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#been lucky enough that there has never been a First Incident
d10nyx · 5 months
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can't fight this feeling
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
part one, part two
cw: 18+ content, stepcest, panty stealing, non-con, somnophilia, perv leon, p in v, creampie, voyeurism, brief mention of baby-trapping, just general creepy behaviour from leon, photos and videos taken w/o permission
a/n: this is basically just creepy stepbrother leon. he's real weird and kind of an incel lmao. definitely written with re2r leon in mind. mentions of him being a police officer. the raccoon city incident never happened in this!!
word count: 1.8k words
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Leon had never been the best with girls. It wasn't his fault - really! He just had a habit of coming off a little creepy, definitely came on too strong when he was trying to ask girls out. He fell hard and fast, convinced he was in love with a girl if she was so much as nice to him.
He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance!
He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.
He meets you at the wedding, and he's instantly sure you're the one. He's pretty chill for the first few weeks that you two start living under the same roof, him as your sweet step-brother. He always dotes on you, takes you out for rides in his patrol car and takes you shopping.
He deserves a reward for all of that, right?
Well, he doesn't want to scare you off. Not when you're the first girl to actually give him attention. Doesn't matter if you're his sister now. You're so sweet and cute. His cock throbs every time you smile at him, and he's starting to get used to the perpetual erection he sports in your presence.
He starts off pretty slowly. Offers to help you out with your washing, pocketing a pair of used panties for later and washing the rest of your stuff. Holds them up to his face when he's alone in his room at night, inhaling the scent of you and rubbing his cock raw, cumming over and over until it's practically just water and his dick has friction burn.
The only issue is that once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. It escalates pretty quickly. He starts spying on you in the shower, one hand rubbing his aching cock while the other records you washing yourself. He likes the souvenir, and he needs the material for when he can't sneak in to watch you.
He ends up completely cutting out porn. Why would he need it? He's got enough material of you to keep him busy for a while, and he makes it his passion to gather more. Starts sneaking into your room when you're sleeping just to slip your panties to the side and get some close-up shots of your fat, juicy pussy.
Another problem that arises is that he keeps getting bolder. You've almost caught him so many times, and he knows he has to move quickly before you catch on. He flirts with you jokingly a few times, pushing down the anger that bubbles in his chest when you make a remark like ‘ewww, you're like, my brother, Lee. That's so gross!’.
Fine. If you didn't want him, he'd take it into his own hands. It was honestly way too easy to slip a sleeping pill into your nighttime tea. You had been living together for a good 6 months now, and you trusted him more than anyone. He smiles sweetly when he brings it to you before bed, ruffling your hair playfully before saying goodnight and heading to his room.
Not that he stays out for long. He's sneaking back into your room a few hours later when he's sure your parents are sleeping. He walks up to your bed, phone in hand - there's no way he's missing out on getting this on camera.
“Hey, sis? You awake?” He asks softly, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you. He grins widely when you don't budge, sleeping peacefully with one of your legs thrown over the cover. He really is so grateful you sleep in nothing but a shirt and panties. Makes this thing a whole lot easier.
His hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, palm sliding up your soft skin. His blood all rushes to his cock, and it's already twitching eagerly in his sweats, leaking enough pre-cum that a wet spot forms in his boxers.
His eyes stay locked onto your face as his fingers graze your panties. His breath hitches when you let out a deeper breath, and he stills to make sure you're not waking up. When he's sure the coast is clear, he reaches for the hem of them and slides them down your legs carefully, phone camera trained on your legs while his eyes refuse to look away from your face. He can't afford to get caught, not yet.
He's leaky and dripping when he finally gets your panties off. He moved slowly, not willing to risk anything. He's a but bolder now that you're exposed to his eyes, taking in how pretty you are. His breath stutters in his chest, his eyes wide and lips parted.
He dips two of his fingers between your folds and spreads them apart to give him a good look at you. He makes sure his phone stays angled at you, not wanting to miss a second of this. He slides his thumb along your clit clumsily, trying to copy what he saw in a video online one time. He suppresses a whine at how wet it makes you, arousal dripping down and making his thumb all sticky.
He can't wait any longer. He sets his phone down to wriggle out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off and letting them drop to your floor. He settles carefully on the mattress between your legs, gripping your thighs to spread your legs a little wider, careful not to jog you too much.
He moves a hand to the base of his cock so he can position himself at your entrance, his eyes unable to tear away from the sight. He's forgotten about his phone which is still recording face-down in the sheets somewhere. This has all of his attention now.
He can't help but moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance. You gasp softly in your sleep, shifting slightly. He doesn't notice. He also doesn't really care, to be frank. This feels too good to worry about anything else - the way your tight, wet heat engulfs his length inch by inch. He couldn't think about anything else if he tried.
He fills the familiar tightening of his balls as he fully pushes into you, his eyes widening as he moans again, his cock twitching as he cums inside of you. His breath catches in his throat, and he just stares down at you for a few minutes.
“Fuck…” He murmurs, voice cracking slightly. He's still hard - he's not sure he could ever go soft with you wrapped around him so nicely. But he didn't think he'd cum that soon. His cheeks are a bright red, and he's glad he decided it would be better to have his first time while you were asleep. That could have been embarrassing.
He starts shifting his hips, whimpering at the sensitivity he feels from just cumming. His eyes water slightly, but the tears don't fall past his lash line. He has to bite his lip to make sure he doesn't moan too loudly. He couldn't imagine waking you up like this. Or worse, his dad or your mom.
“Mmph… I'm so sorry, sis.” He whimpers as he starts to move faster, his hips rabbiting back and forth. His movements are sloppy and clumsy, every thrust pushing more of his cum out. He can't help but shiver at the sight, quickly fumbling for his phone so he can capture it.
“Couldn't help it.” He says weakly, voice breathy as he continues to fuck you, causing you to rock gently on the mattress. “You look… ah, fuck… so pretty. So nice to me…”
One hand grips your hip to steady your body as the other shakily holds his phone, recording the slip of his cock in your wet pussy. You're dripping all over his length, making the prettiest little gasps and whimpers despite being asleep.
“See baby?” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. He's already close again. Fuck. Why did you have to feel so good?
“Even when you're asleep, your pussy sucks me in… fuck… s'good. Best thing I ever felt…” He whines, thrusting harshly into you now, gripping your hip tight as he stares at the way your face scrunches up, checking for any signs of the pills wearing off.
He cries out your name as he cums again, his brows furrowing as he buries himself to the hilt in your tight cunt, shooting thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. Finds himself hoping you're not on birth control. If he can get you pregnant, you'd have no choice but to be his... right?
He shakes the thought away, pulling out of you with a whimper. He leans down slightly, recording your puffy pussy for a few seconds as his cum starts to drip out before shutting off the phone camera.
He just stares at you for a while as you leak his cum, the sight making him hard all over again. It almost physically pains him to clean it up, but he knows he has to. He can't have you catching on to what he was doing too early. He doesn't want to risk his chances of doing this again.
He cleans you up carefully, making sure that no sign of what happened remains. He pulls your panties back on carefully, patting your ass gently before giving you a loving kiss on the cheek and scrambling off to his room.
He doesn't let out the breath he was holding until he's safely tucked back into bed. He jerks off to the video he took, pouting when he realises he was too distracted to record him sliding in for the first time. He sighs, but continues watching the video, cumming for the third time that night before going to bed.
He can tell you wake up sore the next morning when your brows furrow as you sit at the kitchen counter, confusion written all over your features.
Ever the doting brother, he offers you a sweet smile and slides a cup of tea over to you, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, as if he didn't know exactly what that face was for.
"Everything alright, sis?”
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autophage · 3 months
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The slow but incessant rain of anvils began in 1942.
George Macomber was walking from the trolley stop to his home in Great Falls (a name which many newspapers took advantage of in their lede selection) when a two-ton Bavarian fell out of the sky, landing squarely on top of poor George. He was Flattened instantly.
And, seconds later, he slid out from beneath the anvil, with a new height of one and a half millimeters. He had become, in an instant, the densest human being on the planet.
George Macomber happened to look up just before impact. This saved his life: because he was the first to ever be Flattened, the extremely-high-density intravenous fluid setup had not yet been invented, and no hospital could have kept him hydrated if his mouth were not accessible on his topside. (Iris Colelman invented the extremely-high-density intravenous setup in 1947, after hundreds had perished due to dehydration mere days after their Flattening.)
In another twist of good fortune, George Macomber had served as a signal officer in the Navy during the Great War and knew Morse code. While his vocal chords were capable only of producing an awful gurgling, he could still communicate by blinking - a trick that the doctors recognized quickly. And so he was able, painstakingly, to describe the characteristic sound of the anvil's descent: a terrifying descending whistle, like the slide-flute sound used for falling bombs in animated reels.
His story is not all a happy one, though. Some who are Flattened eventually pop back up to their former stature, but poor Mr. Macomber never did. While his medical condition remained stable, his wife divorced him and he had trouble finding employment. Seven years after his Flattening, he stopped eating or drinking. His final words, blinked to his nurse, are lost to history; she felt that she owed him her silence, even as she was fired and eventually prosecuted for letting him pass in this manner. The court asserted that she should have immobilized him and given him a high-density drip.
Only twenty-three days after George's Flattening, Irma Childress was returning from the bakery when a six-ton farrier's anvil hurtled down and Flattened her. She, too, was lucky enough that her mouth remained accessible. Her story is happier than George's - she was also the first person to pop back up to her normal height. It took her six months, and those must have been worse than George's, as she did not know Morse code - though she learned it and was proficient by her third Flattened month.
Even after regaining her former height, Irma remained wary of doors, stairs, and any place with high foot traffic. She sold her house in Los Angeles and moved out to an almond farm. She spoke to the press repeatedly and respectfully, and to this day is remembered as an early and passionate advocate for keeping the Flattened comfortable and helping them maintain their dignity.
Nobody has discovered where the anvils come from. They fall primarily in North America, most often in the southwest and midwest. Some suspect that they are flung by tornados, or some sort of awful prank, or military test flights. They are always of recent manufacture, indicated by a date stamp, but never a maker's mark.
The rate of Flattenings increased until the late 50's, at a peak of a bit over 100,000 in 1958. Today, the rain has slowed: there are usually between one and two thousand Flattenings a year. This incident rate has held steady since the early 1980's. This is unusual, since far fewer anvils are manufactured or used today than were in the 1940's. Of those Flattened, about half pop back to their previous height, usually between two months and a year after their initial Flattening.
It was difficult for the Flattened to connect with each other before modern video conferencing - those who were lucky enough to look up before their Flattening can see above themselves, but cannot see in front of themselves, and it is generally difficult for the Flattened to orient themselves otherwise. The Flattened of today generally stay on a table with a tablet above them, modified to use eye tracking for navigation. (Of course, this only really works with Flattened whose eyes are on their top- or bottom-sides; those with eyes facing forward, or whose faces were crushed into their bellies, can usually hear, but have a very hard time making themselves understood.) Regardless of orientation they are helped by dedicated care nurses who changes their IV fluids. These nurses are provided by Flattening insurance, offered by all major insurance providers; they often also take over some of the responsibilities the Flattened previously held, such as taking care of their children.
Sadly, the provisions surrounding Flattening insurance have changed in the last twenty years. Most nurses make less than 20% above minimum wage, and are afforded very little flexibility by the job, which requires them to attend the Flattened's household around the clock. They become very close with those they care for - in many cases they develop shorthands to make communication easier, such as diacritic modifications to the blinked Morse code.
While the Irma Childress Foundation is the leading voice for Flattening insurance reform, some long-term Flattened feel that their concerns are often not heard. They contend that the Foundation often bargains away provisions that could help some edge cases - especially those with limited communication capabilities.
Some of the Flattened have started pooling resources to buy land and build a city suited to their own needs, to wean themselves off of the marginal succor offered by the insurance system. We who stand tall must support them. We must afford them not only the dignity of doing our best not to step on them, but to self-determination. We must acknowledge that their lives are all unique and different. We must refuse, if you will pardon the pun, to flatten their experiences into one single narrative.
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physalian · 4 months
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Plot Holes and How to Fill Them (Or, The Hidden Potential in Your Mistakes)
“But why didn’t they just do that earlier!”
“You can time travel – so time travel!”
“Doesn’t X have Y spell? Why aren’t they using it to escape?”
“You. Have. Telekinesis! How are you this stupid?”
Plot holes! The bane of every writer’s existence. You think you’ve polished your beautiful manuscript, you have it all sent out for the masses to consume and praise and shower with compliments and adoration… and then they start tugging at a thread that may or may not begin to unravel your entire story. You’ve read this thing top to bottom, forwards and backwards and upside down, so many times the letters are burned into your brain. You mumble your monologues in your sleep — how did you not see this? How do you fix this?
See this post about beginning the writing process that might help you avoid opening a plot hole entirely with a solid enough script and outline.
Types of Plot Holes
Your magic system’s established rules have just been broken for TeNSioN
Your Deus Ex Machina really did come out of nowhere and is quite out of character
Why doesn't Character just run away from a fight they can't win?
Characters forgetting they have superpowers, extreme intelligence, handy tools or weapons, survival skills, common sense, or crucial information to escape and/or solve a situation
Characters dying for the above mistakes when said death could have been avoided
The entire story could have been avoided had Character A just told Character B the truth
Character X should have known ___ all along given their profession/backstory/friend circle/education/personality
And variations of the above, I’m sure I’m missing a couple. Fixing plot holes generally come in two camps: Those you can fix by rewriting the existing manuscript that contains the hole, or those you have to work around from a previous manuscript that’s already been published.
