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tojisun · 1 year

Text

into my flesh

toji x fem reader

!! smut fic - minors dni; hinted age gap; mentioned jealousy; praise and degradation kink; petnames; squirting; brief cervix sex; breeding kink; passing out post-sex; mentioned aftercare; toji’s big dick galore // 2.4k words

: have my horny thoughts strung to form a somewhat coherent fic; i hope u guys would like it <33; title of the fic is from flesh - simon curtis

there is something in the way you make toji jealous that unleashes the ever-pooling desire he has for you.

wearing that red silk dress that he bought for you on your birthday, pulling him in with the curl of your lips, but never allowing him to venture close. you sidestep away from his touch whenever he tries to hook his arm around your waist, your lips pursed like toji isn’t worth your minute.

toji's glower grows and his frown deepens but he gets it.

he knows this game. he knows that you're just trying to set his veins ablaze because oh how you love it when his lips are pulled back in a snarl and his hips are punching in their thrust and his hands find their purchase around your neck. oh how you love his growled words pressed on the rise of your breasts, promises of filth rippling along your damp skin, before full lips circle around your hardened nipple. oh how you love it when toji is ruthless with his love — animalistic and jagged and overarching.

toji knows how this game goes so he slinks back into the shadows and watches you. he watches the way you hover around this boy — because what else could he be if not a boy whose lips twitch in their attempt to keep your attention, his fingers fiddling with the loose dress shirt hanging off of him, all because he could not handle your magnificence — and titter at his jokes, your eyelashes batting purposefully delicate, enticing him in a way that no other could. your hair frames your face devilishly: the cut of your jaw is sharp, your cheekbones are defined, and your eyes are half-lidded.

toji is feet away from you but even his throat goes parched. he can’t blame the kid for swooning even if toji wants nothing more but to pull you away from those coveting eyes.

——————————————————

toji’s smile is cruel as he taps the head of his cock on your twitching cunt. you whimper a choked moan, your eyes fluttering shut as the tears continue to spill. your lashes are sticking together and you are sure your “waterproof” eyeliner is all but retained, but fuck.

fuck.

your chest heaves as you gaze back into toji’s eyes, sharp hues of green looking at you with such reverence like you’re so precious even when utterly debauched. like toji loves you like this: heady and desperate and mewling. and he does. you know he does. but there is something so good at the reminder of how your presence pushes toji past his built walls, ushering his scarred palms to feel you.

he is so beautiful like this: impatient and hungry for you.

(toji has always been beautiful but in way that was not apparent in your exes — satoru with his twinkling eyes that crinkle every time he laughs; kento with his quiet drawl as he whispers your name; mei with her sloping curves and her pianist fingers ghosting their touch along your spine. no. toji is not delicate like them; even in his softness, toji has always been different and stark against your history of picnic dates and lavender kisses.

because toji, with his maps of scars and speckles of grey hair peppering the sea of black and crooked grin and aged hands and deep baritone, was not fortunate enough to afford to grow in his gentleness. he had to learn it himself — crafting fragility from his weaponry of agony and anger, all for you. all because of you. because he saw you and realized he loved you and promised, then, that he would bear kindness from his ruined hands.)

“hey,” toji’s voice is gruff as he calls out to you, pulling you from your swimming thoughts. “y’still there, baby?”

you blink back at him, glossed eyes focusing on his face.

oh how cruel of you to think about other people when toji, the man whom you love with all that you are, has you pinned down on his bed, mounting you with his bigger body. fuck, the reminder of how easy it was for toji to press your legs parallel to your chest has you breathing heavily, your pussy clenching at nothing. a quiet huff escapes your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes almost going crossed when toji slides his cock along your soaked folds again.

“yes,” you finally hum. “please, fuck me.” your empty hands slide down his chest, running your fingertips past his nipples and down to where he has a fist around his heavy and thick and full cock. your tongue juts out to swipe at your lips, feeling utterly hungry all of a sudden.

“impatient,” toji tuts. “after almost dozing on me an’ everything.”

your cheeks burn, your lips pouting. you murmur unintelligibly, not really refuting his words but not admitting to them either.

“shh,” toji whispers at seeing you flustered. he cups your cheeks, sliding his thumb just below your eyes. “was just joking, sweetheart.”

your lips part open for a response, one that dashes from the tip of your tongue at the feeling of toji’s cock slowly pushing in your pussy. you keen, your back arching off the bed.

god, you feel so full. and even then, with your quiet whimpers and curling toes, toji’s still not all the way in. your eyes flutter at every steady slide, panting at the feeling of being so stretched out. you don’t even hear yourself keening, so focused in the way toji’s cock breaches your walls like this is the first time all over again.

toji’s so gentle even when you can hear his heaving breaths, his fingers — the free hand that he has that’s holding onto your hip — dimpling your skin where the thin line of sweat builds up because of the heat simmering from toji’s palm. you peer up at him through clumped lashes, gasping quietly at the look you see on his face.

toji’s brows curl the way you know he’s barely suppressing himself from punching in his thrusts. his lips — scarred and plump and beautiful — are pulled in a snarl, and you shiver at the intensity of his eyes when he pulls them up from where you two are connected to meet your own.

he growls, the sound so animalistic it reverberates within the space between you two, sending goosebumps rising across the expanse of your skin.

“shit, baby,” toji groans, full-stopping and bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. a sort of giddy and disbelief fills the bubble in your stomach — toji isn’t even fully in yet. “you’re so good, might just cum like this.”

he shallowly pulls out, you moan, your tears building up again, before he’s thrusting back in and breaching further in you. “just gon’ feel your cunt warm my cock like this, have you looking like the doll you are, an’ i’ll be gone.”

he sweeps your damp hair away from your face.

“you heard what i said, baby?” toji asks like you weren’t hanging onto his every word like they are gospel, pulling his cock back out, the slide is torturously slow, and only stopping when all that’s left in you is the head of his weeping cock. “you could milk me dry with just a bat of your eyes.”

you giggle, punching his chest playfully. “shut up and fuck me already!” you whine. toji winks at you in response and you roll your eyes with a fond smile, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“mm, whatever my princess wants.” then toji thrusts all the way in.

you wail, feeling his cock hit something nestled deep in you, but you couldn’t even think for a second and figure out what it was because toji’s pulling out, not letting you get used to the full stretch of his cock, and fucking into you just as fast, his pelvis grinding against yours.

toji doesn’t stop, his hips unrelenting as they piston fast and hard and deep. you squeal, your fingers digging into the duvet, fisting them tightly as dizzying pleasure overwhelms you. toji’s head bows, the muscles of his back rippling as he does so, and bites on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“toji!” you cry, voice almost breaking into a sob, at the sharp pain on your neck mingling with the overdrive of pleasure erupting across your veins.

toji hums, his voice muffled in your skin. when he pulls back, he folds himself before you, pressing his weight on the back of your thighs.

“god, baby,” toji groans. “so wet around me.” he humps his hips forward as he says this, as though urging you to feel the sloppy mess running down the sides of your thighs. you choke, your eyes rolling back. toji does it again, his face finding its spot on the crook of your neck as he fucks you, his hips rolling every time he’s pressed close, and you hiccup at every new angle he hits.

there’s a weight inside you every time toji fucks in. it feels foreign but not unwanted; overwhelming and sensitive. when toji bucks in, you realize what it is that he’s hitting.

you squeal, crying as you scream, almost like the knowledge alone of toji pressing his cock in your deepest part brought about a new feeling of pleasure.

toji laughs, his voice ripping through your echoes of shaky sobs. “you feel it, baby?” he lifts his face to meet your eyes. “oh, yeah you do.” his voice crinkles like he is amused.

