & smut, people!! Blowjobs! Also some blood (non-sexual). 18+ only~
Inspired by Danny kissing Josh's hand during the Cleveland show (and what a show that was!) and, of course, Halloween. Hope you enjoy ;)
---
“You sure you wanna start carving them now?” Danny asked Josh, who was gleefully cradling two pumpkins in his arms from the porch. Danny was holding the front door open for him, letting the crisp, cold breeze momentarily waft into the house. 
“Jake and Sam can do theirs whenever,” Josh answered. He heard–and felt–Danny following his steps as he went through the hall and into the dining room. With a little huff, he set the pumpkins down on the ratty old tablecloth they’d both laid out for the event. “It’s not our fault they’re stuck on interview duty today.”
“I don’t know,” Danny remarked, leaning against a chair. “Carving pumpkins seems like just as much work. Maybe more.”
Josh looked up with a little smile. “This is supposed to be fun, Daniel. Come on, where’s your Halloween spirit?”
Danny sat down, spinning one of the pumpkins around in front of himself. “Play ‘Monster Mash’ and I’ll get into it.” 
Josh laughed. “Sure, fine by me.” He started to sing the words, mimicking the silly voice of the original song, as he meandered into the kitchen, phone in hand. Soon enough the real thing was playing from a speaker, hopefully truly getting Danny to perk up–whenever Sam was out of the picture even for a little while, it was like a little of Danny’s energy was gone with him. Josh could relate though. Whenever his twin was absent, he felt a little emptiness in the pit of his stomach. But he was happy to have some one-on-one time with Danny. That didn’t happen very often. Not to mention none of them had actually carved pumpkins since they were literal children–this was going to be fun.
“What’s yours going to be?” he asked as Danny sliced the top off his pumpkin, Josh following suit with an enthusiastic sawing motion. Using knives was always a good time as far as he was concerned. 
“I was thinking of trying to make it look like Sam’s drunk face,” Danny told him with a laugh. “But I don’t know if I have the skills. We’ll see.”
Josh laughed too. “That’s a good idea. Maybe I should make my pumpkin look like Jake’s guitar face.” 
“Put these two pumpkins together and it’s basically Jake’s ass,” Danny said, smirking to himself; Josh cackled in return. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Then Danny stood up and leaned over the table, hand disappearing into the pumpkin. “Ugh, this feels disgusting. Why the fuck are we doing this again?”
Josh did the same and, yeah, it was pretty gross. So cold and slimy, the seeds slippery between his fingers. “We’re bonding,” he reminded Danny, who was still so immersed in the pumpkin guts that Josh wasn’t even sure what he’d said had been registered. He and Danny slopped handfuls of pumpkin guts onto a platter together, as in sync as they all were on stage.
“Sam will probably want the seeds,” Danny said, reaching back in as the Ghostbusters theme started playing. 
“Good. Nothing left to waste,” Josh replied, beginning to feel very focused on the task at hand himself. He really was going to try to carve Jake’s guitar face into the pumpkin. “We can compost the rest.”
Danny was even more quiet than usual, he quickly noticed, and Josh didn’t think it was just because they were immersed in jack-o-lantern carving. He wanted to ask about it–was there something bothering him? Was he just really not into this? Josh’s sudden onslaught of anxious thoughts broke his concentration and as he was bringing the knife down in a steep curve, it slipped and, in the blink of an eye, bright red blood was shining on the blade, down his hand and across the orange pumpkin. 
“Oh shit!” Danny jumped to action, wiping his hands on a towel as he rushed over to Josh, who was so stunned by his mishap that he was just staring at the shockingly grisly wound. “Wait a minute,” Danny instructed, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment. When he returned, he was standing over Josh and wrapping his hand in a clean towel. 
“Oops,” Josh said, then hissed, suddenly conscious of the deep sting from the cut. “Ouch!” What a stupid thing to do, he thought, because not only did he ruin his hand, he ruined the pumpkin.
“Jeez, Josh, this looks bad,” Danny said, holding the dish towel around Josh’s bleeding hand snugly. “Do you think you need stitches?”
Josh waved that idea away with his uninjured hand. “No, no, I’m sure it’s fine. Let me see.”
Danny sighed. “Let’s go to the bathroom. We need to clean this.” 
So Josh let his friend take the lead. He sat down on the edge of the tub while Danny grabbed yet another towel, one of the black ones with little ghosts threaded in white that he and Jake had picked out just for this season, and wet it in the sink. Danny dropped to his knees in front of him and carefully unraveled the bloody towel from his hand, winching even more than Josh did as it happened. 
“See,” Josh began when his wound was revealed–a deep, long slash down the side of his hand, extending from the bottom of his thumb to just above his wrist. “I don’t need stitches.” 
“Okay, maybe not, but this looks bad,” Danny said softly. Josh was enamored with how tender he was. Maybe in another life, Danny would have been a doctor. Josh could see that. He sighed again, dabbing with the warm, wet towel. “Do you have any hydrogen peroxide here?” 
Josh tensed. “That’ll make it hurt more.”
“Just for a second. It’ll disinfect it,” Danny assured him, then took Josh’s other hand and pressed it over the towel. “Hold that.” He swiveled on his knees to open the cabinet beneath the sink–if nothing else, this allowed Josh a nice view of Danny bent over on his knees, ass in the air while he did his best to rescue Josh from a nasty infection. “Got it,” Danny proclaimed, shuffling back with a brown bottle in one hand and a bag of cotton balls in the other. He sat there frowning for a moment before saying, “We need bandages, too. Not the small ones. I gotta wrap it in something.”
“Maybe in the drawer?” Josh suggested, realizing he knew very little about the contents of his own bathroom. 
“Aha,” Danny said victoriously, tossing the roll of gauze at Josh’s feet. He sat right in front of him, opening the hydrogen peroxide and wetting a cotton ball with it. When he looked up, Josh’s heart fluttered at how genuinely apologetic and hurt Danny looked on his behalf. “Alright, yeah, it’s gonna sting. But it’s gonna help.” He took the wet towel away from Josh’s hand and held that bloody hand in his own. “Okay?”
Josh nodded. Danny doing this made it seem less daunting–he didn’t consider himself very afraid of anything, but physical pain was something he, like most people, always wanted to avoid. Causing himself further pain wasn’t something he was ever inclined to do. But Danny was gentle and reassuring, rubbing Josh’s wrist with his thumb as he dabbed the cut with the hydrogen peroxide, and just that small, simple, sweet action diminished some of the angry stinging that came with it. Then, with a dry part of the ghost towel, Danny dabbed some more until Josh’s hand felt dry again. Next came the gauze, which he wrapped carefully and skillfully around the wound, leaving Josh patched up as best either of them could do. Well, Josh thought, he actually didn’t do anything but sit there. 
“Better?” Danny asked, sitting back, resting his hands on Josh’s knees.
Josh thought about that question for a moment. Then he lifted his bandaged hand up to Danny’s face: “A kiss would make it better.” He was confident Danny would do it, and he did, but the way it happened made Josh’s breath catch in his lungs. Danny gingerly held his wrist, held it so delicately like he was made of glass, and the press of his lips was just as gentle and soft but so full of intent. It wasn’t a quick, silly gag to appease Josh. It was an earnest, lingering, passionate little kiss, and Josh felt faint for a moment.