Why Plot Holes Happen
Plot holes happen in reality. Expecting your first, second, or 15th draft to be completely foolproof is utter nonsense. Real people forget stuff they’re supposed to know all the time, tools that would be useful are left behind, GroupThink makes very bad decisions.
The difference is: You are writing fiction. Your goal is to be entertaining, not necessarily realistic. A character simply *forgetting* Macguffin X at the climax of the story does not make for an entertaining read, no matter how likely it might be to happen in the real world.
You’re making this entire world up as you go and that alone is an impressive feat millions of others can only dream about – cut yourself some slack, okay? Everything is fixable.
Plot holes also happen because we’re so engrossed in our own story that we forget it’s all made up. You’re 22 chapters into a 24 chapter novel and you’ve just realized your psychic hero would never have been caught unawares like this. “But that’s just how he is!”
No. Stop. That’s not just how he is. That’s just how you wrote him – and you can go back and un-write him. Any excuse you can dream up you can un-write, and unfortunately, you’ll likely have to do a fair bit of it if you still have the opportunity.
Plot holes generally open long after the inciting incident that causes them. If you’re going to fix it, duct-taping together a solution in that very same scene isn’t the way to do it. You have to figure out why it’s a hole at all, then go back and fix its foundations.
Finding Your Own Plot Holes
Sometimes you’re lucky enough to stumble upon them before it’s too late. A fair bit of the time, though, your audience has to tell you. Finding your own plot holes requires stepping back from your work and looking at it like you’re just a reader, not the author.
Read your plot out loud to yourself and keep asking questions like:
Does this make sense for the scene?
Does this only exist to look cool at the cost of logic?
Are these rules I wrote too easy to break or contradictory in any way?
Is there any other way for this character to escape this situation?
Is the only solution here too contrived?
That, and having an army of beta readers who should show you flaws you’ve overlooked. Even then, some things just aren’t obvious at all until someone too smart for their own good points out something no one else considered before.
It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world.
Filling Plot Holes
Fix your broken magic system
A “magic system” broadly describes any type of powers/abilities/supernatural entities that function in your world. They can be in high fantasy, urban fantasy, sci-fi, or any genre really. The Force is a magic system, as much as is bending in Last Airbender even if no one calls it “magic”.
For example: Force users are telekinetic… and yet don’t simply repeatedly spam the “chuck my enemies into a wall/off a cliff/anywhere that is away from me” button. It’s what you’d call a “soft” magic system, it doesn’t have explicit rules on how and when it can and should be used. It just *is*.
Fixing holes in your magic system first demands examining why you wrote it the way you did, why you gave it these specific rules, or why you didn’t, and all the ways characters should otherwise be able to use it when your story demands they get creative.
For soft magic systems — never let the magic system win the day. It invites far too much scrutiny. Gandalf from Lord of the Rings is a Wizard. He can do an undefined number of spells and has an unclear number of abilities and limit to his reach. Gandalf’s magic is never the saving grace of the Fellowship. So asking “why didn’t Gandalf just do X” isn’t ever a question people have because success never depends on Gandalf doing X.
Everyone hates on the time turner in Harry Potter, as they should. Time travel is essential to the plot of Prisoner of Azkaban, without it the heroes fail. And yet, because it is time travel, why it never existed earlier and why they never use it again to solve more massive plot problems is a valid question. As goes with many spells and abilities in the series.
For hard magic systems — remember that you wrote the rules, you can go back and change them at any time before it’s published. Bending in Last Airbender is rarely the focus of any conflict. Yes, two benders will fight each other, but it’s not “who’s the stronger bender,” it’s “who’s smarter with their element”. Who better uses their environment? Which one is racing against a clock before reinforcements arrive and overwhelm them? Which one runs the risk of exposing themselves if they start bending? Whose mental state is crippling their bending today?
These are all character-driven explanations for why certain abilities do or don’t manifest in a given scene… until the finale when it really is just a clash of red and blue aura lasers.
There is never a scene where a character is trapped when they shouldn’t be. Never a “why didn’t you just X” moment, because it’s never about the bending, it’s about the bender.
Turn plot-reasons into character-reasons
This means taking a “why don’t they just do X” and making the reason because one of the protagonists is morally against doing it, not because the hand of the author demands it.
In Last Airbender, Aang is vocally against simply killing the Fire Lord. It would be easier, it would risk far less casualties and carnage, it’s fastest. And yet. Aang doesn’t do it simply because he’s not strong enough or he doesn’t have some magical super weapon, or the stars have aligned and now he’s lost a very convenient ability – Aang doesn’t want to take the easy road because that’s who he is as a person.
He’s been raised as a monk to value the preservation of life above all else (ignoring any accidental casualties over the course of the series). Him being desperate to not simply kill Ozai is central to his character and even when he has the chance in the climax of the fight, he still doesn’t take it.
Now “why didn’t you do that earlier” does, still, concern the “energy bending” established out of nowhere just for the finale so Aang doesn’t have to compromise his morals to win… but the show is so damn good and Ozai’s just desserts so damn sweet it doesn’t really matter.
Making these plot decisions character decisions, so long as they are in-character, gives some juicy potential for schisms within Team Protagonist as fan favorites clash over ideals and morals and whether or not the greater good is worth them sacrificing something so central to their being.
This also applies to characters not sharing crucial information with each other. Make them distrustful of the others, or let them attempt it anyway and have some other consequence for the effort. Anything is better than a character sitting on valuable info simply to maintain the mystery.
Avoid Deus Ex Machinas
The “surprise reinforcement cavalry charge” is one of my favorite deus ex machinas in fantasy. Everybody cheers, it looks amazing, the music is swelling, our heroes on the battlefield realize they haven’t been forsaken by their friends, etc. In Lord of the Rings, yes, Theoden could have arrived 30 minutes earlier and saved even more lives, but we already knew he was on his way moving as fast as he could without exhausting his horses. Theoden’s army also took care of the bulk of the battle so when Aragorn arrives with the second surprise reinforcements, it’s less a decisive blow that comes out of nowhere and more the victory lap.
In “Battle of the Bastards,” Game of Thrones has its third surprise cavalry charge of the series, only this one much more explicitly comes to save the day. The difference between this scene and Theoden’s charge is: Audiences had no idea Littlefinger was on his way, and neither did Jon Snow. Had Sansa told him she had a plan, Jon could have waited. He wasn’t backed against a wall and forced to fight right then and there, he could have stalled an extra hour by just not showing up to the battlefield to wait for his cavalry. With Sansa inexplicably not telling him, she risked his life and the lives of his entire army because the hand of the writers wanted to keep it a surprise. Worst of all, when the battle is over, he compliments her decision, despite all the blood on her hands.
Surprise reinforcements, saviors, powers, and abilities always run the risk of “why didn’t they do that earlier” and you should be asking yourself the same question. If you can’t come up with an explanation other than “because it’ll look cool” go back to the drawing board.
Or, have your very own characters pissed that the savior didn’t just do that earlier. Have your characters ask where this special power was, have it mean something to them and the story at large. Had Jon been angry with Sansa, given their incredibly pyrrhic victory and the potentially avoidable death of their youngest brother, it might’ve made for some interesting character drama.
Give your saving graces deadly costs
“Why didn’t they just do X earlier?”
“Because doing X would have killed Character D, dummy.”
Giving your super special magic, mutant, super, or supernatural powers costs, drawbacks, and limitations forces the characters who use them to not resort to them every single chance they get. Their magic drains their physical stamina, or the demon they made a deal with camping in their brain threatens to overtake their psyche, or the sword is cursed and every time the hero raises it in battle, they lose a little piece of themselves. Or, using this creepy power strains their relationship with their friends or community.
Without risk and consequences, you cannot avoid “why didn’t they do that earlier,” because the only answer you have to give is “because I, the author, said so.” The only time a character is allowed to have selective amnesia about their superpowers is if it’s been established beforehand as a potential problem. Then it’s not “this came out of nowhere.” Then your audience is dreading the entire time waiting for that chekhov’s gun to fire.
Don’t compromise your story for sensationalism
I can complain about ~subverting expectations~ in another post, but what I mean here is this: Are you writing this scene purely for shock value, for the sake of a twist, because a story this grim demands at least one character death, or because it’s going to look epic?
In this post about pacing and this post about how to write tone, I talked about making your scenes pull double duty. You can write a scene for shock and awe, but if it’s at the expense of a character’s integrity or intelligence, come up with another way to make it spectacular.
You want the villain to monologue to give the heroes time to save the world? Then write a villain with an ego and personality that would monologue. You want the hero to be a one-man-army? Then write their personality as the lone wolf type and have it be a flaw of theirs that they keep striking out alone, consequences be damned.
You absolutely need the hero to not take the easy road and fight the bad guy without using their most effective weapon? Give them a reason to stall this fight. Maybe they really do need to simply run out a clock, or they don’t actually want to kill/subdue their opponent, or in doing so, the villain’s death is what causes the Bad Thing to happen.
If I write a character that can kill with just a look, every time I put them in a dangerous situation I need to then justify why they don’t do that over and over again, unless it’s by their own stubborn integrity that they choose not to.
If I write a villainous plan so devious and well thought out, the only thing standing in the way is living protagonists? I need a reason the villain doesn’t just murder the heroes every chance they get. Maybe they’re internally struggling over actually going through with it, or their ego demands the hero doesn’t get a quick or honorless death, or they do actually need a living hero for the plan to work.
Fixing Plot Holes in Sequels
All of the above is advice for issues within the same manuscript. What happens if you’ve already published and have the chance to address a known plot hole in the sequel?
About the worst thing you can do is slap in a throwaway line or hasty explanation to cover your ass. Everyone reading and watching will notice. Saying nothing is better than saying that.
See the duct-tape in Rise of Skywalker when the heroes explained that they couldn't just hypersspace-jump another ship into the enemy fleet because it worked so horribly effectively last time. Doesn't matter that they could have put it on autopilot or sacrificed a droid, or that, at any point in the history of Star Wars, someone else could have and should have done this desperate maneuver. For the sake of "looking cool" it opened an entire sinkhole.
Less a “hole” and more an inconsistency — the pegasus Blackjack in Percy Jackson is explicitly a mare, a female horse, in one book, and then inexplicably male in later books. Why? Well the author made a mistake, simple as that. He did *not* attempt to explain this error away or dig the hole deeper. It just is. Though I’m not sure why Blackjack couldn’t just stay a mare and how he didn’t reference the previous book when writing the sequel is a bit baffling.
If your heroes can no longer use the Deus Ex Machina they used before – have them attempt to use it, and then come up with a solid reason why it’s not possible. Maybe it was one-time use, or the savior simply doesn’t want to, or the cost/risk is too high to attempt it again, or it simply can’t be found and it’s very frustrating.
Have the heroes be morally opposed to doing what they did before, or overconfident, or skeptical that it will even work again only for that choice to bite them in the ass later. Have the magic item all used up, the recipe to recreate it lost to history. There’s a hundred better excuses than the hand of the author simply saying so.
If you aren’t going to write a sequel and you accept living with the plot hole unfilled… chances are people are going to love the story despite its flaws. Harry Potter is the poster child of “why didn’t they use X spell to solve the problem” or “they have a spell for X, yet they don’t have a spell for Y?” and how many people love that story?
In the end, a plot hole can be tiny or massive and chances are the story you told is entertaining enough to make up for it. It’s just a story, it’s just fiction. Learn from your mistakes so the next piece you create is even better.
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myrskytuuli · 5 months
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I've seen few dreamling Star Trek AUs, but I keep thinking about canon dreamling in the Starfleet era future.
The moment humanity makes first contact, Hob Gadling obvioulsy makes it his next goal to get up there and start exploring as soon as possible. New Frontiers! New species! New experiences!
Which great. He's good enough at being just the most normal (surprisingly lucky and durable) red shirt, just there, doing his job. Nothing weird to see here, no sir. Too bad that he managed to get a job at the Enterprise, the galaxy's most ridiculous incident prone ship. And as the Enterprise incidents(TM) keep happening, so does the niggling feeling that there's something fucking funky going on with Ensign Gadling. he has....a very surprising range of skills and knowledge. And that boyfriend of his...is always there when they have shore-leave, no matter how implausible it would be for him to travel the distances with the speed he does with Federation spacecraft. Nobody can sus out what his job is, but it has to be some very high level federation one for his and Gadling's shore-leave's always to align.
But the most disturbing thing about the boyfriend(TM) is how the first glimpse any of the crew gets of him is always always just a bit fucked up.
For a second, before he blinks and realises that that is just Gadling and his partner sitting down on a spaceport café, Spock could have sworn that sitting across the man was Run S'haile made flesh, appearance just like the statues now gathering dust in Vulcan ancient history museums. And the andorian officer could have sworn that for a blink there she saw the Sparkling King of All Fantasies walking hand in hand with Ensign Gadling, before the image settled to two humans walking side by side. And one calm night a tellarite engineer spots ensign Gadling snuggling and star-gazing by one of the ship windows with The Great Nightmare Beast of Sleeping Terrors and decides to get the fuck back to her own quarters and try to never think of it again.
And it really doesn't help that while your average sentients aren't anymore impressed by Gadling than the agressively boring and normal man warrants, it has been more than once that the Cosmic Entity With Unimaginable Powers of the week has gotten suspiciously polite when Gadling enters the scene.
In a normal Starfleet ship Gadling might be able to fly under radar, but USS Enterprise is not a normal ship and the crew is starting to get the heebie jeebies...
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sopebubbles · 11 months
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Nine
Master list
Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.
