#it's gone even in the fictional universe it was in. and the memories of it are eroded in thousands of years after

[probablyhuntersmom]

The scenes towards the end of the finale were like an intersection of multiple characters experiencing the loss of father figures, in different shades:

Luz's relationship to her late father took on a different form, after King's own father passed on and his glyph magic was gone for good. Manny gifting her the Azura books before his death, and Papa Titan offering her glyph magic before he too passed on, helped Luz find her place in the world and defeat Belos.

Apparently this scene is what made Sarah Nicole-Robles bawl in the recording studio, right after she recorded the lines.

When these changes happen - when we experience the loss of a person, when our ties with them are wrangled into a new form, against our will - it can be devastatingly painful. Change and transformation make for fancy, dramatic scenes in fiction, and they always incur loss in some form, painful or not. It also made me so emotional when seeing how much 18-year-old Luz resembles Manny, and how her enrolment in the university is linked to both her biological father and Papa Titan.

King's experience of seeing the majesty of his father, however brief, left him in awe and exhilaration. He can rest in the beautiful knowledge that Papa Titan was watching over him the whole time too. The message that his dad left him, relayed by Luz, is something he'll hold dear forever.

Hunter will never be truly harmed by Belos ever again. But he can't discard the memories of Belos granting him attachment: even if the attachment ended up not being real in a sense. However, like what can be applied in real-life therapy, he can get guidance on how to rescript those memories.

Belos's lies about having good intentions don't change how it felt real to Hunter all those years ago. Hunter was a young child when receiving this 'love', and in a twisted way...the mission given to him by Belos kept him alive up till he could escape the Coven, because the mission gave his life meaning despite the circumstances being awfully terrible. A child cannot survive without attachment, and needs attachment even if the experience of attachment has been horrendous and scarring. And holy Titan don't get me started on how at age 16 (before the timeskip), he had yet to learn more grisly details about his predecessors - whom he might view as older brothers and fathers whom he never met - and the generational trauma in his Golden Guard family tree:

which would have definitely been explored before he could experience that amazing hard-won serenity and peace at age 20.

Even Philip's arc is inextricably tied to his manner of coping with how he murdered Caleb, who was the closest thing he had to a father, given how these two brothers were orphans. In the end, Philip meets his end while Luz gazes upon him the same way Caleb's ghost did. Philip won't be haunted by Caleb's ghost again, and he joins the person who was essentially his father figure in death. Till the very end, he was projecting onto another person because he didn't want to recognize the same traits in himself. He was the one responsible for his father figure's death.

But grief doesn't mean the relationships in question have ended altogether. It's kind of like what this post about the finale (link) says, and it even extends to the relationship between us fans and the show itself.

The cliché "5 Stages of Grief" is the most commonly mentioned grief model, but I follow the development and advocacy of a newer perspective on grief that challenges it. In fact, the 5 Stages was originally just intended for terminally ill patients, but it was taken out of proportion. I began a serious investigation into the newer models after I went through something that parallels Hunter losing Flapjack...eerily, it happened to me two weeks before TTT's release date. No wonder I feel so close to Hunter as a blorbo, I guess.

Unlike what the 5 Stages of Grief says, grief and linear time don't mix well. Without "stages" to follow, there isn't an expectation of some deadline or permanent end of a tunnel in the newer models. Such pressure wouldn't be honoring the sacredness of connections between us. Instead, less famous grief perspectives like the dual-process model and continuing bonds model, are a better fit to honor relationships that mattered, since they aren't given an expiry date.

I wonder how Luz would be feeling on the day she graduates from the Wild Magic University, and how King feels each time he unlocks his own new glyphs since he is the new Titan to supply the Isles with magic. And I wonder how Hunter felt when his coven sigil was replaced with the Flapjack tattoo, and how he feels when he sees the Gravesfield town seal and Wittebane statues.