“deep!” you cry, trembling, your mind unable to string any more coherent sentences.

toji hums. “feel me kissing your cervix? if i press in like this,” he pauses to press his pelvis flushed close to yours, his eyes furrowing and his grin growing sharp when he feels you squeeze around him, your tight walls spasming around the thick curve of his cock. you let out a long hiss, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of being utterly stuffed.

“see, sweetheart?” toji continues, his voice low and guttural. “your womb is practically opening up for my cock.” you hiccup at his words, your cheeks warming up at the slur of his voice. the imagery makes your moans wobble, and toji laughs when he feels your pussy twitch around him again.

“oh darling,” he croons. “you love it when i talk to you about your hungry cunt? wanna hear the way it’s clinging so greedily around my cock? oh, yeah you do. you love being reminded how desperate of a slut you turn to.”

you sob, your voice breaking into breathy ah-ah-ahs. toji shakes his head, fully endeared even when you are splayed out before him — your skin glistening with sweat; your hair sticking to your forehead; your pussy stretched and wet and dripping as it clings around toji’s thick cock.

toji hums, delighted, before straightening back again. his cock slides out, its head leaving the depths of your walls — your cervix, you are reminded when toji rocks back in again as if testing how deep he’s claimed you — and you watch, even with muddled mind and blurry eyes, as toji holds onto the meat of your thighs.

it all happens so quickly. you saw toji’s mirage, a god-incarnate before you, and the next thing you know, he’s fucking you hard and fast, his mind focused on nothing but making you cum. you can hear yourself screaming, your throat burning alongside the pleasure erupting from your pussy. your blunt fingernails are digging into toji’s shoulders, and it is all you can do to reel yourself in from the numbing pleasure as toji pistons his hips, his pace picking up, going faster, faster, faster–!

“shit, baby!” he crows as the first spray of your squirt hits his pelvis. “yes!” toji hisses. “c’mon, sweetheart, keep squirtin’ on me.”

your eyes roll back and your ears are ringing, but you do just as he said: you squirt with every push of his cock, the rivulets between your thighs dripping to stain the sheets.

it takes toji four unrelenting thrusts before his hard pistoning peters into pathetic humps, his own orgasm building rapidly. “‘m gon’ breed this pussy,” toji murmurs, so pussy-drunk that his words turn into accented slurs. “‘m gon’ fill you up. you want that, baby? wanna be filled up?”

“yes, please!” you scream, nodding, your hand reaching down to rub at your hardened clit. “fill me, toji! fill me, please!”

“of course, sweet thing,” toji growls, pushing his cock all the way in, before you feel the sprays of hot cum shooting into your sensitive walls.

a choked moan escapes your throat before you are cumming agin, your soaked cunt squeezing toji’s one last time — “fuck, darling,” he moans, his voice curling into a hiss — then your eyes finally shut close.

——————————————————

you wake up to your head tucked into the crook of toji’s neck, your silk pajamas crinkling as you move about the bed. throbbing pain echoes mutely from your spine, and your exhausted mind reels back at the onslaught of memories.

oh. oh fuck.

you can’t believe you passed out. while toji’s balls deep in you, too.

you choke, embarrassment rushing across your veins.

a muffled squawk is ripped from your throat, tentatively distracting you from your thoughts, when toji’s arms tug you further into his embrace like you’re not already pressed flush to him. you study his face, watching as his brows begin to crinkle like he’s about to wake up.

before you can effectively escape from the rousing toji, his voice rumbles from where his lips are pressed on the crown of your head.

“g’mornin’,” he whispers.

you cringe, realizing that you have to face the embarrassment of passing out on toji while he’s literally breeding you. you cough, awkwardly, and greet, “good morning,” your voice quiet and broken. oh wow.

toji whistles, pulling back just enough to eye you. “you sound ruined,” he states.

you smack his exposed — hickey and bite mark-littered — chest. “whose fault is it?” you hiss at him.

toji grins. “mine.” he says it so cheekily and with so much pride, his scarred lips stretching to show off sharp canines.

you smack him again, futilely ignoring the explosion of warmth in your cheeks and the growing embarrassment curling at your stomach.

“ow! baby, ow!” toji cries, rolling away to avoid your soft punches. you follow him with difficulty, your body still aching, but you are determined to smack toji until your shame abates.

you fail, anyways, when toji drapes himself across you like an overgrown and clingy cat, trapping you between him and the soft bed.

ugh, why’s he literally so cute.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x fem reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jjk #suns

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heliads · 9 months

Note

Can you do a Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Avenger reader one-shot? The reader is a Hydra experiment turned Avenger who has hawk wings and can fly like a bird. She can hide her wings by folding them like a bird can. She grew up somewhere in the US and doesn’t remember her parents, so the closest thing she has to a family is the Avengers. She meets Peter and starts dating him. Her alias, chosen by Tony, is Hawk, which Peter thinks is a little on the nose.

masterlist

You know, at moments like this, you’re really not sure if you’re dreaming or not. The setting around you seems real enough, but it’s happened so many times before that you’re starting to progress past deja vu and into entirely new territory. You could do this sort of mission in your sleep, and at this point, you kind of think you already have.

The scene is simple. Someone has attacked New York, and someone must save the city. This time, it’s not aliens or HYDRA knocking down your door but a new kind of inhuman with a bone to pick. At this rate, you get them so frequently that it’s like a regularly scheduled TV broadcast. Have you caught up on the latest season of unhappy mutants? Nah, I’m still three weeks backlogged on super powered individuals who hate us all.

A voice crackles into your earpiece, and you have to blink hard to get yourself to focus again. A lab tech company stole the blood samples of someone with powers in an attempt to understand more about what makes inhumans so utterly not human. The victim, your criminal of the week, is using his fire powers to burn down the company’s headquarters to prove that they’ll never be able to control him.

See, you’re supposed to be out here stopping the guy, but you kind of see his point. You were a lab experiment yourself a while back, and the results gave you powers and a chance to join the Avengers. Your time as a HYDRA science experiment was the worst experience of your life– agony and horror galore, to say the least– and if this guy’s standing up for the rights of the inhumans to avoid laboratories with a little too keen an interest in your inner workings, you don’t really want to kill him for his troubles.

That’s not the Avengers way, though. You weren’t hired for your thoughts on the rights of inhumans, especially those who suffered in the name of scientific progress, you’re here to save the city and the world and the universe, usually all three at once.

Hence the reason Captain America is chastising you to get your head in the game. This isn’t a time for sightseeing, it’s your chance to protect the innocents as the fire spreads. Thanks to the human-sized hawk wings that have been yours ever since your lab days, you’re in charge of the aerial defense of the Avengers, a role they need you for right now.

Today, you’re not a girl, you’re the Hawk, and you have a job to do. Tony Stark was responsible for your induction into the Avengers, as well as that very obvious alias. He’s also desperate for backup from the sky, especially right now.

You sigh, bid your morals a temporary adieu, and soar down from your vantage point in the clouds. The inhuman isn’t expecting another attacker from above, especially not one moving as fast as you. You tuck your wings into your sides for additional velocity, and slam into him hard enough to knock him to the ground.

Seizing the opportunity of his distraction, Natasha quickly fires electric charges into his chest, knocking the guy out for a few seconds. From there, it’s easy to get some cuffs on the inhuman and shove him into the reinforced mobile holding cell S.H.I.E.L.D. sent over for precisely that purpose.

