#and then he's gonna be this source of terror for her as she tries to navigate the war

[dirtytransmasc]

hey there, cool blog <3 I love reading your takes on things

so I wanted to ask your take on larycent and what you think we’ll see in season 2

(wrote this whole thing out and then my computer died before I could post it. my first attempt at this was much better. this is cruel and unusual punishment, this whole thing is now infused with anger. not towards you, just in general.)

I should first start off by saying, thank you, I'm so happy you like reading my stuff, second off, I'll say I may be one of the worst people to ask, cause Larys is one of those characters I hate so much, plot be damned, he could choke on one of his stupid flowers within the first 5 minutes of season 2 and I couldn't give less of a shit. I'm not typically like that with characters, I tend to try and give a character enough grace to care about their place in plot, but Larys just makes me that angry. despite this, I will try to be appropriately opinionated and give you a proper answer lol.

from a story point of view their dynamic is fascinating. here's this guy with such little standing (compared to her as queen) who wields so much power against her. it starts out when she is young and alone, he spots this weakness and befriends her, giving her information, gives her company she so longs for, slowly spinning this web around her. then as she gets older, he becomes a sort of confidant, biding his time, until he finds the right moment to strike. he bends her words, given in great trust and secrecy, most likely not the first dangerous secret they've shared, and uses it to 'justify' (he didn't need her command to do it, he just waited to do it in a way that he could hold her accountable for it) killing his father and brother. this gives him power, he can use this against her, to keep her close. he's piled up blackmail at this point, he's got her bound in his web of secrets, she can't leave.

she knows he's dangerous now, she has to keep him close, or he could hurt her, her kids, her image, the people around her.

the other thing is, he gets off on it all. he gets off on bringing her to his level, by stripping her of her agency as queen so that way they are equals.

then by some means, he gets her to give herself up in a sexual manner. he had already been doing this, in a way; I vaguely remember some sort of statement or interview from Matthew Needham about how Larys gets off on bringing her down, on filling her with shame and guilt, on making her feel dirty. so getting her to truthfully give herself up to him for whether it be to keep him satisfied (I'll come back to this point in a second) or for information, gives him the ultimate gratification.

he was like a parasite, taking and taking and taking from her until he was satisfied. she couldn't get rid of him, as he posed a threat to her and others, she couldn't ignore him because then he would act out and be a threat. he had to be kept satisfied. she had to give him a purpose, a use, an outlet to feel like he had power. like a dog, if he was left to himself, he would grow bored and unruly, she had to offer herself to keep him entertained.

both Olivia and Matthew played this dynamic out so well. Matthew played Larys so slimey and gross and just irksome, I was uncomfortable whenever he was on screen. Olivia played Alicent's discomfort and forced compliance so well, I just felt insanely bad the whole time.

it really built Larys up as this thinly veiled evil, he could be... well behaved and friendly, he could be useful, he could be an ally of sorts, all for a price, and if that price went unpaid or he felt undervalued, he could quickly become something so downright awful. he could be something downright evil if he wanted to really, that he was willing to bend words and step on toes (ironically) to get what he wanted and show off his power.

it also built up Alicent, adding onto her list of horrors in life, and putting her in this power limbo. she was queen, yet she was felled by this nobleman, brought down to his level if not lower. while some (*ahem* team black stans *cough cough*) saught to demonize her for her suffering, it really led me to sympathize with her more than before. she had suffered this mans sick and twisted game since she was a child, and he shows no signs of stopping. she's always stepping around fear, knowing the monster she let into her chambers, unable to get him out.

so, outside of the fact that I hate to see my girl suffering so horrible, I can't say I love their dynamic, but I don't hate it... its like, so horrible but so interesting, and I hate it not because it's poorly done or unnecessary, it just makes me feel gross and horrible. 10/10 characterization, 10/10 portrayal, 10/10 plot building -100/10 making me feel nice lmao.

onto predictions: I think she's going to attempt to stand up to him and fail. at the end of season 1 we see her lose Viserys (abuser number 1) and stand up to Otto (abuser number 2) finally putting him in his place after years of biting her tongue to him, acting against him (ordering Aegon be brought to her, that the crowning of aegon/treatment of Rhaenyra be under her command, etc,). I think she'll attempt to continue this pattern and stand up to Larys, who has been nothing but an aching wound in her side.

its only then that he will truly show how evil he can be. he will show his anger, his wrath, the power he holds over her head. he has years of blackmail against her, he will make this evident. it wouldn't surprise me if we get a scene paralleling Daemon and Rhaenyra and the choking scene, if even if only slightly. he will do something to make her keep him at her side. I think he will be the first to bring true horror to our girl. we have seen fear, strife, anxiety, worry, and disbelief, but we have not seen horror. truthfully, I think he's the only one I believe capable of doing that to her.

he is happy to remain sat loyally at her feet (again, the irony) so long as she respects him and lets him use her to get off when he pleases, so after his little show of power, when he instills fear into her once more, he will lie back down like a good little parasitic inside man, while she waits in fear, forever caught in his web. it brings this new air of sick and twisted to it all; his true self has been revealed, he can no longer be looked at with any level of incapacity or harmlessness (not that he really could before, but I don't really know how to describe what I'm thinking of in any other way), yet he reverts back to his normal self. he may be more assertive of his power over her, his word may have a sharper edge to them, but he will still play his role as her obedient servant, while she suffers the stresses of it all.

its this forced 'trust' Alicent is forced to reenter that will keep him at her side up until the end of it (I believe they separate when he is to smuggle Maelor out of the city, but I'm not sure if/when Maelor will be brought into the city, so we'll see how that goes) and I think that dynamic will be equally awful as it is interesting to watch play out.

#important note: I have only skimmed the book so all I really know about Larys is from the show #he's just such a vile monstrous person to me #I can barely get myself to like him form a character/plot aspect #I just hate him and want him dead #the dynamic he has with my girl destroys me #but I will concede that they are portrayed on a godly level #its so well done #props to #matthew needham #and #olivia cooke #but yeah #I think she's gonna try and stand up to him and he is not going to take it well at all #he's gonna sink his teeth deeper into her and she's not gonna be able to really do anything about it #and then he's gonna be this source of terror for her as she tries to navigate the war #knowing very intimately on multiple levels what he's capable and just having to accept that as her new reality #just like she had when he killed his father/brother #evil evil man doing evil evil things #he's gonna be scary #larys strong #alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #anti larys strong #house of the dragon #hotd #trying to give Larys my due diligence for analysis and discourse purposes is going to be the death of me #but I tried my best for you <3

[sturnish]

౨ৎ GHOST FACE ౨ৎ || ⋆౨ৎ˚ NATE DOE⋆౨ৎ˚ || MasterList ||

ᡣ𐭩 | Warnings - Smut

ᡣ𐭩 | Summary - Y/n finds Nate with the ghostface mask

Innocent, wide-eyed, and a bit breathless, Y/n stumbles through the darkened house. Her bare feet slip on the hardwood floor as she frantically searches for the front door. She doesn't know why she's so frightened, but she just knows she needs to get away. Her heart is racing as she rounds a corner and comes face-to-face with the source of her terror: Nate Doe, the boy she's known since they were kids. He stands there in the shadows, the infamous Ghostface mask obscuring his features. Blood drips from his hands and stains his white t-shirt as he washes his face in the sink.

She lets out a small gasp, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. Nate freezes, his head snapping up to look at her. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flashes across his face - a mix of anger and regret. He takes a step towards her, the hardwood floor creaking beneath his weight. Y/n's breath hitches in her throat as she takes an instinctive step back, her back pressing against a nearby wall.

"Y/n," he whispers, his voice low and threatening. "Why did you have to see me like this?" His gaze flicks down to her body, assessing her in a way that makes her feel exposed and vulnerable. "You shouldn't have come here." Her heart pounds even faster as he takes another step closer, the mask's expressionless eyeholes seeming to bore into her soul. She tries to speak, but no words come out as she feels his strong hands grip her wrists, pinning her arms above her head. "I could've been anyone," he says, his voice cold and hard. "And you'd be mine."

His words send a shiver down her spine, but it's not the kind of fear that makes her want to run away. It's a strange, twisted kind of excitement that courses through her veins. She tries to resist, but something deep inside her tells her that she wants this. She wants him. Even if he's dressed as Ghostface, even if he's covered in blood, even if he's the one who frightened her in the first place.

With a harsh growl, he roughly spins her around, pressing her body against the wall. His erection digs painfully into her lower back as he thrusts his hips forward, grinding against her. "You want this, don't you?" he whispers in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You want me to take what's mine."

She feels his free hand snake down between their bodies, roughly parting her folds. "Yes," she whispers, arching her back as he fingers her roughly. "Please, Nate." His touch is possessive and demanding, but it's also so good that she can't help but respond. She feels a rush of wetness between her legs as he continues to stroke her, his fingers curling roughly inside her.

He growls, his hips bucking harder against her as he pushes her down further onto his erection. "You're mine," he hisses, "and I'm gonna take what's mine." With one final thrust, he buries himself inside her, filling her up completely. She cries out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to pound into her, her body rocking back and forth against the wall with each powerful thrust.

The roughness of the wall against her back, the feel of his hands gripping her hips, the taste of his blood on his lips, it all mixes together in a heady rush of sensation. She arches her back, meeting his movements with equal fervor, their bodies moving as one. He groans, his hot breath fanning across her neck as he finds her rhythm, his hips snapping harder, faster.

The air in the room grows thick with their combined desire, with the musky scent of arousal and the faint metallic taste of blood. Y/n digs her nails into his shoulders, her head thrown back as she lets out a long, shuddering moan. She feels the familiar tightening in her core, the building pressure that tells her she's close.

With a final, hard thrust, Nate stills inside her, his body tense as he releases himself deep inside.

Her back arches off the wall, a low moan escaping her lips as she feels the familiar tightening in her core, the rush of pleasure that washes over her. Her nails dig into his shoulders, her hips moving in time with his thrusts as she tries to draw out the sensation for as long as possible.

Nate's breathing is ragged, his chest heaving as he holds himself inside her, their bodies still joined in an intimate dance. His hands slide down to her hips, holding her steady as he leans in to press a kiss to her neck. "You're so fucking perfect," he whispers, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n's body trembles with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but she doesn't want this to end. She wraps her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his lower back as she urges him to move again. He responds with a growl, his hips snapping forward, his cock stretching her in a way that feels both impossibly good and impossibly right.

She reaches up, tangling her fingers in his blood-soaked hair, pulling his mouth down to hers. Their lips meet in a messy, urgent kiss as their bodies move together, lost in the rhythm of desire. He tastes like sweat and blood and something else that is uniquely Nate. She sucks on his tongue, feeling the muscles in his arms and chest tighten beneath her touch.

He groans, his movements growing more frantic as he nears his next release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his hips snapping faster. She arches her back off the wall, her nails digging into his shoulders as she meets his thrusts with her own, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The air in the room grows thick with their combined breath, with the sound of skin slapping against skin, with the harsh, ragged gasps of pleasure.

Her world narrows down to the feel of him inside her, the taste of his blood on her tongue, the sound of his harsh breath in her ear. She can feel every inch of him, every hard ridge, every soft curve, as if he were a part of her own body. With a final, shuddering cry, he releases himself deep inside her, his hips bucking hard as he comes, his seed spilling out onto the floor between them.

She collapses forward, her weight pressing down on his shoulders as their bodies cool and the rush of adrenaline begins to ebb away. He holds her close, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back as they catch their breath. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. "And I'll always protect what's mine."

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #nathan doe #nate doe #nate doe smut #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe smut #nathan doe x you #nathan doe imagine #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader

[zinzinina]

okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him. 

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA. 

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship. 

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says. 

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself. 

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried. 

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas. 

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?” 

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm. 

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy. 

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts. 

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed. 

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue. 

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself. 

He wants to be inside her. 

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit. 

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together). 

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him. 

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs. 

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs. 

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance? 

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow. 

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind. 

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism. 

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says. 

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it. 

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly. 

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking. 

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly. 

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit. 

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know. 

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet. 

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars. 

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so. 

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…” 

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.” 

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it. 

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be. 

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once. 

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed. 

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt. 

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore. 

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #from a certain point of view ask game #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron fanfic #star wars fanfic

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Thinking about TMA and the LOV as avatars based on how I interpret the characters

Twice: The Spiral, though his quirk also lends itself to the Stranger, Twice's greatest source of fear is not knowing his own mind or how to make sense of the reality around him. He is a living fractal through his quirk, and that has both destroyed him and lent him great power. That's an avatar of the Spiral baby!