There are ways in which they can get creative to integrate their grief (notice I didn't say "get rid of", "remove", "erase" or even "manage"...the pain is what is to be managed, not the grief itself) the best they can. In canon, we have examples such as the Hexsquad agreeing to get their Flapjack tattoos together. Luz letting go of the light glyph sheet here:

is also a fantastic representation of rituals like sending off a message in a bottle at a beach, tying a message to a balloon and letting it fly away (this happened in Reaching Out, didn't it?), or burning a message in a campfire to let it float up towards the sky in the form of embers.

It is a common recommendation to have exercises like letter-writing where the griever writes to the lost loved one. What many may not know is you can also do the reverse: you writing as your lost loved one, to yourself. Because the griever takes a piece of the lost loved one with them, that the griever has shaped within themselves. This is especially good if you need to extend forgiveness to yourself. An example from a book called Bearing the Unbearable:

The author felt responsible for the stillbirth of her child, but had a "happy accident" where she intuitively asked for forgiveness and then received it, by invoking the love that her child would have shown to her in a world where said child had remained alive.

I think Hunter in particular could benefit from something like this, writing to himself as the uncle whom he saw as genuine and nurturing, and gaining ownership of that part of him even though Belos was a liar and is now gone for good. It can help him move forward especially since he won't be spared from nightmares in which his loss is re-enacted. With this kind of rescripting, historical accuracy doesn't actually need to matter. After all, our own minds lie to us at times and mess with historical accuracy anyway, like Luz's thoughts telling her she was as bad as Belos, and how true that felt.

A physical loved one is lost to death, and it can feel just as painful - only in a different way - if people become estranged or separated without a literal death having occurred. But the connection to them isn't lost, it is only adapted. The bond continues. For better or worse.

I believe the pain in grieving is connected to each moment when we remember all over again that the one we loved isn't coming back.

It's like the needle of a gramophone getting stuck in the loop of an unpleasant-sounding record scratch noise. It's a bit like what C.S. Lewis says in his book A Grief Observed: "In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out." I can't find the other part but he later said something like, therefore if a friendship is lost, the part of you that only that friend could bring out, is also lost. Something in you is locked away forever, though new things can also be unlocked after the loss.

It wasn't shown onscreen but I wouldn't be surprised if it's regular for Luz to come across a meme and be freshly reminded of her dad's absence, because she can't show him that meme. King would be wishing that a new funny cat video he discovers is something his dad could also laugh at along with him. Hunter would be hoping that Flapjack, the previous Golden Guards and Caleb are watching as he brings back palismen.

Bereavement, and any grief that is significant enough to alter our personhood forever, are the forms of love that can never really grasp how time flows in a linear way. They can't be reasoned with, only experienced.

"...the howling at the center of grief is raw and real. It is love in its most wild form" - Megan Devine.

#I'm applying some of this to how I'm grieving the end of the show. our relationship with it has just changed..not ended #toh analysis #the owl house #luz noceda #king clawthorne #toh hunter #philip wittebane #caleb wittebane #manny noceda #papa titan #grief in The Owl House #loz writes a meta #death mention

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Alan & Jeff Forever!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Jan 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 10 of 12 - I am a little concerned that this is getting too big for its britches, rather like Phaya’s recently recovered snake… shall we say? Adding in yet another character at this juncture isn’t the best idea. Still, I love how this show makes me cackle laugh with grandmas + Yai and then TENSION.

It’s a wobbly kind of balance but a balancing act is happening nonetheless. It makes the pacing of this show good. It may be all over the place but I'm never bored.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 11 of 14 - No trash talk this week, I was charmed & delighted. Who knew I would actually enjoy this show? Certainly not me. (not much of a...) Trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - I am pretty much skipping most of the 3 chef friends, and all of the side dish action (sorry Neo). And with OffGun apart for most of this ep, it didn’t hold together since they are the glue. Sigh.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 12fin - Okay let’s talk about it.