“Now are you better?” Danny asked, still holding Josh’s hand.
“Yes, thank you, Danny,” Josh said, cheeks burning. He was also sure he now looked very flustered and he felt even more out of sorts when Danny straightened up, moving in close, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. 
“You scared me. Maybe you shouldn’t be around knives,” Danny told him, who was still too flabbergasted to laugh at the absurdity of that. Instead, Josh tried something he’d never done before, something that did actually scare him–he brought his good hand to the side of Danny’s face and leaned forward to kiss him right on the lips. Thankfully, Danny reciprocated, humming softly into the kiss and moving in even closer, their chests touching. 
Josh was the one to pull away, giggling with nervous energy. Maybe an excuse wasn’t necessary–in fact, he was still positive it wasn’t–but he said, “I don’t think my insurance covers this, so will that help?”
Danny smiled, his own face a little flushed. “I always wanna kiss you regardless of personal injuries.”
“Really?” Josh squeaked. Was that why he’d been so quiet earlier? Did Danny think about him like that when they were alone?
“Sure do.” In a feat of strength that baffled Josh, Danny began to get up, scooping him into his arms and carrying him out of the bathroom. Josh hooked one arm around Danny’s shoulders on the journey, heart pounding at this revelation. What exactly was happening here? Then Danny set him down on the couch and placed a bag of the candy they’d been sharing earlier in his lap. He sat down next to him, staying close and, with a gesture at the bag, said, “Doctor’s orders.” 
“Whatever you say, Dr. Danny,” Josh replied, popping a Dum Dum in his mouth, though he really wanted to do something else with his mouth. He paused when Danny cuddled up against him, pulling Josh’s legs over his own and looping his arm around his waist. 
“Wanna watch a scary movie?” Danny proposed, but the look in his eyes was saying something else. Josh was sure of it. 
“No, what the fuck!” Josh exclaimed, riled up and excited now that he knew Danny was so agreeable to him. He grabbed Danny’s shirt, drawing him further in, as he tossed the bag of candy to the floor with his other hand. “For fuck’s sake–I wanna make out with you.”
Another smile, but then Danny grabbed Josh’s wrist and slowly brought his bandaged hand down. “Just be careful of that,” he said, and Josh was about to protest, but then Danny was taking the sucker from Josh’s mouth and replacing it with his lips, then a little tongue, then a little teeth. 
Josh had thought about what it would be like to kiss Danny before. He was convinced there weren’t many people who encountered his beloved drummer that hadn’t. But actually doing it exceeded all of those brief fantasies–Danny was simply a good kisser. A great kisser, with a perfect mixture of tenderness and lust, matching Josh’s pace when it was easy and slowing him down when Josh got too hard and fast with it. Josh followed the doctor’s orders and was mindful of his hand, keeping it at his side and using the other to touch all over Danny’s upper body, feeling the heat and muscle beneath the pesky t-shirt while Danny’s own explored Josh’s body in tandem.
When Danny’s hand found his bulge, his cock growing harder with each kiss, a quiet moan slipped from Josh’s lips and over Danny’s. Danny moved back just enough to look down at his own hand cupping Josh’s dick through his pants, fingers gripping his length despite the barrier. Josh looked down too, already breathing hard, and wiggled his hips in encouragement. 
Meeting his gaze, Danny asked, “Can I go down on you?”
“What?” Josh asked, flabbergasted once more. They’d gone from carving pumpkins to sucking dick, apparently. What a world. 
Danny kissed him again before he asked, using the same explicit words Josh had been thinking, “Can I suck your dick?”
After he gave the green light, Josh learned that Danny was not only a good kisser but really good at giving head–a delightful, surreal surprise. Bare from the waist down, he squirmed and whimpered while Danny’s lips wrapped around his cock and his hands squeezed his thighs, spreading his legs wide enough to sink between. He made sure to keep his injured hand resting over his head, but his other was going wild in Danny’s hair, fingers tangling in the curls, brushing over his scalp, urging him to keep doing his magic. 
“Oh wow,” Josh said, eyes widening at the sight of Danny fumbling with his own fly to get his dick out. Josh almost asked to touch it himself, but Danny swallowed hard around him and he forgot that words existed at all. Danny was rocking his hips back and forth while he licked and sucked and jerked him off; Josh lifted his leg up higher to press it between Danny’s own, and then Danny dropped his hand to quite literally begin humping Josh’s leg. 
Wet sounds emanated from Danny’s hand while he stroked him, popping off to breathe. “Shit,” he muttered, resting his cheek on Josh’s stomach. “I thought about this, too.”
Josh gasped, astounded by these dreamy confessions. His hips bucked; he pushed his leg up harder against Danny’s cock. “More, Danny, please,” he pleaded, fitfully fussing with Danny’s hair again. “Suck me off. Let me come in your mouth.”
With brightly flushed cheeks, Danny took another breath and carried on, the hand on Josh’s belly pressing down hard as he sank down. Josh groaned loudly, eyes closed while his head tilted back against the arm of the couch, so close. When his hips bucked again, Danny gagged, Josh yelped and his fingers tightened in those curls as he shot right into the back of Danny’s throat. It left him exhausted but still determined, and Danny hadn’t come yet–before he lost any more energy, he pulled Danny, who was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, up by his shirt. 
“Whoa there!” Danny wiggled as Josh yanked him to his knees beside his own face. It was a bit of a tough angle, Josh had to admit, but he just grabbed Danny’s ass to pull him forward while he wrapped his lips around him. Eyes closed while he centered his focus, Josh then felt Danny’s gentle touch on his wounded hand, bringing it down. “Careful,” his drummer warned, the word soft but the voice delivering it rough. 
Josh nodded, which made the head of Danny’s cock jump to the back of his throat. Stifling his own gag by squeezing Danny’s ass harder, Josh made good use of his mouth, trying to get Danny down as much as he could while those lovely, strong, kind hands messed around with his now equally disheveled curls. 
“Fuck yeah, that feels good,” Danny said breathlessly, ending the sentence with a surprising whine, which made Josh look up. Danny looked down at him and his lips parted like he was surprised, eyes growing bigger and brighter while he stared into Josh’s. “Oh my god, yeah, keep looking at me. So pretty, Josh, holy fuck–” If Danny was going to say anything else, it was lost in a strangled moan as he threw his head back, and Josh grunted with useless surprise as slick warmth coated his tongue.
After a few seconds, Josh freed him, flopping back onto the couch. “Woof.”
Danny did the same, lying halfway on top of the back of the couch, his lower body pressed against Josh’s. “Hell yeah, woof. Wow.” He closed his eyes and sank down further, resting his head on Josh’s stomach with apparently no intention of moving despite Josh’s dick still being out. Oh well, Josh decided, and started to idly play with Danny’s hair. 
He was snapped out of his beautiful daze when he looked over at the clock on the wall. “What time are Jake and Sam supposed to be back?”
“I don’t remember,” Danny said, sounding like he was on his way to unconsciousness. 
“We should finish the pumpkins,” Josh said, very glad they decided to do this. If he hadn’t cut his hand trying to carve his own twin into one, would Danny have ever made a move?
“You can’t, Josh. Your hand,” Danny reminded him.