Toga: The Corruption, rather than focusing on the crawling, decaying, infections, the aspect that calls to her, of course, is the consuming love that the Corruption offers. She has had the way she expresses her love called horrifying and disgusting all her life, to be part of an Other that loves her in the same vein-deep way that she has always craved would make her accepting of any other horror it bestowed in her, even if maggots under her skin isn't very cute.

Spinner: Spinner is interesting because I think that the Lonely would want him and would have tried to claim him. But (TMA spoilers) just like Martin, he would actually fight it off to be claimed by the Eye instead. His connections to the Lonely are obvious, he was isolated and discriminated against for his whole life and was in danger of slipping away into nothing for so long. However, the Lonely can be defeated by hanging onto the bonds we have with those we love, and Spinner loves the League. He follows Shigaraki, he believes in his companions' abilities, and he knows that despite not being as strong/useful/driven as them, he can stand at their side and be content watching them reach their goals (MLA arc), which is why he becomes an avatar of the Eye.

Compress: Although he is smart as hell, Mr. Compress is not an avatar of the Web. The Web is antithetical to his belief that everyone should choose their own values and not have them chosen for them. And while he might have fun performing at the Stranger's circus, he wouldn't fit in there either. Compress would also be an avatar of the Eye with Spinner. He catches and misdirects attention and has a vested interest in ensuring that his companions' stories play out even at the cost of his own (PLF War).

Dabi: Despite Dabi being all about fire and burning those who have wronged him, he is NOT an avatar of the Desolation. Which i am gonna explain a bit. So the Desolation is the fear of loss, pain, suffering, and destruction but especially senseless destruction and avatars of this entity love to destroy things to stop them from ever reaching their true potential. And that is the opposite of a lot of Dabi's motivations. He hates the fact that Shoto has a miracle quirk and won't ever push himself as hard as Dabi thinks he should to put that potiential to good use, it disgusts and enrages him. He is not about senseless violence. His acts of terror are planned out and focused to ensure maximum effectiveness, even when he is burning random villains, he did that to make himself a worse criminal so that during his reveal, he would damage Endeavor's legacy even more. That is deliberate, and he has had this plan in the works for nearly a decade, so I propose that Dabi is an avatar of the Web. Not only has he been planning his revenge for years, but he believes that his fate was sealed for him the moment he was born and that nothing can change that path. Additionally during the PLF War arc and his fight with Hawks, he points out how he was overlooked even as he set things up in the background to ultimately set up his confrontation with his father, and in the Summer Camp arc he was made the leader of the mission which shows that Shigaraki also considers him a suitable tactician and leader. The Web suits him.

Shigaraki: While I did consider the Slaughter and the End, I ultimately think that Shigaraki would be an avatar of the Desolation. The Slaughter was dismissed because that fear focuses on sudden, unprompted violence. While the Slaughter might have started to get its claws into him when he killed his family, it cannot contain the deliberate destruction that he has cultivated throughout the rest of his life. Additionally, the End is inevitable and patient, all things will die, and it takes no great joy in that fact, it simply is-- which is way, way too passive for Shigaraki. He is seeking to create a new world by destroying the previous one and he revels in that destruction as he brings it. He is passionate, ruthless, and dedicated-- which also draws other people in to follow and even worship him even after being partially destroyed by him (see Re-Destro). That is the Lightless Flame drawing in a new crop of moths if I've ever seen one.

#i am not accepting constructive criticism if you dont like these dont tell me! 😊 #tanco speaks

[brendathedoodler]

I'm gonna ask about AS Four, but more specifically, please tell me about Shadow? I'm so curious how he plays a role in Four's adventure here

I’m happy to elaborate!

Shadow takes the place of several others. He takes on Impa’s role of giving Four help and direction, but acts as a closer companion by traveling with him most of the time. He also acts like the next gen champions in that he helps Four get to the divine beasts.

Shadow first spawned into existence when Four fell to the guardians, springing up as the calamity’s soldier. He exists to torment and mock an already devastated land, and for the first few years that’s exactly what he did. He’s done horrible things, burned towns to the ground, stalked lone travelers who dared walk alone at night, destroying the crops that people needed to live off of.

The thing is, Shadow wasn’t really a person then. He was merely a puppet on strings, following his task as it was assigned. Dot took it upon herself to try and sever those strings, wanting to stop her people from suffering as much as she could.

Slowly Shadow went from a simple tool to someone who could think, feel, and respond to the world around him. His reign of terror shifted to something more mischievous. Instead of trying to hunt lone travelers at night, he simply tries to scare them.

As his connection to the calamity grew weaker, he became more independent, until there was just a small thread connecting him to his original source. This was something Dot couldn’t sever on her own, so she decided to try and talk with him.

He disliked her at first, furious that she’d dare imply he’d betray his creator, but time passed and he began to see her as a friend. She talked about the beauty of the land and its people, and he spent time traveling and exploring. He fell in love with the world, and fell in love with the idea of being alive, of being a person. He severed that last tie himself, and agreed to help her stop the calamity when the hero woke up.

If he woke up. 100 years was a long time to wait.

When Four did wake up, the first thing Shadow set about doing was finding something to help him get down from the plateau. By the time he found the glider and arrived to say hi to Four, Four had made decent progress and all of them were currently arguing over what color the tower should be. He showed up to see it glowing green, then blue, then red, then green again, then red, then violet, then green (again), then blue, red, blue, red, blue, GREEN, blue, violet-

Shadow gets to the top of the tower to see them all smacking their slates together on the middle pedestal like it’s some sort of angry bumper cars game. There’s lots of hair pulling and shoving involved. All of them are arguing. The only person wearing anything more than underpants is red, who got the warm doublet. Shadow has to process the fact that there’s four of him and also what they’re all currently arguing. He’s half tempted to just float away.

Anyway they eventually notice him and draw their weapons (which consist of two boko bats (Red and Green), a hammer (Blue), and a boko bow (Vio)). The tower was left on blue.

He does manage to explain, and Dot uses some energy to inform them that yes, she trusts him, and he’s there to help. They reluctantly agree, and Shadow joins the party.

After terrorizing the people for a decade, stories have been passed about him, so whenever they go into a town, he hides in their shadow (usually Vio’s, but sometimes someone else’s). He helps them with where to go, and assists in getting them onto the divine beast. He also tries to help them practice when they’re combined, usually by settling little disputes or helping with decisions that could end with him splitting. He can’t help in shrines, though, which is another reason why Four avoids them at first (the other reason being that he’s forced to be combined, which is difficult at first).

Another big thing Shadow does occurs later in the journey. They’ve defeated the first divine beast, but it was a close battle. They freed the spirit of the champion (somebody they hadn’t known well to begin with) and Blue gets the power from Vah Ruta, though it’s something they all have access to as Four.

Anyway, they decide they need more practice being combined, but after that near defeat they’re all stressed and prone to arguing. Shadow suggests they explore a little to relax before they work on teamwork. A break could really do them some good.

Anyway, they end up at Gerudo town.

Being too far apart from one another causes them a lot of emotional distress, but so long as they stay in the same map zone they should be fine, so they agree to stay at the desert for awhile.

Green goes off and kills some moldugas (for fun and for profit). Red and Blue get Gerudo vai clothes (and don’t tell the others how they’re getting into the town). Red does some quests for people in town and impulsively spends all their money on arrows, then sells all their molduga guts and buys more arrows (much to Green’s frustration). Blue meanwhile scams some random guy out of several pairs of boots and immediately gets them dyed blue so nobody else will use them.

Vio? Well, he goes exploring and ends up at the Yiga’s camp. He stays hidden, but Shadow gets caught. The thing is, since he’s a fragment of the calamity, the Yiga are 100% on board with following him. They believe that his words are the words of their master, and Shadow absolutely plays along. He ends up ‘capturing’ Vio, and then claims that he’s “convinced this fragment of the hero to join the side of darkness!” and the two end up ‘ruling’ the Yiga clan together (but in reality are working to take it down from the inside).

Anyway, when the other three go looking for Vio they end up uncovering this, and the whole scheme is blown. They do manage to take down the leader of the Yiga though, and end up blowing the entire place up. It’ll be awhile before the Yiga are able to retaliate, which is good for them! With that all done, they proceed to the next divine beast (Vah Naboris).

At the end of the quest the four split up, teleporting to the divine beasts. They fire upon the calamity, and then teleport to the castle to regroup, combine, and fight it once and for all. Shadow tries to help, but is near useless in the fight. It’s up to Four and Dot now.

In the end, they win. Exhausted and battered, but victorious. Shadow knew that the end of the calamity would mean his source of power dwindled, but he expected to vanish completely. Shadow made sure to say goodbye as the calamity fell.

But he didn’t vanish, not completely. His energy was drained, but he did not die.

Nowadays he spends most of his time resting in Four’s shadow, only partially conscious but able to use his powers to speak with him mentally (much like the colors do when they’re combined as Four). Exiting Four’s shadow and using his physical form is exhausting, but he does it when he has the energy. Blood moons still occur despite the calamity’s defeat, and Shadow gets a burst of power from it. He always utilizes it to spend time with Four, and it’s become something they both look forward to.

Shadow tags along during Four’s next adventure with the chain, but Four hasn’t mentioned him to the others yet.

#I haven’t yet decided how Shadow’s reveal will go #thanks for the ask!! #linked universe #lu adventure swap au #lu au #lu four #lu shadow #lu green #lu red #lu blue #lu vio #also I will say that Shadow and Four are a canon couple but I’ll probably elaborate on that separately #that way people who aren’t a fan of the ship don’t have to have it #another thing I haven’t decided on yet is what abilities Four will gain from the divine beasts #not sure if they should be the same things Wild gets in botw or not #also unsure of whether to incorporate the champion abilities into AS Wild’s skillset or not #so many choices

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

Day 3 - Stitches and Bandages

Synopsis: Couple months into Isaac's captivity, his pride is like gone lol. Submits himself to vivisection in order to keep his blanket :)

Content: Vivisection, gore, I'm gonna say it again there is vivisection and gore, immortal whumpee, whumper turned whumpee but it doesn't really come up here, a lot of invasive feeling stuff this is vivisection after all, blindfolded guy, broken whumpee

Tagging: @whump-in-the-closet @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @eric-the-bmo @befuddled-calico-whump

—

The blindfold was a mercy, he supposed.

It didn’t feel like one. If he didn’t want to look, he would have closed his eyes—but now, he didn’t even get that choice.

Isaac had never thought that there was anything more terrifying than the darkness and the silence, but he had a sinking feeling that he was going to be proven very, very wrong.

He struggled against the ropes binding him to the table but made no attempts to beg for release. Because he chose this. Maybe this was a fool’s choice, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to earn back his only source of comfort.

Kasumi promised him that she’d give him the blanket back after this, and it was all Isaac could hope for that she’d keep it.

“Hmm. I’ve never done this before,” Kasumi remarked, a laugh at the edge of her words.

Isaac swallowed nervously. The pit in his stomach only got deeper.

He wasn’t prepared for the first slice across his torso, and he would never be. The cold scalpel glided across his chest, cutting through skin and emaciated muscle.

Sharp fingernails dug into the incisions. His panic rose, his heartbeat like a beating drum. He felt the tearing of flesh and then a sudden cold. It was getting hard to breathe.

He tried his best to not scream.

His best was a whimper, let out between choked gasps and incoherent pleas.

A finger lightly traced one of his broken ribs, barely felt but still horrific. He was frozen in the grip of fear, save for the tremors that racked him. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening— Why was this happening?

“God, that’s fucked,” Kasumi murmured, awe in her every word.

Isaac could hear her smile and her glee.

A knife ran over his empty, aching stomach. He felt what was left of his chest tighten, every muscle tensing. Don't, don't don't please—

Kasumi hummed as she dragged the scalpel down to his intestines, leaving a long, shallow cut in her wake. Isaac was hyperventilating now, lungs rising and falling rapidly.

"You're awfully quiet now, aren't you?" she teased. She lifted the scalpel, and for a moment, Isaac could almost breathe.

It came down in his liver.

The pain was sharp and instant, a burst of agony that stole his breath as he coughed and hacked for air. He spasmed on the table, trying to get away, even when he logically knew it was useless.

Kasumi laughed a mirthless laugh and pulled out the blade. Somehow it made Isaac feel worse, head spinning and bright colors flashing behind his eyes, joining the tears.