Mhok should have gone off with someone else. Day treated him like shit and never once apologized. To assume an apology isn’t necessary is to pity Day in the exact way he didn’t want. (On a complete aside, one of my favorite Thai restaurants back in my mispent youth was in Hilo, HI… ah memories) meanwhile the "passing escalators trope" activated in the land of malls (it’s been a while my old friend).

Anygay, I hold that Mohk was not a fault and Day was the one who needed to apologize.

Although they did have one of BL's BEST ever face touch moments. 

In conclusion: 

The story of a blind man and his caregiver falling in love. Mark is great. JimmySea are spectacular. The support cast is GMMTV-good. And for the first 3/4 this BL was something rather special. But it was let down by its ending (for which I entirely blame the author). In order to like this show you must buy into the premise that Mhok was in the wrong and caused their breakup. If you don’t believe that, you won’t like this BL. Also "fixing a disability = true happiness" is gross messaging. For me, endings counts for a lot and this one was ultimately “happy” but felt like a failure. 7/10 and I was sorely tempted to go as low as a 6/10, so it should count itself lucky 

I dithered my darling BLabies... I dithered A LOT over this one. But JimmySea alone held this one up.

GMMTV we gotta talk. You're fielding some of the world's best pairs right now. It's time to get them equally good scripts.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - This installment had too much of the side couple in it. Although it was nice to see First/Dream (Twins) again. He's still a cutie, even playing a straight. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 23 of 24 - I have to say I’m very glad we are on the last installment of the series. Narcissistic hairdresser starts seeing a spirit in a mirror. Turns out to be a friend from his youth who he thought was dead. This one is kinda sweet, and I find the premise interesting. Is the kid actually dead and a spirit? Or is there something else going on? I am intrigued. And I like the actor playing the kid in the mirror. I suspect this will be sad tho.

Time the series (Thai Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - I don’t exactly know what is going on. And frankly I don’t particularly care, either. So far nothing seems to be happening, and I really intensely dislike one half of the main couple. DNF welcome 2024 here we go 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 1-2 of 8 - based on the Manhwa Love Supremacy Zone by Hwacha (they should have kept the original title). I adore the premise. IRL person has been sent into fictional universe to save a side character from doom. Fantastic. Every fanfic author's dream. Also, I love that our POV was the bad boy in high school so there’s also a redemption arc going on. I adore this kind of isekai (if you wanna call it that). Puppy/cat pairing too! 

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - Oh my goodness they too cute. Basically dating. Although only one of them realizes it, and he is such a drama queen. It’s GREAT. Also they are both so damn gay. I love the supportive bestie trying to cope with the girl who has a crush on his gay bff. 

Happy Ending (Korea Tues YT) 1 of 3 - Strongberry is back and it’s very them and very atmospheric and cute. I’m enjoying it. 

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - Japan giveth and Japan taketh away again. Look, I just like the lost love teacher/teacher couple better. I'm assuming they'll have to do a time jump in the final episode to make this one work at all. 

I am SO GLAD we have KBLs back on our screens.

It's done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam so I assume it's on YouTube. I never even noticed. Anyone?

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - Is TRUST Entertainment bringing us the first ever Burmese BL? I don't know if it's really the first, but @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch through.

Beside You (Thai ????) - a 3 ep short that's supposed to have aired but I can't find it.

It's Airing But...

[NO INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Ends next week. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

In Case You Missed it

All my year-end round ups:

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023

2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10

All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen

BL 2023's Best:

Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere

Cute Bits of Domesticity

Boys Feeding Boys

BOOP!

Best Cuddles

Heads in Laps

Touching Head Touches

Thailand Put His Head on Your Shoulder

Put Your Head on My Shoulder (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES FROM THAILAND

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/2 City of Stars AKA Fueangnakorn (Fri YouTube?) 10 eps - An actor falls in love with a programmer and the narrative intends to “explore the ramifications of being public figure in the social network era who must endure critics, bullying, and defamation.” Looks like another Lovely Writer/Call It What You Want sort of thing. But helmed by Star Hunter? Chaos will ensue.