Chapter summary: encounters with people from your past challenge your future with the pack.
Warnings: people generally being assholes, mentions of blood, car accident
WC: 8.2k
A/N: when i came home and said i wanted to write, beastie said "make it hurt" so lets blame this on her.
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It's been three weeks since the pack left for the new house, leaving Yoongi and Jimin behind to fix some minor repairs on the old house and wait for you. Just this morning, Yoongi had finished patching up a hole in the drywall where Namjoon had once tripped and pushed his hand through just with his own strength. But there was still no sight or scent of you.
Yoongi had just finished making a sandwich when the front door opened and Jin walked in. 
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Yoongi grumbled before biting into his lunch.
"I came to see you," Jin replied, almost convincingly casual.
"Why?" The younger man asked with a full mouth.
Jin sighed, he genuinely wanted to be pleasant. This wasn't the first time he had come to the house and wanted to patch things up with Yoongi, but the man wasn't making it easy with his cold behavior. Still, Jin decided it would be best to be upfront so he could have a real conversation with him. "We got an offer on the house this morning."
Yoongi paused mid bite before he continued and chewed without responding.
"I wanted to run it by you," Jin continued.
Yoongi snorted. "What does it have to do with me? It's your house, yours and Hoseok's. The one your parents bought you. I've never been anything but a guest here."
"That's not true, Yoongi. You know it's not. You're an important part of our lives. I know I was selfish, but please give me a chance to show you how sorry I am and how much I love you," Jin begged. "I'll do anything."
Yoongi turned his head away, unable to look Jin in the eyes. "The only thing I want right now isn't something you can give me," he admitted. He wished that he could think of anything other than you, but even patching things up with Jin wasn't something that he could focus on for very long.
"You still haven't seen her?" Jin asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.
"Looks like she really doesn't need me to be her alpha. Hoseok was right."
Jin took a step closer, wishing he could get close enough to comfort his packmate. He'd still think of Yoongi that way no matter what. "I'm certain Hobi didn't mean that. And she doesn't seem to know what she needs, to be honest. She'd be incredibly lucky to have you as an alpha, Yoongi." 
He couldn't respond, too choked up on his own emotions. He knew that Jin was right, because he knew he'd be the best alpha possible to you, but right now he was just a mess. 
"One of the ways my mom has used to get inside my head is telling me that you want to take the pack alpha position from me," Jin admitted. 
Yoongi looked at him with surprised eyes and lifted brows. "When have I ever made you think I wanted to do that?"
Jin shrugged. "You kinda have pack alpha energy. Even my mom noticed it the few times she met you. And ever since we met you've always argued with me. Honestly, since you came to us I've always been a little insecure about it."
Yoongi laughed quietly. "To be completely honest, when I first met you guys I thought maybe I could take the leader position from you. But as soon as I got to know you, I didn't feel like I needed to."
"What changed your mind?"
"The way that you treated Tae after the incident. You were so gentle and caring with him. You never made him feel bad for what happened or shamed him. You just took care of him. And then I knew you would take care of all of us, so that's when I remember falling for you."
Jin frowned. "I'm sorry I didn't live up to that version of myself."
"You can probably do it again," Yoongi shrugged.
"I promise, I'm really trying." A moment of silence passed between them but the air felt a little lighter. "Will you and Jimin come home, please? It won't be right for any of us until you guys are there. We all miss you both."
Yoongi nodded sadly, "I guess I can't wait for her forever."
"Hobi has been putting together a room for her," Jin told him, but it only seemed to make Yoongi's heart stink further. "You will find her, Yoon."
"How?" Yoongi breathed.
"I don't know. There's this old thing that people used to talk about, called fated mates. No one really believes in them anymore. But the idea is, some people are meant to come into your life, and I don't think you would feel like this for no reason."
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If you're wondering why you haven't gone to Yoongi yet, it's because things were actually going quite well for you, at least by comparison. One company on Jimin's list stood out to you immediately. The cleaning service was owned by an omega named Ana, and you learned that she was particularly passionate about helping other omegas who escaped abusive situations like she had. She knew working gave you the ability to be independent, but that it wasn't easy to keep up. She took one look at you and knew you were exactly the kind of girl who needed her help. Jimin's name only sealed the deal, though she didn't bother to call him up. When she said someone was needed to clean at the public library, you jumped at the chance to work somewhere you already knew. 
It had been three weeks now, and everything was going well, by your standards. You were still staying at the shelter, but you'd already gotten your first paycheck and in a month or two you might be able to get yourself out of there. For the first time in several months, you felt like things might be okay.
It was almost the end of your shift when you saw them. They were standing in the aisle you were about to turn down to dust, but you pulled back as soon as their scents hit you and hid yourself behind the end of the row of shelves. Sure, those scents could belong to anyone. Everyone's scent was unique, but lots of people shared general scents. You were hardly the only apple scented omega in the world. But the combination of chestnut and pine was too familiar. It had layered the pack's house and mingled in a uniquely homey way. You were certain that it was Seokjin and one of his other alphas. You'd never gotten his name. You'd never even spoken to him or looked at him directly. For good reason, too. He was absolutely massive, standing at least a foot over you. One look at his hands and you knew that he could kill you if you upset him. Seokjin was tall and broad as well, and Taehyung was not much smaller at all, but for some reason it was the unnamed one that terrified you most. The two of them together were downright terrifying, and your brain did a good job of reminding you of that every time your inner voice started longing for Yoongi or Jimin or Hoseok.
You decided to turn back the way you came before they could smell you, too. You could hide in your custodian's closet for the next twenty minutes of your shift. It was Saturday and the library would be closed tomorrow. A little dust could wait until Monday morning.
You emerged from the closet at the end of your shift, having changed out of your cleaning uniform and into jeans and Yoongi's hoodie. It didn't smell like him anymore, but you were reminded of his scent every time you used the citrus scented cleaner for the floors. It was a mockery of his natural smell, but it brought him to mind nonetheless. Few scents have been imprinted into your brain as deeply as that one. There was a card in the front pocket of the hoodie, just a small rectangle with a name and contact information printed on it and Jimin's neat, careful numbers written on the back. The cardstock had lost its stiffness after the hours you've spent clutching it, the corners were tearing from all the worrying of your fingernails, like they were doing now.
Go catch them, she whispered in your head as you watched two tall, broad sets of shoulders walk through the doors of the library.
You know what Seokjin will do to you. 
You don't know. Yoongi wouldn't let him.
Round and round they went again, never giving you a moment's peace. 
Please call Jimin.
You walked toward the information desk where Maria sat at her computer, next to the phone.
"All done for today, Y/N?" Maria asked with a pleasant smile. You nodded.
"Can I use your phone to make a call? Mine was stolen. It's local."
"Yeah, of course. Just dial nine to call out," she said as she turned the telephone toward you.
This is a bad idea.
You picked up the receiver and pulled out the card from your pocket. You dialed nine, then five, and then you froze. A scent filled your nose, one that you hadn't smelled in many years. One you thought you'd never smell again. It was spearmint stronger than any gum or mouthwash. His scent was always so potent, you were amazed your sap parents couldn't smell it. How could they have thought he was one of them? You turned to look for him, but he saw you first.
"Y/N?"
"Eli?" You asked, astonished. You couldn't have expected to see him in this city. 
"What are you doing here?" He wondered, stepping close to you. For a moment you thought he might try to hug you, but you were never like that with your adopted brother. You hadn't seen him since you were thrown out of your parents house, and you always figured it was best that way. 
The years between his presentation and yours had been tense. You could smell him as soon as his scent started to develop. It was the first sign you had that you wouldn't turn out sap like they said you might—truthfully, your average sapiens don't understand the genetics of cross-breeding that well. And of course he was terrified of you giving away his secret, no matter how vehemently you vowed that you wouldn't. You only ever hoped you could be as lucky as him. To be a beta and to go undetected for as long as possible. But it didn't work out like that for you, and all these years you might have resented him a bit for that. 
"I work here," you confessed, looking around as people went about their business in the library. Maria looked to be paying you no mind. "I just finished. What brings you here?" 
"Just returning some books. Are you free?"
You finally placed the receiver back in its cradle and removed your hand. "Yeah, what did you have in mind?"
"Are you hungry?" Eli asked. You were and you weren't. On the one hand you hadn't eaten yet that day, but on the other, your stomach was twisted in its usual knots. You nodded anyway.
Eli took you to a diner close by and promised he was paying so you could order anything you wanted. You ordered a cheese burger to try to pack in as many calories as you could in one meal. 
"Do you still talk to them?" You asked quietly after you'd run out of small talk. Eli held your gaze for a moment before he answered.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "It's not like they were ever big talkers. But they know I'm here and about my job, my fiance."
"Fiance?"
"Yeah. We're planning to get married next year." You nodded thoughtfully. "She's sap, and she doesn't know about me," he admitted, unprovoked. You looked him deeply in the eyes before you spoke. You couldn't help feeling jealous of what that must be like, to be able to deny yourself so easily.
"How is that going?" 
"Pretty well. It's not a problem," he said, but it didn't seem to ring true on his face.
"What about you? You work at the library?"
"I clean there. I just started this month." You shifted uneasily in your chair, a little because you were uncomfortably full but also because he had been talking about himself most of the time and how he was turning the attention on you, and that never felt like a good thing.
"Oh, nice. Your pack lets you work?" 
His question caught you off guard because for one thing, you were surprised that he assumed you had a pack. For someone who was denying who they were to their most intimate partner, he sure did jump to the conclusion that you wouldn't be. But you didn't appreciate the fact that he thought you needed permission to work. For some reason you couldn't really understand, you said, "yeah."
"That's interesting. You don't meet a lot of omegas out there working in public. Seems like most alphas like to keep them locked up at home."
You wanted to tell him he had no idea what he was talking about. As far as you could tell, Eli has less experience with Lykos culture than you did. What did he know about alpha and omega dynamics? But you didn't bother. "Well, my alpha isn't like that."
Eli brushed off his hands as he finished his fries. "That's good. Let me take you home. I'd like to meet them."
You didn't know the address of the pack's house, but you remembered how to get there from the library, and you were able to direct him there without much trouble. 
"It's that blue one up there," you told him when he turned onto the right street.
"This one?" Eli asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing what you did at the same time: a for sale sign with a triumphant red 'SOLD' sign sitting atop it. You swallowed thickly and felt your eyes begin to burn.
See, all these weeks of torturing yourself with indecision, and they didn't want you anyway. You never listen to me.
You could feel Eli's eyes on you, waiting for an explanation, so you cleared your throat. "I don't actually live here. I stayed here for a little bit, with a pack, but I guess they've moved on."
"Your pack left you?" He asked incredulously.
You shook your head, "they aren't actually my pack. They just took care of me for a few days when I was sick. It was a while ago. I just didn't want to tell you where I'm really staying, so I lied."
"What were you gonna do if they were here and I asked to meet them?" Eli smirked and you shrugged.
"Hope they'd play along until you left."
"And then what?"
And then ask if I could stay.
Idiot.
"I don't know," you admitted. You had no idea what you were going to do if you saw them. You didn't know what you would have said if you'd called Jimin and he'd answered earlier.
"You still haven't learned to think ahead, have you, Y/N?" Eli sighs and puts the car back in drive. "So, where are you staying?" 
You sit up straighter in your seat and reach for the door. "It's fine. You can leave me here. I've wasted enough of your time tonight."
"Don't worry about it. Just tell me where to go."
You directed Eli downtown to the shelter, only for him to have the reaction you had feared. You moved quickly to get out of his car but his hand on your arm stopped you.
"Y/N, why are you staying here?" His voice was filled with shock.
"I'm just going through a little rough patch. I'll be back on my feet soon. I have a job. I just need time," you rushed out all your defenses.
"Do you need money?" 
"No! God, I don't want your money."
"Y/N, you can't stay here. I've heard awful things about this place."
"Well, it's better than the street, or some predator."
"You can do better than this."
"I'm trying, okay! You think I like this? I don't. But what's it to you anyway! We meet randomly after five years and you're suddenly an over protective big brother? Do you think my life has been easy?" You've started to shake and you knew you were getting hysterical, but you didn't need his opinion on things he would never understand.
"Y/N, I know things haven't been easy for you. Let me help," he offered softly.
"How can you possibly help me?" You sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, looking every bit his teenage sister.
Eli swallowed before he spoke. "Come stay at my place for a bit."
"At your place?" He nodded. "What about your fiance? Doesn't she hate Lykos?"
"I never said she hated them."
"Us."
"Us. She just had some bad experiences with some alphas when she was younger. She doesn't really like to be around our kind," he explained, as if that made it better.
"Doesn't it make you feel crazy to have to pretend all the time?"
Eli shrugged. "I'm used to it…with our parents. They still don't know about me. It's not that hard, really. You can pretend for a little bit. You can get heat suppressants or whatever."
You know he's right.
You leaned your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes.
I don't want to pretend anymore.
What's so great about being the real you?
I'm gonna call–
If you were going to call him you would have by now and besides, they literally gave you a sign. It was all a lie. Just go with Eli. 
You sighed. "I have some stuff inside. If I leave it, they'll throw it out."
"I'll wait," Eli said and let you get out of the car. 
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Yoongi and Jimin arrived at the new house just as Hoseok was finishing dinner preparations. Taehyung had set the table for seven, and for the first time in weeks it felt complete. No one would hold it against Yoongi for needing space, or for doing what he needed to do in hopes of bringing you into their pack, but that didn't mean they hadn't missed him and Jimin like crazy.