"That," she remarked, "was nothing." The scalpel pressed down on his lungs, not enough to leave an incision but enough to make Isaac freeze in terror.

She pushed the blade down, ripping through flesh and tissue, and Isaac screamed with all the breath he had left. "This? This is only the beginning."

—

It felt like hours. How long had it been? No, it didn't matter. Agony had a way of blending time together, and Isaac couldn't say if it's been 3 hours or 3 days.

He could barely breathe, and his head pounded in rhythm with his rapidly-beating heart. His viscera was alight with pain, and he wanted to beg for it to stop but he couldn't gather the breath to form the words.

Kasumi was saying something, but he couldn't really hear her. He needed to listen.

He couldn't. It hurt too much.

Something sharp lodged itself in his abdomen—he couldn't tell exactly where, because everything hurt the same. It felt…different from the scalpel, but maybe his nerves were just fried.

It didn't leave, though.

Not even as Kasumi folded his chest back together and started to stitch up the incisions.

Tiny little pinpricks making their way up his torso.

He tensed and shuddered at the constant, tiny bits of pain, the way the needle dug into his skin and pulled it together. It set his nerves alight, and he needed to get away but he couldn't, he was trapped here. Trapped, with no real way to escape.

He sobbed quietly in between gasps for air as she roughly sewed his wounds shut.

Then the ropes loosened, falling to the floor with a quiet thud.

Isaac got to savor the freedom for a moment before hands shoved him off the table. With a cry, he crashed onto the floor. The sharp thing still embedded inside him jolted, and he screamed, mind going blank and vision turning from black to white.

When the throbbing started to fade and the tear-stained blindfold came back into view, he curled in on himself, careful to not injure himself again.

He heard the door open with a creak, and Kasumi's footsteps as she walked away. The tangled knot inside of him seemed to loosen with every step she took away from him.

Though she returned as quickly as she came, and Isaac panicked, wondering if he did something wrong—

But no. She draped a thin, bloodstained blanket over him, and Isaac clutched it tightly, not wanting to let go.

Worth it. Was it worth it?

It had to be worth it.

Kasumi tapped her foot impatiently. "Well?"

Isaac hesitated. "…Thank you," he muttered, voice stiff from resentment and disuse.

"There." She reached down and pulled the blindfold off of him, and Isaac shut his eyes tightly as the bright fluorescent lights of the cell came into view.

"And by the way," she ordered, "I expect you to clean this up once you wake up."

She walked out of the cell, leaving Isaac with only silence, pain, and the smallest bit of warmth to mull over.

—

AN: Ahahahaha and this is only the first part :D

I love being evil to Isaac. and posting writings with absolutely none of the proper context. Look if you read this and you're like "what? how did we get here?" you can message me. I can infodump or summarize the possibly missing context as you please <2

#whump #whump writing #vivisection #immortal whump #immortal whumpee #gore #tw gore #broken whumpee #I don't like the term but like. that's the popular one and I'd like for people to find this #wij23day3 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #oc isaac #oc kasumi #my ocs <2 #my writing #kasumi is in her girlboss era #shes sooooo #also isaac is so fun to torment :D ahahahahaha

[ironcladrhett]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Hemlock Ridge, Seven Peaks SUMMARY: Ophelia is set on a dark, familiar path. This is the final chapter! CONTENT WARNINGS: Parental death

—

“Mamá? I brought breakfast!” The young hesperide bounded up to her mother’s home, a wide smile plastered across her face. A woven bag of berries bounced in her hand, and another had a few pastries from old Timber’s little bakery stand down on the ground level of the aos sí—ovens didn’t fare well this high up in the trees. “Hey, have you been out yet? I was trying to find Reginald to get some of his fresh juice for us, but no one’s seen him since yesterday—”

She pushed through the mossy door covering, her gaze sweeping across the living area of the home and finding it empty. “��Mamá! ¿Dónde estás?” Moving deeper into the home, the girl noted the two mugs still left on the small table in the sitting area, smirking to herself. She went to the kitchen, setting her bags down on the table and putting her hands on her hips, glancing around the space. There was still some mess from the night before left over—that was unusual. Mom must have been… distracted. The thought made her heartbeat kick up a notch, fluttering hopefully in her chest as she continued to search the house. Maybe he hadn’t gone back to his own cabin last night? Maybe they’d gone out? Unfortunately, her mother never saw the point of having a phone, and Rhett’s was deader than dead, so she had no way of contacting either of them. As much as she hoped they’d rekindled whatever kind of affection for one another that they could muster last night, she also felt a twinge of annoyance at being left in the dark. 

“Mom,” she called a bit more sternly, “If you guys ditched me today I’m gonna be so mad.” They were nowhere to be found in the home, and the last place to look was the bedroom. Ophelia sighed, now regretting her hopefulness a little bit. This was not something she wanted to be aware of, thanks very much. Keeping her eyes averted, she rapped her knuckles on the wall beside the entrance to the bedroom. “Hey! Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to rattle yer dags!” 

Silence.

Now fully shifting to annoyed, Ophelia let out a huff and pushed through the hanging moss to step into the room. “Mom! Did you seriously leave without—” 

There was something in the bed. Someone. A dark, winged figure, splayed out in twisted bedding like a Renaissance painting. Ophelia’s words caught in her throat and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, her eyes going wide. Her mother, she wasn’t asleep, she was—she was—

A frantic scream was wrenched from the young nymph’s lungs, her glamour dropping and bathing the room in a blinding light, illuminating the horrific scene. Her mother had been stabbed multiple times, and old blood covered her torso and stained the bedding a dark reddish black. There was more blood, a trail of it, leading out the way she’d come. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was as clear as day. “¡Mamá!” The girl wailed, grabbing her mother by the shoulders and shaking her, as if that would help. “No! No, wake up!” 

Her screams attracted the attention of their closest neighbor, Avery, a sylph. The older nymph came hurrying into the home, heading right for the source of the sound and letting out their own mournful whimper as they gathered Ophelia in their arms, pulling her away from the corpse on the bed. They tried to calm her, but it was no use, she was inconsolable. When the hesperide fought them off, returning to her mother’s side, Avery let out a wavering sigh and wiped the tears from their eyes, looking around the room to see if they could make any sense of what had happened. 

They noticed a folded bit of paper left on the nightstand, and reached for it. Flipping it open, there was a hastily written note inside. It read, ‘We’ve taken him to a place where he will answer for all the terrors he’s committed against fae. He never should have been brought here, he put us all in danger. Mariela tried to stop us, but we couldn’t let the needs of the many outweigh the wants of the one.’

Fuck. They looked at Ophelia sobbing over her mother’s body, then back to the note, wondering if it was even worth giving to her. Was it better for her to believe her father had done this? Yes, there’d been fae in the aos sí that were vocal about their dislike of the warden’s presence, and while Avery had never felt very certain about it either, they had trusted Mariela’s judgment.

The choice was taken from them when Ophelia noticed the bit of paper in their shaking hand, snatching it away from them and devouring the words inside. 

“What… what? Fae did this?” She choked back another sob, getting to her feet and crumpling up the note, throwing it across the room. “Did you know about this?!” she accused Avery, who held up their hands in gentle defense.

“No, Ophelia, of course I didn’t—” The young nymph screamed again, this time in anger, shoving past the sylph and out of the room. Her wings fluttered and buzzed behind her as she ran out onto the walkway, Avery hurrying after her. “Wait! Where are you going?!” they called. 

“To go find my dad,” she snarled, taking to the air. “And kill whoever did this.”

—

Rhett sat against a tree, his breathing labored. His hands were slick with blood, the bodies of a half-dozen fae surrounding him in the snow, growing colder only a little faster than he was. His cane, the hidden knife unsheathed, was dropped in the snow near him, blade glistening. A massive wound in his gut was oozing blood faster than he could staunch it, so he just tried to enjoy the minutes of quiet peace he had left, staring up at the treetops. 

“I’m sorry,” he said to the sky, his voice barely a whisper.

#. thread ; #. solo ; #. icarus ; pt. iv

[ghostboyjules]

It appears the last two (2)….times I’ve tried creating this post, tumblr thought I was too wordy, so I’m going to attempt to get in and get out before it eats itself again

this playlist (a Dream of the Endless™ character examination via my silly brain and sad ass music) took me entirely too long and I'm going to throw my laptop out of the window if I have to look at it any longer so pls pls take it and I hope that if you listen or even read the lyrics that you find something new, or hear something you like.

This absolutely would not have ever seen the light of tunglr.hell if not for the beautiful souls of the Sandman fandom, and a few of my new friends and mutuals. So special internet cookies and hugs to these inspirational, encouraging, and beyond talented individuals; @wordsinhaled , @weirdfishy , @wizardofgoodfortune , and @xx-vergil-xx - i love y'all dearly and I hope this is even HALF of what you would have expected, or a quarter of the amazing content y'all have bestowed upon my lil eyeballs. Now Onward! to words that personally injure me!

Florence + The Machine -Too Much Is Never Enough

And the crown, it weighs heavy 'Til it's banging on my eyelids Retreating in covers and closing the curtains One thing's for certain, oh A year like this passes so strangely Somewhere between sorrow and bliss

Oh, who decides from where up high? I couldn't say "I need more time" Oh, grant that I can stay the night Or one more day inside this life

~I first encountered this song in it's source material FFXV, and there it destroyed me. Now, wearing my dumb lil blorbo glasses yet again, it is back with vengeance..goth royalty sad wet cat flavored (gross), vengeance. "too much is never enough" .... oh sweeties...

VIRA - God Complex

God, I could try To be the one To be the one I'll tear down the sky What do you want? I'll do it all for life My love, my alibi Tonight, tonight I'll try to do it for you

I'm gonna be where you are Doesn't matter how far Because we are meant to be I'm gonna be what you need Darling, please worship me Unless you prefer to plead

~pretty sure this is the angriest sounding song on this thing? but it is fitting.. and desperate.. and wanting and... painful. when she grits out 'try' and 'sky' the way she does.. god the emotion. this just brought to mind Dream and falling for someone hard enough to the point of destructive devotion...

AJJ - Body Terror Song

It will betray you Be used against you Then it will fail on you, my dear But before that, you'll be a doormat For every vicious narcissist in the world Oh, how they'll screw you all up and over Then feed you silence for dessert

~ I love seeing people explore the idea of Dream just...not vibing with being fully corporeal. At least not in the way he is while in the Waking.. what a mood, and especially after the fishbowl...whew.

Philip Wesley - Lamentations of the Heart

[Instrumental~]

~I wanted to include a few instrumental tracks in here and this one felt apt because I used to fall asleep to this album all the time. Like it was one of the only ones I could fall asleep to with any certainty. The feeling and title for this one tho struck me with Dream specifically so I went with it. The rest of the album is so nice though, highly rec.

Iris Lune - Paper Mache

Save me from myself I've been in the dark too long Paper mache love Make me believe that I can change Make me believe that I'm not strange At all

~ this song!! it sounds so so ethereal and her voice is GORGEOUS but the lyrics!! have mercy the lyrics! big ole owwie! "save me from myself" , "make me believe that I can change, make me believe that I'm not strange" hhhh (also if y'all couldn't tell, this will be dreamling flavored, I think I'll tag them too jic but. yes...)

Penny and Sparrow - A Kind of Hunger

tremble, recognize the distance Go try and murder every preference I’ll keep hangin' ‘round for reference come care about me come care about me

changing, watching you with wonder you’re less and getting even younger dying is just a kind of hunger come care about Me come care about Me

~this is... such a heavy song. hadn't heard it before starting this playlist but found it and immediately had to add it.. just. come care about me. changing, watching you with wonder. Dying is just a kind of hunger. that line specifically. -lays on the floor for 3hrs-

Carly Rae Jepsen - Gimme Love

Gimmie love (Oh) It's the way we are together (Oh) Wanna feel like this forever, forever (Oh) It's the way we are together And I never thought I'd ever say forever

~originally was gonna be a joke song to lighten the mood but haha! nope! I mean it is lighthearted but it still absolutely, in my mind, fits Morpheus. beautiful babygirl of the endless...smooch

Jon Bellion - Stupid Deep (Acoustic)

What if who I hoped to be was always me? And the love I fought to feel was always free? What if all the things I've done Were just attempts at earning love? Yeah 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, oh, stupid deep

~this song fucks me up! 😀 for real though, I highly suggest watching the acoustic performance of this that he has on youtube cause the vibe is so.. intimate and dreamy and gorgeous.. and the lyrics.. jon bellion, sir.. smh.. the ending..