Josh huffed. “I can do it. I’ll be careful.” He tapped Danny’s temple and added, “Maybe you could help me?”
“Alright, I’ll help,” Danny said, lifting himself up. Before Josh had the chance to outwardly question where all of this was going in a larger sense, Danny captured him in another hot, heartwarming kiss. 
Josh giggled when Danny broke away and just looked at him. “So–should we keep this to ourselves? It might be too scary to share with Jake and Sam.”
Danny stood and extended a hand to help Josh up before he got his jeans back up. “Nah,” he said, smirking, which made Josh smile even wider. “Let’s tell ‘em. I think they can handle it.” 
---
Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @clairesjointshurt @starbuggie @bizzielisteningtogreta
If you want to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me <3
You can also find my fics on AO3 (theLazarus) or wattpad (BananaJubilee)
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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year
Note
WAIT WAIT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ANOTHE MXM IDEA
IMAGINE LIKE THE READER REUNITING WITH HIS MATE AFTER A LONGER TIME PERIOD FOR LIKE WTV ANGSTY REASON (broooo imagine the reader had gone thru smth traumatising like torture or some shit 😭😭) NAHHHH I MIGHT SPAM YOUR INBOX FR TONIGHT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ALL LEVELS FROM ANGST TO NSFW LETSGOOOOO
Returned At Last Part 1
Pairing: Wolf x Reader
Word Count: 4506
Summary: All it was suppose to be a simple trip to earth. Wolf has a job to do. You're okay with that. You stay on the ship where it is safe. No one can hurt you from there. Wolf will come back and the two of you will leave. Don't let your guard down.
Author Note: Soooo I may or not have gone a little overboard with this. That's why it took a hot minute to get it out for you. Hopefully the length of it will be enough of an apology. But also, fucking love this, part of the reason why it's so fucking long.
I promise to all those who have asked me something, I am working on them. I just got side tracked with a few other writing prompts and drawing COD men.
Masterlist
Ao3
Part 2
Traveling out in space wasn’t all it was showed in shows. Getting stranded rarely happened; aliens boarding the ship to take over has never happened; stress and anxiety running high was also a nope. Everything was chill. It was just you and Wolf, flying through space as he hunted down Xenomorphs. When he gets off his ship to do his thing, you happily stay back, safe. He keeps you content with books, games, and other supplies his bought.
Yet, everything wasn’t chill today. Not everything goes perfectly. You weren’t safe.
It all started with a distress beacon coming from earth, funny enough. When Wolf told you about this, you jumped at the call. He, of course, couldn’t say no to the ancients telling him to respond. So, the two of you went through the void of space back to earth. You were more than happy to return after some time away. You couldn’t go visit family, since they believed you to be dead. Wolf had ordered you to stay on the ship. Why? You didn’t know.
This was your home planet after all. You knew about all the dangers, nothing could truly hurt you hidden out in the middle of nowhere. From what you could remember, Wolf placed the ship to be far from the origin. He said something about a gut feeling. Eh, you didn’t pay attention to him as he grumbled and gather his gear.
The two of you said your goodbyes to each other. Wolf went down the ramp, mask on, just like all the other times he has. You waved at him as the ramp started to close, locking you inside. It’s not like he has you trapped in here. You knew the code to leave if need be. He wouldn’t do that to you. There’s always a possibility that you needed to escape. One you didn’t believe in but let him have his way. If that made him content and knew you were safe, that’s all that matter to you as well.
When time passed at an unknown amount of time, just like any other time, you took roost in Wolf’s pilot chair. An action that didn’t save you. A book in hand, eyes scanning over the pages. One of the songs you liked hummed softly through the quiet air. Not a care or worry in the world. Nothing could hurt you while on your planet. That you believed in.
Something felt off. Your eyes lifted off of the page and snapped over to your water cup on the arm rest. The liquid inside was vibrating. Next, you peered over to the engine controls, thinking they somehow activated. Nothing. They were dormmate. That’s when you felt the pilot chair slightly tremble constantly underneath you. Huh?
You shifted to sit normally, gaze settling on the empty plains that sat out in front of the ship. Void of life and beings. If this was California, this could possibly be an earth quake? But you were unsure. You’ve never lived there. You didn’t know. That was the problem at hand.
Unable to relax or return to the book, you kept a flickering gaze on the scene before you. It was just you, the ship, and yellow sagebrush fields. The water kept rippling in its cup. It confused you on what could be causing that. An earthquake wouldn’t last this long. How right you were.
An idea came to mind. Wolf has taught you a few things about his ship, the basics in case of an emergency. You pressed a button on the console. A map of the scanned area appeared, like an aerial view of the plains.
Off to the ships, seven o’clock position was a small group of moving black dots. They were coming towards you. Oh shit! People. Not good. At all. They were heading towards the ship, towards you. Your quick fingers found the comm. Button close by and pressed it. Wolf kept his emergency comm. channel linked to the ship open at all time. For a situation that called for this.
“Wolf? There’s cars heading towards the ship. What should I do?” you questioned, eyes flickering back and forth the map. There’s been only two times you’ve flown the ship. Both opportunities have ended almost ended in a fiery explosion. You didn’t believe you could fly it again. Those chances were without stress. You weren’t worried there were people coming towards your camouflaged ship.
That thought made you paused. The shields were up… The camouflage was activated. How could they know where to drive? It wasn’t luck or chance they were heading in the right direction in the middle of nowhere. Wolf parked his vessel in the middle of nowhere. They shouldn’t know where to go unless…
Wolf hadn’t answered yet. “Wolf? Please, I don’t know what to do. I can’t fly this thing, you know that.” Silence from his end. You could almost groan at that. “Answer me! I need your help, Wolf!” you yelled as if that’ll help him hear you. Why wasn’t he answering? Fear gripped your heart in its deadly claws. Said organ thumping against its bony cage.
Your hands grasped the edge of the ship’s console, knuckles turning white. The vehicles continuously grew closer and closer and closer. Wolf didn’t respond. Had these people already got him? You blew that thought off though. This is Wolf you’re talking about. He took on a hybrid Xenomorph and Yautja. Probably one of the most deadly aliens out there known to existence. Best of all, the head is hung on his trophy wall.
Where are you, Wolf? Your head hung low. Solutions were running rampant in your mind. What to do? What to do? What could you do? Well, for starters, the ship. Its shields were strong, able to resist most blasts from enemy ships. So, these humans would struggle to break in. Yet, that didn’t quell your racing heart.
On the other hand, what couldn’t you do? Fly the damn thing. Wolf hasn’t taught you how to use the weapon system. Something about ‘oomans’ and killing themselves in stupid ways. In his own way, that’s him saying he loves you. You were fucked. You couldn’t escape with the ship. You couldn’t use the two massive guns attached to the belly. All you were a sitting duck for these humans to find and do whatever they want.
To be honest, you could hide. The ship offered many places for you squeeze yourself in. All you had to do was keep quiet and pray to Wolf’s god to keep you safe.
Contrary to belief, you would think living and being mates with a hunter/warrior race would automatically give you the knowledge to fight. Yeah, Wolf’s taught you a few things… it wasn’t going to be enough against the at least nine drivers of the vehicles.
With one last drop of hope, you pressed the comm. button once more. “They’re getting closer, Wolf. Please, I need you. I can’t fight them alone.” You held your breath, ears listening for anything that could signal he heard you.