And it wasn't as though they hadn't seen each other at all. Taehyung had driven Hoseok back to the old house on many occasions, to bring his boys food or to take their laundry, no matter how many times Yoongi insisted they could go to the laundromat. He couldn't bear the thought of it. Jungkook stopped by after work anytime he didn't have a night shift. Namjoon and Jin had come over a few evenings when Yoongi was working so that Jimin wouldn't feel lonely.
It was strange for Jimin to spend time alone. He'd spent most of his adolescence surrounded by others and then the last four years in a pack house where someone was always home. In fact, the point in his life when he was the most alone was right before he met Yoongi and the others, and moving in with them had been a huge relief. Jimin hadn't been exactly lonely during those weeks when it was just him and Yoongi, but the quiet was hard to get used to, and the noise that surrounded their return was welcomed and familiar.
No one was going to admit it, because they were too happy to be back together again, but the time apart hadn't been the worst thing in the world. It had given them space to work on bonds that they had not paid as much attention to as maybe they should have. Seokjin and Namjoon had gone on several dates, just the two of them, the pack leader letting his mate take him to every museum in town and casual trips to the library. Jin hadn't even realized how much he was neglecting the second alpha in his pack, nor how much he had truly missed quality time with him. As soon as the realization hit him, he made a heartfelt apology to Namjoon for focusing too much attention on Hoseok and their plans. Of course, Namjoon forgave him easily. He always would.
Namjoon couldn't really put it into words, but his alpha status had never sat quite right with him until he met Seokjin. Sure, he was large and strong and everything an alpha should be on the outside, but he'd never felt the stereotypical aggression or need for control that alphas were known for. This had always felt like a character flaw in himself until he met Jin, who simultaneously had shown him that being an alpha didn't mean he had to be an asshole, and who was also willing to take on the burden of control that Namjoon rejected. When he met Jin, he could just be himself, and for that he would always love him above all others.
Hoseok, too, had used his time wisely in getting more in touch with the feelings of his younger packmates. The fact that he hadn't realized how insecure Taehyung had been feeling and how often Jungkook had been sleeping outside of the nest ate at him constantly. Although he and Tae had been companions at home for years now, Hoseok made a concerted effort to spend more quality time with him, to ask him his opinions on every detail of the new house, not only so he would feel included and welcome or because of his artistic eye but because of the boxy grin Tae gave him every time gave him immeasurable happiness.
Jungkook got the lion's share of Hoseok's attention whenever he got home from work, whether it was 5 pm or 5 am. It always involved lots of touching and scent marking, although if Jungkook came home smelling like lavender and oranges, Hoseok spent considerable more focus on getting those smells onto his own body. If he had a hard time getting Jungkook to smile and laugh once he was in the nest, Hoseok would gently coax him into talking so he could comfort the beta. 
On the whole, everyone in the new house was feeling much better than they had a month or even months ago, except for the fact that two integral parts of their lives were missing. It didn't feel the same as it did before they met Yoongi and Jimin. They had been irreversibly changed. And those two hadn't quite seemed to benefit as much from the separation as the rest.
Jimin squealed and giggled as Jungkook lifted him off the ground and spun him around. "Put me down, Kookie!"
"Never," the other beta mumbled into his shoulder. "I missed you too much."
"I saw you two days ago," Jimin reminded him.
"That's two days too long."
Yoongi couldn't help smiling at the betas as they greeted each other. It warmed his heart to see how little changed between them as Jungkook began to scent mark Jimin until he smelled like something fresh out of the dryer.
"I'm glad you're back," Hoseok said as he cupped Yoongi's smiling cheek in his hand. His heart ached when he watched the man's smile diminish.
"Yeah, I missed you guys," Yoongi admitted, but somehow the omega could tell that longing for his pack wasn't the dominant feeling in his heart at that moment.
"Let's eat dinner, and then I'll show you around the rest of the house," Hoseok encouraged and Yoongi nodded, setting down his bag before going to the table.
"You made kimchi-jjigae?" Jimin asked before taking a seat.
"I wanted to do something special, so I made your favorite to welcome you home," hoseok shrugged.
Jimin walked over and put his arms around the omega in a tight hug. "I love you, hyung."
"I love you, too, Jiminie," he smiled into the man's soft hair. Yoongi watched with a smile of his own. Nothing was as nice as watching Jimin get doted on the way he deserved, and he felt a pang of guilt for having kept the man to himself for so long. Yoongi had heaped tons of love and attention on him during their time alone, but Jimin always deserved more. He was sure he'd feel the same way about you if– Yoongi cut off his own thoughts. He wasn't going to go there anymore. He needed to give up for the sake of his pack, and he knew it. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to. He couldn't let himself believe in anything as fickle as fate to bring you to him.
After they'd all eaten until they were stuffed, Hoseok led Yoongi upstairs by the hand. 
"That's the master bedroom," he pointed out as they passed it by. "This is the room we hope will be the nursery," he said walking by the middle room on the second floor. Yoongi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And this room is for your little pup."
Yoongi swallowed thickly as he walked into the room. The walls had been painted a serene shade of sea foam green and the mattress was fitted with cream colored bedding.
"I didn't think she was a pink kind of girl. Or at least I wasn't sure, so Taehyung suggested this color might be soothing for her. What do you think?"
 "You guys worked so hard on this." Yoongi ran his fingers down the gauzy cream curtains. "It's great, Hobi, but," Yoongi sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. "She's not coming."
Hoseok frowned and settled himself atop Yoongi's lap. The alpha wrapped his arms around his waist naturally to hold him in place as he had so many times. "She hasn't come yet. But that doesn't mean she won't. I know you're feeling hopeless, but you need to have a little faith."
Yoongi looked up at him with weary eyes. "How can you be so positive about it?"
"I might be a tad bit more objective about it than you are," Hoseok smiled as he leaned into him. 
"Every minute feels like an eternity," Yoongi whispered.
"I really think she might be your fated mate," Hoseok giggled.
"Do you actually believe in that stuff?"
The omega shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever met any, but as you know, I don't get out much. I only know stories. Do you have a better explanation for it?"
Yoongi thought quietly for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the right words, but he thought maybe they didn't exist. "All I know is it feels wrong to know that she's out there…in the world…and I'm not there to protect her."
Hoseok gently knocked their heads together. "Sounds like fated mates to me." Yoongi rolled his eyes playfully. "Don't give up yet, Yoon. Jimin and Jungkook found her by chance, but that doesn't mean it wasn't meant to be. When the time comes, you'll be in the right place at the right time, too."
"I hate the feeling that I won't be there before something terrible happens."
Hoseok clicked his tongue at the man. "You're so paranoid. Lighten up. She's coming! And when she does, this room will be her home. Won't that be nice?"
Yoongi smiled, giving into Hobi's relentless optimism. "It will be perfect."
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Eli drove you to a stylish looking apartment building on the other side of town. It was obvious the moment he took you inside the apartment that he hadn't used the time while you were gathering your things to warn his fiance that you were coming. A tall blonde came quickly toward the door wearing an expression you couldn't quite define but leaned towards angry.
"Babe, where were you? I just got home and you weren't here. What's going on?" She asked as her eyes fell on you and even you could feel yourself shrink under her sharp eyes.
Eli leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have called. But I ran into my sister. You remember, I told you about Y/N." 
"Not really," she admitted with a tight smile as your brother stepped aside and she got a good look at you. "I thought she ran away," she whispered.
"Yeah, ran away, not died," he whispered back. You weren't sure if they knew you could hear them or they didn't care but you felt smaller and smaller by the second. "She lives in the city now, and she needs a place to stay," he said loud enough for you to hear, although she clearly wished he wouldn't.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Eli?" She asked with the same tight smile, and it occurred to you that you didn't know her name. Had you forgotten it, or had he simply not mentioned it to you before at the restaurant?
"We'll be right back, Y/N," Eli nodded.
Whatever room they moved to was not far enough away or sound proof enough to keep their conversation from your ears.
"What the hell? You can't bring random girls to our home, Eli!"
"She's not some random girl. She's my sister. She has a difficult situation right now, am I not supposed to help her?"
"Doesn't that seem a little convenient to you? That your long lost sister suddenly finds you when she's fallen on hard times?"
"What are you even insinuating? I'm the one that ran into her at her work."
"I just think it's fishy. And you never talk about her. I think you've mentioned her twice the whole time we've been together, so what's with the big brother act?"
"I just feel bad, okay? Our parents weren't easy on her. I just want to help her out for once."
A long pause settled between them.
"Please. Just a couple weeks, three tops, until I can find her a place to live."
"Did she ask you for money?"
"No. She didn't even ask if she could stay here. But her other situation wasn't safe."
"Jesus. Are you sure she's even your sister? Hasn't it been like ten years? She still looks like a teenager."
"She's just small. It's her, trust me. Everything will be fine."
"Fine. But three weeks and not a day more, Eli."
You turned toward the door to leave. You didn't want to be an inconvenience, much less cause strife in their relationship. He'd already lied to her about you enough, saying that you ran away instead of telling her how and why you were thrown out of your home. Every moment you spent there would only heap more lies up between them. You didn't know what he was thinking of bringing you here, but he was misguided.
"Y/N," he spoke just as you reached for the door knob. "Everything is fine. Come, I'll show you the guest room."
There was always something that made your skin itch about a 'guest room.' Maybe it was just that you never needed it spelled out for you that you held a place of impermanence no matter where you went. You didn't belong. You wouldn't be staying long. These were things you knew without needing them codified in words. 
"There are fresh sheets in this closet," she told you, making a reappearance with a somewhat more believable smile on her face. "I would have made it up for you if I had some warning."
"That's fine. I can make it myself," you assured her quietly. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name."
She sighed quietly. "I'm Kate. There are extra blankets in there as well in case you get cold."
"Thanks, Kate," you murmured before she turned to leave.
"Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning," Eli said before he closed the bedroom door and you were alone.
The following day, Kate seemed to find reasons to be out of the house all day. You did your best to have as little contact with Eli as possible. I'm spite of his recent charity in bringing you here, you had never really been that close. The years between you and the resentment you felt were high barriers. Besides, you'd become too suspicious of kindness in your life to truly trust him. 
During the week, you returned to work, and even though he offered to drive you and pick you up, you insisted on taking the bus across town, if for no other reason than that it extended the time you were out of their home. When you were there, you cooked and cleaned. It was the only way you knew how to do penance for your ever inconvenient existence, the only payment of a perpetually uninvited guest. And when she realized how quiet and clean you were, Kate did thaw toward you, if only slightly. 
The main benefit of staying at their apartment was the opportunity to get quality sleep. It was quiet, and you were spared the frequent interruptions that occured in the shelter, as well as the constant anxiety of being around so many strangers and strong smells. Among the many practices that made the True Life Ministry different from other shelters was that they didn't separate you by secondary gender, only by male and female, so the threat of alphas was ever present. Although behavior was strictly monitored, you never felt entirely safe.
There was one thought that continued to itch in your brain as you laid on the bed and tried to sleep. It was still pretty early in the evening, but you'd had a pretty rotten day. One of the Lykos who frequently passed her days in the library had decided to make you an object of interest today, whiling away the afternoon throwing trash at you every time you came near where she sat in the computer lab while you emptied the bins or cleaned a table. Eventually, one of the librarians asked the alpha to leave, but it had already soured your mood. You cooked and ate dinner silently before turning in early, and even Kate was a little concerned by the way you kept your head hung low and didn't look at either of them even once. 
Now, the only comfort you could think of was sitting in the closet mere feet from your bed.
The blue and white striped blanket is so soft. At least start there.
You know you're not supposed to do that.
Hoseok said it was good for me and it was so nice when he did it.
You aren't Hoseok. You're barely even a fucking omega. You know it never leads to good things for you.
Please. Just a little nest. I need it. Just for a little while. Please.
You sat up in bed and stared at the closet door. There were several very soft blankets in there going unused. Kate did say you could use them.
She said if you got cold. You're not cold. You're fine.
"What's it going to hurt?" You whispered to yourself.
Do you really have to ask? Remember the first time? 
You pulled back the quilt laying on top of you and scooted off the edge of the bed. Creeping to the door, you opened it slowly.
You don't even know how to build a fucking nest. Don't even try.
It's not that hard. Start with the white one.
Eli told you to pretend. What if they find you acting like an animal?
For once you ignored the harsh whispers in your head and followed the smaller voice's instructions. You laid the soft white blanket out as a base, then bunched up two knitted blankets to make a perimeter. You didn't need a very big nest. You were so small. Finally you fluffed the striped throw blanket across the top before climbing into the nest. For once, all your voices quieted as you wiggled your body around, finding the perfect spot for you that made you feel warm and fuzzy and protected. All the world fell away as you nuzzled your face against the fluffy white blanket beneath you. You might have been falling asleep, or maybe just falling within yourself to a quiet, soft place you can only really remember going to when you were in Hoseok's nest last month. You'd never managed to get there with your former pack, where they mocked you for your pathetic attempts at a nest until you gave up altogether. 
Kate, despite her previous coldness toward you, could tell there was something wrong with you. She could tell you were still awake by the soft, albeit strange noises coming from the guest room, and decided to check on you to see if there was anything you needed. When you didn't answer her knocks, she decided to open the door anyway. It was her home after all, right? When she turned on the light, she didn't expect to see you lift your head from a pile of blankets, hair a static mess and pupils blown wide. You whimpered at the bright light.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her tone a mixture of shock and suspicion. "What's going on? Eli?" She called loudly.
You stared at her in confusion until he came to the doorway. "What?"
Kate pointed a finger at you. "What the hell is she doing?"