Marika Hackman - Undone, Undress

They heard my heart for miles The air inside Was seeping out In silent shouts It crumpled in my chest

~this is definitely... a nightmarish..creeping kind of song, and the lyrics are, according to the Genius annotations, rather distressing but I don't really see them the same way. I can't really explain it but hopefully y'all will see what I mean. love this one specifically "Load me heavy, I can't bend. Break me better, so I won't mend" break me better.... hhhhhh

DBMK - Switchblade

Did you hear I coughed my heart out? It never fit me so I'm likely to drown My body yearns for something real now Suggesting kitchen counters, can openers, and close encounters to hold me down Ain’t no one's boyfriend, wow I'm busy up in my brain but they don't see anything, yeah

I open up too easily, look at me Single sided blade of insecurities, yeah I open up too easily, speak to me Cutting through my comfort like its misery, sad

~this. SONG. he just like me fr 😔 azdcafs nah, honestly idk if this is projecting, but to MEE I like to think about Dream being so ready for a partner, and he gives so so much of himself to them and loves so passionately but he also has just... so many issues. just ugh this song..

Blegh - His Hands

He feels handcrafted just for you But he's a little bit too far away and You can't, you can't His hands are on you And you know you'll be gone by the morning but you know he loves you And you know you like his strong hands, strong hands

You're too real for me You should go to something better I'll give you to someone better I have friends that'll be on earth for longer I have friends that won't feel like monsters

~another song that I was not prepared for before hand that ruined me so viciously, that I had to scream at multiple ppl about it, most of which were mentioned in this post, but Verg's reaction was very memorable because I believe she told me she was on public transportation and the way she phrased it had me rolling around on the floor. but yeah y'all just gotta hear this fuckin,... bear mace of a song (with your Dreamling Glasses™ on pls, as i believe it is meant to be asxacsgdcvc)

Agent Fresco - Wait for Me

I can’t see clear The rage of rivers roam every tear They all fall through vague and vast tunnels With hurts of hatred came blinding years Will they disappear?

I’m far away, treading a path I’ve made and it’s laid with stones of fallen love I need to feel and to make atonement before coming home

~-motions to song- I mean... c'mon... this alone? nah nah nah..I gotta lay down.

Talos - Endgame

I’m drawn across An empty space This dreamland now A tired waste O it’s the endgame

A blackout heart A seething truth There’s nothing in me Left for you We’re lies

~ Talos...Talos Talos Talos... y'all. if you don't know him, but like indie-ish electronic music with beautiful angelic Irishman vocals? pls... he makes me insane. He also just gives me Morpheus vibes in general, I'm not exactly sure why, but... I also think the cover art on his first two albums are very Morpheus energy, could just be me tho

Emma Ruth Rundle - Savage Saint

I held him, his whole life In my hands, in my heart

Don't be ever forgotten, Savage Saint Never draw blood in the garden, faint Don't be the name that's drawing shame and Never let your heart harden, little flame

~I knew I had to have Emma Ruth in here somewhere, but it took me a second to find the perfect song.. and I was torn between a few, but I saw this one and. Immediately my heart was out of my body. Thinking about Orpheus.. and Dream thinking about Orpheus.. draw blood in the garden,,, I held him his whole life.. in my hands in my heart.. little flame.. it seems I am upsetti spaghetti.

Sleeping at Last - Neptune

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how

~Sleeping at Last my beloved <3 ... if I could snort 'atlas pt 1 the album' I fuckin would. also there's a song on there for literally any blorbo. i could bet my life on that. somewhere on there! "if brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece" ah hah.. hahaha..

Sea Power - Want To Be Free

Now we're under the stars Smoking cigars On top of a motorcar Hanging out Like some kind of nebula We

Want to be free Want to be free It will last forever Eternally

~this one was more for vibes and because it's beautiful, but also if I think too hard about Morpheus and how he just wants to be normal and rest for a little while, then I will have to go eat a whole bag of chocolate chips and cry myself to sleep.

Clem Turner - Divine Loser

"Connect yet stay opaque," I cannot have it both ways Please do not tell the time I can't be trusted with the date

My god, you break the skin But may I be thy heaven? Will you take my sickness While I deprive you of your health?

~haha Divine Loser..defo Morpheus (jk. or am I) that second part I included.. I keep having to re-read those lyrics, cause.. my goodness. there's a part later that says "baby just let me bleed in peace" like... whoof. Clem Turner is the only person on here twice, mostly cause these two songs are just so phenomenal I had to and the lyrics... SHMACK.. and Clem's VOICE?? pardon me?

Clem Turner - Honeywell

Get it through your pretty head Take me with you instead Forget her, she's gone So, tell me, dear stranger What's got you distraught?

Mm, here I am to bring Psychosomatic freedom to your head May I be of service, newlywed? See me as a host to all your greatest dreams And then some change As long as your compassion stays the same

~"So tell me, Dear Stranger, what's got you so distraught?" Um..is that in a dreamling fic, cause... 👀 and then "see me as a host to all your greatest dreams and then some change, as long as your compassion stays the same." running in circles, sobbing, hopping out my window, running into the woods...etc

Mustapha Kamel - Can You Feel Me

[Instrumental~]

~ this song just makes me -lays face down in the carpet for 2+ hrs- and the cello is gahdamn gorgeous..

The New Basement Tapes - When I Get My Hands On You

When I come home to you Gonna take you down to the riverside When I come home to you Hold you in my arms all night

And now you know Everywhere on earth you go You're gonna have me as your man

~ Mushy Dream Rights!!! let this inconceivable being be a sap!! I love seeing him clingy and sweet and so so in love and just AAAHHH I could literally weep, I love this weird scrungly man.

Glass Animals - JDNT

I'm all armored up I've got my old helmet on Keeping out an eye Puffing all my feathers up One more little blow One more tap and I collapse

~heehee another nightmarish song. not only is this a fuckin BANGER, but Glass Animals has such a.. Sound. that's dreamlike most of the time, but sometimes can be so.. tense and creepy, and the lyrics can be violent and just downright odd. mostly from the zaba album, but regardless. I could talk about Dream + Glass Animals for hours, as proven with N (@wordsinhaled) because we have done exactly that, I think twice now lolololol (also I thought the line abt the helmet was.. hehe funny)

ABRA - Pride

Palms up, no crown You wanna mess around I wanna hold you down It's not okay I need you everyday

I lost all the pride That I thought I could keep Can you see me Say you feel me It's a big world But I fall at your feet Reach out and touch me

~ this was originally an entirely different song! but I switched it out last minute and I am v happy that I did because this song..this song fucks severely, but also it lets me put a facet of Dream on this playlist that I love seeing, which is the needy and seductive lil bastard that he can be. i think i could make a whole other playlist dedicated to that aspect tbh azcacdfavcg

Purity Ring - Asido

Oh, the madness in weakness Doubled o'er on the plate Fill an ocean with weaponry Hurricanes of our grace

Feel as lonely as I do, as I do Feel as lonely as I do, I do Feel as lonely as I do

~I wanted some Purity Ring on here because I know their genre is sometimes described as dream pop or witch house, and their lyricism has this... poetically visceral aspect to it sometimes that I adore while also being very ethereal. Love them. also tho, feel as lonely as I do?? of course it had to be in here.

Hozier - It Will Come Back

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

It can't be unlearned I've known the warmth of your doorways Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you Oh, please, give me mercy no more That's a kindness you can't afford I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born You'll hear me howling outside your door

~ okay look, I know everybody and their mother who has made a playlist like this has put Mr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne on it, but like - come on.. look at those lyrics. He just Gets It™ and the music slaps ass! I have like, an actual Dreamling playlist in the works as well, which I'm sure will be... longer. but hopefully I'll have the foresight to work on it a bit at a time, and PERHAPS prepare a word document, since I cannot seem to help rambling at any chance I get 💀

Son Lux - Labor

I will break with you For your body to be freed and pleased Take the weight of you For your gravity to be erased

Come to life, my hungry arms are begging you But what more can you do?

Labor reveal before our eyes Into our ears Unfurl with light The stars around us disappear Just what is torn What comes alive inside of us

~ I wanted.. something big on here. I don't necessarily have a desired order for this to be played in, but this was the last one I added, if that tells you anything. The opening of this song is a little jarring, but the piano is so. beautiful. Son Lux has such a way of composing their music that just leaves me breathless and astounded at the feelings music can bring forward in me, and speaking in Dream terms, I feel like that would be the kind of song he really appreciates. I'm not gonna end this with rambling about the complexity of human emotion, because I don't believe tumblr could handle me doing that - operation-wise, i feel like it's abt to stab me as is- It's also not why I'm here lol. "I will break with you. For your body to be freed and pleased. Take the weight of you, for your gravity to be erased." the rest of that line literally mentions a phantom muse.. I think, viewing this in terms of Morpheus' marriage, and maybe even how he thinks about marriage as a concept is interesting. On Genius they mention that on a Son Lux insta story they talked about the first half of the song being about helping a friend die, and the second half about the birth of Ryan Lott's son. Looking at in that framing is also,,, WHEW.. okay this paragraph has been long enough lmao

WELL GEEZE.. looks like I've finally made it to the bottom without tumblr shitting itself again, so I'm gonna wrap this up before it gets the chance to. HAH.

If anyone has bothered to read this far; I cannot thank you enough nor can I tell you how much I appreciate you reading my inane mangling of the English language to be overly emo about music and a spindly nightmare of a man, but REGARDLESS. Thank you, I love you, and I would absolutely take a stab wound for you and make you cookies. 💕🖤💕🖤✨

#holy shit. #this is I think. the longest thing I have ever worked on and posted to tumblr dot hellsite.. #the sandman #dream of the endless #babygirl of the endless <3 #heh heh sorry i had to. it brings me joy. #also if y'all see typos -other than the on purpose shortening of words cause i am a lazy bastard first and foremost- ... no you didn't #i really mean it tho if you've read all of this AND listened to the playlist?? i would straight up die and kill for you sorry not sorry #okay i'm ... leaving my computer now because i've been here for.. #longer than i would like to disclose in my tumblr tags so.. tata for now beloveds #playlist #Spotify #dreamling #a hint of..or flavored ig.. #almost forgot to tag them hehe oops

[jaewrotethis]

21- Do Something...

His P.O.V.

“You get off him! Let him go! Get away!”

Jane yells and growls in the defense of the boy she thinks is her friend. Time will tell if she can figure out that K is my brother, never her friend. She pulls at the two boys who snatched K from her bed and are tugging him out of her door, though it isn’t a struggle. It’s only Jane trying to stop them, K already knows what he’s done and he’s cooperating with his head low. No one does he speak to her, probably knowing he’s pushed his luck enough and any sort of contact whatsoever after this will surely piss me off even more.

Here I go about my peaceful morning, excited to pull Jane from her slumber to show her something new today, or even better, perhaps have her show me something new with those powers, and I find K sleeping beside her. For a moment I was disappointed to realize she will be spending the day learning a punishment instead of some new power I planned on getting her to manage. But then a wonderful idea sparks to mind. A wonderful spark of terror, and opportunity to see how much, if any, power she will show to defend the one person she felt comfortable enough to sleep in front of.

“Pan, what are you doing!” she gives up on trying to stop them and she comes at me now.

She goes to snatch my clothes at my chest but I shift behind her. Her face nearly makes me laugh, she’s so stupidly clueless, so small and angry when she whips around to glare at me.

“Where are you taking him?” she growls again.

I look to the other boys pulling K from her bedroom. Though he knows better than to fight back he still looks back at her just before they pull him out of view.

“Pan!” her voice full of rage, I look at her. “Where are you taking him?” she spits lowly.

I lean close to her naive face, so she’ll back up and when she does I sneer, “Don’t worry about it,”

My smirk enrages her more, though her fear stops her from swinging at me, I can see it.

“If you hurt him-”

“What?” my intrigued eyes pop, eager to see something new from her, “What are you going to do, Jane?”

She pauses, her determined eyes dying inside. I don’t ask her to intimidate her, despite how it comes off, I truly wish her to be provoked enough to unlock some power she hasn’t tried yet.

“You gonna stop me?”

She stares into my eyes, wanting so badly to do something. Behind my dare my hope of her snapping and showing me her real power dwindles. Hoping any of that power will surface through her emotions, hoping she will have some sort of control over it this time.

“Don’t kill him,” she whispers.

“Stop me, then.” I dare her.