Steve nods at you. “Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You smile wearily. “Any time.”

It’s easier to appreciate the Avengers lifestyle now, basking in the glow of having played a pivotal role in keeping the city safe. It’s a little more difficult hours later, when the sun has already set but you’re still trapped in the Avengers complex for a debrief that just won’t end.

It’s not the Avengers’ fault, you know that. S.H.I.E.L.D. has its protocols, and they get a little antsy if they aren’t followed. Still, you can’t help it when your mind starts wandering. You’ve attended enough meetings on the proper rules to be followed when your life is on the line and they all blur together.

You tune back in when Steve says your name. They’re discussing you now, apparently, and the words being said aren’t all compliments.

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, can you please try to focus for five minutes?”

You grimace. “Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about, exactly?”

Natasha arches a brow. “This, to be honest. You’re not as engaged with the fights as you used to be.”

You wince. “Can you blame me? I’ve been at this for years, Nat, ever since you guys broke me out of the HYDRA labs. I never went to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, I’ve never been a spy. I’m just doing my best out here.”

Bruce raises his hands placatingly. “We know that, kid, and we’re proud of you. We just need to be sure that you’re one hundred percent on top of things whenever you’re out in the field, for your safety as well as ours.”

You nod. “I’ll try to be better. Sorry.”

Tony frees you at last from the shame of everyone’s disapproving stares. “Look, cut the girl a break. She did well out there, and no one got hurt. If something happens, we can discuss this more seriously, but why punish her for an incident that hasn’t happened yet? Y/N, I know it’s getting late. You can go if you want.”

You jump on that chance and thank him, hurrying out of the room just in time to hear Steve chastising Tony for letting you go as the door closes behind you. You’re not sticking around to be called back. You have no interest in hearing a repeat of the same lecture.

In all honesty, they’re not entirely wrong. You do need to get your head in order. It’s just been difficult to focus on anything, really. Everything feels the same, and why care about any job if a similar mission is going to take place the next week, and the next week, and the next? They all end the same way, and they’re always going to.

You poke your head out of a balcony and, spreading your wings to take flight, soar up to the roof. Everything seems simpler up here. Why stress about the city when it’s nothing more than a thousand pinpricks of light?

You coast on the night breeze for a while before coming to a stop on a neighboring skyscraper. It’s nice to finally be alone, or so you think until a voice sounds from behind you.

“Sorry, is this roof taken?”

You glance behind you to see a figure emerging from the shadows. After a heartbeat, you realize you recognize the red mask, the scarlet and blue suit, the black arachnid logo on the center of the stranger’s chest. This is the Spider-Man you’ve been hearing about in the news lately. He’s saving the city, but doing it his own way, not caught up in the politics of being an Avenger.

Truth be told, you admire him for it. It must be nice to save people without the lecture that always follows you. He doesn’t have to be perfect, he just has to get the job done. What a life to lead.

You shake your head, gesturing beside you. “Not for you. What’s up, Spider-Boy?”

He chuckles as he sits down next to you. “Normally, I’d insist on being referred to as a man, but I’ll let it slide just this once. I’m pretty alright, what about you? I saw you were saving the city again earlier today. I would have joined in, but–”

You shake your head, dismissing his apology. “No need. The Avengers tend to swarm all over things, no need to involve yourself in their mess.”

Spider-Man glances your way, and when he speaks again, his voice is curious. “I take it you’re not on the best of terms with them at the moment?”

You sigh. “Just for now. They’re the only family I’ve ever known, so we get along most of the time. We’ve just been in a rough patch at the moment. I don’t really know why.”

Spider-Man lifts a shoulder. “Well, you said they’re like your family, right? The fights don’t surprise me. All families struggle to get along all the time. I’m sure it’ll blow over in a few days.”

You chuckle. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I should hope so,” Spider-Man informs you, “I’m kind of the world’s leading expert on superpowered family relationships. I got a college degree in, uh, Avenging Therapy.”

This time, your laugh is easy, carefree. “Well, Mr. Inhuman Therapist, I’d love a little more advice. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He reaches out a hand to shake yours. “I’m Peter. It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

Lovely, as it turns out, is exactly the right word to use. The two of you talk well into the night, and you find yourself more than reluctant to leave him, even as the call to sleep grows stronger. Luckily, you end up crossing paths again soon, and then accidental meetings happen on purpose, more and more often until you know the face under the mask just as well as you know the so-called vigilante plastered across the newspaper pages.

It’s just nice to have Peter around, that’s all. He reminds you that there’s a life worth living outside of every fight. It takes you a while to realize that he’s the only friend you’ve ever wanted as more than just a friend, the one you like, the one you love, but after that– well, it feels impossible that you could have ever known anything else.

You’re on a similar rooftop one night a few months later when you learn that he feels the same way about you. You were a little late to your usual meetup spot thanks to yet another meeting with the Avengers, but instead of complaining, Peter beams at you and says,

“There she is! The angel of New York City has arrived.”

You laugh. It’s easy, around him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m nobody’s angel.”

The thought is absurd. You have been a lab rat, a soldier, and a civilian, all in turn. These are all roles that you have played, but none of them have ever been truly yours. Never, though, has an angel ever been among their ranks.

Still, Peter seems to believe it. His eyes gleam with certainty. “You’re mine.”

You almost choke on your own incredulity. “You’re joking. Me, an angel? There are at least a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. files that would argue the opposite.”

“I’m not joking,” Peter hums. “You can’t deny your angel-hood, Y/N. I’ve already given it to you.”

“I’m giving it back,” you tell him. “Find someone who’s actually a good person.”

“I have,” he asserts. “I just don’t get why you can’t see that. It’s fairly obvious to me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “And why is that?”

“Oh, ‘cause I love you, of course,” Peter says, as easily as if he’s stating a simple, well known fact. Your face must have given away your surprise, because he glances over at you again. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to stutter out, “It’s just, well, I love you too.”

“I know,” he grins, tilting his head up to the night stars.

After that, it gets better, impossibly. As your boyfriend, Peter is in your life even more than before. Sometimes that involves him stopping by your apartment to bring you flowers. Other times, it means he’s willing to help out with the Avengers so long as they don’t ask questions like who he is and why he’s had an abrupt change of heart about wanting to fight with them.

Usually, you don’t want to call him in. The Avengers can be a hassle, which you’ve learned after years of being one of their number. However, when the fights get to be a little out of hand, a little text to your boyfriend means you’ll have another soldier on your side swinging over in five minutes flat, and that’s more welcome than you can even begin to describe.

Even on days like today, when he stops by to take out some robbers who somehow got their hands on alien tech, you couldn’t be happier to see him. The other Avengers are there, and you probably would have got the job done by yourselves, but it would have taken far more time and cost far more blood. Thankfully, you’ve got Spider-Man on dial, and you can solve problems like superpowered thieves in half the time.

You smile at him as he swings up beside you. He’s still got his mask on, of course, but you can sense his smile even despite the fabric in between you. “Thanks for the helping hand, Spider-Man.”

He laughs. “Any time, Angel. You know that.”

Across the street, the Avengers glance up from the robbers they’d been investigating. Tony frowns. “What was that?”

Peter freezes in place. “What was what?”

Tony quickly points his finger between the two of you. “You just called her something. Angel. What was that about?”

Peter lifts a shoulder in his best imitation of a shrug. “A, uh, new callname? Hawk is too obvious.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “And Angel isn’t?”

Peter raises his hands palm up in a universal gesture of helplessness. “I thought it was more interesting, at least.”