2/2 Anti Reset AKA Anti-Reset (Taiwan Fri Gaga?) 10 eps - from Vidol (who aren't doing us very proud right now) - Human and robot find love.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Say what you like about this show (and I have) they do some very gay cuddling. (Him the series)

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

This show, damnit, so close to being genius. (Last Twilight)

I don't that's a hardshi,p grandma ... although it may be a hard ship... get it.

I'll stop now.

(The Sign)

(Last week)

#pit babe the series #pit babe #AlanJeff #the sign #the sign the series #the sign is the best #last twilight failed us #cooking crush #offgun #last twilight series review #last twilight #jimmysea #him the series #thai bl #this week in bl #bl updates #Love For Love's Sake #korean bl #although i love you and you #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka #japanese bl #Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun #happy ending the series #Love Supremacy Zone #isekai #isekai BL #isekai yaoi

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Jeff's Valentine

Summary: Natasha and R go on a Valentine's Day date without Jeff, leaving a very upset landshark in Yelena's care.

Word Count: 3086 Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: Nat and Yelena threatening each other, some romcom bashing, otherwise it's all just fluff :) A/N: It's been a few months since the last entry to the JFU, but everyone's favourite landshark is back :) I hope you all enjoy and, despite the title, it's quite light on the actual romance part. Also this isn't proofread.

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe

Jeff mumbled tiredly, finally settled into bed for the night. You’d kept him active all day, taking him to the beach, buying him treats, and giving him all of your time overall which, to Jeff, made your next betrayal even worse.

The landshark hadn’t settled into his own bed that night – despite the plethora of options he had – he’d made himself comfortable on yours, which meant waiting for you and Natasha to settle down before he could go to sleep. He groaned again, but neither of you took the hint, both of you continuing your conversation as if he hadn’t interrupted.

“It’s going to be the perfect day,” Jeff heard you promise. Natasha reached out to cup her hand around the side of your face; since neither of you were even looking at him, Jeff huffed once more and stomped around the bed, clearing the space for him to flop suddenly into a curled-up ball. 

“Just the two of us,” you continued. Jeff faced away from you, if you weren’t sleeping soon then there was no point in him staying up.

“Not even Jeff.” The amphibious creature took some issue at that. Gone was his prior sleepy state and in its place – a whole new readiness to fight. What did you mean ‘not even Jeff’? Where would he be? What day could be perfect without him?

You glanced briefly at the agitated shark, but your attention was soon drawn away when Natasha propped herself up on one elbow. Jeff relaxed too, confident in the belief that his other parent would step in to defend him… until she didn’t. What she did do was turn your head back to face her, then leaned in to kiss you.

“I’ll trust your plans, love,” she smirked, “afterall, it can’t be worse than that Valentine’s a couple of years back.”

“In Paris?” you hummed, “romantic destination at least.”

“For the couples who choose to go there, maybe, not the ones on last minute missions. You almost bled to death.”

“Oh, yeah. Getting stabbed isn’t in the plans tomorrow though, don’t you worry.”

“Mmmm, good. I can’t wait to see what is. Goodnight Y/N, and goodnight Jeff.”

“Mrrrr,” Jeff responded, scathingly, though Natasha didn’t know it. He felt somewhat content in his action of wishing you both a bad night, but still fumed from the end of the bed at the fact you had planned activities without him. He vowed never to forget this betrayal and, as he fell asleep, planned to take vengeance in the morning until you reconsidered your plans.

By morning, all was forgotten. Jeff had never had the best memory, but his anger was about to be reignited.

Natasha prised herself slowly and carefully out of bed, taking caution not to wake you as she did so. Unfortunately, that meant walking further away from the bed than usual on her route to the door, and closer to Jeff's corner bed – which he'd retired to midway through the night.

“Mrrrr,” he grumbled, his sleep now disturbed.

“Sorry Jeff.”

Jeff didn’t forgive Natasha with the apology, but he was curious as to what she was up to, so stood up and stretched before padding after her. After slipping through the door, he continued to follow the assassin as she muttered some sort of recipe; he perked up significantly when he realised her destination was the kitchen.