The light in her eyes wants to fight back, so badly it does. She nearly does. Something inside of her builds up, wanting to stand up to me. But she exhales and looks down at the ground, giving up. I release a small exhale of my own in disappointment. I had really hoped to seen something new from her this day. A better measurement at how strong her source really is. I scoff and brush passed her thinking just another couple nudges and she might prevail. I whistle down the hall, calling the boys back.

They bring K to halt in front of me and all Jane can do is watch with her eyes wide. So unnecessarily helpless, I’m nearly disgusted. I’ll train that out of her real quick. If she wants to stand there and do nothing, I’ll find the limit that breaks that. I’ll walk her up to the line and shove her over it if it means she’ll access her magic and do something.

“What are you doing?” she begs in anger.

“What would you do to save your friend, Jane, dear?” I play with her emotions and approach K with a hand on the back of his neck. I give him a look and drop a small message in his head.

Hold your breath, this is gonna hurt.

His eyes nod in obedience and I light the white bolt of a painful orb in my hand on his neck. It blasts bright and loud, knocking him forward and to the ground, the others releasing him. He makes no sound and hits the ground hard.

“K!” she shrieks and falls to his aid on the floor as well.

I send another message, It’s for her training, brother. Hold on.

I drop another bolt, sending him across the floor.

“Stop!” Jane cries, watching him hit her bed frame.

“Make me,” I tell her.

Her cruel eyes match mine as she stands and she grinds her teeth, “What the hell do you want from me!”

“You want me to stop,” I blast him again, “Stop me.” I do it again.

“I-I can’t!” she urges, trying to run to him but I grab her forearm tight.

She tries to pull away but gives up when I yank her forward to put my face in hers, “What’s stopping you?” I ponder aloud. “Don’t you want to save him?” I open my palm to him, white bolt hot and ready to go.

She eyes it, her eyes are torn as if she wants to grab the bolt and use it herself but also afraid to touch it. Then her eyes flicker back to me and she’s about to break as she nods.

“Then do it.” I order and release her arm as well as the bolt.

She cries out a loud ‘no’ one more time then the bolt hits K. He’s unconscious now, breathing still, but out. I scan his vitals from the distance and conclude he’s probably done taking the bolts unless I want to conjure up a healing potion. Jane runs to him now and I snap at K’s body. The others watching step into rhythm to collect him. They do so and take him from her room again. Jane looks up at me and stands, anger seething from her skin. So much emotion, so much power yet she controls none of it, harness or uses none of it. It’s infuriating, I scoff again and turn to leave her alone in her room, believing she failed at protecting the only friend she might have.

“How could you do that?” she hushes quietly.

I stop walking, turning back to her, she stares at me, tears in her eyes but I know she won’t let them fall.

A smile creeps over my lips, “I’ll do what it takes to get you comfortable in your magic,”

“But he’s your friend,” she spits the last word, “How could you do that to him?” she’s nearly shouting.

I narrow my own gaze, “K knows everything I do is for the greater of us all. Including using him to push you into your power,” I pause, “And K is not my friend,” I step closer, to make the next statement all the more malicious, “He’s my brother,”

She grinds her teeth, shaking her head, “You’re insane. If you think I’m using any of this magic for you-”

I can’t help but stop her, “Oh, you’ll do more than that for me, love. You’re entire reservoir was made personally for me,”

“What are you talking about?”

I roll my head to the side with a light laugh, “Time will show,”

Her disbelief scoffs through her angry pain, “What do you want?”

She’s so angry, so alone and frustrated. So much fury I just know she is wishing she could let loose on me and perhaps, is that the want to kill me I see in her eyes? A new joy of a new game surfaces. Making her admit she wants me dead, it’s always my favorite game to play with those who will never make it happen. I walk to her slowly, making her feel as small as she is, a hard mask on that always forces her to look away first, and I ask her the same question back, curious to see if she’ll lie.

“What do you want?”

She chews on her jaw, she wants to say it.

“Say it,” I press.

She looks down, and I step closer. I grab her chin, squeezing her soft skin in my grasp and forcing her to look me in the eyes. Her eyes widen at the touch and she’s too afraid to pull away yet still so angry. I can see her fury I wish she’d just do something about it. Just use that power, grow it, something, anything.

“Say it.” I demand one last time.

She rips her face from my hand and holds the mean glare, her eyebrows pointed at me.

“I want to kill you,” she admits finally.

I smirk in satisfaction, “There isn’t killing what won’t die,” I tell her.

Her face changes, she’s shocked, perhaps realizing I’m right.

“Besides, I got this feeling you won’t try,”

She’s speechless. And after seeing her not do a thing to stop me from taking her ‘friend’, I mean what I say. This day is the first many that she’ll find herself in need of her magic. I’ll do anything to push her to change my words, make her make me believe something else. Show me she can do something about it if she really wanted to. Yet she didn’t.

#neverland #screenwriting #peter pan fanfic #peter pan #screenplay #peterpan x reader #the promised neverland #tinkerbell #long reads #peter pan fandom

[magicalmanhattanproject]

[Recorder clicks on.]

ARCHIVIST: Hm? What’s–? Oh! Excuse me! Sir! Could I have a word? 

UNKNOWN [voice is tinny, as though coming through an intercom]: Sure. What do you want? 

ARCHIVIST: My name is Pixlriffs. I’m with the Recap Institute and I’d very much like your statement, if you don’t mind sharing.

UNKNOWN: I do mind, actually. 

ARCHIVIST, overlapping: Statement of Jevin concerning time spent aboard th–

[Sounds cuts off abruptly. Muffled but incomprehensible protests follow.]

JEVIN, calm and cheerful: Have you seen the pictures of the shape they found Manuela in?

[Affirmative noises]

JEVIN: Do you want to end up in that shape? 

[Pause. Negating noises.]

JEVIN: Then don’t push your luck. 

[Thump. Footsteps walking away. Heavy breathing.]

ARCHIVIST: Well. That could have gone better, but it certainly could have gone worse. As much as the Convex are usually a thorn in my side, I can only hope he’ll prove more willing to talk to them. [A small, humorless laugh] For now, I believe I’ve seen enough. Recording ends. 

[Recorder clicks off]

[Recorder clicks on. Through the entire recording, there is a persistent repetitive click and hiss from an oxygen tank]

SCAR: Statement of Jevin concerning time spent aboard the space station Daedalus. Statement taken direct from subject by Scar on behalf of Convex Consulting. Statement begins.

JEVIN: So first off, I’m gonna start off with a quick message to the Recap Institute. I don’t like talking about this stuff. If you want to rip the trauma out of my head, we’re gonna have some problems. And not just the fact that I don’t have a head anymore. 

CUB: Do you mind if we add in a quick physical description here?

JEVIN: Be my guest.

CUB: Cub speaking. Subject is an EVA space suit from the Daedalus mission. It-He?- The suit appears to have some sort of gelatinous liquid inside but details are impossible to discern. Statement resumes. 

JEVIN: Right. So. I’m gonna skip a lot of the early part of the story because I don’t like talking about it. I used to have a phobia of the dark. A really bad one. Bad enough that this evil cult thought they could use me as a – what did they call it? a fear battery. Can’t say I was a fan of the experience. Well, they kept me in an EVA just as an extra layer of protection on their end so that if something went wrong on their end it wouldn’t kill me too fast for them to complete their project. Not that it did them much good in the end. 

But eventually Manuela had it finished. Her Dark Sun. Jan Kilbride was busy trying to get to Carter Chilcott after something went wrong with whatever he was doing, so she needed someone to gloat to and who better than the source of all her precious terror? [A shaky laugh]

I was a mess by then. Had been for a while. I’d kinda just assumed for most of my life that there’s an upper limit on terror. That you can only tolerate so much fear before your mind just gives out and either accepts it or snaps entirely. Turns out that’s not really true. You just kinda keep going. But I didn’t have the courage in me to look into the Dark Sun. So I looked out the window and so, well, the guys that kidnapped me to use as a fear battery for their evil ritual? Yeah they didn’t exactly bother with a nice thorough pre mission brief. 

So here I am, already scared out of my mind, disoriented and confused and overwhelmed, and I realize all of a sudden that I am in outer space. No joke, outer space. Like that is Earth down there below us. I am not on the planet anymore. And at this point Manuela is trying to talk to me or at me but I can’t really focus on that because, again, I am in outer space and I all can think is that this is the coolest thing ever and I want a closer look. Manuela grabs me and tries to get me to look at the Dark Sun but I would really rather not for several reasons so I shove her off me and go to the airlock.

I didn’t manage to get it open on my own, actually, but I must have been getting close or at least spooking Manuela because she said she’d let me out if I let her get an EVA suit on too. And I did. I want that on record. I did let her get a suit on. 

CUB: None of the pictures show her in a suit–

JEVIN: I’m getting there. Anyway, she got on her suit and it took ages because apparently you have to breathe pure oxygen for a bit beforehand. News to me. I wasn’t really thinking of my own safety at that point. I still had the Dark Sun behind me and I’d just gotten out of the fear box and Manuela had sealed the other two off in their own part of the ship and was trying to make sure they didn’t find out that there was a random new guy somehow and there was just a lot going on. 

And then the airlock opens and I am out of there. And I’m definitely not tethered, which is really not surprising, but I also can’t bring myself to care because I can finally see.

When I was a kid, I’d nearly drowned and I hadn’t been able to figure out which direction was up. Now, it was all of them. Everywhere was up. Everywhere was so big. We weren’t even high enough up for the Earth to look like a little blue dot, but it didn’t need to. Because I could see how immense it was and look past it to the stars beyond and see how utterly tiny and insignificant it was. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of it. 

In the moment, it felt like I floated there for centuries. Based on what I looked up later, it can’t have been more than 90 seconds. That’s the longest anything can survive in the vacuum of space. At some point between when I’d been put in the box and now, my suit had been breached and I– 

It hurt. This is the other part I really didn’t want to relive. So we’ll skip it. It hurt a lot. And then it didn’t anymore. And then I got back on board the Daedalus. I went to Manuela–

SCAR: Can you clarify your method of locomotion? You mentioned earlier that you weren’t tethered. 

JEVIN: Honestly, I can’t. I was outside the Daedalus and then I wanted to be back on board the Daedalus, so I was. Everything feels so much closer together when you’re working on such a big scale, so it’s not like I had very far to go. Anyway, uh, statement resumes? Yeah. Statement resumes. 

So, I had a bone to pick with Manuela, and at that point it was the only bone I had left. She tried to use the Dark Sun to protect her, but it was too tiny for me to really focus on. I opened the helmet of the suit and the vacuum spilled out of it. It ate the Dark Sun. It ate the edges of Manuela’s suit too. It’s not quite the same vacuum as space. You see, the transition from one atmosphere to none isn’t actually too bad. It’ll kill you, sure, but I have a lot more Vast inside me than that. So what comes out of me will hit you a lot harder. I think it shattered her arms too. All the way up to the shoulder. All the bones and sinews and muscles turned to–

[Demonstrative sloshing noise]

And then I closed the helmet and all of it came back into me. We all have infinities inside us. I just have a lot more than most.

I opened up the bulkhead keeping the other two out after that. Kilbride didn’t even question why I was there. To be fair, he was dealing with a lot of other stuff. I didn’t push it. I don’t know how to pilot a space station either. I think he got some medals for getting us all back to Earth safely. If he didn’t, he deserves them. I didn’t stick around afterwards though. 

I live pretty comfortably these days. I have a pension from the Daedalus guys. They didn’t want to give me one, of course, but I went to Peter Lukas in person. I told him he could write me a check for 5 million in person or I could take my helmet off next to his precious ship. He wrote the check just to end the conversation. I snuck on board a different ship and sank that one instead. Walked home underwater. It took a while, of course, but it’s nice and meditative. 

CUB: Aren’t you worried your suit isn’t watertight?

[Static]

JEVIN, laughing: It’s not airtight either. Don’t worry about it too much and it’ll be fine. Anyway, that’s all I had to say. So yeah. Statement ends.

[Recorder clicks off]

[Recorder clicks on]

ARCHIVIST, petulantly: Sure enough, he did go to the Convex after all. I suppose I can understand why there are parts he doesn’t want to relive, but it’s doubtful he even has enough brain structure left for nightmares and I would have preferred to have the full picture. 

[A sigh. Voice becomes professional]

Regardless, it’s a relief to have some solid information on the People’s Church of the Divine Host. They tend to keeps us rather in the dark, as it were, about their activities. The, er, subsumption of the Dark Sun means they will not be able to attempt a Ritual for some time. I’ll tell Xisuma he can cross that one off the list.