Tony doesn’t seem ready to let him off the hook just yet. “And that’s all it is? Just a codename, not anything else?”

Peter’s voice is as smooth as he can make it. “What else could it be, sir?”

You nod, the picture of innocence. “Yeah, Tony, what else could it possibly be?”

Tony stares at both of you, but he can’t find any evidence of wrongdoing. “It had better be. You wouldn’t believe how fast I can squash a spider if need be.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Peter says weakly, and starts hurrying away the second Tony turns his back.

You follow him, giggling to yourself. “Nice save there, bug boy.”

Peter groans. “If I wake up in the middle of the night to find that he’s launched an Iron Army or something to kill me as punishment for dating his adoptive superhero child, it’s totally your fault.”

You pretend to be outraged. “No, it’s not! You’re the one who called me that in the first place, remember? The blame’s all yours.”

Peter reaches an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be as charming, Y/N. Then I wouldn’t have any problems properly addressing you as a coworker.”

You laugh. “My charm is irresistible, Pete. Give up now.”

“I already have,” he assures you. Such a flirt. You’ve never minded it, though, and you don’t intend to start now.

Sometimes, this city feels as if it was designed to stress you out. As an Avenger, you’ll never have an end to the missions, nor the civilians to save. There will always be one more job in which you could risk your life, and the memories of your time spent in Hydra’s labs won’t let you go anytime soon.

For now, though, the shadows under the skyscrapers seem a little less dark than before, and the faces peering out of apartment windows at you aren’t hostile or threatening but friendly. This is your city, the one you save with your boyfriend. How could it ever be anything but good to you?

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @with-inked-solace, @callsign-scully, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

Forget me not or I’ll forget myself - Aegon II x Reader

And I pray that all the poppies they.

They will just fade away.

But fields of poppies they remain.

That's how they found me last time, dead

Rozz Williams - Flowers

Rating: Mature/Explicit

A/N: I just wanted a glimpse into how dreary the keep was before all things went to real Hell

Tags: Angst galore, burned Aeg after rook’s rest, younger sister reader, one sided love, heartbreak, handies, Poor Aeg, TW: opium usage, extreme pain, burns and blood, Helaena’s mental state, self harm, dub-con, mistaken identity, Alicent tries, sad ending

Alicent would let you finally enter Aegon’s quarters, where he laid asleep. She wouldn’t let you see him when the maesters were tending to the burns, the cries of your dear brother’s agony filling the halls.

Then silence. The silence frightened you more than anything. Helaena couldn’t comfort you, you could barely comfort her in her massive grief. Alicent and Aemond had to tend to the war. Ser Criston had joined them.

So it was just you and your two handmaidens, who had been shrugged off recently as you had become agitated. You couldn’t leave the keep and you worried for your dear dragon. Instead you wept and waited and wept, listening for his voice.

You had a betrothal but the recent upheaval had rendered it moot. You were glad because all you ever wanted was Aegon, flawed and irresponsible as he was. A Maester shuffled by and you hopped up, hands nervously tearing at your dress.

“Yes princess? He is stable, just bringing some sustenance and more milk of the poppy after I change his bandages.”

“The Dowager Queen said I may sit with the King, sir.”

The man held out an arm for you to grab, murmuring gently, “This will not be a pretty sight m’lady. Our king is holding strong but, ahem, dragonflame has done its damage,” the elder Maester paused, “Mayhaps you can hold his undamaged hand while I change the linens?” You nodded vigorously, heart beating faster and faster.

A Kingsguard silently opened the door to the dimly lit room. It looked much different than when Viserys was there. The replication of Valyria your father worked on was moved to underneath the keep at the behest of Aegon.

You could see Aegon’s form on the wide bed, covered in oozing bandages, his arm tightly wrapped. The Maester shushed you, “Quiet now my princess, he is in a delicate state.” Holding a trembling hand over your mouth you followed the short Maester, who directed for you to sit on the other side of the bed.

Aegon shifted and mumbled, half of his gorgeous face covered in linen. You hoped it wasn’t as bad as Viserys had become. The gaping holes, gnashing teeth.

“Sire, it’s Maester Merand, I’ve come to change your linens for Orwyle. Your younger sister is here.”

A bloodshot purple eye hazily regarded you. He rasped, lungs and throat still charred from fire, “Dear sister, you don’t need to see this. Please.” You shook your head and grabbed his scabbed but not severely burnt hand, squeezing. Your breath came out a warble as you tried not to cry, “You need family big brother, let me stay please?”

He regarded the Maester, then back to you, “Hold me tight songbird.” Hot tears streamed down your face as he opened his mouth for a bite to be put in, hand gripped roughly around your smaller one. Another Maester, younger, shuffled in to assist with a wooden table of sorts.

Merand hummed and dosed Aegon with the milk of the poppy through the bite-piece, your brother’s body immediately going lax with a soft moan. The elder Maester said, “Be still and hold him, that is all your King needs.” You nodded, more tears staining your ashen cheeks. They unpeeled the yellowish bandaging, Aegon’s body stiffened as he began to howl— purple eyes wide with pain.

His hand shook and trembled you putting your other hand on top and shushing, “Shhh, it’ll feel better after, gods bless you.” He screamed louder as Merand rubbed a balm on the burnt flesh of his cheek, ear and neck. The scarring ran twisted hot and angry down his torso.

“Just fucking kill me you beast!,” Aegon hissed through his bite. His hand hurt yours but you bared it for dear Aegon.

Your brows furrowed as they patched up his body and head. Aegon writhed in pain when they unwrapped the arm, the worst from what you had heard. Metal fused to flesh. You held back a retch at the sight, eyes blown wide, unable to stop staring at the blackened twisted flesh.

“Gods please! No more! Strike me down for my sins, anything other than this,” he raged.

Still you held on. The younger Maester had to come and hold him down as Aegon jerked around so much. Your brother hissed, cursed, and wept by the end of the process. Merand gently lifted him up into a sitting position, you moving to follow along. They had to get his back and shoulder now.

Then it was over. Merand dosed him with some healing herbal concoctions and a hearty amount of milk of the poppy. Aegon sobbed softly, tears staining his new bandages. You stroked away a tear on his new cheek as the man began to fade into those dreamless poppy slumbers.

“May I stay Maester Merand?,” you asked.

He fiddled with a chainlink before humming, “I don’t think you would be causing any issues. My assistant will be back for supper. Just let him rest and be there for your king.”

The table, sounds of metals clinking, and shuffling stopped. Only the burning of the wooden wicks and Aegon’s ragged breathing filled the room. His hand was still intertwined with your own, but loosened from sleep. You pet his silver hair, singing the songs he used to demand from you over and over again, drunkenly smiling like you meant the world to him.

“Sing songbird sing,” he’d cheer, cheeks rosy and full lips split into a grin.

Your lips trembled as you cried over him, eventually falling asleep when you grew numb from it all. They awoke you and him for supper, letting you spoon feed Aegon the soup. He said in a slurred murmur, “You’re too kind songbird. Didn’t you..have..have a betrothal?”

“War broke out remember? No time for a wedding and I have a dragon.”

He frowned slightly. Aegon slurped softly and swallowed. “Right..I’ll find you a husband when I feel better. It’s much less…the word..uh…lonely when you’re here. So that will wait.”

Your heart hurt. You didn’t want to be married, but the chance of having him was impossible. You’d just spend the time you could while he healed, pretending to be the dutiful wife. You stroked his soft hair and hummed, “Would you like me to sing you a tune to sleep? I have your poppy milk.”