Nothing. The last bit of hope in your heart was squeezed out. All you had was yourself now. He wasn’t responding which worried you. First, you had to ensure they didn’t get you. So when they leave, you could go find him; against his command before he left. Wolf always told you to stay on the ship. That’s where it was safer for you. He didn’t have to fret if you got yourself in trouble. You listened to him, knowing it was better to do so.
One last look at the map -the black dots less than a hundred yards away, you started to think on where to hide. Someplace they wouldn’t look for someone, if they were looking for you. That likelihood was extremely low. How would anyone know you’re with Wolf? You’re a random person who went missing.
On Wolfs ship, there are five rooms, not including the cockpit. Its not really a room, but oh well. First to come to mind was the kitchenette. That was quickly marked off the list. There was the cabinets to possible squeeze yourself in. You would have to displace some cooking wear. Anyone with a brain will be able to tell something was wrong in there.
Second on the list was the trophy room. Another place marked off. Unlike the kitchenette, it had no true places to hide away in. Only a few small drawers in Wolf’s desk he uses for his tools.
Next, the bedroom. The bed was large with a lot of blankets, courtesy to Wolf and his ability to hunt. Yet, to smother yourself underneath them all… you didn’t know how long they would the on the ship. You could slowly overheat and die or suffocate and die. Both options weren’t fun sounding. You crossed that one off as well.
At this point, you were running out time and rooms. The hull wasn’t going to offer you much either. It had boxes and crates expertly stacked. They were strapped down, filled with whatever Wolf like’s to haul through space. Again, taking the stuff out to hide inside of the crates would be stupid. These people will notice the items and think ‘let’s check these boxes’.
Last on the list was the sparring room. This was your best choice out of all the places this ship has. It had a couple cubby’s for weapons that were currently empty. Said weapons were out on their respected racks for Wolf to train with. You hoped he was okay. That it was just a fluke on him not answering the comm.
Since the sparring room offered the highest chance of survival, you hopped down from the chair. Three steps from the cockpit’s door, you heard the computer alert to a proximity breach. Shit, they were already outside the ship. Now wasn’t the time to screw around.
Quick, unsteady legs carried you to the second closest door to the right from the cockpit. It opened at your closeness. You skidded to a halt. The doors. They would open for them, besides the outside one. Another way Wolf tells you to say inside, where it was safe. It wasn’t going to be safe for much longer.
Your eyes flickered to the other doors. Terror gripped your heart. If you were to lock only one door, it would announce to the people outside that there was something important in there. Why else would it be lock while the others weren’t? Now, you only had two options: lock all the doors, loosing precious time or leave all the doors, lowering your chances for survival. The former would take time to do, time you don’t know if you had. The latter would offer more time to hide.
It's like you could hear Wolf whisper in your ear: give yourself a fighting chance. The second option was you rolling over and giving yourself to the group of people outside. One you didn’t want to do. Wolf would be so disappointed if he ever found out. Instead, you took the training he’s instilled into you to heart and changed tactics.
Let’s play a little Home Alone.
The kitchenette’s door opened at your proximity with a whoosh. The sight before you offered the same result to hiding, nowhere to truly squeeze yourself into. Your hand slapped against the touchpad next to the entrance of said room. Its metal door slid close at the command. You heard the tall tell sign of the lock clicking into place. One do-
An explosion rocked you off your feet, side slamming into the warm, metal ground. You hissed out in pain and sat up, hand rubbing at the aching area. Your vision swam for a moment, making you shake your head to clear it. What in the world was that?!
Then it hit you. The humans. What were they doing? A grunt escaped you as you returned to your feet, unsteady. By the sounds of it, they hadn’t breached the door yet. That left you with extra time to lock the rest and go into hiding.
With a newfound courage and energy, you raced against a fatal clock towards the next door. It was across the wide hallway, with a concave floor in the middle. Like a small common area for Yautjas to relax while traveling through space. You reached the trophy room gateway and did the same action as before. It locked before you. Another down. Just a couple more…
After quickly finishing with the third door – the bedroom, you sprinted towards the second to last one: the hull. If you got this locked, it would take them even longer to get into here. The main entrance was in there, sealing this do-
Before you could take a third step, a blast forced the ship to pitch. It threw you completely off balance, back bouncing off of the nearest wall. Then, you crashed back onto your formerly injured side. “Wolf!” You cried out, writhing for a long moment on the ground. That was going to heavily bruise later. That you could promise.
Voices. You paused, stilling completely, down your breath. Voices down below. You gasped, eyes wide and scrambled back to your unsteady feet. That door needed to be locked, no matter what now. Injured or not. That was your last of defense before they stormed the upper levels, where you were.
Now, with that on your mind, you uncoordinatedly ran towards the hull’s door. It opened, just like any of the others at your presences. An array of curse words pouring inside of your mind at this. Those former voice grew louder, their boots pounding against the metal floor. The next second, you hit the touchpad far harder than you meant to. The entrance before you closed on your command, sealing the second to last door to you.
As much as you wished to take a second to breathe, you jogged over to the last door. “Get this door open!” someone shouted from the other side when you weren’t even two steps away from it. Already?! How quick were these guys?
When you stepped into the room, about to spin around to close it off, another explosion had you stumbling out of it. Before you know it, you were on the cockpits floor.
Through the pain and splitting headache, you staggered over to the panel. On the other side of the room, smoke encased the hull’s door. A flash of red dots could seen marking the smoke. Guns. They had guns. You don’t know why you thought that be news. If these guys know what they’re doing on a Yautja’s ship, of course they would have weapon. Fear still slapped you in the face. You weren’t your boyfriend. He could survive many shots from a gun. You couldn’t.
Your hand slapped against the touchpad, sealing you from them. For the time being. With how quick they were able to knock down the hull’s door… you didn’t have hope they wouldn’t be able to do the same to the others. You turned around though, eyes scanning over the limited area in here. One entrance, one exit. You stuck in here.
An idea came to mind. A while back, Wolf had to do some work on the navigation after a run in with a large beast on a random planet. He took you under his wing and had you sit next to him as he worked. He didn’t talk and just showed you what he did. It’s not like you could ever do it yourself without his help. You didn’t dare touch any of the important ship’s wiring, in case you screwed something up. He knew what he was doing. You’ll happily sit there, twiddling your thumbs while observing.
The spot you were thinking of was underneath the control console. It offered a hidden spot off to the side, away from sight. You could possibly squeeze yourself behind the panel. The area there was small and tight, even for a human. It would luck to be able to fully close it. Yet, it was better than just standing he-
“Find that pet of his!” The earth stopped spinning; your thoughts came to a screeching halt. What?! They know of you. It had to be you they were talking about. Why are they coming for you? How do they even know?! Your heart felt like it dropped six feet underground. You stumbled backwards, back against the closed door, hand on your sternum. They were looking for you. They have guns. You were going to die. They were going to kill you. Why? Why?! Your brain screamed at you. Tears started to dribbled down your cheeks as all you could was lean heavily against the door. They were going to kill you.
The only thing stopping you from accidentally announcing where you were was the hand over your mouth. It held in the sobs, the cries, the whimpers. What you couldn’t hold back was the tears staining your face.