As for Jevin himself, given that he seems to limit himself to feeding only on those who try his patience with repeated pestering for information... Well. Hypno wouldn’t have much sympathy for them. I will simply say that he is unlikely to try to arrange a Ritual.

[A lengthy pause. Tapping of a pen against a desk]

I refuse to believe Cub and Scar are simply interested in the money. They approached the Institute virtually the moment that we began struggling to find statement givers of our own with a ready supply. It is not coincidence. But what they are and what they do want is still a mystery. Either way, I would like to try to establish a reliable source of statements that won’t be a strain on the budget. Especially given that we now know why Mr Lukas has asked us to cut back on the spending where possible. 

End recording.

[Recorder clicks off.]

#tmau #the hermit archives #ijevin #pixlriffs #the vast #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #my writing #fanfic

[semper-legens]

196. Shiver, by Junji Ito

Owned: Yes Page count: 394 My summary: Giant faces appear over the city, nooses dangling below them. A runaway finds domestic bliss in a house controlled by puppeteers. Paintings of a young girl always come out strange. And a family honour their ancestors in a very unusual way... My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

More Junji Ito! I was going to have my annual reread of The Dark Is Rising be my last five books of the year, all neat and tidy, and then I got some Junji Ito for Christmas and my whole brain just went 'what the hell'. And, you know, it's not like it takes all that long to get through a collection of manga short stories. Much like every other Junji Ito collection I've read, this one has its ups and downs. Overall I really liked it, as ever, full of the usual Junji Ito hallmarks and styles of storytelling. This particular collection has a section of author's commentary and original sketches after each story, which is a nice bonus.

The first of the stories I'm gonna talk about is Used Record, about a pair of kids who get addicted to listening to this strange record. One steals it from the other and tries to trace its source, and it turns out that it's a recording of the last song of a dead singer, and it's incredibly rare. And people will kill to get it. I'm torn between two ideas here - one, the notion of an addictive and haunted piece of music is kind of hard to convey in a non-audio format like this, but two, the atmosphere is creepy and the story is actually very tense. It's subtle, for Ito - no body horror or creepy imagery, at least not as much as Ito's usual trademark, which I think works more being situated next to some of the more body-horror stories. It makes a nice change, and it's interesting!

Fashion Model, is...I have some problems with this, and it's all about appearance. The idea here is that a hideous woman is a fashion model, and she turns out to be some kind of sharklike monster woman who eats people. Because ugly people are evil! Given that Ito's protagonists tend to be conventionally attractive interchangeable people, and those who look different tend to be the bad guys, it has an uncomfortable overtone of bigotry towards people whose appearances are different. There are other ways you can make someone bad, and this ain't it, Ito.

Finally, there's Honoured Ancestors. This was a creepy one - a young woman who just lost her memory is invited into the home of a man claiming to be her fiancee, but it turns out that he's the reason she lost her memory. She saw his father, who lives with the skulls of all of his ancestors connected to his head, living on in his mind and through his body. One aspect of this is lost in translation - the dad is meant to be creepy by suddenly talking like an older woman, but that language change doesn't translate well into English. This just straddled the line of being too over the top, and it strayed into the ridiculous from time to time, but I love the effort on display here, and the creepy imagery of the skulls stretching up from the dad's head like a fucked up centipede. And the woman's terror at all of this, too. Poor girl.

Next - 'tis the season! It's time for my yearly reread of the Dark is Rising sequence.

#Shiver #Junji Ito #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #3

[mankatzu]

Night Terrors

Idk if I'll put this on Ao3 I barely understand their tagging system

Fandom: Bakumatsu yankee Pairing: Shinoma (oc x canon) Rating: SFW (features brief allusion to trauma around SA but it's abstract)

Shino has a nightmare and wakes up Ryoma for comfort.

.............

Them. they were there for a second she swore it— in the darkness, their edges bleeding and eyes staring into the back of her head. She lied there, for a few still moments frozen in terror as a cacophony of suffocating white noise filled every corner of the room that suddenly was no longer there. She was just falling, falling, through empty space, through darkness and cruelty and pain, reliving that moment, over and over, where the hands were upon her, and she couldn’t do anything. She heard laughter, But then—

She woke up.

And the only thing that could be heard was the sound of her ragged breathing, and the pounding in her chest.

In the dream she had bit her own tongue, and tasted metal. But now her mouth was just dry. She tried to collect herself, running a shaky hand through her hair while wiping the sweat of her forehead. It was too quiet now. In the darkness her eyes were barely adjusting to, she saw one streak of moonlight coming from the balcony window, a lone source of comfort in this space that should be a sanctum— but at a time like this, felt so unsafe.

she tried to anchor to what she understood, what was real— her futon, the softness of the blanket, the feeling of her silk robes on her skin. Zakuro, her cat who had been peacefully sleeping by her pillow, nuzzling her side.

And her darling Ryoma, who was sleeping in a futon just next to her, his breath still coming out as a hushed snore.

It was comforting. To be reminded of these things. But there was something so draining about it, so… wearisome. When her breath slowed and the tremblings of anxiety quelled into bubbles in her stomach she felt her eyes water. And she began to cry. Small, hot tears came out of her wincing face as she stifled a sob, and brought her knees to her chest.

She continued to weep. A good cry usually set everything right— but God if it didn’t make her feel childish. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to be held, to be told it was going to be okay even if she knew it was a lie. So she did the only thing she could think of, although she didn’t want to.

Crawling, she slipped over to Ryoma’s futon and gently nudged his shoulder.

“... Ryoma? Ryoma, wake up …”

With a sharp inhale, Ryoma’s eyes flew open and his body went rigid.

“--What? What’s it…” he said, moving to rub his eyes, his movements slow but still urgent in its search above his head. He was motioning for his pistol, which was usually at his side, but in actuality was under his pillow tonight. He cursed under his breath.

“Shino?”

“It’s me darling, I’m so sorry, I just...”

She trailed off, the confidence in her voice wavering towards the end.

“Bad dream?”

On hearing that, even though it could barely be seen in the darkness, he saw the slight quiver of her lip and a single sniffle. This wasn’t the first time she’d woken him up from sleep because of a nightmare, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“It’s okay, come here—”

He opened his blanket slightly to allow her to slip inside, wrapping it around her as she wormed into his tight embrace. She cried some more, weeping into his chest softly as he stroked her hair and cooed.

“Shhh, it’s alright… y’know you break my heart when you cry like that. I’m here, Ok? Nothin’s gonna hurt you.”

She sobbed, taking in sharp inhales as she strained to respond.

“I know.” she said, swallowing beforehand. “I just feel ridiculous…”

“Why?”

“I mean… I’m an adult! I thought I was over this. Over… that." "I shouldn’t be crawling into other people’s futons and sniveling over a bad dream...”

She rubbed her hands through her head again and leaned against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and comforting, like the tremblings of an old hearth. It calmed her, gradually.

“If it was bad enough to make you cry, it sounds like more than just a bad dream.”

She ran her hands through his chest hair idley. That may be true, but it still hurt her pride. Acting like a child and crying was something admonished by her parents once she learned to walk. It took her years to unlearn it, and even longer to put it into practice.

She sighed, and sank further into his arms.

“...Y’know… I crawled into my sister’s futon until I was twelve.”

“Really?” she said, trying to still speak in a hushed tone. She rubbed her still wet eyes with her hand, wiping away tears little by little. 

“Yeah. I mean I’ve told you about how— I wet the bed as a kid. A lot.”

She giggled softly, stifling it in one hand while still sniffling. He smiled.

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny—”

“No, you can laugh. It is.”

He stared at the ceiling, his eyes distant as if staring at the stars far above them. With two hands behind his head, Shino could tell he was thinking of those days, the ones he told her about in nights prior, of his home. The time where he ran careless and free through the fields of Tosa picking up sticks and swimming in the river, where the summers were long and humid but filled with a kind of simplicity.

A crybaby, he told her. That was what he was. A sniffly little kid who got frightened at toads and cried when the crabs would pinch him. “The crybaby of the Sakamoto house” they called him. An easy target for the neighborhood kids to bully. But his sister, Otome (second-youngest to him) would always come to his rescue, swinging her wooden sword at them and scaring them with her imposing height. Later, she’d scold him about it when he wet the bed. But like his mother who had cared for him so deeply, even in her illness— Otome loved him just the same. She was only hard on him because she saw what he could be, and she knew she wouldn't always be there to protect him.

“On nights like this where I’d had a bad dream, or y’know— wet myself. She’d clean me up and sing me to sleep. Just like my mom used to do.”

“Even when you were twelve?”

He chuffed. “It’s embarrassing, I know. But I was going through a lot at that age. My father was marrying a woman I barely knew, and I failed out of school.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah. And this was just two years after my mom passed away.”

“Your birthmother?”

“Yeah.”

The silence between them thickened a little. In the corner, the little bell of Zakuro’s collar and a little “mrrp” could be heard, as he came back into the room to see why no one was paying attention to him. He gave the cursory hiss to Ryoma, then went to Shino’s side once more— falling over with an inelegant flop.

She felt she shouldn’t press further. It was a sore subject after all … Best to change it.

“What did your sister sing to you?”

“Eh, I can’t really remember. Just little melodies, I guess. Or the harimaya bridge song.”

“Harimaya?” She perked her head up to look at him. “Which one is that?”

“It’s an old folk song in Tosa. It’s about a priest who’s in love with a woman of the night.”

“So about you, then.”

“I’m not bald!” She giggled and hid her face as he tried to flick her forehead.

To erase any doubt of hurt feelings, he kissed her forehead once she showed it again. All the while Zakuro was glaring daggers at him over her shoulder. He didn’t attack him anymore, but he still seemed rather miffed about him trying to get cozy with his mother,

Who was clearly in bliss.

“Ryoma…?” she batted her eyelashes at him. “Will you sing it for me?”

“Aw, c’mon…”

He groaned and turned his face away, blushing. He wasn’t really a good singer.

“Please…? I want a lullaby…”

As she pleaded and snuggled against his chest, he finally relented.

He sighed. “Alright. But I warned you. Don’t laugh.”

While rubbing her back softly, Ryoma began to sing.

In the city of Kochi in Tosa, at harimaya bridge

Tosa no kochi no harimaya-bashi de

I saw a priest who bought a hairpin from a vendor

Bon-san kanzashi kau o mita

Yosakoi, yosakoi…

His voice was rough, but pleasant to hear. The sound of it paired with the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin, Shino had slipped into sleep before he finished the last verse. He sighed and pulled the covers over them both, and as if not to disturb her slumber, thought to himself—

“Goodnight, Shino.”

They both slept through the night without difficulty.

#txt #my writing #my fics #shinoma #ryoma #I'M NOT PUTTING THIS IN ANY MAIN TAGS YOU MY FOLLOWERS WILL READ IT.

[korissideblog]

Part 2!! of the lovely Konekoito date <333 kiss kiss i love u

[koneko, again, by the lovely @you-may-call-me-meme <3]

“It’s suh-shee-mee, Aito”

“Like hell it is! It’s sa-shee-mee!” 

    The two had been arguing over the pronunciation of their salmon for as long as they had been eating it and walking down the sidewalk. 

“That’s not right- how long have you been saying it like that?” Konekomaru laughed, taking the argument much less seriously than Aito was- and mostly just having fun seeing her all wound up about it.

“Since the day I was born! Sashimi was my first word!” Aito lied, quickly snatching some of the fish off of Konekomaru’s plastic container. 

    “Impossible-” he laughed harder, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s impossible for your first word to be polysyllabic-”

    “Psh- impossible for you! I was read Plato before I was potty trained- you can ask my mama that! She was the one reading!” Aito said, exaggerating a bit as she tried to reach for another bite, but was stopped as Konekomaru reached for the exact same bit- the final piece of sashimi. 

    The perfect boyfriend, Aito knew, would let his boyfriend have the last piece. it was only so obvious.

    but...

    The perfect girlfriend would also want to keep her boyfriend as sharp as possible, always on his toes, ready for anything- and how could any of that happen if he was given everything without contest? The strongest plants grow in concrete- and Aito was always more fond of dandelions over roses. 

    They both seemed to analyze the situation before continuing. Aito had the advantage of being bigger and more athletic than Konekomaru, but Konekomaru was already holding the container and his reflexes were much faster than Aito’s- but he was still burdened with what was left of the bouquet, giving neither a clear advantage in the challenge. And yet, without a second thought, Aito lunged for his prize- only to be met with empty air as Konekomaru pulled the container away. 