He sighed, “Please.”

Off he slumbered, to the tune of The Dornishman’s wife. His favorite bawdy song. You wept again. You wondered if that’s all you were capable of now. For now you’d go and change, bathe, actually see your handmaidens before returning. Hopefully your mother will be absent so she couldn’t see your wrecked state.

Feeling more refreshed, you stared at your lilac eyes in the mirror. Much lighter than Aegon’s, but your hair was the same, soft waves of white. Cyrella wove your locks into pretty braids. You’d decided to go see Helaena today, since your other lady Jaina had informed you the Dowager Queen was in Aegon’s quarters for the changing of his linens.

Climbing to her chambers you could already hear maddened weeping. You knew Maelor and Jaehaera were largely taken care of by a Septa and wetnurse. Coming into her room you gasped. It was a mess, shredded and priceless items broken. Helaena, her once gorgeous hair— a rats nest. It smelled of unwashed linens and sickness. Sickness of the mind.

“Hel? It’s me, your sister.”

She peered at you with wide purple eyes, red rimmed and shot out. She murmured, “Sister.” Then returned to rocking by the window. You drew closer to her, slowly, eventually kneeling by her side. Helaena only wore a stained shift, dirtied and bloody. You noticed the claw marks on her wrists and sucked in a breath.

“Hel?”

Your elder sister stared forward, mumbling incoherence about blood and cheese cheese and blood blood blood! She shouted the last part at you, making you topple backward some. You grabbed her arm and held tight from her thrashing and wailing, pinning her grief stricken figure to the ground until she stilled.

Helaena howled with agony, “I didn’t know, I’m so sorry, it should’ve been me! Jaehaerys forgive me!” She cried in hoarse agony, shaking underneath. You let her cry until she softly moaned her dead child’s name. Petting her skinny side you murmured, “Let me draw you a bath, okay? Just one. Then I will leave you be.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

You scrubbed her scabbed body, taking care to clean and remove any dirt or budding infection. Helaena stated, “I can’t get clean. It’s under the skin. All of us. Foul blood.” Ignoring her statement you worked on Hel’s scraggly hair while a handmaiden clipped sharpened nails to the nub. It would at the least stop the severity of the wounds.

Helaena’s hair was falling out in thick chunks, you holding back tears as you got her blonde waves back into order. Your elder sister asked, “Will the gods forgive me?” You patted her back and hummed, “The Mother knows your pain, she will take mercy on you. That I know Helaena dear. Let’s get you to bed.”

The room was cleaned and bed changed while you took care of the queen. She stated in that glassy way of hers before you left, “Thank you. The walls will bleed black and scorching sister.”

An uneasy feeling settled in your gut. Hands clenched in your dress you walked through Maegor’s Holdfast, going to see Aegon for the night.

The regal frame of your mother exited as you approached the chamber. She eyed you strangely, but pulled you into a hug with a deep sigh. “It’s horrid around here mummy,” you whimpered. Unbidden tears fell down your cheeks as your mother held you tighter, letting you cry it out.

“All I can do is cry. I feel so alone and half of my family is here mum.”

Her brows furrowed in distress, slim hands on your arms. Alicent said, “You’re doing the best you can dearest. I’m very proud of you. Tending to Aegon, he mentioned you singing to him.”

You smiled gently, but grew teary again.

“I visited Helaena. Washed her and got the room changed. I fear she may…do something drastic mummy. Sh-she’s clawing at her skin, saying she can’t get clean.” Alicent kissed your forehead, hands clasping slim shoulders. “You and Daeron. My sweetest babes. I’ll have to install someone for Helaena. The gods smile upon you and I will pray for your pain. I love you, so, so much. Go be there for him.”

You nodded shakily, hugging your mother again for what felt like forever. It was a temporary balm for your aching soul. She left, presumably to your sister’s quarters. You entered to Aegon who was hazy and trembly after what seemed like a fresh change of linens.

You clambered onto the huge bed, checking Aegon’s face for discomfort. He was barely awake, nodding off in short bursts. His lash’s fluttered over his face. The king murmured, “Oh, it’s been so long. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So long since what my King?”

“I’ve been held, touched, caressed,” he listlessly rambled.

His good hand, already intertwined with yours, drug it toward the bulge between his legs. Aegon cheerily slurred, “S’at red bitch didn’t burn it.” You inhaled sharply, eyes widening. He wanted you to pleasure him? You were a maiden. Aegon’s eyes remained closed but he shot you a dopey grin, “C’mon jus’ a hand will you? Know it’ll be good.”

Your nethers twitched and you looked around like a spy may arrive any second. Oh how you wanted this for life. Aegon wanting you, you only. The guilt for Hel ate at your spine, but lust won out.

“Yes my king, I’ll take care of you.”

“Good girl,” he rasped, head swaying. They must’ve messed up the dosage, Aegon was strangely semi-coherent. You knew there was slick involved in this carnal action. Turning around you found something labeled “aloe” and poured it onto your left hand. Your cheeks began to grow darker at the task at hand.

“Quit bein’ a maiden, M’ready sweets,” he cooed.

You batted his good hand away and unlaced his breeches, pulling out his flushed cock. You whimpered under your breath. It was ruddy and leaking, for you, for you! Hastily you covered the stiff member with your thickly slathered aloe and squeezed tentatively, unsure what to do.

Aegon arched a bit and huffed, “Y’know what to do, playin coy, squeeze and pull, twis’ on the head. I’m burned nuh’ impotent!”

You did as he asked, your hand squelching luridly as Aegon panted and moaned softly. You felt as if you were burning up, an inquisitive hand coming down to cup his heavy sac, his voice growing deeper and more needy.

“There we go, good baby, yesss, yes.”

He was biting his plump lip when your twisting hand focused on the top, liking the way he’d subtly whimper when you’d slide a thumb across the pretty crown. He gasped, “Fuck yes, ah, who brought you up here? Gonna cum!”

Brought you up here? He was delirious, whatever.

“Please my king, come for me,” you begged, so eager to receive his affections. His right hand curled into your waves, pulling you close to his mouth, sharing light kisses, gentle as not to irritate. He panted into your mouth as his cock twitched and spurt onto your hand and his belly.

“Oh, fuck, Selys, Selys baby, thank you. Whoever brought you to me deserves some dragons. Tell the kingsguard to sneak you out, my little sister will be coming, sadly too soon.”

You sat back with a strangled noise, mortification flooding your system. You wiped your disgusting hands all over the covers, soft sobs starting to bubble up. In a rush you pulled back from Aegon’s embrace, belly twisted and chest aching.

“Selys?”

You whimpered, “M’not fucking Selys, why would they bring a whore that could poison you?”

Aegon’s poppy induced state cleared somewhat from shock, him leaning up with a choked noise. He echoed your name, eyes flicking down to his cock and your flushed face, pretty waves, and broken posture. You held yourself tightly and apologized, “I should have known, you were under the poppy, I should’ve just left.”

Aegon struggled further but the pain laid him back down. He sounded desperate, “No, songbird, I-I- I didn’t know, that was sick. Don’t leave me please? You’re all that’s good here.”

“Sadly soon,” you sobbed.

His face crumped in guilt, rage, frustration. You steeled yourself some, compacting that soft gaping maw of love and tenderness for him in a dark place. Maybe to be opened later. Aegon reached for you, pathetically pleading, “Don’t leave me, they always do, don’t.”

“I’ll see if I can seek Selys for you. I thought you wanted me, Aeg. For once.”

He faltered for words, eyes glassy and saddened.