Wolf was going to come back from his hunt to find you dead, your brain splattering his ship’s cockpit. Why didn’t he answer? Where was he? Why did he leave? He should’ve never come back here. Earth was bad. It held bad memories. It’s going to hold more. You dead. He’s going to go after them but it won’t bring you back. You’re going to die. They’re going to kill you.
One last sporadic drop of hope entered your heart. It might been the adrenaline racing the organ to feel that way or the terror that squeezed it. You’ll never know. You sprinted towards the control console, seeing the comm. channel light still on. “Wolf, please, I need you!” you whimpered, hands grasping the metal so tightly your knuckles turned ghost white. “They’re here. They’re on the ship. They have guns. They know I’m here. They’re looking for me.”
The longer you talked, the more it seemed you were going down a spiral. Big, fat, globs of tears splattered against the console. You sobbed, no longer caring how quiet you were. “They’re going to kill me, Wolf. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I need you, please!” you cried to him and fell to your knees. your head bowed, forehead touching the edge of the dashboard.
Your shoulders shook, sobs leaving your mouth freely. They had to have heard you at this point but you didn’t care now. All you wanted was Wolf to be here. Here with his arms around your body and protect you from the calling of death. “I don’t want to die,” you whimpered, eyes blurry with tears. “They’re going to kill me.” You were too caught up to hide. It was too late.
One last blast knocked down your last line of defense. You stood up and spun around at the same time, back leaning heavily on dashboard. Smoke clouded the most likely demolished doorway now. You held your breath, waiting for a bullet to pierce the unknown and strike you.
Instead, it was them that breached the heavy smoke. When their gazes immediately landed on you, all of their weapons faced you. “Hands up!” one shouted and used the barrel of his gun to motioned for you to put them up. Terror washed over your face at the sight. It froze you in the very spot you stood in.
“No, no, no, no,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf. This is where you die. Wolf was somewhere far away, not answering the call. He’s going to come back to you dead. On the cockpit’s floor of his ship, cold and lifeless.
“Get the fuck on the ground, fucker!” another demanded of you. Move, your brain screamed at you. Move! Do something. Anything. Just move!
You fell to your knees, hands gripped in front of in a plea. “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me,” you begged of them. Out of the seven of them, you saw the closest one’s eyes crinkle. He was smirking. He stepped towards you, staying a decent distance away. His gun continuously pointed at your head, finger on the trigger. Your body shook, eyes wide as you watched him, unable to move.
Said man chuckled, shoulders shaking with the action. “I won’t if you listen to us very carefully. None of us are afraid to pull the trigger and end you. Leave you here, deader than a doorknob,” he snarked and motioned with his gun for you to get on the ground. “Now, face down, hands behind your back.”
It struck you. They weren’t going to kill you. They were going to take you. You didn’t know what was worse. Being captured or head blown to pieces right here. Captured means they’re probably going to torture you. They’re going to ask about Wolf and when you don’t give in, they’re going to hurt you. You weren’t prepared for that.
“No!” you shouted at him, teeth gritting against one another. A slow, molasses of courage starting to seep into your veins. Wolf would want you to fight. You were going to fight. You weren’t going to let them capture you. You weren’t going to give up Wolf.
A chorus of laughter erupted from the group. The closest barked his laugh before marching up to you and shoving the barrel of the gun into your head. From the headache and bruising side, you hissed. “It think’s he has a choice, boys. What do you say? Show it how wrong it is?” he questioned his fellow patriots and kept the barrel of the gun pressed into your head. You refused to go down so easily.
Similar to yourself, you know where to hurt a man. Your fist curled into a shaky fist as your head turned to stared him in the eye. A newfound fire flickering to life within your eyes.
It was like he read your mind. The bottom of his combat boots met your uninjured side and sent you sprawling across the floor. You cursed as pain flooded your left side.
Before you could get back up, a knee knocked the air out of your lungs and stayed glued to your back. The barrel was returned to the side of your head. “See? Wasn’t that easy to just listen. You must do it for your owner all the time.” Owner? Who is he talking about?
“Get off of me!” you yelled at him and squirmed, doing everything in your power to get back up. The clicking of a gun cocking stopped you in your tracks. “If you kill me, there won’t be anywhere on this planet you can hide. He will kill you.”
“Your owner won’t do anything. You’re just his pet, a plaything to him. He’ll leave you to rot in the cell we put you in.” That former fear began to creep back inside of your heart. Wolf wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave you behind.
“You’re an ass,” you growled at him. That only earned you a chuckle from him and the others around. It was weak, nothing more than a mosquito flying around. Said man shoved his knee further into your back, forcing you to cry out. “Get off of me, you cunt!”
“Ohhh, the pet has a mouth of it. I thought that alien would’ve made you learn by now,” the leader – as you’ve named him, taunted before whacking you with the butt of his gun. You gasped, vision blurring for a moment. “Got nothing to say now?” You stayed quiet, not wanting to get hit again. “Look, boys. We did a better job than that alien.”
The others laughed with him. Humiliation flooded your veins. You had no choice but to listen now. They had made it clear they were willing to hurt you to get their way. “Alright, boys, get this thing cuffed and head out. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to be.”
That last sentence peaked your interest. They were scared of Wolf. Well, of course, who wouldn’t be? He’s a highly, well trained hunter with hundreds of years of experience underneath his belt. The first time you saw him, you were terrified of him. It’s a natural reaction to him.
Cuffed? They were going to take you. Capture you. Possibly torture you for information about Wolf. Information you’re not willing to give up so easily. Yet, you’re not trained. “No!” you snapped and struggled underneath him. You weren’t going to be taken! You didn’t want to be.
“Oh shut up, pet. I’ve had my fun and you’ve had your moment. We’re leaving with you alive or dead. Doesn’t matter to us. We get paid all the same.” One of the other soldiers entered your personal space and handed the leader a pair cuffs. The latter gave a gruff thanks. He hooked his weapon with a strap across his back. With the newly acquired cuffs, he snatched both of your hands and twisted them behind your back.
Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. Terror entered your veins as the first biting, cold cuff encircled your wrist. “Wolf!” you cried out, voice wavering with that one word. “Please Wolf. They’re going to take me.” You knew he couldn’t hear your pleas. You knew he hadn’t answered your calls. He somewhere far away, hopefully okay. It matter to you that you tried.
Where was he? You wanted him here, with his arms around you, protecting you. You didn’t care if he killed them and embraced you the moment after. You wouldn’t care about the stench or sight. You wanted Wolf right now.
The knuckles of a furled fist connected with the side of your head. You groaned. “Shut up, before you blow your brains out right here.” Before you had a chance, the same cold, bitter feeling of the second cuff encased your other wrist. They had you cuffed and ready to be taken. Why didn’t you just hide? Why were you so stupid sometimes in the face of danger? Why wasn’t Wolf here?
With the help of the second closest soldier – the one that handed the leader a pair of cuffs, they both easily lifted you off of the floor. Each had an arm under your pits and dragged you from the cockpit. The fight inside of you was gone before it had time to bloom.  You were captured, injured and crying silently. Tears stained your cheeks, falling to the warm metal floors.
Unbeknownst to you, Wolf heard every word, every cry for help. He heard your pleads for him as he raced back, full speed ahead. His older body aching more than ever to reach you in time. He heard the nasty name they called you. Those pyode-amedha were going to pay for laying a hand on you.