The land shark bounded to her side, purring and butting against Natasha’s legs to attract her attention.

“I’m making pancakes for Y/N, Jeff, do you want to help?”

“Mrrrr!”

Natasha stared at him blankly. “I’ll assume that was a yes,” Jeff heard her mutter, then he was hoisted into the air and deposited on the kitchen counter. “You have to wash your hands first though.”

The redhead shuffled away while Jeff hopped into the sink, where he sat and nudged the tap on in order to wash his hands and his feet and, well, practically his entire body in the end. 

Eventually, he flipped the water back off and fell back to sit with all four legs stretched out in front of him, so that he could show his clean hands to Natasha.

“Very good, Jeff,” she approved, “you can help now that you're clean.”

“Mrrrr,” Jeff beamed.

“Why don't you just sit there while I finish off the batter, then I'll make you one and you can taste test. Sound good?”

“Mrrrrr!” 

“Yeah, thought you'd like that.”

Natasha hurried around for a few seconds more, whisking the bowl until she felt content. Jeff, meanwhile, grew impatient, so grabbed a saucepan from the side and dragged it along the counter, onto the stove, which he then switched on.

Natasha frowned at the action, while Jeff flopped back into his hind legs and grinned incidentally. “I'm not sure how you know how to do that,” she muttered, “but thanks Jeff.”

“Mrrrr!”

As the redhead got to work, Jeff didn't take his eyes off the batter: from the final bit of mixing, to the pouring, to the misshapen thing in the pan, Jeff knew his mission.

“Mrrrr!” he alerted a few moments later. Natasha had gone off to prepare a tray for you, leaving Jeff worried that she would forget about his pancake and feed it to him burnt. She had previous.

At Jeff's alert though, Natasha came running back over to hastily flip the pancake. She patted Jeff's head in gratitude for his warning, knowing she would have burnt it otherwise. She had previous. Then returned to her set up.

Finally, Jeff's pancake was done, and Natasha served it to him with a wide smile. “Look, it's your face, Jeff!”

Jeff looked down, then back at her, then at his reflection in the kitchen sink. He did not resemble this beige blob, but no matter, he could still engulf it, so he did.

“How is it?”

In truth, Jeff didn't have it in his mouth long enough to notice a taste, but he grinned and gave a thumbs up anyway, setting Natasha into action. She began to pour vaguely heart shaped servings into the pan, which Jeff monitored, as Natasha never seemed to know when to turn them. Together, they produced a good stack of heart shaped pancakes which she carried up to serve you in bed.

Jeff followed her upstairs and hurried around to your side of the bed to stare and beg for food, which you sneakily provided, until it was time for you and Natasha to get up and ready for the day. 

You dressed yourself, picked out clothes for Natasha, and even grabbed some of Jeff's things, giving him hope that he would be accompanying the two of you. The feeling was exacerbated when you called him to the car and strapped him into his car seat. His excitement grew and grew… until he realised that he recognised the roads you drove down; he'd been to this place before.

“My favourite nephew!” 

Jeff wagged his tail politely, but turned to you pleadingly. As excited as he was to see Yelena, all he really wanted was to stay with his parents, which he knew wouldn’t be happening if they’d brought him here; he would be left all day, at the very least. While Natasha thanked Yelena again for taking him, Jeff pulled at the ends of your trousers, drawing your attention just so he could whine and plead to you with wide, watery eyes.

“Jeff, you usually love it here,” you crouched down to his level and whispered. His eyes seemed to be getting larger and sadder by the second, so you ducked your head, knowing any more of this and you’d fold to his wishes. “I’ll be back tonight, I promise.”

“Mrrrr.”

“Nat and I are going to be doing couple-y stuff, and you don’t want to be around that, do you?”

“I wouldn’t”

“We know, Yelena.”

“The land shark is better with me,”

“That’s why he’s here, Yelena.”