“Good night my King. I’ll send a Maester for more medicine. You strained yourself.”

You ignored the desperate pleas for your name. He really didn’t know any better, you shouldn’t be so cruel. But when your heart was cracked and bleeding on the floor it was hard not to be cold.

Ser Criston was in the hall, making his way for Aegon’s quarters. He did a double take, stopping to peer at your swollen face and mussed hair. You flatly stated, “They didn’t get his dosage right, he’s in pain.” The hand frowned and asked, “What is wrong?”

“I do not wish to speak of it. Where is Prince Regent Aemond?”

Criston stared at you with a look of worry, lips moving in thought. He sighed, “In the library my princess.”

Off your went, holding back sobs of rage and utter sadness.

“Duskmere is ready for battle. Send me to Daeron, the north, wherever. I am tired of sitting around here. I thirst for black blood, brother of mine.”

Aemond stared at you long and hard before his thin lips turned into a calculated smile. The one-eye hummed, “Splendid sister. Was waiting for you to stop mooning over the invalid and our mad sister. We plan later this evening.”

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd smut #aegon ii x reader #angst

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rkmoon · 2 months

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Song of the Heartless - Coming to you May 4, 2024!

That's the date I'm gonna start serializing it on @project-heartless-serial!! Follow and turn on notifications if you'd like?

If you like: *A primarily aromantic cast being unapologetically aro (aspec identities galore!) *a generous sprinkle of body horror and action *focus on a queerplatonic relationship between the MC and their partner *an egg getting cracked and the exploration thereof (if you know you know) *found family *fighting monsters *fighting against an oppressive system *a rainy atmospheric setting

Then you will enjoy this book!

Further details and a sneak peek of the prologue under the cutoff:

Working Title: Project Heartless Genre: Queer, Dystopian Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Horror Length: 118K Tag: #projectheartless

The Heartless are empty of morals– just as nonexistent as their heart. That was what Rainier Sandoval had been taught at an early age. As an Inner City dweller, the barbarism in the Outer District, where the Heartless thrived, was hard to imagine. But when his own heart was stolen and crushed on his twenty-fifth birthday, he was exiled to that very place, forced to see for himself. He had thought he was prepared, but the expectations were so horribly different from the reality. Conspiracies were afoot, and the more he stayed in Outer District, the more he realized he had been lied to his entire life. The monsters he was taught to fear might be Angel City's only hope against threats lurking beyond its borders. In a twist of fate, they might also be Rainier's only hope against his own inner demons.

Prologue

Anger. Pain. Anger. Fear. Anger. Hurt. Pain. Hurt. Scream. Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger. ANGER.

No…

It couldn't think. It felt. It writhed. There was so much pain. Pushing it together.

Its mind was screaming. Its mind was filled with voices. So many people crammed in such a small space. Like a box filled to the brim with half-dead corpses. Anger bubbled inside, never-ending.

It didn't know why. All It knew was the Anger. All It knew was the Pain. From the distance, It could hear a mournful cry. Like a child begging to die. It made the Anger rise, overwhelming. The collective indignance of a thousand souls. It Hurt. It Hurt. It Hurt.

So it ripped. Blood poured out in rivulets. It wanted more. It craved. It hungered.

It felt flesh tear in its hands, but It could not see. It felt blood flow down its arms, but It didn't have any. It heard screams echo inside its head, but there was also someone outside, gasping. Begging. Gurgling.

Screams from the inside. Screams from the outside.

"Rowan!"

"Stay in formation, Will!"

"No— ROWAN!"

"It's coming! Duck!"

"It's too late for him, stay back!"

It heard it. It heard them. Anger surged, so It raged. It fought. But It also wanted to see. It knew It was but a mere voice in the sea of consciousness, but It wanted to see. It wanted to know. The fear that those voices let out, the tremble in their pained gasps. It wanted to know.

Am I the one hurting them?

But the Anger, oh, the Anger — it was all-consuming. It was so filled with Hurt. They were hurting It. In the distance, the Child was weeping. Begging for the torture to end. The Anger won't stop until the Child was set free. But it had been so long. It's been so long, and It wondered what was the point, what was It doing, was throwing back all of this hurt and pain and agony worth it—

It wanted to rest. Because it hurt. Being pressed together like this, it hurt.

We must, we should, we are stronger together, we must destroy, we must avenge, we must save, THEY HAVE NOT LEARNED THEIR LESSON—

"Rowan! No!"

So It kept tearing. It kept killing.

It will not stop.

"No!" A sob. It niggled something inside it. Even as its brethren whispered, even as they jeered and cheered and wanted and laughed and reveled in their cruelty — It heard, and it didn't feel right because the cries, the sobs, the tears—

Isn't that also just a child?

So It climbed, It groped the others. It tore through their consciousness as it tried to get a grip. It wanted to see. It wanted to know. It wanted to See.

It doesn't matter, the others whispered. We are killing. We are avenging.

No.

It pushed everything away. It felt the body moving, it felt the body going for the kill. It felt the body fighting against someone. It couldn't control it, but It persisted. Because It didn't feel right. Because It wanted to See.

It gasped as It got control of the eyes. It opened them for the first time in centuries.

And It saw... a young man, no more than sixteen, looking at It as if It was death personified.

Because It was.

KILL KILL KILL KILL

NO.

Its hands were wrapped around the boy's throat. And It couldn't help but think about life leeching out of the boy's brilliant green eyes.

The boy, the young man, was a human.

It blinked. Memories in the back of Its head surged through its shattered fragments like a fog.

Wasn't It human, once?

What did it mean... to be human?

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neurolady · 1 month

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Do we really need a kiss in s3?

Since Neil has punished us with That gorgeous and devasting moment. Smashing all talk of queer baiting or any doubts as to the nature of their relationship. Is a kiss necessary in s3? Don't get me wrong, if we get a proper romantic unrestrained tongues 'n' all Ineffable husbands snog, you will have to piece me back together atom by atom. Not least because an Azira and Crowley snog also means a Tennant and Sheen snog... and well, just kill me now.

But since the s3 filming announcement, I've been thinking a lot about it. It's not really in keeping with the tone of the show so far. Anathema and Newt, Gabrielle and Beelzebub, Nina and Maggie - none of them have big kissing moments. The romance is built with suggestion, story, score, framing and actors' choices. Maybe it's because I'm also a huge K-drama fan, and some of the best examples in K build some beautiful and convincing romances with no or just one kiss in a 16-24 episode drama.

I think in terms of the Ineffable Husbands, what I want to see more than anything is a closing of the distance between them. Firstly physically, showing them being physically closer to one another, not keeping a safe distance with lots of physical contact, hugs and hand holding galore. Aziraphale really dropping his walls and simply letting Crowley know he loves him and does see them as an 'us' - which I'm convinced was where he was heading at the Bookshop Ball. Crowley accepting that Aziraphale is never going to abandon his responsibilities to run away together - which leads to South Downs as an alternative?!. I'm much more interested in sacrificing a moment or two of comedy to give us some real emotional growth and connection between them (just like the agony of the Final 15) rather than needing to see them kiss.