Eli cursed under her breath as he walked toward you on the bed. He took your face in his hands. "Wake up, Y/N. Snap out of it!" He muttered. 
"Is she…is she one of them?" She asked, pitched raised. You whimpered again.
"Damn it, Y/N," Eli groaned. "I didn't know."
"What do you mean? Are you one of them too?"
"No. No! She's adopted. You know that. My parents thought that's why she ran away, but I didn't know for sure," Eli lied.
"Fuck, Eli. You know how I feel about those...things," Kate cringed.
"Baby, please. I'm sure she's harmless." Eli approached her with open palms, but she only backed out of the room. 
"Get her the fuck out of my house. Right now!" She shouted. 
Eli looked between the two of you anxiously. He stepped closer to you once again and felt his heart clench at the desperately scared look in your wide, vulnerable eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you have to go."
You whined and pressed yourself closer to the blankets, as if they would protect you. Eli sighed. You weren't difficult to pick up and pluck out of your nest. You'd lost whole pounds since your last heat.
"I'm sorry Yn," he muttered as he carried you down the hallway toward the door.
"Make sure she's out of the building," Kate grumbled as he went by her holding the door open.
Eli nodded and carried you into the elevator before he set you on unsteady feet. "You couldn't fucking hold it together could you?"
Your brain was scrambling to come back online, but you didn't have words yet. Fucking stupid omega brain.
"I swear to God if you ruined this for me," he muttered. You wished you could tell him what I fucking fake he was, but your tongue was glued to the top of your mouth. The elevator reached the lobby and Eli walked you outside. "Sorry, Y/N," he told you once more before he turned to go back inside. "Have a nice life."
The night air was chilly with that feeling it might rain at any second. You thanked yourself for wearing Yoongi's hoodie to bed and turned to walk in an unknown direction.
We fucking told you so. You never fucking listen.
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Yoongi wasn't the only one who spent his nights on duty feeling like the next call was going to be the one he dreaded most. Rainy nights always filled Jungkook with a specific kind of dread. It was the kind of night that led to avoidable accidents, which is what he thought had happened when he and his partner stopped their patrol car behind a parked car in the middle of a narrow one way street. The short whoop of the police cruiser when they came to a stop got the attention of the driver of the car, who turned and quickly began shouting at Jungkook as soon as he opened the passenger side door.
"It wasn't my fault, officer! She pushed him in front of my car! There wasn't anything I could do!" The woman screamed hysterically.
"Calm down, ma'am," Jungkook's partner, Xavier, said cautiously before he leaned into his walkie talkie and requested back up. 
Meanwhile Jungkook walked around the passenger side of his vehicle and sniffed the air. The falling rain made it harder to smell the scents around him, but he managed to pick up a few things. The sour fear coming from the Sap woman, smoky sage, and blood. When he reached the front of the car, he could tell those last two scents came from the alpha lying unconscious in the road, blood flowing from his head to mix with the engine oil and rain water on the sleek blacktop. He knelt down when he got closer and spoke into his own radio to call for an ambulance. And then he smelled it. The apple cider vinegar that telegraphed your fear. 
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No matter what Jin and Hoseok said, Yoongi wouldn't attribute the foreboding and acute anxiety he felt tonight to the possibility of fated mates. He felt nervous every night he sat in the ambulance waiting for the next call, hoping it wouldn't be your body that was injured. Tonight was rainy and dark and that always meant car accidents. Yoongi was just anticipating what anyone in his line of work would do on a night like tonight.  
"Do you think it will be her this time?" His coworker asked with casual cruelty as Yoongi drove to the scene of an accident. 
"Shut up," he muttered in reply.
"Don't be so sensitive. I thought alphas like you would be able to take a joke," the Sap teased.
"It's not a fucking joke." Yoongi barely held back a growl.
"Relax. You're not the first EMT to spend the night driving around looking for someone they love in every scene. We all go through it at some point. It's never them.*
But that was where he was wrong.
Yoongi freely admitted that he'd been a paranoid mess the last month, scanning every face at every site for you. But he had never imagined your smell, so he knew he wasn't imagining it now. It filled his senses the moment he opened the door of the ambulance. He could smell the blood, too, but he honed in on your scent only. He could focus on nothing else.
You were sitting on the curb between the bumpers of two parked cars with your head between your knees, but Yoongi didn't need to see your face to know it was you. Only you could be so small and fragile, even under the shock blanket Jungkook had the good sense to put over you. He wanted to scoop you up and get you out of the rain. The fact that Jungkook was standing protectively in front of you lessened his panic by a fraction.
"Is she hurt?" Yoongi asked, kneeling in front of you. "Y/N, are you okay?" 
You didn't respond, simply continued to rock back and forth with your hands clasped over your head. 
"She's not injured. She's just in shock. She hasn't said much," Jungkook told him.
Yoongi reached forward to touch your chin. "Look at me, princess. Let me see if you're okay."
When you lifted your eyes to his, you looked as terrified as you smelled. "Alpha? Is he dead?" You asked painfully.
"Yoongi, over here!" His partner called from the road. The alpha didn't take his eyes off you. How could he leave you like this? "Yoongi!"
"Go on, hyung. Do your job. I'll take care of her. I won't let her out of my sight. I promise."
Yoongi's eyes remained locked on yours for a moment longer. You had asked him only one thing, and if getting you reassurance was all he could do then that's what he would do. "I'll go check on him. Everything will be okay, princess. Wait here." He tried his best to sound reassuring as he stroked your wet hair and you leaned into his touch before he tore himself away to go help the alpha bleeding out on the asphalt. 
His sage scent faded as life drained from him, but the other EMT was applying pressure to his head wound, so he wasn't gone yet. Yoongi went into autopilot to help his partner stabilize the patient, but he was desperate to know what had happened and how you had been involved. Should he even be saving this man? Who was he to you? 
They managed to get the man onto the stretcher and into the ambulance while he still clung to life without Yoongi having much idea at all of what he was doing. He stayed in the back with the patient while his partner drove, otherwise Yoongi would never be able to make himself leave without you.
"Y/N, I'm taking you to the police station," Jungkook told you after the ambulance had left and another police officer had taken the driver of the car away. 
Without any other acknowledgement, you stood, letting the shock blanket fall from your shoulders as you turned your back on Jungkook and placed your hands behind your back.
Jungkook frowned, "you're not under arrest, Y/N. I'm just taking you to the station to give a statement and wait for someone to come get you."
You turned to look at him confusedly. "No one will come for me."
Jungkook smiled sadly. "Yoongi will come. Let's go."
At the station, Jungkook sat you next to his desk in the bullpen and went to go get you a warm drink. He placed a paper cup of hot tea in your hands, which you took without looking at it or him, but just stared blankly ahead.
"Y/N, can you tell me what happened before the accident?" Jungkook asked, fingers poised over his keyboard.
"Eli threw me out."
"What?"
"Was walking. Was raining but…nowhere to go." You took a sip of the too hot tea to ease the dryness of your throat. "Smelled him first. Hate that smell. So I walked faster, but he's bigger, faster. He caught me. Grabbed my arm."
"Did he hurt your arm?" Jungkook asked. You honestly didn't know. You felt numb all over, just like you had since you'd smelled the burning sage earlier. Setting down the small cup, you pulled up the sleeve of Yoongi's hoodie to reveal the bruises that were blossoming along your forearm. "Shit," Jungkook muttered. "We'll take pictures in a minute. What happened next?" 
"We argued."
"About what?"
"Wanted me to come with him. Didn't want to."
Jungkook studied your face cautiously. "Why did he want you to come with him?" 
You shrugged. "Same as always. Wanted to breed me."
"Is that Eli?" He questioned.
You shook your head. "Eli is my brother."
Jungkook nodded. "But you know that man."
You nodded dumbly. "My alpha."
Jungkook felt his stomach turn over and over. Knowing what little he did about your experience with your past alpha, your barely-there behavior made more sense.
"What happened when you argued?"
You swallowed. "I tried to get away, to get him off. He wouldn't let go, so I–I pushed him and he slipped. He fell into the street and then the car was there."
"Did you see the car before you pushed him?" Maybe Jungkook shouldn't have asked. He wasn't formally interrogating you. Something in him just wanted to know.
You shook your head. "Its lights weren't on. Dark and wet. Couldn't see behind him."
Jungkook swallowed thickly and turned his attention to his screen to finish entering the information you had given him.
"Did I kill him?" You asked blankly, making Jungkook pause to look at you.
"He was still alive when they left the scene. Even if anyone is at fault, we would first look at the driver of the car. You aren't in any trouble right now, Y/N." You nodded in understanding. "For now, it's probably best if you stay quiet."
You were sure time passed, although you didn't feel it. Jungkook went and came back, took photos of the bruises on your arm and brought you a fresh drink. The world continued to turn because it had never stopped for any of your crises, big or small, why would it now? It might have been hours or minutes. You couldn't tell. Everything around you was blocked out until you felt a cold breeze sweep through the station carrying a sharp citrus scent.
Alpha.
Without any thought, you found yourself on your feet. As if acting on their own, they shuffled past the rows of desks. There was a wall and gate separating the back part of the station from the public entry, but you pushed past them until you could see Yoongi. His black hair dripped rainwater onto his cheeks, and he pushed the wet strands back. You couldn't hear what he was asking the officer at the desk, but the words went silent when he turned toward you. Without an invitation you found yourself pressed against his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist.
It took him half a second to respond, encircling you in his own strong arms and holding you to him. "It's alright," he whispered.
You nuzzled your forehead against his chest and murmured back, "Alpha."
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I hope the end of this roller coaster made up for the journey. I promise it's going to get better now. Thank you for sticking it out. Please tell me what you've liked in this chapter or any time up until now, and what you're looking forward to or hoping for going forward. Here's a Yoongi, you've earned it.
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bloofinntoona · 1 year
Text
Baby's Breath
Word Count: 1.4k
Themes: Fluff, a little bit of angst? Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (Reader's house can be up to you!)
Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) You're asking Sebastian Sallow who will he take to the Yule Ball.
Author's Note: So... This is my first fanfic(after a while). I played Hogwarts Legacy and I love Sebastian's questline and his story. I'd thought I wrote a little bit of a story after the main HL story. Based on the marriage question???? scene from the first Avatar movie.
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A year has passed since the massive battle with Ranrok, as well as the murder of Solomon Sallow. You, Anne, and Ominis had decided to not turn Sebastian in. The weight of killing his own family member was tormenting enough for the teen, there was absolutely no need of putting him behind bars at Azkaban. Despite the darkness that has been brewing inside Sebastian, his friends still have much love for him. Especially you.
You didn't think much of it at first. Why, Sebastian Sallow was notorious for being the Slytherin bad boy. Dodging detentions here and there, and persistently asking his schoolmates to duel in his not-so-unsanctioned-secret-dueling club. One would think that this boy was a menace. But you know that he was more than that. Sebastian was smart, curious, relentless, outgoing, kind, cunning, and obviously as ambitious as a Slytherin could be. As if the boy couldn't be more perfect, he has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen. You particularly noticed the tiny freckles that adorned his face — you swear you could see constellations if you connected the dots.
Getting back to your relationship before the incidents was not easy. Ominis and Anne took their time to make small talk and joke around with Sebastian. You, on the other hand, shared a kinship. You also wielded the unforgivable curses with him. You often found yourself between Sebastian's arms, finding consolation from the responsibilities of being the so-called Hogwarts Hero who possessed the Ancient Magic. There was also a time when Sebastian broke down in your arms, feeling guilty for being too absored in the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, time is the best healer as you both were able to cope and live somewhat normally in school.
After all that you both have been through, there was never a point where you confessed to each other. Yes, you hugged and comforted each other. You swore you felt him kissed your forehead once. Perhaps it's the archaic rule of courting in the 19th century that your guardians had been drilling into your brain. Or perhaps you're just too scared of being rejected and loosing the closest friend in your life.
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You shifted your feet back and forth, hearing the snow rustling underneath your platform shoes. Merlin's beard, you thought, where in the world is Sebastian? Saying that it's freezing in Hogsmeade is an understatement. The wind blew past your ears as you cursed yourself for putting your hair in an updo today. You jumped as you felt hands tickled your sides, "Hey!" you shouted, turning around. Sebastian grinned, "Sorry, 'had to pick up something earlier." He patted your head, which prompted a red blush spreading across your face. "Shall we?" He offered his hand as you head into The Three Broomsticks. Nothing like a full glass of Butterbeer can make you feel better, especially with Sebastian as your company. This is how you both liked to spend the weekends after a tedious week full of classes and homework. The outing almost ended with You and Sebastian racing on the broom, cruising over the lake until you both reached the rickety docks in Lower Hogsfield, looking over the school.
"That was a good race. Obviously, I was here first." The boy puffed his chest.
You rolled your eyes, "Sure, consider yourself lucky that we're alone 'cause I literally landed first!"
Sebastian and you playfully bantered, pushing each others' broom. He accidentally pushed a bit too hard which sent you flying back. "Oop-!" you yelped as you felt his swift hands caught your back and pulled you close to him. Too close. You felt your chest pressed against Sebastian. Godrick's Heart, did he grow taller? You also swore he was not this strong and muscular before. Puberty years did work wonders for teen boys. Feeling his warm breath against your face, you started to panic and gently pushed him away. You swore you could see a hint of disappointment in his face.