You ignored the sibling bickering and turned back to Jeff. “Yelena is right, buddy, you’ll have a great day here with her and Fanny, then we’ll be back to pick you up before you know it!”

He whined again but, with great difficulty, you turned away to follow Natasha out of the door, ready to begin the date you’d spent weeks planning. You could practically feel Jeff’s teary eyes boring into your back, so you didn’t dare turn around, knowing you could never leave that sight behind.

Yelena could put up with a lot – The Red Room had put her through a lot – but this day with Jeff had somehow managed to find and push at her limit. You'd been gone for an hour now, but Jeff still sat at the front door, right where you left him, crying and scratching and howling in displeasure. 

She hadn't seen Jeff this distraught since the day they first met, and that was not an event anyone wanted a repeat of. 

“Can you talk to him?” she asked Fanny when the crying got too much to bear. The dog told her head but, after a pointed finger from Yelena, made her way towards the mopey land shark. She wasted no time and judged Jeff harshly for his attention, before springing forward with her front half lowered playfully to the ground.

“Mrrrr,” Jeff pouted, though already noticeably less melancholy. Fanny barked and jumped towards him. Jeff growled, then sprang up, running in circles around the living room to goad the Akita into chasing him. They played like that for several minutes, while Yelena breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into the sofa, glad the whines had finally given way to playful yaps; they were much more manageable.

The two animals did eventually calm down though and, when Fanny went to lay at her owner's side, Jeff followed, climbing into the Widow’s lap rather than snoozing on a hard wooden floor.

“Hello Jeff”

“Mrrrr.”

“You are happy now?”

“Mrrrr,” Jeff shrugged, He glanced to the door, then back at Yelena, before his features drooped.

“They are celebrating Valentine’s Day,” Yelena told the shark patiently, watching his face for any indication of how he felt about it.

“Means they do lot of romantic things together. Couples do. But they must leave you behind because they are a couple, and you are not.”

Jeff frowned and shuffled on Yelena’s lap until his hands were freed. “Alone,” he signed, then pointed to himself.

“Yes, in a dating sense, but so am I. It is not so bad to be alone.”

“Couple. Join them?”

“Double dates are an option, but-”

Jeff cut her off, signing urgently, “You. Me. Couple.”

“Us?”

Jeff nodded.

“I am flattered, Jeffrey Landshark, but we are too far apart in ages, and different species; I don't date anyone even of my own species.”

Jeff looked down dejectedly, his face downcast as he signed “alone” again.

“One day you can find a nice land shark partner, if that's what you want, but Valentine's is not all about couples. There is a lot you can do, little land shark! Treat it as a normal day, spend time with friends, enjoy the alone time… here, let me show you.”

Yelena nodded her head as she stood up, in a clear sign that Jeff should follow her; he took the hint and leapt gently off of the sofa. Fanny looked up at the movement and decided to trail her owner too. So Yelena paced through the house, her two animals marching in step behind her, until she pulled a box out from a hallway cabinet, half-full with crayons and stickers and pink slips of paper. Fanny sniffed it curiously.

“Natasha and I used to do this every year,” the younger assassin explained. Meanwhile, she'd picked the box up again and led the troupe back to the living room table.

“We would watch funny movies and make each other cards. Look, see, this is from your mother-”

A pink card was shoved into Jeff's hands; adorned with a blood-red heart on the front, Jeff opened it to see Natasha's neat, calligraphic handwriting, not that he could read any of it.

“Mrrrr,” he said.

“Yes,” Yelena replied, not understanding him at all, “she was angry with me that year. I threw her out a window a couple days before.”

“Mrrrr,” Jeff tried again, this time signing “can't read” alongside it.

“Oh, yes, she has bad handwriting, hard to read. I will read it for you.” Yelena beckoned for the paper, which Jeff passed back to her.

“Dear Yelena,” she read aloud, “sometimes I am glad I didn't kill you. Lots of love, Natasha.”

“She is very sincere.”

“Mrrrr.”

“Let's make cards. You can give it to your parents when they pick you up, yes?”