“That salmon’s mine, Ko!” Aito announced, already stanced for her next attack.

“I’d like to see you try, Aito!” Konekomaru teased, lifting the sashimi over his head. The two wrestled over the fish for a bit, Aito getting close, but never finding the salmon in his grasp. She had Konekomaru in a headlock when she suddenly stopped moving. Konekomaru struggled his way out of her loosening grip, about to goad her again when he noticed her ears flicking about; almost like a sonar as she tried to identify the origin of some sound she had heard. For a second the two just stood there, Konekomaru watching Aito listen intently for… something?

“It’s… there’s four legs.” Aito mumbled, his ears seemingly finding the source of the noise he was looking for. “It’s moving- it’s moving quickly- holy sh-” Aito immediately cut herself off to grab Konekomaru’s hand and sprint down the sidewalk to a nearby tree. “Climb climb climb climb!” she yelled, scrambling up the tree as she tried to drag Konekomaru up with her. “It’s almost here Ko! It’s almost- AHH!!!” Aito screamed as the source of her terror finally ran into view- a midsized chocolate lab dog, which barked playfully as it jogged up to the tree. 

Admittedly Konekomaru jumped a bit when he saw the dog- a small little byproduct of his quirk- but he wasn't too torn up about it. It was just a little doggie- and yet he’s never seen a response as dramatic as Aito’s. 

“Beast!” he yelled, gripping tightly to the tree branch he was perched on. “Look at it! A hellhound born of evil and bloodlust! You gotta get away from it Ko! It’ll- DON”T TOUCH IT!!!” Aito cried, nearly shaking as Konekomaru crouched down to pet the dog. 

“It’s just a stray, Aito, it’s not gonna hurt us.” he laughed, the dog seemingly agreeing as it rolled onto it’s back and let Konekomaru pet it’s belly. “Come on down from there- you’re gonna fall if you stay.” he said, honestly a bit worried by Aito’s fear of the playful dog. He reached a hand out to the girl in the tree, offering her some help with getting down. “He’s barely above my knee, Aito. it’s really not that bad.” 

Aito continued to stare in fear as the dog sat calmly next to Konekomaru, seemingly more interested in getting more pets than thinking anything of Aito. Aito looked back at Konekomaru, and after gathering all his bravery, he reached out with shaking fingers towards Konekomaru’s hand.

The second their fingers brushed, it was like a switch had been flipped in the dog’s brain. It immediately jumped to what could be described as Konekomaru’s ‘defence’, rearing up and snapping at Aito’s hand. Aito screamed as she clutched her hand close to her chest, falling back and crowding against the trunk of the tree. “I told you Konekomaru! I told you it was evil! Look at me!” she whined, holding out her hand to show a small scratch on her pointer finger. “I was bit on my finger! It could have been my leg! It could have been my neck- I could have died!” It was barely deep enough to collect a drop of blood from- and yet… Konekomaru had to admit that Aito had a point. No matter the severity of her injury, this dog did not like her, and- as the one the dog seemed to tolerate- it was Konekomaru’s responsibility to protect her.

“Ok now- you can’t go snapping at her! Get out of here! Shoo!” he huffed, waving the dog away… and only succeeding in getting the dog to stare blankly at him.

“Good! Distract him!” Aito cheered sarcastically. “When you’re done with that, hand me that rock! I’ll bludgeon this mutt!” Aito continued, pointing to a hand sized rock on the side of the walkway.

The dog growled aggressively, jumping up and standing against the side of the tree, forcing Aito to retreat up a branch before barking more threats at the animal. “We’re not gonna hurt it Aito!” Konekomaru said, putting his foot down. “Just- oh wait!” He quickly held out the sashimi to the dog, letting it sniff it and calming it down a bit. “Aito! Take this!” he said, tossing the fish up to Aito. Aito gave it a look of confusion as he snatched it from the air, but quickly caught on as he saw the way the dog also followed the fish. 

“On three?” he asked, cocking his arm back and preparing to throw the morsel as far as he could. 

“On three.” Konekomaru agreed, turning to face the opposite way down the sidewalk. 

“One… two…” but before Konekomaru got to three, Aito threw the fish in a panic and jumped out of the tree. The dog, completely focused on the sashimi, ran after the piece of salmon as the boys ran like bats out of hell in the other direction. 

________ 

    They had gotten a few blocks away before Aito finally let them slow down, both panting as they leaned against a nearby building. “I hate dogs.” Aito huffed, sliding down the wall and sitting dejectedly. “At least cats’ll just sit there and yowl at you- dogs’ll bark and growl and bite and chase and-” Aito complained, still trying to catch her breath.

“And steal the last piece of sashimi?” Konekomaru offered. They both burst out in laughter- at least as much as they could with their lungs still burning. Once their breathing finally returned to normal, Konekomaru reached into his back pocket “Aito, your finger- Is it still bleeding?” he asked, pulling out a bandage and holding it up. “I uh, I told Hiroharu kun that we were going out tonight, he recommended I bring first aid.” he chuckled. Aito nodded and held out her finger, letting Konekomaru bandage it up for her.

    “Thanks.” she said shortly, bending her finger as she looked at the beige strip. “That dog chased us pretty far away from the dorms… but we’re actually kinda close to Matsuo park.” she added, pointing down the sidewalk. “Just a block down I think. Wanna check it out?”  she asked, as if she hadn’t been planning a walk in the park for nearly a week now. The perfect boyfriend was spontaneous- and simultaneously planned for anything! 

“Oh! Totally!” Konekomaru said, shoving the bandage wrapper into his pocket. They started down the sidewalk again, Aito looking up at the sky as it was finally dark enough to see the stars. 

“What are you thinking about?” Konekomaru asked softly, noticing the tilt of her head and looking to the stars as well. 

“My mama says we’re like them.” Aito mumbled, gesturing vaguely upwards. “She says the stars look down on us just like we do them, and the connections we make are like constellations.” Aito laughed a little, trying to see if she could remember any of the constellations his mother told him about so many times, but coming up blank. “She says humans want to connect with everyone- everything! All so we can show the stars that we’re just as pretty as them.”

“Wow.” Konekomaru sighed “she sounds smart.” 

“She is.” Aito nodded matter of factly. “She’s the smartest person I know.” there was a short pause, just a few more steps before Aito spoke up again. “She said she wanted to meet you.” he said, just above a whisper. “I-I asked her for help beforehand and… she said she’d be happy to talk with you. She’s lying though, she doesn't want to talk with you.” Aito laughed, to Konekomaru’s silent confusion. “She just wants to see you. She says she can see a ‘good kid’ from a mile away. A teacher thing.” 

“She’s a teacher?”

“Oh yeah! She’s a professor at- the hell?” Aito looked up to see maybe the worst thing imaginable at this point. The large steel gates of Matsuo park sealed shut with a padlock so shiny it seemed to taunt her. 

“Why’s it closed! Who would close a park?” he gasped, grabbing at the bars of the gate and pulling to see how strongly it was secured. There was a little give in the chain, but nothing Aito could really work with. 

“Oh, that’s sad.” Konekomaru sighed, watching as Aito continued struggling with the gate. Konekomaru took a second to watch before walking up to the gate himself. Aito paused his own investigation to watch Konekomaru as he checked the give of the chain. It was a fairly big one, and definitely too strong for either of them to really do much to it physically. After a moment of contemplation, Konekomaru handed Aito his flowers and lifted his foot onto the chain, using it to boost himself up a bit. He found that he could wrap his fingers around the top of the gate, and used that hold to help pull himself to the top. After a bit of work, he steadied his breath and hopped down to the other side, waving to Aito. 

“That’s trespassing, Ko!” Aito gasped, clutching what was left of the flowers in shock. Konekomaru was always such a rule follower in Aito’s eyes, since when was he cool!? 

“Ah, yeah! Yeah it is!” Konekomaru laughed, seemingly as surprised. “Toss me the flowers! Just stand on the chain and pull yourself up!” he said, holding his hands out. Aito laughed and threw the flowers over the fence, quickly scrambling up and tossing himself over the gate. “Not your first time?” Konekomaru asked jokingly, noticing how easy it was for Aito. 

“Not by a long shot!” Aito laughed, noticing how the toss had knocked off even more petals from the flowers, essentially leaving Konekomaru holding a group of flower stems wrapped in plastic. It really didn’t bother him as much as it did before. Aito had more important things to focus on. “The last time I jumped a fence was last week. Ikuto and I were walking to school after spending the day with my mama,” Aito said, starting their walk down the park’s concrete pathway. “And we were walking past this little residential area when we passed this lady with a big ol’ bag. It really wasn’t anything weird- until her bag barked at me! Turns out she had a little toy dog in there, and the thing jumped out and started chasing me!” 

Aito continued the story dramatically, gesturing wildly as she went on about running and jumping and tricking the dog into a stolen hamster cage, as well as a short note about Ikuto making him return the dog. Aito was just in the middle of complaining about how Ikuto also made her return the cage when both of their ears perked up. They looked briefly to each other and then around the park to see what the source of the mechanical whirring was. 

Konekomaru noticed them first, grabbing Aito’s wrist and pointing to small black pillars in the grass, both immediately recognizing them- but it was already too late. 

They both ran as the sprinklers clicked to life, spraying water on the grass, the pathway, and the two boys. Aito- clearly tired of everything going wrong- laughed himself breathless as he was dragged along behind Konekomaru, the latter looking for somewhere to escape the water. “The bridge!” Aito squealed between laughs, pointing ahead to a small bridge overlooking a pitiful little creek. It was clearly only there for decoration, but it was also seemingly the only place not being drenched at the moment. The two ran over to the little bridge hand in hand, crashing into the siding in a fit of giggles. 

“So that’s why the park was closed!” Konekomaru laughed, roughing up his hair in a lazy attempt to dry it. He laughed harder as Aito shook her head like a dog fresh out of the bath, her hair puffing up a bit before she smoothed it out again. 

“Ko! I uh-” Aito started, his hand slipping into his pocket. “I… I kinda wanted to say something…” he sat down on the side of the bridge, still breathing a bit unnaturally- whether it be from all the running or what he wanted to say, neither of them seemed to know. Konekomaru nodded and sat down next to him, holding his grouping of stems to his chest. “Can you close your eyes real quick?” Aito asked, a bit nervously as he seemed to fidget with something in his pocket. Konekomaru wanted to ask, but he decided to just go along with it. There was a short pause after Konekomaru closed his eyes, and then a lot of shuffling- not the best thing to hear when you’re with Aito and have your eyes closed- but after a moment of waiting, Aito tapped his leg. “You can open them, Ko.”

When Konekomaru opened his eyes, he found Aito’s back turned to him. He looked up a bit and saw that she was holding-

“It’s ok!” Aito said, hand shaking a bit. “My quirk doesn’t work though mirrors!” He promised, blinking as Konekomaru steadied himself. Aito was holding a small handheld mirror, his bangs pushed back to finally show his entire face. It was the first time Konekomaru had actually seen him, fully. Aito struggled to look him in the eye- not like he didn’t want to but… it just seemed like his eyes would drift and he had to remind himself to look at Ko again. A habit he had developed while at UA as a… a second form of security. 

“You uh, you wanted to say something, Aito?” Konekomaru asked, smiling up at Aito through the mirror.

“Oh! Yes yes, I- I’m just- ok so… so I guess I just… ah…” Aito stuttered, completely unused to seeing someone look back like this. 

“You can do it, sugar.” Konekomaru cheered, reaching to pat Aito on the shoulder- but immediately stopping as his hand was whipped away by Aito’s tail. 

“Konekomaru!” Aito whined, quickly pulling the mirror down and leaning away from him. “I-I’m trying to focus! Let me think!” He barked, taking a moment to finally arrange her words before putting the mirror back up, his cheeks a soft shade of pink. 

“What I was trying to say!” Aito continued, brushing his bangs away from his eyes again. “Is that… you, Konekomaru, have excellent taste.” He basked momentarily in Konekomaru’s slightly confused expression, and then continued. “I uh… I know that… not a lot of people… like me.” He said, looking a bit to the side before remembering to look back at Konekomaru. “And that doesn’t get to me, you know but… I guess it’s just that… you know, people don’t like perfection. They idolize perfection, orbiting it, but… few actually choose to appreciate it for something more.

“People like to look at perfection, but they like to spend time with imperfection. Imperfect brings excitement- you know that a perfect person will be perfect, but you don’t know how an imperfect person will be imperfect. Like you, Ko! you’re smart, funny, sensitive and so- so genuinely kind! People understand you so well- you’re really good at calming me down and… and you can really surprise me from time to time.” He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind one of his pointed ears, and trying to keep them from flapping out of excitement.