#in fact the more I think the more I need the South Downs #a kiss will be amazing and life ending #but i just want them HAPPY #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #i don't know #just my thoughts

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thewandererh · 16 days

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💜💙❤️finally designing some jashlings for myself…after a full year of knowing chonny… 👀💦

TW // GOREY CONCEPTS, BLOOD, NOOSE/RED ROPE IMAGRY, DESCRIPTIONS OF AGONY (yummy)

i have pages of designs for the three that i doodled in my school sketchbook, and honestly i can’t pick one so i’m using ✨all of them✨. switching em out yknow?? maybe i accidentally created a bunch of aus instead of characters(??) because they all have loops that happen in different ways, or maybe they *are* the same but in different loops—the chonny paradox. anyways uhm some fellas to mention: nerd mind, merve (<3), deltarune soul, roe, toy-style soul, tadc mind (half an accident), a rabid heart, simon mind, an extremley nonbinary soul…heart with heart-eye glasses but then disruptivevoid reblogged someone’s cute render of the same idea— (honestly, lmao)

the gangs all here !!

but anyways I want to show off one design of soul in particular that has become an extremely fast favorite between me and my fellow rain-jash friend Sluggx!! it’s kinda gorey so i don’t know how to censor it :[, but the image is small so scroll past if the warnings above irk you. but uh. say hi to Dyadracide—a word i coined that means “to kill the duo”

me and my friend sluggx are going FERAL for him,,

ft roe and corona 🔱👑☀️

had the idea of designing a buttload of minds a bit ago, then recently this week i decided the same for soul. doodled him at school, then showed him to my friend via whiteboardfox :]. i draw Dyadra semi different now than there, but all his design is the same. rope neck that coils up inside his body when not in use, oversized pointy teeth (went monochromatik style with human teeth originally but nah), frizzly uhkempt hair, and a trident through his head. he’s always bleeding from the roof of his mouth, whether the trident is retracted into his skull or not. i love him so much😭💛. he has a full body and even a cute little gut but that’s kept for later for now. consider this a teaser of my inner workings :monk_devious:

ive been drawing him *SOOo* muchhh aaugha…can’t wait to show you when i can :]. building a batch of art for a tumblr post that i’ll dump later today maybe. get ready for some fun and gore galore~ (its not too gorey, just the trident-through-head-hes-always-choking-on-his-own-blood concept in full force. yummy ideas have to be explored huhu)

and off i go to have a late brunch. i always write these when i have something else to do lmao. *bites into omelette*

#chonny jash #chonny jash soul #cj soul #chonny jash mind #cj mind #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #baby’s first jashling designs #jashlings #gorey concepts #dyadracide soul #oh god does he have a trident through his face?!#calmly coughs up blood #tadc cj mind?!?!!?#disruptivevoib mention #they shared my calamari fanart 👀💛#late heart mind soul designs #heart mind soul

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callmearcturus · 11 months

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Fan Commentary Double Feature: MI3 and MI: Ghost Protocol

We did it. @interropunct and I have recorded 2 of the 6 threatened commentaries, in which we watch the Mission Impossible movies and talk over them in a way that will provide you all with a simulacrum of how insufferable we are to be in a voice chat with.

We have started with Fan Commentary: Haterade Edition and paired it with Fan Commentary: Stan Mode Edition by doing MI3 and Ghost Protocol as a double feature.

You'll want to hit play on your legal copy of MI3 at 2:58 into the commentary. This commentary includes:

Effusive love of Ethan Hunt, Autistic SuperSpy

Arc definitely not being in a kismesissitude with JJ Abrams

Punct trying to determine when the Maggie Q and Jonathan Rhys Myers' characters actually get named in dialogue in the movie

Thorough discussion of the underutilized kink potential of this movie

"Humpty dumpty sat on the wall" "(SCREAMS OF DISMAY AND AGONY)"

The gloriousness of Ethan Hunt doing physics equations on a window with chalk

The five stages of grief in audio form

The vibes are MST3k and jokes galore and fawning over Ethan Hunt, our babygirl.

However, if you don't need no holleration, hateration in this dancery, proceed directly to the Ghost Protocol commentary and hit play on your legal copy of Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol at 2:47. This commentary includes:

Punct accidentally admitting they find Tom Cruise hot on a live mic

"That's my theory, I think prison turned Ethan from a cat into a dog."

SO MANY BEHIND THE SCENES FACTS ABOUT THE MAKING OF THIS MASTERPIECE

"You know when you think about it, Cascade was the turning point in Homestuck in the same way the Burj Khalifa sequence was--"

Fawning over how small and cute Jeremy Renner is

Discussion of MILF Mode Ethan Hunt

McQuarrie's Actually Very Reasonable Explanation Of Why Hendricks Was Disguised As Wistrom At The Burj, And Goddammit He's Right

"You know what this means?" "You have to watch Teen Wolf now." "No. Fuck you. We have to watch more Tom Cruise movies and compare." "That's true, we do." "No, wait, we just have to go ask @malewifebillcage for a comparative history of Tom Cruise's chest hair."

The vibes are jubilant. We love this fucking movie.

NEXT UP: The double feature of MI2 (the worst movie on a technical level) and MI: Fallout (the best movie on a technical level)

Also I am currently putting copies of this commentary on youtube, check the reblogs later for that.

#mission impossible #mission impossible fun facts #ethan hunt #my fic #(well not really but for organizational purposes)#we worked really hard on this okay pls clap etc

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jonphaedrus · 2 months

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an ode between corridors

Oh! the vagaries and vicissitudes of this unenviable life, in a cell so tightly guarded, restricted from all joys. Here he sat, locked within a cage of kindest making, imprisoned by his loving family, the only solace and succor he had ever known—yet, by their supposed genius they had elected to restrict him from his one true love.

Within, here in his apartments, there was but the finest acoutrements of the congenial life; richly appointed rugs and hanging paintings, the softest of beds, wooden floors gleaming with cleanliness, the attentions of his doting parents, the elderly parishioner, his sweet and energetic brother. Within were fine foods, fresh-caught fish and gravy-soaked liver, ever-flowing pure water from a fountain given only to him, sweetmeats galore.

And yet...

That portal! Oh, that portal! So distinct, so sturdy, so magnificent and large. Spans of white-washed wood, glimmering golden fixtures, draped in tapestries. Had he but the strength of arms he would have wrested it open and been reunited with the world without; had he but the knowledge of its workings he would have cast it from its position for all time, and allowed the world beyond in and himself out. It would upon occasion open, but only briefly, a glimpse of the golden land beyond whetting his appetite for ever more. At those times, rare and precious as they were, he would strain at his bonds, chafed by their restrictions.

No, this elysium he had been granted was not enough! He must have it, that land beyond their tidy walls!

And so he wailed his agonies, venting his spleen at the stars, crying for his beloved family to please, release him, give him that which he needed most, beyond and above all other demands. Not even the finest of foods or the richest of wines could dissuade him, for he called and called, prying at every crack and chink of the portal, demanding exit, entrance, release. Shouts, wails, moans, agonies, vituperation, a ceaseless torrent of sound, all he would give again and again until the portal at last yielded its magics to his howled demands.

And so, finally, Zelos got mommy to let him into the fucking hallway.

#this is a stable writing tag #zelos #no we dont know why.

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serenescribe · 7 months

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POLL RESULTS! (+ updates)

After a week of intense campaigning, along with a whopping 340 votes (!!!), I am pleased to announce the results of the longfic poll, along with what the plan is from now on!

With a whopping 42.1% of the votes, "PMMM AU: Lilia Longfic" is the winner! It started in the lead, and despite having fierce competition from "Starchild," it maintained its first place position till the very end \o/

I must shoutout @hanafubukki in particular for making the poll competition as intense as it was! Without all the "Starchild" campaigning she did, it would have been a walk in the park for the PMMM AU.

So what's next?