"So," you cleared your throat, "The Yule ball is coming soon. I, uh, heard that you're supposed to look for your own date." You paced around the dock, afraid to look at Sebastian. "Have you thought about who you're going to ask?" You bitterly questioned him. A part of you was a bit disappointed that Sebastian didn't ask you when the ball was announced. You'd expect him to take you, even as friends. The thoughts of Sebastian secretly having a crush without telling you made your guts churn. It's not like other boys haven't asked either, Garreth Weasley was very sweet, offering an enhanced (his words) Wiggenweld potion warped in a bow with an invitation to the ball. You were flattered, but you thought there wasn't a point of going without the boy you actually had a crush on.
"I thought about it." Sebastian calmly said, using his wand to cast Levioso, levitating a rock and flung it to the lake.
"Oh..." you gulped. "May I know who?" You wanted to slap yourself for asking, why would you want to hear answers that will hurt? You still have your back facing Sebastian.
"Guess!" and there's Sebastian Sallow, never making it easy for you.
You used your wand to flung some pebbles into the water. "Well, Imelda Reyes is an amazing flyer. I bet you learned a flying trick or two from her," You smiled bitterly, "Plus, you both are in the same house, so I bet you're close with her?"
You could hear his laugh. "No way, I'm not keen on being ridiculed by Imelda." Sebastian flung more rocks into the water.
"I guess Natty is a good option too. She's brilliant, probably the kindest person I've ever met-"
"What about me?" Sebastian joked, "I'm also kind."
You rolled your eyes. "Also she has a professor as a parent, like you."
"It's not Natty, too... Gryffindor for me," He shook his head, "Don't get me wrong, Natty's a good friend. But she's just a friend for me."
"What about Poppy? She's the cutest girl in school. I think her passion for the beasts is amazing too." You chimed.
Sebastian shook his head again. "Nope, not her."
You raked your brain, thinking about the rest of your schoolmates. You didn't even notice Sebastian's footsteps inching closer to you.
"Ominis?" you blurted out, now facing Sebastian. Hearing your question, he made a face and blurted out an explosive laugh. "I mean I would, but he probably would kill me first," he wiped a tear from his eyes, "no, not my dear friend Ominis Gaunt."
"I give up!" You held up your hands, "I don't know who you have in mind."
Sebastian lets out a sigh. "There is this girl," he stood close to you, "She is beautiful, brave, and possesses an ability like no other. She's always eager to beat me in duels and learn new things. This girl is always there for me, through thick and thin. Even though I was a sodding disappointment of a mate, she still greets me with a warm smile. I don't think I could be here right now without her."
Your breath hitched, feeling warmth crept around your face. Sebastian's face is turning red as well. He took your hands in his, caressing your fingers softly. You can feel your body heating up despite the cold air. "I'm glad you came to Hogwarts. Having you in my life was the best present the universe gave me." He reached inside his pocket and presented you with a corsage decorated with baby's breath and baby blue ribbon. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow. But since we're having this conversation..." He smiled, face red as ever, "Will you go to the ball with me-"
Sebastian didn't get to finish his sentence before you crashed your lips against him. You could feel electricity sparked all over your body, butterflies flying all over your stomach. It seemed like forever, feeling his soft lips molded with yours. His hands rested on your waist, gently pulling you closer. You snaked your hands around his neck, entangling your fingers in his brown locks.
You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. "I'd take that as a yes?" Sebastian whispered. You nod, couldn't get a word out of your mouth. He smiled, peppering small kisses on your cheeks before capturing your lips for another kiss.
He pulled back, took your hand, and wrapped the corsage around your wrist. "You know, I had to do a bunch of tasks to have Professor Garlick help me grow this flower." He chuckles, admiring how the flowers looked on you.
"Sebastian.. I-" You grinned widely, "Thank you. I would love to go to the ball with you." You couldn't help but to wrap your arms around him again. "Why baby's breath?"
"Well, darling, they said it's the symbol of everlasting love."
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chaotikanvas · 6 months
Text
AAAAAAAAA AFTER MONTHS THIS IS FINALLY DONE!!!!! Not gonna ramble too much and get right to it! This was inspired by Bloodstain Fool by @naffeclipse (wonderful original detective au by @/sunnys-aesthetic!), because I am very much not normal about this man! gonna have to be divided in two parts because of the image limit gfklhdsñjkh
Here is part one, plus a bit of an introduction! (edit: added the alt text!)
I hope you enjoy!! <3
(content warnings: uuuh nothing too out there that wouldn't be in the main fic. Mentions of blood and violence, and uuuh unsafe self-modification practices? That's the best way I can think to explain it gkjdhgsfkj, and that's all I think!)
------
The first spark feels familiar.
A sensation he last felt so long ago now.
(Not long enough. Never long enough)
It invades his systems in an instant, and yet it has always felt like an eternity. Joints locking up. Optics glitching out. Senses daring to escape his iron grip.
A spark is all he gets to hear before an array of errors and alarms and pain flood his mind.
(Pain always ovetakes it all in the end)
A spark is all it takes to start a fire.
A spark is what started the fire.
The burning within him. Overheating metal and wires and oil.
The internal inferno that took root in his head, as part of his very existence, consuming him alive.
Just a spark.
Enough to ignite the flames that he has been gradually (painstakingly, arduously, hopefully) smothering for some time now right back to being a raging hell that threatens to engulf him until there is nothing left.
Rage.
Rage is all he knows. What pushes him through the spasms.
Rage has him making sense of the glitches in his vision and set a target.
He is not the same as back then.
The target aims at him again. Presses down on the trigger.
His head twitches out of his control. He takes another step towards the target.
The target's smile falters and presses again. Again. Again.
Everything.
Turns.
Red.
-------
It's not uncommon for Eclipse to simply go off the radar and not reappear for a while. This you have learned from your dear detectives.
This time though? Your gut is yelling that there is something off.
For one, the day before he made his disappearance act, he had gone on one of his hunts. It was late at night, so it would be expected that he would arrive at the station to collect his pay the next day.
He did not.
For two...
The scene he left behind was a bloodbath.
A part of you wants to insist you are not surprised at all, aprehension about the tendencies of the violent animatronic, plus some lingering distrust, bubbling instinctually to the surface.
The rational part of you, that had seen and now accepted his genuine efforts to tear off the venom that he's been living off until recently from his system, tells you that there is a puzzle piece missing and you need to go and find it.
Detective Sun and detective Moon seem to agree with you. By the way detective Sun keeps glancing at the phone with increased frequency. By the way detective Moon arrives much later the night following the incident.
By the third morning, you decide enough is enough.
You know through the detectives that the only human survivor from the encounter was a recently joined member of the gang Eclipse stormed for his hunt. The kid was taken in and interrogated, but in his shaken state the only information they could get from him was that he was actually far from where the fight broke out, having heard a distant buzzing sound just before. Unlucky guy then stumbled on... well, Eclipse's handiwork.
(Or perhaps he was lucky. He was arrested, not taken to the morgue.)
The scene is very much still up to the brim with cops, not that you think you would get much from it if the detectives didn't share much else about the whole situation.
So that leaves you to hunt down the trail of the bounty hunter.
Under the harsh midday sunlight, after hours running around, you curse the sneaky bastard's ability to somehow go unnoticed if he so wishes while being as massive as he is.
Yet you catch wind of one or two people getting a glimpse of the robot, and that's enough to finally direct you to a general area where he might be. You suspect that you don't yet know all the locations of his safehouses, but at this section of the city at least, you are pretty certain there are no other places that could serve him well than those you have pinpointed.
Reaching the entrance of the most secluded one, you reach for your hair, and pull a pin secured by the ribbon that ties it up.
....
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here's the link for part 2!
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kiyosw · 11 months
Text
TAKE YOU AS YOU ARE AND NEVER GIVE YOU BACK.
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WARNING: NSFW, MODERN AU, CEO KAFKA, READER IS KAFKAS PERSONAL GUARD, POSSESIVENESS IF YOU SQUINT, GN READER, READER HAS A MALE GENITALIA.
LYRIC TITLE: DRUGS N HELLA MELODIES // DON TOLIVER, KALI UCHIS.
Rewriting this au since the i accidentally posted the unfinished ver, panicked then deleted it but anyway..,
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CEO KAFKA that declined and refused any applications for the job, not until you applied. One look from you and she knows she wants– needs to hire you.
CEO KAFKA that's been looking for a personal guard that can make out and provide her lustful needs anytime can guard her from any unwanted guests.
Your first reaction after she immediately accepted your job application was of course, shocked. You heard from her employees, even her secretary that every requests people have made here has been declined, so your hopes to get accepted was low.
"Hm.. I suppose you're fit for the role i've been finding. Guess you are the lucky one, huh? Now, be good and obey me at all times. You don't want any punishments now, would you?"
CEO KAFKA that can't get enough of your kisses and touch. You've also grown quite fond of her touches. Every teasing touch she does just makes you want her more.
She would make out with you anytime. At her office, her car, anywhere private from the public eye. The way your tongue desperately chases hers everytime got her knees weak all the time.
She's the type to grind at your clothed cock while making out. She would mischievously how you moaned through her mouth because of the sudden action.
The type to kiss every bite she makes, a mark that would surely remind everyone that you're hers.
Would leave bite marks over the crook of your neck. She'll softly chuckle at how you got flustered because of the visible marks that you have to cover later on.
She's the type to tease you all the time. If she has a business meeting where she talks with another ceo company, she has her dominant hand rubbing over your crotch noticing the bulge, avoiding any glance thrown at you from her, and refraining to make any noise.
"Mm.. you're really that pent up over there, are we? Don't worry, you'll have me once we get back. Just be a good pet for me, alright?"
There was a time where you, her personal toy guard got so pent up to the point that you pinned her in a secluded corner, then fucked her. (she lectured you after the incident she secretly loved it by how rough and how you're panting above her while pounding into her pussy.)
She would ride you shamelessly inside the doors of her office, even if the walls behind you two are glass panels. She would whisper dirty things into your ear while she continously grind her soaking pussy onto your cock, while you desperately pant underneath her, holding her waist tightly.
"Hah.. mmh, I bet you've been waiting for me to ride your cock all day, yeah? So hard for me nng, l‐look at you just helplessly panting.. ah– such a good pet for her master.."
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metallicaislife · 6 months
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The Photographer and the Guitarist
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Requested by: Anon
Genre: 18+ smut, fluff with smut minors dni
Word Count: 1,515
Warnings: oral(f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex
The Photographer and the Guitarist pt 2
When I landed the gig of Metallica’s concert photographer I was over the moon. Not only would I get to see them perform, I got to travel with them too. 
I was pleasantly surprised with how welcoming they were. Having been in the industry long enough, I lowered my expectations so as to not be let down when someone who’s music I admire ends up being a total asshole. 
“How did you even get into concert photography?” Kirk asked, we were at a restaurant with the whole crew. I was surprised when he sat next to me. I’d had a few conversations in passing with him as I got to know all of the members of Metallica better. 
“I grew up going to concerts, music has always been a central part of who I am. As I got older I fell in love with photography and have been immensely lucky to have been able to combine the two.” I responded. 
“That is so cool. I don’t think it’s luck though, I’ve seen your photographs in the magazines. You’re talented and you’ve worked extremely hard to get to where you’re at.” Kirk said and munched on his food. 
“That is very kind of you to say, thank you.” I smiled. Kirk smiled back at me. 
It was really easy talking to Kirk. We got to know each other pretty well. 
That was just the beginning though. I found myself talking to Kirk pretty much all the time. In between soundchecks, on the road, whenever he had a spare moment. 
They had a show tonight, I was wandering backstage before it started. That’s when my eyes landed on Kirk, who had his shirt off. I didn’t mean to ogle, but I couldn’t help it. Distracted, my foot caught a wire and I nearly ate shit, the only thing stopping was an hand that came out of nowhere grabbing my elbow. Kirk looked up, and I looked back to see Cliff. 
“Thank you.” I said, feeling embarrassed. 
“Are you okay?” Kirk asked, I looked back over to him, my cheeks heating up. 
“Yeah, I’m good.” I replied. Cliff released my elbow as Kirk went back to getting dressed. 
“I think you already know, you need to be careful backstage. Even when there is a guitarist to fawn over.” Cliff said quietly. My eyes widened.
“Not a word to anyone.” I hissed. Cliff chuckled as he walked away. 
The rest of the night went without incident. Which I was grateful for.
We were halfway finished with the tour now, I was exhausted but at the same time wished this tour would never end. 
We got to the hotel to rest for the night. I was minding my own business as the tour manager dealt with the room situation. 
“Does it look like they’re plotting something?” A voice whispered to me, making me jump. I turned to see Kirk. “Sorry.” He chuckled. 
“Who looks like they’re what now?” I asked, feeling a little flustered at the closeness. Kirk didn’t say anything, he just pointed in a direction. I looked to see James, Lars and Cliff in a mini circle around the tour manager. They looked up to see Kirk and I staring at them, then turned, continuing their hushed huddle. 
“You’re a part of the band, why don’t you go find out.” I suggested. 
“Nah, they’ll say something soon enough.” Kirk said and rested his chin on my shoulder. 
This wasn’t the first time, but for some reason the butterflies in my tummy were flapping away. 
“Okay, room assignments.” The tour manager announced to the crew. He started listing off two people and giving them a room key. I listened intently, I would probably be with one of the roadies like normal.
“Kirk, and Y/N.” He said. 
My eyes were the size of the moon. I was frozen in place. Kirk went and grabbed our key. 
“Are you okay sharing a room with me?” He asked. 
“Yeah, but like that must be a mistake, you always share with one of the guys, the rest of the crew share amongst each other. Are you okay sharing a room with me?” I couldn’t stop the word vomit. Kirk chuckled. 