“Konekomaru Yoshino… you’re pretty close to perfection.” Aito giggled, fighting back further laughter as he lost the fight with his flapping ears. “But you’re not. You’re not perfect- you are… perfectly imperfect.” Aito lowered the mirror again, fixing his bangs quickly before looking at Konekomaru. “You’re imperfect… but I like you better that way.” 

Aito noticed Konekomaru’s hand resting next to him and… dared to carefully rest his own on top. The perfect boyfriend… was nervous from time to time, but he’d never let it get in the way of the things he wanted. 

The perfect boyfriend didn’t realize how badly he wanted to hold his imperfect boyfriend’s hand till their fingers actually entwined. 

“Tonight… it really wasn’t what I planned.” Aito said, obviously. “But… I still liked it- I really really liked it.” He nodded, laughing a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“I liked it too!” Konekomaru said, mirroring Aito’s nodding and slightly nervous laughter. “I… I’m really happy we- You know we didn’t let everything get to us- the restaurant, the dog, the gate- tonight really wasn’t our night but… we kinda made it our night?” Konekomaru rambled, seeming to be just as nervously excited about this as Aito was. 

“Yes, our night.” Aito repeated, both turning to face the park grounds as the sprinklers finally turned off. Aito laughed exhaustedly, running her hand through her still damp hair as he tugged Konekomaru down the pathway again. “I’m real sleepy Ko- not to mention soaking wet, and a little sore from all that  running.”

Konekomaru nodded, falling into place next to her. “Same here. I think I’m still out of breath from the sprinklers” he joked, squeezing Aito’s hand shortly. “Ah, do you… need a napping buddy?”

Aito returned the hand squeeze hand nodded silently, resting her head on Konekomaru’s shoulder as they walked further down the path. “Yes, I do.” 

#aito takao #bnha oc comeback #knha // kimi no hero academia #konekomaru yoshino

[familylightfox]

     They were so far into the bunker that no one had a single clue at the moment of the four teens arrival. No one was able to alert the scientist and his would be assistant of the coming fury. Not even Volt knew until the hidden passage was being forced and he could feel the cold chill in the air. His daughter’s shout drew his gaze, as best he could, to where she was standing. 

     Edla had barely a second to register the teen before the room was filled with a painful purplish miasma. The pain paled in comparison to the fist that soon connected with his midsection and sent him flying into the far wall. Bones cracked upon impact and the linger smoke burned at his clothes and skin. His cry of pain came again as the space between them was closed and she brought her fist down on the arm that had been holding the scalpel.

     It barely even seemed to go noticed by Harmony as the hand that tried to strike in retaliation was caught by a glowing tendril and pinned into the wall by the palm. Illuminated emerald eyes were fixated on the wide brown eyes. She could see the terror clearly now that his glasses had been lost somewhere on the floor. Her hand grasping his shirt and slamming him once more into the crater she had made from her first punch.

     “You’re gonna pay fer hurtin’ my daddy!” Tears streamed down her face as she screaming at the cowering human. The only emotion fueling her at the moment was the pure malice and rage. 

     Edla had to pay for what he did… He would never hurt anyone ever again…      She’d kill him…

     Whisper had to do her best to avoid the purple mist that seemed to snap at anything that approached the teen, making her way over to Volt as he craned his neck as best he could to see Harmony. At least until he felt the hands on his shoulder. Violet eyes shifted and he tried to say something, momentarily forgetting that his vocal chords had been one of the first things they had fully removed from him and had damaged to keep him from screaming as they worked.

     Rather than try to explain, he tapped his clawless finger against the table as hard as he could to get her to look at the strap, then tapped it. Thankfully she understood what he wanted and removed it so he had free use of his limb again. The next thing he reached for was the rib spreader.

     “Hang on.” With his hand covered in his own fresh and dried blood, he’d struggle to get it off. It was easier for her to reach in with trembling fingers and remove it. The sound of his ribs settling back in place was nauseating but she pushed through it and soon he was taking a breath of relief before pointing to the tray of instruments. She looked it over, wincing at the sound of another blow from Harmony breaking more bones of Edla’s, and grabbed a pair of scissors.

     The subtle nod was all she needed to hand them off and took to getting the rest of the straps undone while he removed the stitches holding his skin open. Once he was done, he waved the wolf to back up and pulled the diodes from his temples. Almost instantly the room was plunged into near darkness. The only source of light the small crackling of electricity from Volt as his body healed itself…

     And the bright purple glow that flowed from around Harmony, along with the pulse of Chip Bracelet on her wrist.

     “Thanks.” It was all he could manage with his throat still raw and pushed himself off the gurney. Whisper reached out to help him when he stumbled but he shook his head.

     “Mr. Volt!” Tangle’s voice drew his gaze for just a minute as her and Buddy made to enter the room, pausing only when Whisper ran over to stop them. Seeing the damage to her cloak from Harmony’s energy was enough for them to hang back and allow Volt to approach.

     He could hear her hiccuping, labored breaths. Punch after punch was thrown and honestly the older hybrid was surprised that his creator was still breathing from the damage done to the wall underneath him. But it didn’t take him long to see that he wasn’t the only one who had experiments done. The miasma burned his skin but the healing was instantaneous enough that he could ignore it and place his trembling hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

     He should have expected the pain of the tendrils that were holding Edla against the wall but again ignored them to focus on the rage filled eyes that snapped in his direction.

     “Da-daddy…?” Just the one word, choked out between her harsh sobs. Her hand released Edla’s shirt to reach out. Fingers brushed through the bloodstained fur and her vision blurred as tears filled them. Both arms were quick to wrap around his middle and despite his appearance, Harmony buried her face as best she could in her father’s chest fur. The miasma dissipated and the tendrils released the man from the wall where he crumpled to the floor.

     The room fell into silence. Besides the wet wheezing of the scientist and harsh sobs from Harmony, there was no other noise. One by one the rest of the Rookies came into the room and approached the hybrid family. They looked around to make sure everything was safe, Buddy going over to where he saw the pile of Volt’s belongings and gathered them up as best he could. Tangle turned to look at her teammates with confusion.

     “Where’s that Starline guy?” In the midst of everything, it seemed the other had escaped. Volt looked down at his daughter and tried to calm her by gently combing her quills with his hand. If not for the quick shuffling he might have continued but his attention snapped to his creator. The unhinged anger directed towards his daughter from the man who had almost made his life a living nightmare once again.

     Time seemed to slow as the man reached for Harmony and Volt put himself between them. The feeling of flesh tearing as a knife pierced his back almost overtook the pain he was already in, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He turned, tearing the blade free and with a snarl buried it in the side of Edla’s skull.

     For a moment they all stood there, watching as the scientist raised his trembling hand towards his wound before it fell and the rest of him with it. Those wide unhinged eyes staring blankly forward as Volt let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

     “Is he…”

     “Yes…” That was the only answer Volt was able to give before looking to the four teens in an apology for all they had to see that day. To likely the countless horrors that might very well haunt them for Chaos only knew how long.

     “We should get out of here then.” Buddy cut the silence and Harmony nodded, trading her Warp Ring with Buddy so she could help to support her father and hold his gear. The sight of the inn’s garden was a welcome one to everyone as they stepped through. The cooler air refreshing to them all after spending far to long, in their opinions, inside that bunker. 

     Everything would be alright now… They were home, they were safe…

     Volt relief soon shifted to worry as his daughter’s weight shifted and he was forced to catch her before she dropped into the snow. Thank Chaos that Augustus was waiting for them all on the porch.

#Journal Page: Queue #Traveling The Multiverse: IC #Mobius Event: Abduction #IC Update: Part 2 #blood tw #Body Horror tw #gore tw #stabbing tw #death tw #ask to tag

[nonempyreal]

THE BONE CHILLING, SPINE TINGLING...NIGHT TERROR !! || THE BOYS VERSE.

A small town priest with delusions of grandeur meets a disgruntled R&D scientist looking for a project that will land him in the Vought execs' good graces. Think less sugar, spice, and everything nice, and more greed, corruption, and human rights violations.

And Chemical X! No, wait... It's Compound V.

Pastor Don is popular among the ladies of his congregation, and when a wave of "miracle babies" are born, he hatches a plan to "save" the souls of his flock...but mostly it's to save his own ass.

Dr. Engmire wants to win a Nobel prize. Even more than that, he wants to make more money and for his colleagues at Vought to take him seriously. A pastor from rural Missouri reaches out to him, pitching an idea that he can't say no to: inject these babies with Compound V to make the congregation think it's some kind of miracle, free reign for Dr. Engmire's lab to run whatever fuckin' experiments they want in the name of "sharing the gospel", and then, uhh...ritually sacrifice these kids once they're no longer useful so the church members can all ascend to heaven. Or something. Whatever keeps them from finding out the truth.

Haven is one of these "miracle babies". She can open portals with her hands and some of the churchgoers have taken to calling her the "Gatekeeper". She fucking hates that name.

Age 16, she overhears a conversation she's not supposed to. Something about the "trials" being almost complete. It's time for them to ascend soon. She's called in for routine tests; a physical, blood work, psych evals, etc. But this time is different.

She kills everyone in the lab. It's taxing on her powers and she passes out, waking up hours later covered in blood.

Haven runs as far as she can. For years now, she's managed to stay discrete. An unfortunate run-in with local law enforcement drives her to squash out sources of true evil. By day she works a number of odd jobs to pay rent on a shitty mobile home in a shitty trailer park, by night she tries to balance her need for thrill-seeking vigilante justice with staying off Vought's radar. Local news outlets pick up on a string of murders by a supe they're calling the Night Terror... Jesus, she mutters to herself, when are they gonna come up with something less corny?

#verses. #I'll add this to the page next time i get on my laptop

[angelic-guest]

The Morning After the Incident no.1

Avon Woke half expecting a strong grip keeping her from moving away. But there wasn’t any. No Raven black hair, bright orange eyes, no silly laugh. No, Bing?

she looked around her room and slowly stalked to the kitchen, maybe she’d slept in? Maybe she accidentlly fell asleep in a empty cabin? But no. . Her stuff is all here, and the clock says the usual time she got up.

her mind started Race on what happened during the Transformation. Did- No! She can’t think that way! She ran out the door almost breaking it off the hinges with a spare shirt Bing left in her cabin. She followed the trail to Engineer’s Welding center, and the sounds of Bing Yelping was heard.

She didn’t think and bust open the large metal door making Engineer Jump with Terror and Bing let out a light Yell. She sighed with relief til she saw the massive Bite mark in his arm, wires and metal showing as she just froze. “D-did I? Oh. . Oh no. I’m sorry I- I can’t. I-“ “Avon breathe. I’m okay, it was an accident.” Bing slowly slid off the table as her skin started mutating with the Iconic Swirls of a Kitsune, but a dark Navy blue.

“I-I hurt you. I could’ve killed you. Or a camper, or a Civillain?! Th-that doesn’t look like a accident! Your barely able to use it Bing!” She took a step back as Bing tried to get closer. “It’s my fault really, I spooked it and it bit me! Just a simple scratch haha.” He muttered the laugh as her tails fell between her legs in pure terror.

“Bing. I almost killed you. I could kill you. I could kill ANYONE! I shouldn’t have stayed after the curse took affect. I’m- I’m gonna go. Please heal and don’t look for me. I’ll- I’ll be somewhere I- I Don’t know yet.” She walked off before Bing could reach out, ears down and tail between her legs.

still in PJ’s as she broke out into a run as kids starting waking up as she bolted down the hill and jumped in the lake. Into the water cave.

crystals lit up the small air pocket as she curled up in a corner. Only eating whatever fish came up and decided to investigate. She felt nauseous of what happened, She- she almost killed someone, if that was a human, they’d be dead surely. Or if it was a kid?

she Hit her head trying to tap into the Fox’s memories to find out what happened. Only reviving blurry flashes of color all mushed together.

tears licked across her face as she curled up using her tails as a source of warmth. She didn’t know or care how long she was missing. Maybe even a good thing too. Nobody can get hurt again. She laid down hoping for answers from the Kitsune inside her that so desperately wanted to go feral in her dreams.

missing the sounds of the search party above screaming for her our over the lake.

poor Avon, feeling terrible for what was done to Bing. But really it wasn’t her fault at all

sure Bing had been terrified, but he’d been in plenty of scrapes before so this one shouldn’t be any different, right?

right…?

#112 #angel inquiries #angel council