Well... I'm still drowning in a sea of uni responsibilities, going into the second half of the semester. (Essays, projects, and exams galore!) With that in mind, I don't have much energy to work on longfics at the moment. Nevertheless, I hope I can get the PMMM AU longfic to you all by the end of the year; I will be considerably freer by December! (In the meantime, I'm gonna try to plot things out with Mica...)

As for "Starchild," given the number of votes it received, I'll be sure to make it my secondary focus and work on it after the PMMM AU fic is done. Like I said previously, it's already 1/3 done, so it should not take too much time to finish the rest. Hopefully I can get the both of these done before my next semester of uni commences in January!

With regards to fic and ficlet requests... I'm still not going to open up longer fic requests since I feel bad that there's still about six of them left in my inbox. However, I've done a lot of catch up on the ficlets, so once I find the time to finish the remaining two ficlet requests, I'll open them up again! They're relatively less strenuous since they're below 1000 words, and I'd still like to write a bit if I can.

Okay, that's about all I can think of. I'll probably be queueing my small stockpile of pre-written ficlets sometime soon, once I get around to editing them. Proper blog management (creating a masterlist for Tumblr fics, possibly crossposting them to AO3, finally doing a fucking write-up on that Dæmon AU I've had for months...) will likely only come after I escape the sea of agony that is uni.

(Thanks for being so patient with me, everyone! c:)

#housekeeping tag #putting that in there since it's important #and my ell rambles tag is more for. rambly things #blog updates important posts and stuff all go into housekeeping~#ahh seems like bthb will be on the backburner till next year. sorry to the bthb fans!

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esper-game · 1 year

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Angst!!!!

MC dies protecting/sacrificing themself for RO's?

Oh wow... angst galore...

(Felt like writing in second person lol hope y'all don't mind <3)

L: Words cannot describe the agony they feel. A million thoughts are flying through their head, though they're all about you. One, single syllable keeps repeating over and over: Why? Why is this happening? Why are you doing this? Why not them? Why couldn't you just let them go? They know they're not worthy of this. They don't even feel worthy of mourning you, it's not like they deserved you anyway. They wish they could turn back time and stop you, make it be them in your place.

S: There's just no way. This can't possibly be happening. They can't lose another person. Especially not you. They can't tear their eyes off you, no matter the pain it causes to see you like this. How could this happen? They tell themself that you'll be okay. That you can't be dead. You wouldn't just leave them. You have to make it. They can't let themself accept the truth. That would be accepting your death.

I: They never cry. It's been years since they cried. They don't cry. But there's no denying the warm, wet tears that fall shamelessly down their cheeks at the sight of your body. It's not fair. It's just not fair. How dare you? How dare you make them care about you this much? Make them happy, learn to hope again? And then to do this. They can't handle it. They can't lose you. They need you. They need you, god damn it.

V: No. That's all they can think. they don't even realise they've said it out loud. A choked whisper, barely audible past the sobs blocking their throat. There was so much they still wanted to do. So much they needed to say. And now they'll never even get the chance. They'll never run their fingers over your face, tracing every minute detail that makes you you. They'll never stay up much too late with you, talking about nothing and feeling everything. They'll never tell you they love you. And that hurts. More than anything in the world. More than they realised anything could hurt. It's unbearable.

Thank you for this heart-breaking ask <3 :')

#esper #esper ask #ask #anon ask #ro ask #angst central #oml #this was heavy #had to keep it vague tho #my love hate relationship with angst tbh

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kaleirots · 11 months

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the funniest thing about destiel fic is how sam is the agony aunt/counsellor/problem solver/wingman/emotional support moose in every universe

like sure sam winchester has anger issues and trauma galore but more importantly, he's an 🏳️‍🌈 ALLY 🏳️‍🌈

#this is backed up by canon too as per that one scene where he gets deancas to talk after hours of the silent treatment #sam OK ENOUGH winchester the destiel whisperer #destiel #spn

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blorbologist · 1 year

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hello did you say something about a lotr style retelling of campaign one???? if you're willing please do tell

Hi anon - this one likely won't be written for ages yet, I'd be happy to <3

So it's a very amorphous idea (like my Filles du roi AU) because I want to reread the books front to back before touching the project. But the ghist of it is that it'd be a mythological retelling of Campaign 1 with a similar framework to LOTR - a book built from the accounts of a few characters and them getting accounts from their friends / likely flat-out imagining some shit (hard to get a Sauron POV), written in prose of Tolkien's style. Characters will sing beautiful songs mid-battle, the hearts of men and their like are fundamentally good, and etc.

Here's the thing: Scanlan is the primary author, here, so he deliberately exaggerated and switched up a lot for the sake of the story. It might actually follow TLOVM's plot more closely than canon, because it already does a lot of the streamlining he would want to do.

I figure he only publishes this in his old age - when only he, Keyleth and Pike are left - and the girls both think the rest of the party would be delighted by this story so they don't go out of their way to correct it. Also Scanlan clearly worked hard on it with all the prose, illustrations, poetry and songs - it's a love letter to Vox Machina. (Some sections are from Vex when she was still around, with notes she got from Percy's journals. Tbh half the poetry is his, and all the Celestial.) There are also probably contributions (coughcorrectionscough) by Keyleth and Pike.

BUT ENOUGH WITH THE SAD SHIT

The main problem would be finding the right balance of LOTR elements and nailing the writing style. But I'm excited!

My thoughts so far include:

Given this is Scanlan writing this story, he and Pike are the main characters, taking up elements of Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Making them get separated and be present for the reclaiming of Whitestone (battle of Pelennor Fields, Merry & Pip) and their bond being pivotal to defeating the dark lord (Frodo and Sam. Pike doing the 'but I can carry you' thing <33)

Percy just... is Aragorn. It's stupid perfect for him: heir to an empire fallen from grace heavily associated with white and trees, hello?? Except all his names are part of his full name, not a host of aliases and titles.

Vex would likely be a combination of Faramir (ranger of Gondor, daddy issues galore) and Éowyn (I AM NO MAN, close friendship to one of the hobbits/gnomes, Trinket could be her horse). Both of them have a close bond with a brother that makes things absolutely heartbreaking. Except given she’s both Faramir and Éowyn she gets to smooch Percy-Aragorn, and their roles in the House of Healing are swapped (true love's crit).

Vax would likewise steal elements from Frodo (tragic bearer of the burden, cannot really go home) and Boromir :)

Keyleth and Grog neatly slot in with Percy as the Three Hunters. Grog and Percy n Kiki and Grog friendship time <33

Scanlan compresses the timeline so multiple great forces of evil act at the same time. Vecna is obviously Sauronlike, with a great evil land of evil. Undecided if the Briarwoods are Saruman (manipulation, sorta serve the great evil for their purposes) or Denethor (stewards of the white city, motivated by despair and in a twisted way love). Conclave could be akin to the Nazgul, or Saruman (Raishan namely, plus Saruman of the Many Colors = Chroma Conclave).

Look getting the balance Right between LOTR and CR and TLOVM is gonna be a bitch is what I'm saying, but taking some elements from LOTR would make it more fun.

Anyways apparently the theatrical edition doesn't include Éomer's cry of agony when he finds Éowyn on the battlefield???? Or Pippin looking for Merry amidst the corpses long after dark? I only ever watch the Extended Edition so im Heartbroken :c

Anyways watch this and think of the Twins (Éomer and Éowyn), Percy (Aragorn), and Pike & Scanlan (Merry & Pip):

youtube

#critical role #campaign 1 spoilers #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #lotr #the lord of the rings #OH SHIT I GOTTA GET TO THE LAB SOON BYE

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