“I am completely fine sharing a room. It’ll be fun.” He gave a small wink, “Come on let's go.” He said and grabbed his luggage. I grabbed mine and followed him.
I accepted the fact I would be sharing a room with Kirk. I could live with that, we’d be on separate beds so it would be fine. When we entered the room my eyes widened seeing only one queen sized bed. You’ve gotta be kidding me. My heart was hammering quite hard. 
“You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch.” I offered, setting my stuff by the couch. 
“Why?” Kirk asked, setting his things down as well. 
“Because you’re a rockstar and I’m the photographer.” I answered with a shrug. 
“What kind of logic is that?” Kirk asked with a laugh. 
“You need a good restful sleep. Your body needs a nice comfy bed. I don’t.” I replied. 
“I don’t know, I've seen you in some precarious positions in your line of work.” He said, folding his arms. 
“Anything for the perfect shot.” I grinned. 
“We can share the bed, I promise I won't bite.” He said, “unless you want me to then I definitely can.” He added with a wink. My cheeks flared. 
“Okay, we can share.” I replied and began rummaging through my things. 
Kirk laid on the bed while I found my things to take a shower. There was tension in the room. The same one that had been growing throughout this tour. 
“Do you need to use the restroom? I’m gonna shower.” I asked Kirk. He looked up from his comic. 
“Nah. Might join you though.” He added with a wink. 
“You’re welcome to.” The words fell from my lips before I could process what I had said. Kirk’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 
“Erm or not, up to you.” I practically squealed as I entered the bathroom and shut it. My heart hammered in my chest. Shaking it off I stripped and got into the shower turning it on steaming hot. I stood under the stream reflecting on what I had said. I probably crossed a line. I should see if I can switch rooms with someone so Kirk doesn’t feel uncomfortable. 
My thoughts were interrupted as the bathroom door opened and shut softly. I could hear the rustle of clothes as Kirk stripped. He parted the shower curtain stepping in behind me. 
“If you want me to leave, say so.” Kirk whispered huskily. 
“I want you to say.” I whispered, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Kirk’s hands came to rest on my shoulder and began trailing down my body. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder, then bit down. I moaned as his hands found their way to the front of my body bringing me flush against him. He squeezed a breast in one as he found my clit with the other. He pulled away and turned me around, he kissed me hard. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around him. He leaned me against the wall then pulled away. He trailed sloppy kisses down my body until he knelt before me. 
“Spread your legs, baby.” He said tapping my legs. I spread them. He kissed my pussy before he started eating me like it was his last meal. I gasped and fisted his hair. 
“Oh god. Kirk.” I moaned, “Feels s’good.” He hummed against me before sliding two fingers inside of me. I came with a cry, it felt so damn good. He turned the shower off and helped me out. He took a towel and dried me off a little before drying himself off. He led me to the bed and laid me down. He pinned me to the bed as he kissed me deeply. I let my hands wander until I found his cock giving it a firm squeeze.
“Oh fuck.” Kirk groaned against my lips. He spread my legs and entered me. “What a perfect pussy, squeezing me so tight.” He groaned as he pushed in until bottomed out. He slowly pulled his hips back and began fucking me hard. I screamed as I clung to him. My nails are digging into his back. He bit down on my shoulder, then licked the imprints his teeth had left. He used one of his hands to rub my clit.
“Are you gonna come for me again?” He asked as he continued to rut into me mercilessly. 
“Yes, oh, fuck, Kirk. Yes!” I screamed, coming soon after. 
“Good girl.” He praised me. He pulled out and came on my stomach. He laid next to me as we caught our breaths. 
“Let’s shower, this time we’ll actually wash up.” Kirk said with a goofy smile. 
“Sounds good to me.” I smiled back. 
I’m grateful the other’s conspired to get Kirk and I together.
Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)
-Isa
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saddestsquid · 1 month
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First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧
I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33
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Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.
a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33
Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara 
Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3
Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)
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. . .
Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.
He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.
With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.
When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin. 
He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off. 
He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated. 
“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding  his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…
He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.
Any sane woman.
You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.
For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.
He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.
The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.
He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.
Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.
“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.
You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why  would he ever voluntarily come to you?
You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.
“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence. 
“uhm-“
“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.
You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.
He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs. 
That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”
His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.
“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.
A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.
You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.
“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”
Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.
You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought. 
“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.
You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.
 “On your back.” He ordered. 
You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.
He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head. 
He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.
He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?” 
You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.
He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips. 
His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing. 
“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.
“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.
He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.
He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.
“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth. 
“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you. 
He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.
Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.
His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.
Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.
You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.
He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them. 
You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.
He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back. 
Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.
Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.
He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you. 
Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.
“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.
“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate. 
Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.
With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach. 
“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.
It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take. 
“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”
He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?” 
You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?
You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?
“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation. 
You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.
“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.” 
You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.
“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”
You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”
His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.
It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”
You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt. 
Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life. 
“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.
“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.
“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.” 
“Fuck you.”
“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.
His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.
You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.
“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”
A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.
He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.
“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”
He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.
He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore. 
He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock. 
His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.
“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.
You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie. 
He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.
He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom. 
He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips. 
You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets. 
All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear. 
“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.” 
. . .
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phoenixyfriend · 1 month
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Entry of the Gladiators
Remember my Fake Sith AU? Yeah, so I got around to writing it.
I started writing this around a year ago, planning to finish and post for an event. I never finished. So. Here's what I have so far, and let's hope I can get around to finishing it at some point lmao.
The year is 7939 CRC, and Obi-Wan is one-hundred percent not moonlighting as a Sith Lord with a drawling accent and a linen suit. And Anakin surely isn't pretending to be his unhinged Sith second. And Ahsoka definitely isn't actually a vigilante. And Cody absolutely isn't enjoying the chance to manage an entire set of organized crime rings. And Rex certainly isn't seducing the half-mad head priestess of an evil cult. Totally.
Chapter 1: Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)
Fun fact: I went to upload the first chapter of this fic, which I started writing a year ago, and I forgot I had a title for the chapter, so I just slapped something together to put into the chapter title slot.
Then I went back to my planning document and it's the same damn chapter title.
I am very predictable.
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Anakin wakes up with a pounding headache. This is, against all wishes, a very familiar feeling for him. Unfortunately, it has almost never been a result of something fun, like alcohol. He’s much more likely to wake up drugged and chained by his enemies or recovering from grievous injuries than, say, boozing up.
Hondo incident notwithstanding, of course.
(Besides, Obi-Wan got drunk too. That makes it his fault.)
As he catalogues his remaining fingers and extremities past the pain in his skull, he hears others shuffling nearby. The Force isn’t warning him at all, so they’re probably friendlies.
There’s a quiet groan a few feet away, high-pitched, that is almost definitely Ahsoka.
When he sits up, it’s to more pain and the ugly little realization that Ahsoka must also be in pain.
Obi-Wan’s voice cuts in. “What did you do, Anakin?”
“Nothing!” Anakin protests, his own voice loud enough to set his headache off. He runs through his most recent memories in hopes of uncovering actual wrongdoing. He doesn’t seem to actually have any memories past entering the possibly-Sith-in-origin temple, though. That’s… a bad sign, in part because they are now outdoors and looking at a completely different sky. “You went into the sketchy temple, too. I don’t remember doing anything that could have knocked us all out, especially not knocked us out and transported us to what’s probably a different planet.”
“Sky’s orange,” Ahsoka notes, getting unsteadily to her feet. There’s a moment where it looks like she’s about to fall, but Rex is closer than Anakin, and reacts fast enough to steady her.
Anakin finally gets a full look around. His master, his padawan, his captain, and Commander Cody, who isn’t Anakin’s in any way, except as a friend, but that’s not an exclusive group, because ‘his friend’ could mean a lot of—
He’s getting distracted.
“If we’re lucky…” Obi-Wan says, stretching his back with an awful cracking noise. He eyes the sky with distaste. “If we’re lucky, the cloud cover will dissipate and let us see the constellations when night falls. We can figure out where we are then.”
“Anticipating hostility from locals, sir?” Cody prompts
Obi-Wan shrugs. “Don’t want to hedge our bets on there being locals. We aren’t where we were, and we aren’t in another temple, either. Most planets in the galaxy aren’t actually inhabited by sapient species…”
“But that’s mostly because most of them don’t have breathable air, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asks. Anakin pats her between the montrals, almost like Obi-Wan used to ruffle his hair when he was this small. Well, smaller. Ahsoka at fifteen tolerates this much better than Anakin at the same age.
Ahsoka at fifteen is, however, the same height as Anakin at thirteen, when Obi-Wan was still ruffling his hair.
“You’re right, Ahsoka. Since this planet does have breathable air and some vegetation, the chances of sapient habitation are relatively high,” Obi-Wan agrees. “So, we’ll see how it goes. If we can find civilization that isn’t hostile to us, we might get off by nightfall.”
Anakin has a feeling that’s a bit too optimistic.
(Continue on AO3)
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Robb Stark being protective would include...
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first of all, this man is one of the most loyal men in all of Westeros
like, if you are his blood this man would literally walk to the ends of the earth to protect and defend you
robb also believes that sometimes the phrase 'blood is thicker than water' doesn't necessarily always apply
like if you are loyal to him and have been there for him as a friend or confidant, you best believe this man is going to die trying to protect you, even if it's against a member of his family
but now let's talk about protective robb with someone he was in love with because... wow
if you thought he was protective over his family, friends and people of Winterfell....
.......just wait until this man is in love
it would probably first only manifest in small, subtle ways if you weren't together yet
only little things that his family members would pick up on
like when he would try to inquire about what you've been doing
or whenever you would go to walk home at night Robb would conveniently be right beside you to offer to walk you home
because who knows who or what is wondering around in the dark?
catelyn would raise her eyebrows at and jon would try and hide his amusement
that would send arya and sansa into little giggling fits
luckily you would be blissfully unaware, just grateful for Robb's kindness
overtime it would escalate
you'd keep spotting Greywind prowling around you wherever you went
it was getting to the point that you were wondering if he was following you intentionally
there was one incident when you were walking home at night and robb was away on a hunting expedition and a group of men approached you
and Greywind appeared out of no where to bite the hand off the leader before he could rip your dress
robb literally having to hold himself back from destroying his room when he found out
when you told robb what had happened and had identified the men involved, they were never seen again
you didn't ask questions
whenever there was a feast at Winterfell, Robb's eyes would always find your figure, making sure that you were safe and having fun
and if there was dancing? well you best believe that Robb would always happen to be near you to offer to be your partner, only to be polite (of course)
you always wondering why no one else would ever ask you to dance, until one day you turn around just in time to see Robb starring literal daggers at one of his men about to approach you
at first you're upset, thinking that Robb doesn't see you as good enough for any of his men
"is it my status? my looks? what have I done for you to deem me so unworthy that you will not even let your men touch me?"
"unworthy? my men are the fucking unworthy ones. they're lucky they are even allowed to look at you."
a look of pure confusion would cross your face - you were always a bit slow when it came to romance
Robb would just chuckle and shake his head, "honestly love is it not obvious? I've been in love with you since the moment I fucking met you."
once you're together, oh boy
because while he was protective before, you're his now. Not in a controlling or possessive way but in a 'this is my wife and I would die a thousand times over if it means she lives' kind of way
all of winterfell knowing that you're a protected species
a diamond to be handled with the utmost care
Greywind becoming like your second shadow
which you don't mind but sometimes all you want is some peace and quiet and to be left alone
Robb knowing you can handle yourself but struggling to give you space because he knows how fucked up Westeros can be
because he has seen horrors that he prays you will never have to witness in your lifetime
trusting you completely, but the issue is he trusts no one else (apart from his family)
him having to learn to back off - slightly
always making sure he's standing between you and a doorway just incase soldiers come barging in
a hand always touching you whenever you're within arms reach
whenever he has to go away to fight it's always an internal struggle if he should bring you with him or leave you at home
because he doesn't want to drag you towards a war, but what happens if he leaves you at winterfell and isn't there to protect you?
defending you when catelyn makes some sort of insulting remark or comment
jon becoming just as protective of you because you're his brother's soulmate and robb has always been so good to him
which is really sweet but now you have Greywind and Ghost following after you all the time
which is really unnerving for some people
"do not worry about them, they do not bite.... much"
his enemies trying to get to you to get to Robb
the closest they ever got was an assassin trying to take you out on your morning ride
robb was usually not a cruel man but the rumours of what he had done to that assassin spread like wildfire around westeros
it became legend, myth, shrouded in fear and awe
very soon not even the most infamous and fearless assassins would dare go near you, much to cersei and tywin's frustration
not even littlefinger wanted to touch you
"I am afraid even I am not game enough to conjure up a plan to ruin this one, your grace."
oh and you know tyrion would be dying to meet you - the woman that turned the naive and probably too trusting Stark boy into a protective, ruthless leader. the woman who's sparked the fear in the hearts of the most soulless cunts in westeros? yeah he was a big fan
you being the only one who can calm robb down when he gets upset or enraged when someone tries to hurt you
sometimes you don't because sex with robb in protective mode is next level
always holding hands
forehead kisses
like, so so so many forehead kisses
if you were pregnant he would literally never stop touching your belly
he can be a little overbearing sometimes, but it makes you love him more for it
because you know that this man literally worships you and just wants to keep you safe
he tries his hardest to give you independence because at the end of the day he knows you are the strongest person he has ever met and can hold your own
this man would literally die a thousand deaths to keep you out of harms way because god damn it the villains of westeros have already taken away his father and he will be damned if they take you too
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chlorinatedpopsicle · 5 months
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https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10508-023-02717-0
In an online survey of 1124 heterosexual British men using a modified CDC National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey, 71% of men experienced some form of sexual victimization by a woman at least once during their lifetime.