Wolf skidded to a stop in the cockpit. Your pungent odor of fear assaulted him. It was too late. The walls shook with a mighty, deafening roar.
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quinloki · 2 months
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Hiiiii again had to tell you that i can't take the suspense for yandere Marco 😅 out of my mind hahaha
Alright \o/ Yandere Marco thoughts! I can't apologize for the delay it was most assuredly needed, but I appreciate the patience <3
Let's dive in -
expectedly - CW: Yandere, description of violence
Yandere Marco is subtle. Like his own controlled expressions, no one would suspect what lies existed beneath it all.
The only one who knows is you, and even then it's only because he didn't have time to be subtle with you. The Moby doesn't stay in port for long, and he only had a few days to court you instead of a few months.
In a modern AU, you'd fall into his web so neatly you'd simply never know. You'd never hear the concerned voices of friends who faded away slowly over the years. You'd never see the corpses of those who didn't back off. You'd never suspect the trackers worked into your shoes and clothes, in case you lost your phone.
In a modern AU you'd be wined and dined and intoxicated on the subtle smile and passionate eyes burning into your soul. Delirious on the sweet scent of someone who seems unconcerned about anything else, so long as your thoughts turn to him, your hands tangle with his, and your lips are solely for him.
But in the original universe, you know.
The fire that heals his wounds without leaving a mark are probably the last time you try to push him away. He'd been nice the first couple of days, you'd been interested, but the pirate would leave, so you assumed, until he told you how you were going to come with him.
No plea for you to do so, just a simple statement.
He went from suave and handsome, to twisted and terrifying.
Your disagreement had gone from verbal to physical quickly, though you had been the first to lash out. He'd taken everything you'd thrown at him, and as your own strength waned, your attack at become more desperate. The lumber axe you used to prep for winter had been sheer desperation, and you hadn't expected it to connect.
He accepted the blow, and you even heard bone crunch from the heavy swing, but that unbothered expression didn't change. If anything it softened as he pulled the axe away gently and strange teal and gold flames undid the damage. The only detail that remained was blood stained into his shirt around the tear from the axe.
The understanding that sinks into you is deeper than the axe into his body.
and you know, you already knew at that point how revered he was, how, as the Division 1 commander of the famous Whitebeard pirates, he was akin to a noble compared to you. The sweet smile on his lips as he sushes you softly, the compassion in his voice as he soothes your rising fears, wiping away the silent tears streaking down your face and you come to understand it all.
And so you accept it, and him, and you go along peacefully. There's no other choice truly, and he goes out of his way to appease you, to avoid harming you. The few times his grip gets rough he clears the offending mark from your skin.
That's another moment when you really understand it all.
Eventually the ship gets a new crew member. A wild young man full of fire - literally. It's the first time in years since Marco's attention isn't 100% on you. You can see a similar inevitable fate closing around him, as he throws all he has into trying to bring down Pops, but you know this crew. The young man couldn't bring down any of the commanders on his own, never mind Pops.
There is one thing though, with the addition of him and his crew, there are now people on the ship who won't automatically tell Marco anything and everything you say to them. You know from the others it's not malice, but care and concern that spurred them on, but you learned quickly to not confide in anyone.
Through a few quick conversations, you get Duece's assistance in getting off the ship. His loyalty is to Ace, more than anyone else, and if you want to leave he doesn't see why he needs to remember that, since that's what you want.
You make it far.
You make it far enough for long enough you start to relax. To read the coo news, to watch the world. The fiery boy had been executed, and the whole crew had gone to save him. There's a pang, a knowing that sits in your heart, but nothing heavy, nothing that lasts.
You hear about the pay back wars, the return of the Straw Hat pirates, the fall of Dressrosa - news comes into your quiet little town on the small out of the way island where you've made your new life.
The world got too busy and too dangerous for him to come after you.
But
One day
As the world celebrates the birth (rebirth?) of the Sun God Nika, and a changing world, it happens.
Weaving through the streets pack with people, food and confetti you make your way home. You had a late shift, and you've given all you had to the celebration, but now you need rest.
Opening the door to your small home you sense it before you see it - sharp, fiery blue eyes, regarding you kindly as the door to your home closes softly behind you.
"Pretty bird," he says softly. Warmly. Kindly.
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ape-apocalypse · 3 months
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Road To The Kingdom - My Planet Of The Apes Retrospective
With the hype for Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes on the rise, I decided to do a bit of a deep dive into the trilogy of reboot movies starring the incredible Andy Serkis and the various tie-in titles.
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Why ramble on about a series that most people seem to overlook? Well, I think back to an interaction I had here on Tumblr in 2017, just one week before War For The Planet Of The Apes came out. While scrolling through the POTA tags, I found a post that wondered if anyone was actually excited for the new film or if the studio hadn't gotten the message and was making it for an audience that didn't exist. I responded that I was genuinely excited for the new film, that I loved the motion capture apes and the action scenes and the surprisingly engaging story, and would be seeing it opening weekend. The other person seemed surprised by my honest answer and apologized for their snarkiness (a truly shocking turn of events in the history of the Internet!).
I explained that I'd gone into these films thinking of them like Jurassic World series; I wasn't there for a great story and deep writing, I just wanted to see dinosaurs destroy things. So when I went into the POTA films, just expecting to see fun action movies with monkey chaos and apocalyptic results, I was surprised that I was swept up in the characters and their stories. I loved seeing the life of Caesar from tiny carefree baby to resilient revolutionary to fearsome leader, and the lives of all the humans and apes around him. The other poster said they hadn't actually seen the movies, just expected them to be shallow cash-grabs on reboot nostalgia, but they might have to reconsider giving them a shot after my enthusiastic response.
So if I can sway the minds of anyone who has written off these films, more movie tickets sold might mean more films and other media told in this ape apocalypse world!
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And even if you already know and love the films, I also want to give some love to tie-in materials. Books, comics, YouTube shorts, video games; POTA has a surprisingly large catalog of bonus material for a series not considered mainstream like Marvel or Lord Of The Rings or Star Trek. I don't see them get many mentions in the fandom so hope a little spotlight on them can help them shine. They have delicious tidbits of world-building and character backstory, filling in gaps between the movies. I already have my fingers crossed there will be some tie-in material covering some of the huge time jump between War and Kingdom. With three hundred years passing between them, there is so much to learn about the ever growing and changing ape societies. I'm eager for any scrap of info they'll share!
But really, even if nothing I write changes anyone's mind about this franchise, it's still fun to gush about one of my favorite fictional universes.
My brief history with POTA was that I didn't know much about the original films before going into the new Andy Serkis trilogy. I'd heard enough about the original film to know the main beats of the first movie (quotes like 'damn dirty ape', the reveal of the planet being Earth with the Statue of Liberty). I saw the Tim Burton film which didn't leave any kind of impression other than the incredibly realistic costumes/make-up, so much so that I was apprehensive of the CG apes. Since getting into the new films, I've started watching the originals and may cover those just for fun.
So whether you're a long-time die hard fan or a fresh face to Caesar's legacy, I hope you'll enjoy my thoughts on the Planet of the Apes franchise!