If men would like male sexual victimization to be taken more seriously, maybe they should start by not responding to news about instances of male sexual victimization with jokes and/or "he's so lucky!!" comments. I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about, but here's a small example:
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I don't know about you, but I never see women making “I got raped by a priest” jokes, “don't drop the soap” jokes, or “fellas, how would you react if you found her? [picture of unconscious or dead woman]” jokes, etc. I only ever see men and boys doing that, strangely enough. Until men and boys stop doing that all the fucking time, I'm gonna find it hard to sympathize with their plight.
The study examines how men may feel discouraged from speaking out about instances of sexual victimization because – as a result of male socialization and male gender expectations – they are afraid of showing any emotional weakness / vulnerability; men may see any display of emotional distress as emasculating. This is true. However, one has to ask: who are the ones who perpetuate these male gender expectations in the first place? Who are the ones pushing these ideas of masculine stoicism; the idea that men mustn't show weakness? In case you've been living under a rock, liberal women have been encouraging men to show more emotional vulnerability for decades now. Liberal women push the “men's mental health matters!!! male SA victims are valid!!!” stuff harder than anyone, even MRAs. Just as men are the ones making the rape jokes, these masculine gender expectations are taught and upheld almost entirely by men. They created the stigma all on their own.
Anyway, let's address the elephant in the room: 71% is a big number! I have to wonder, though, how many of the reported sexual victimization incidents were rape, and how many were things like unwanted sexual comments, groping, and leering. Those things are definitely distressing and even psychologically damaging, but nobody should deny that they are not on the same level as sexual assault – something experienced by a staggeringly high number of women and girls. Anyway, here it is:
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As I expected, forced penetration (what I would consider rape) doesn't make up a whole lot of that percentage. If you want, you can scroll through some of the tags on my blog to see how statistics for female SA victims differ. Well, probably. Tumblr's tagging system is finicky.
I'm sorry, but I'd rather focus my concern on the things that men are doing. Like mass-scale sex trafficking and prostitution. And violent pornography. And spycam terrorism / voyeuristic porn / deepfake porn. And forced child marriage and bride kidnapping. And barring girls from going to school. And female genital mutilation. And forcing women to wear head-coverings and then brutally assaulting and arresting them if they don't comply. And constant femicides. And "honor" killings. And incestuous rape and sexual abuse at horrifying rates. And brutal domestic violence. And every war in the history of humanity (and all the violence that war entails). And committing over 90% of violent crimes. And raping the female patients in their care. And raping babies and corpses and animals like it's nobody's business. And other quirky male activities. Thanks for the ask!
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bloobluebloo · 1 month
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Ganondorf Should Have Never Become the Demon King
Or: The many instances where Ganondorf should have been stopped right in his tracks.
-At the very beginning, when Ganondorf's body was first discovered, it was apparent that the Master Sword could damage Ganondorf. However, since SOMEONE had to inform our dear Demon King that a man with a magic sword named Link was going to stop him, well, he got the jump on Link before Link could even register what the fuck was happening. If Ganondorf was unaware, he would have been focused on Zelda (since he knew Zelda for sure) and Link would have at least had the chance to do something.
-On the sky islands, when Link wakes up, Rauru could have explained to Link what had happened. Rhoam literally did this for Link. Alas, for ✨plot reasons✨ Rauru doesn't even inform us he was the King of Hyrule and we just get to know him as the "Source of the Right Arm" which is hilarious in retrospect and maybe a bit of penance for that whole doxxing incident. I mean, at least he could have been warned not to trust any Zelda appearances?
-When Hyrule was literally attacked by Moldugas. Even if we really, REALLY, want to assume that Rauru did not see Ganondorf but Ganondorf somehow with his super duper eagle vision could oogle the Secret Stone, where else would a Molduga attack possibly come from? Who else could possibly order a hoard of Molduga to attack? There is only ONE nation that has made it a point to ignore all your invitations Rauru. -When Zelda hears the name Ganondorf and can probably sense his magic because ya know, she only spent 100 years shacking up with him she would probably know who he was just from the way he breathes at this point.
-When Rauru clearly states that he knows the man is evil, and decides that he will keep a close eye on him, but then even fails to do that because somehow, his wife and Zelda ended up confronting Ganondorf alone.
-When even the servants of the castle state that there is some weird Zelda lurking in the castle which suggests that Ganondorf's puppet wasn't even a convincing one
-When Zelda and Sonia lure him? Or did he lure them? ANYWAYS THEY BOTH WERE AWARE OF EACH OTHER, and I mean I guess puppet Zelda was shitty enough of a puppet that they were aware of its presence. I mean if the servants noticed it... -OKAY MAYBE THIS IS A STRETCH but, when Zelda was faced with a hacked Guardian that was about to kill Link it unlocked her Hylia powers which is what she subsequently used to keep Calamity Ganon at bay for 100 years? And this was literally the birth, the infancy of the Demon King's power? He just killed your adoptive mom Zelda, you could have JUST HNNNNNNNNN
-When Zelda literally tells Rauru that confronting Ganondorf at this stage may be a bad idea because she knows the present. She knows Link was injured when he confronted Ganondorf. Maybe she could have figured out how to unlock her powers that held the Calamity back? So that he doesn't become a problem in the present? Hello Rauru she’s sort of hinting that Link could not handle Ganondorf’s power but nope! “We rely on your knight and that legendary sword he carries.” Zelda: “Well about that-“
Anyways look, I get it, suspension of belief and whatnot but honestly, this game? Coming off of BotW as its sequel? Ganondorf got stupidly lucky. He got openings as wide as the Grand Canyon and information he should have never had to begin with like please, how did he know that he should invest in a puppet Zelda? Also Rauru is so terrible at listening to any advice because Zelda only pointed out several times that Ganondorf was a problem until she decided to confront him herself with Sonia.
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zaynjmsource · 4 months
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Zayn Malik’s arrival at Paris Fashion Week was not without incident. At about 8:30pm on Friday evening, a slow-moving car ran over his toes. Malik was exiting Kenzo’s autumn/winter 2024 show at the Bibliothèque Nationale, where a small army of Directioners had mobilised, precipitating a minor roadblock. That would have been enough to send anyone – particularly those of an introverted disposition – back into relative isolation. But there he was: on Saturday’s front rows, seemingly content with being perceived in public for the first time in five years. “My foot is fine!! Thanks to my incredibly well-made shoes,” Malik later explained on Instagram, captioning a photo of his tyre-marked Kenzo sneakers. It is the most deft use of the Paid Partnership tag I have ever seen.
Paris Fashion Week (which is perhaps the most accurate barometer of who and what is considered to be culturally relevant), fulfils a secondary purpose: to launch and relaunch the careers of its attendees. It is a place to see and be seen, and perhaps even, make a cameo in a brand’s TikTok video. It tracks, then, that Malik should choose the white heat of the men’s shows to re-emerge from a period of seclusion. Just as his new film – in which he voices a pair of animated bumblebees – debuts at the Sundance Film Festival, and less than a week after he released a single in Urdu with the Pakistani pop trio Aur. “It’s a busy time so you have to take care of yourself,” the musician, who has sometimes chafed against the demands of fame, says, sitting in a luxe suite at the Bulgari Hotel. “So I brought my mum with me. It’s always nice to have things that remind you of home when you’re away.” A moment, please, for product placement: “And, of course, I’m always drinking Mixoloshe,” he adds. “It keeps me young!”
Malik’s comeback reached its apotheosis when he arrived at Valentino’s Le Ciel autumn/winter 2024 show in a suit bearing the words, “We’re So Old, We Have Become Young Again”, which is a phrase that first appeared in Hanya Yanagihara’s 736-page invocation of human suffering A Little Life, but could just as feasibly have been plucked from One Direction’s teenybopper songbook. (Specific enough to inspire yearning, broad enough for anyone to insert themselves into.) “Funnily enough, the first fashion show I ever attended was Valentino nine years ago,” Malik says. “But I think, over the years, my knowledge of fashion has expanded. I have a lot more appreciation for it. Pierpaolo is incredible and Valentino never misses in my opinion.” At some point between our conversation and his arrival at the brand’s Monnaie de Paris step and repeat, Malik’s quiff was razed into a handsome short back and sides – a bit like when a bride gets a haircut midway through her wedding day.
And judging from Malik’s hastily-taken photos from the front row – squint and you might be able to distinguish a series of crystalline worker jackets from Pierpaolo Piccioli’s laser-cut Acanthus leaf coats – it was a collection that stirred due levels of anticipation. “There were so many great looks, but at the top of my wishlist were the long, cut-out coats,” Malik says. “Valentino always has class, it executes that edginess and luxury combination the best. When I was younger, I used to save up all my wages from the pizza shop I worked at so that I could afford to buy a new pair of trainers or a tracksuit. I was only able to get one piece every couple of weeks and it probably would have taken me a lifetime to buy a Valentino outfit! So I feel blessed and lucky that I get to wear the brand.” But there might have been another explanation for Malik’s spontaneous, erm, runway shots. “I was excited to see Lamar Johnson, who I was sitting next to. I didn’t want to bother him, but I’m a fan of his work! He’s such a great actor.”
All of this is to say: Zayn Malik is back. The sensitive and brooding boy band-survivor restored and ready to reclaim his title as a global heartthrob. Among the photos he shared with Vogue – which continue to point towards a certain camera shyness despite his fame – one image in particular paints a timeless portrait. In it, Malik is sitting in the backseat of a chauffeur-driven car as a blur of bystanders scrape their iPhones against the windows. He looks a little apprehensive. And so, I wonder how Malik manages to step outside of all this toe-crushing furore, now 14 years in the game. “The museums in Paris are full of beautiful art and talented artists,” he says, with all the earnestness that first saw him two-step into the hearts of millions of Directioners around the world. “I would highly recommend going to a few and viewing different works of art. It’s very inspiring!”
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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Hi its strawberry anon once again >:3, Eli (my bbg real), Ganji, Edgar and Norton with a S/o who wears cute outfits but hella strong? Like strong enough to probably lift a car if they want. (Also take care of yourself and eat well!)
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Eli, Ganji, Edgar and Norton with a strong s/o who has a cute clothing style too ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 🔔 (female reader)
Strawberry anon hello again! Also thank you for the kindness I appreciate it! I don’t think the last ones turned out great I am not sure because I was out of ideas, so sorry
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Eli
Now we all know Eli, a calm, intelligent and clever man who promised to himself to not date at the moment ESPECIALLY when he is trapped in this nightmare-
Oh nvm…. uh.. remember how is said like 5 seconds ago he kept his promise? Yeahhh.. well… about that!
He has now a pretty girlfriend that has the best style of clothing! Amazing, spectacular, brilliant, ate the whole table-
The two of you being silly and happy , when you suddenly turn the tables which shocked Eli and Brooke till this day.
YOU?? BEATING A HUNTER???? 😨HOW ARE YOU SO STRONG?
No way… Tries to use words instead of touching you but if you have anger issues he will be on panic mode and scared. But he shouldn’t worry, because later on he will get used to it and will be taking lots of notes.
Ganji
You are so lucky that Ganji has fallen for you.. He didn’t search for your look,,, but… the way you are so strong amazes him.. You’re perfect..
Also likes your clothing style, while he is a poor little guy.
Do you know how he fell even harder for you???
When he couldn’t run because his legs gave up in Moonlit River Park and you carried him in bridal style. AND YOU WERE HUGGING HIM CLOSELY which left him looking away trying not to make eye contact with you..
If you’re beating the absolute shit of someone he will quickly try to pull you away cursing under his breath. He barely got you out of this situation😭
He is still so thankful that you’re his girlfriend, so you sometimes lift him in bridal style to tease him which ALWAYS works to make him blush
Edgar
An irritating painter falling in love with a peasant????? Please love is the last thing he actually cares about! Love is nonsense.
But when he saw you how surprisingly strong you are he was confused. Confused about all of this situation, first you dress so much differently from the others and you are even stronger than some hunters?? How is this even possible? If you’re extroverted enough to annoy him he will fall in love with you somehow.
And there it is. A boyfriend that is 0% strong and 1000% girlfriend that is stronger but cheerful. I can just imagine you giving him a kiss on the cheek, which makes him blushy and Joseph disturbs you two but you just somehow twist the sword with your hand. And this leaves the photographer and painter flabbergasted.
Norton
So confused . How do you even do it???
You know that Norton loves jewels, but you have never been in the mines because of the incident he experienced. Don’t remind him of it please..
,,*sigh* I wished I could’ve had money or diamonds.. something shiny and good…-‘’
You literally crashed your hand into a big rock, and searched until you felt something smooth. You smiled and got your hand out of the big rock, and to his surprise you were holding a bunch of small kimberlite which one costs like 50$ (and you know back when things weren’t expensive as now, and 50$ WAS A LOT I think). Please his reaction was priceless. HOW ON EARTH DID YOU KNOW THERE WAS KIMBERLITE IN THIS BIG ROCK AND HOW DID YOU EVEN SMASH YOUR HAND INSIDE OF THAT ROCK??? HAVENT YOU BROKE IT??
if you two are in the mines, Norton is having bad flashbacks while you crash your hands in the rocks to find anything: iron, gold, coal. Anything that would make him happy.
,,Hey Nort look I found a.. diamond!!!-‘’
,,That’s great honey’’ Literally doesn’t pay attention so you better quickly get him out of here..
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