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Links to all my posts as they are released:
- Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes Film
- Prelude and Contagion Comics
- Motherboard YouTube Shorts
- Firestorm Tie-In Novel
- Fall Of Man Comics
- Dawn Tie-In Comic
- Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes Film
- Revelations Tie-In Novel
- Last Frontier Video Game
- Crisis Video Game
- When Worlds Collide Comics
- War For The Planet Of The Apes Film
- War Tie-In Comic
- Caesar's Story Novel
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Hi, so I wrote a little fic, and I posted it. I gave it to Dani, she laughed at it, I asked if I should edit it, she said "fuck it we ball"
The entire fic will be below the cut because it's short enough to post here, but if you'd like to leave comments or kudos, it is also posted on my AO3. It's only 1k words.
Dress Up As...
This is the stupidest party they have ever thrown. They know that.
This was the stupidest party they had ever thrown, and they all knew it. No one was sure whose idea it had originally been, and no one was quite brave enough to own up to it. But it was their last party at Hillerska — their last third years’ party — and it seemed like a pity to go out without throwing at least one entirely stupid blowout. 
The theme was truly very simple: Dress Up Like… 
Throughout the entire week before, each third year had one at a time drawn a card out of a hat to find out what or who they would be dressing up as for the party. Every person had a different theme. No one should or would be dressed for the same party. In theory, that’s what made it fun. 
What made it decidedly not fun was the fact that no one was allowed to redraw their theme. Once the card was in their hand, they could not switch with anyone or draw a second theme. That factor made the whole thing more than a little stressful. Because not everyone had the clothes they needed just lying around. Some of them had even resorted to stealing from First Years just to complete their looks. 
But now it was the night of the party, and one by one they started to trickle in, costumes ready and on full display.
Some were better than others. 
Henry wore a black tank top and bright green basketball shorts, chunky sneakers and a backward baseball cap. The entire night, he carried around a can of beer and would randomly start shouting about his human rights. Dress Up Like… An American. 
Walter, his ever present counterpart, looked truly ridiculous. More so than usual. He showed up in short-shorts and a crop top, an LED flower crown sitting pretty atop his head. He had a mesh shawl overtop that went farther down than his pants did, and somehow he had managed to find what could only be described as cowboy boots. Dress Up Like… A Pinterest Girlie. 
Stella wore a baby pink nightgown with a fairy pattern and clearly not matching blue bunny slippers. She had her hair tied up into pigtails and she was carrying around a worn-in looking stuffed bear. She was drinking her alcohol through a sippy-cup and every once in a while switched to suck on a lollipop. Dress Up Like… A Five-Year-Old. 
Fredrika had it (arguably) the easiest out of all of them. She was quite literally wearing a bedsheet that she’d pinned into a toga and some sandals she’d managed to find on short notice. She’d gone the extra step to make herself a wreath for her hair, but pretty much everyone was mad at her for her lucky draw. Dress Up Like… An Ancient Roman. 
Alexander had somehow gotten his hands on neon spandex. He went all out for his costume, even finding someone to give him a perm. There was a neon sweatband on his head that had “mysteriously” gone missing from the locker room a week ago. He’d completed his look with sunglasses that were too big for his face and Henry’s orange wrist-watch. Dress Up Like.. The 80s. 
Madison wore a muscle tank and tight biker shorts. She was carrying around a big bin of vanilla protein powder and every time someone asked her a question she would respond with “do you even lift, bro?” She’d gone as far as to draw on faint mustache hairs and no one was actually sure if she was kidding about having bought into cryptocurrency as a way to commit to the bit. Dress Up Like… A Gym Bro. 
Sara had spent all week stressing about her costume, only to give in and ask Henry if she could borrow his tuxedo. The one she knew he had just lying around because it was Henry, and of course he had a tuxedo lying around. She’d stolen a ring box from Simon to keep in her pocket, as well, and she had found a top hat somewhere in their mother’s box of old Halloween costumes. Dress Up Like… A Groom. 
It was a lucky coincidence that Felice was her counterpart in all of that. They looked ridiculous, but at least they looked ridiculous together. Felice had taken the time to go to the thrift store in Bjärstad for her costume, though. Not even the students of Hillerska had wedding dresses lying around. She was able to find one for relatively cheap, too, and it had come with a veil. The dress was nice if you pretended it wasn’t from the 70s and ignored the suspicious stain. Sara had gotten her a bouquet to really sell the look. Dress Up Like… A Bride. 
Wilhelm had borrowed his entire outfit from Felice. It was a blue dress and some gold jewelry. Nothing too scandalous, though he was still sure Jan-Olof’s heart would fail if he saw it. They still hadn’t told him about Wille piercing his ears yet. Wilhelm had opted to wear his own shoes for the night, as much as Felice begged him to try out high heels. He’d promised her he’d try another time when he wouldn’t have to commit to an entire night in them whilst slightly drunk. Dress Up Like… Your Best Friend.
It was Simon that truly caught everyone’s eye, though. With the exception of a long coat and scarf that they knew wasn’t his, he looked like he wasn’t dressed up at all. Everything he wore was seemingly something he wore every day. A sweatshirt and jeans, converse and a silver chain hanging around his neck. 
“Oh, come on, Simon! You could have at least tried,” Fredrika called out, somehow already tipsy despite the party having just started. 
“I’m dressed up,” Simon said. He shrugged off the coat and scarf before depositing himself in Wilhelm’s lap. 
It was an obvious lie. 
“Simon, you wear that all the time,” Henry pointed out. 
Simon nodded, running his fingers through the hairs on the back of Wille’s head. “Yes, I do, and I’m still dressed up.” 
Wilhelm looked like the cat who caught the canary and, most of the time, the rest of them would take that as a clue to just accept Simon’s words as truth and move on. But not tonight. No, they had all made asses of themselves trying to commit to this stupid ass party plan and they would be damned if Simon ruined it. They would force him to go home and change if they had to. They’d drag him by the ear back to Bjärstad and stand guard until he emerged looking just as idiotic as the rest of them.
“I would bet all the money in my wallet that you are not dressed up properly,” Walter said. It would have been a serious threat, too, had he not looked so ridiculous. 
“Are you sure about that?” Simon asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. 
“I’d like to join in this bet!” Maddie declared, pulling her wallet out of her waistband. And, soon, they were all betting some kind of money on the fact that Simon had not properly committed to their stupid plan. 
Wilhelm didn’t say a word. He just sat back with a smug look on his face as Simon got all of his friends to bet him a small fortune. He, of course, knew what Simon was supposed to be dressed up as. He, of course, knew Simon was about to be several thousand kronor richer. 
When everyone had placed their bets on the table, his own sister included, Simon pulled his card out of the coat he’d earlier discarded. He knew they were going to challenge him on his costume. He’d come prepared for this. 
He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter, though it was difficult with Wilhelm’s arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. “Everything I’m wearing — boxers included — is something Wilhelm has, at some point, stolen from me,” he announced. He threw his card down on top of the make-shift money pot and then leaned back into his boyfriend with a satisfied smirk. “Read it and weep, bitches.” 
Dress Up As… Royalty.
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letherivers · 7 months
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The Dynamic of Cellbit and the Fed Workers and Fed Workers hiding themselves, a ramble
This is the first time I'm trying something like this, but I feel as though I'm one of the only ones who has connected these dots and seen the parallels that I'm going to talk about in this post and I feel as though I need to explore my thoughts and type them out for other people to see, think about and comment on
This contains mainly snippets of Cellbit and Bad's lore, including them during the hunger games wars, and lore from the past few days, including Quackity's stream on the 16th (lore from October 15th and 16th)
Saying this, it will contain spoilers so please be aware
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On the 15th we learn about the A0 event that will be happening, Cellbit calls BBH to his castle where they talk about Ron and his kidnaping, and taking down the federation. Cellbit talks about how good it felt to kill a worker even if it was by accident and if Ron outwore his usefulness that Cellbit wished to kill him himself. BBH knows what Cellbit has gone through because they both went through it together. He is aware of the trauma that Cellbit endured and why he feels the way he does. Cellbit having to kill people to survive and do horrible acts (c*nnibalism, etc) in order to simply live. Cellbit was tortured by the Federation and wishes for it to burn to the ground and is happy to kill anyone (Fed workers mainly) who get in the way of it. He and BBH are happy to spare any workers who side with them, but Cellbit is very bloodthirsty
On the 16th, on Quackity's stream he disguises himself as Fred and infiltrates the Fed office and attends the meeting Fred is supposed to be at. There he seems the workers partying and having fun and checking in on each other, sharing information and drama and gossip.
And just being normal people, trying their best to live their lives, before having to go back to being a conformed mass, unable to show their personalities and unique traits except in small moments where they don't have to shove it all down and away in fear of being punished and possibly killed.
We learn from multiple POVs that the workers have had their memories messed with, some practically erased and have been forced from their original lives to work for the Federation, having to commit horrible acts against their will in order to survive. We see how cared for and loved Fred is to the workers during this time, all of them checking in, offering support and hugs, even accepting if he has romantic feelings for Tubbo and that they will be happy for him if he decides to pursue a relationship. One guard even states feeling grief and sadness over the loss of the eggs who have passed away, commenting on a photo of Quackity and Tilin stating he "hopes they [Tilin] are resting peacefully, and that he had high hopes for them". Quackity doesn't know how to process all of this due to his perception of the federation due to his treatment under them and sees them all as evil.
The parallels between Cellbit and the Federation workers is heartbreaking, both parties being forced to do terrible things in order to be safe another day and being traumatized by it; but unable to do much to escape what is happening unless they are finally given an out. So far it feels as though Cellbit and the other residents will be the out for the Federation workers, those that truly do not wish to be there and want to be able to live their lives freely without a looming threat that any outward traits that do not fit in a box carved for them will result in something terrible happening to them.
I hope that this can happen and that most of the workers will have a happy ending, because they seem to be just innocent people who have been put in a very terrible situation against their will.
Just a lot of thoughts that I need to get out of my head and my god does my heart hurt seeing so many similarities but Cellbit being too blinded by trauma to see that the workers are suffering just like he did.
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rillils · 4 months
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what hurts me most is thinking abt people realizing just how YOUNG bucky actually is
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it's so fucking unfair, it just breaks your heart to even think about it, doesn't it?
consider catfa. here you have a young man barely into his late 20s, when you're technically a fully grown adult, but really you're most likely still trying to get your shit together, you know, still figuring out how Adulting™ really works - and then it's one tragedy after the other for him
Bucky has his whole life ahead of him, and instead of getting to choose a path of his own, of building a life for himself, he is:
drafted into a war he never even wanted to be a part of
captured, forced into hard physical labor and ultimately experimented on against his will
kinda roped into going back to the front lines after being rescued (not against his will this time, but let's face it, there was no way in hell that he would have gone home while Steve was still out there putting his life on the line)
captured once more when his whole team thought him dead, tortured in every possible way, taken apart, experimented on some more, quite possibly put on god knows what kind of substances, either to further improve his physical performances or to aid in keeping him docile and easier to manipulate - or, well, for both of those reasons I guess
brutally stripped of his identity, his memories, his free will, his humanity, and reshaped into a killing machine, a weapon to be used whenever necessary, and, as they say, put away wet. and then rinse and repeat for sixty-nine years.
the truly horrifying part is that they didn't just hurt him, they also forced him to hurt other people. people whose lives were taken by his own hands, when he was barely even an unwilling passenger in his own body. so here he is, just… grieving,
both for himself - the years he lost to torture and brainwashing, and can never get back again; and the life he could have had, with all the people he loved, in the place he used to call home - and for all the victims of the Soldier and their respective families, left to mourn their loved ones, often without even knowing why.
he could have lived a normal, quiet, happy life, but all of that was taken away from him.
BUT but but butt butt
here's the thing.
actually, here's a couple of things.
you see, pieces of crap like Endgame will try to convince you that, if things didn't go exactly your way the first time around, you should just give up on your future altogether and fuck off to the past, where you can live out an unhealthy fantasy and have a creepy, dystopian-coded life as-- well, not even as yourself, just as somebody else wearing your own face.
don't listen to pieces of crap like Endgame, they give the shittiest kind of advice.
because! because even after everything he went through, Bucky's still alive! his life isn't over. and that's the beauty of it! he SO can still be happy, and do all the things he didn't get to do back in the day. sure, the timing might not be what he originally thought, back before the war, but just because his plans got derailed doesn't mean that he can't build his own life now. and that's exactly what he's going to do, one step at a time - and YES, with Steve by his side, if I get any say in this (and this being my answer to an ask on my blog, I get all the say lol)
so I hereby declare that Bucky gets to be as fucking happy as can be! like, SO MUCH FUCKING HAPPINESS, YOU CAN'T EVEN QUANTIFY IT. so much fucking happiness, you'd think he might get sick of it!!!! but he won't!!!!!!
I think he does find that calm he so desperately needed. I think he gets to find himself again, gets to meet all the parts of him he thought he'd lost, the ones even he had forgotten. I think, he even gets to meet some new sides of Bucky Barnes he hadn't had the chance to discover yet.
I think he learns that some days are worse than others, and on those days, he learns to show himself a little kindness, and a little forgiveness for not being who (he used to think) he was supposed to be, and a little love for who he is.
I think he also learns that, while there are some bad days, and there will always be, most of them are actually, surprisingly, good days. I think he learns that he has the right to have good days. I think he learns that he deserves to have good days. I think he learns that it's okay to feel good; that there's nothing silly or lazy in just sitting outside in the sun, and basking in its warmth like a happy little lizard, and wishing you never had to move from that spot at all.
I think he gets to be the nerd he always was deep down; science nerd, space nerd, book nerd, any sort of nerd flavor he can find the time and will to explore.
I think he gets to build a home for himself, with the man who always meant Home to him, more than any house ever could.
I think he gets to wake up to good-morning kisses, and to good-morning fingers carding tenderly through his hair, and good-morning playful groping under the sheets, and good-morning "sorry I just kneed you in the groin, lemme kiss it better for ya", and good-morning giggles because Steve's bedhead achieves epic levels of Bird's Nest first thing in the morning, and good-morning pretty eyes looking back at him from Steve's pillow, drinking him in like no sight in the world will ever be as heartrendingly beautiful as Bucky waking up next to him in their big, big bed, and good-morning "how do you want your eggs?", and good-morning "let's skip eggs and have french toast today", because today, today he's feeling good.
and that's only the start, honey 💕💕💕
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