Jeff nodded, and the two of them set to work. The TV was switched on and played a collection of rom-coms that the network has chosen to air for Valentine's day, allowing Yelena to laugh at the tropes and throw popcorn at the TV whenever it became too unrealistic for her to believe. In turn, that kept Jeff and Fanny entertained, as they scrambled to get to the fallen popcorn first.

“Mrrr?” Jeff asked at one point, after Yelena had cut and folded the card for him. He had one hand on the front of the card and a red pen balanced between his teeth, which he hovered just above the page.

“You want to outline your hand?” 

Jeff nodded, causing the pen to lower and mark a red line on his hand.

“Okay, let me do it then,” Yelena stepped in, taking the pen off of Jeff. “You want a full outline? If you move your fingers together it is like a heart.”

Jeff tried it, moving his first finger towards his thumb, then his other two towards each other on the other side. Yelena had been correct; thanks to his short, sharp fingers and a rounded hand, it did form a somewhat heart-like shape when traced. 

“There we go. A perfect heart!”

Jeff looked at the paper. The heart was about as perfect as Natasha's pancakes had been that morning, but he considered that maybe the sisters didn't know what a heart was supposed to look like, and he was content to let them live in ignorance. Jeff gave a thumbs up.

Yelena handed the card back and turned to the TV once more.

“Why are they kissing! They just met!” she yelled suddenly, jolting both Jeff and Fanny from their relaxed positions.

“I am sorry,” she grumbled calmly, “they are just dumb.”

Fanny huffed and settled back into her bed, while Jeff went back to colouring in his Valentine's card. And so, they settled into their routine for the rest of the day.

There was, of course, a break for lunch, and then again to walk Fanny (and Jeff, but in his mind he walked the other two). The rest of the time was spent doing arts and crafts in the living room, moving on from the Valentine's card, to friendship bracelets, to Yelena teaching Jeff simple origami.

By the time you and Natasha came to pick up Jeff, late in the evening, the table overflowed with stacks of folded paper, beads, and glitter covered cards; and your landshark blended right in with how much glitter he had spilt on himself.

Natasha gasped and practically ran into the house. You panicked, thinking she would storm in and reprimand Yelena for the mess, but, to your surprise, she headed straight for the table and fell to her knees beside it. “You brought out the crafting stuff!” she exclaimed, in a tone totally opposite to what you had expected, then beckoned you over right before she began to rifle through the mess.

You closed the door slowly, sensing that your original plan to quickly pick Jeff up and head home would be no more.

“What's going on?”

Natasha ignored you, and instead looked up to her sister, “I remember writing this one, you'd pushed me out of a window just before it.”

Your head swung rapidly to Yelena, who shrugged at your expression, “We were only one floor up.”

After knowing the pair of them for years, you knew when it was best to let things slide, and this was one of those times. Further questioning would only yield more questions than answers.

“Y/N, come sit down,” Natasha smiled and pulled you down to her side, “this is what Yelena and I used to do every Valentine's day.”

“Before she met you,” Yelena added.

“Do you mind that I'm joining?” you asked the younger Widow directly, even as Natasha piled heaps of craft equipment in your lap. “I don't want to intrude on a sibling tradition.”

Yelena glared at you for a few seconds, long enough to make you sweat under her gaze, before she eventually broke into a smile and shook her head. “No, no. It is a family tradition, and you are family now. I do not mind. Come, the land shark can show you how it's done.”

With Yelena’s blessing, you shuffled around at the table and got to work making a love letter of your own. The message you wanted to convey came to you quickly, and the page soon filled with your expressions of love. Natasha finished hers at almost the same time, and you all agreed to exchange them at once.

“Three, two, one-”

Yelena pointed Jeff towards you and Natasha, but he shook his head and turned back to her, depositing his card in her lap. Meanwhile you and Yelena had both pushed your cards across the table to Jeff, and Natasha’s to Yelena.

“Thank you, Jeffrey Landshark,” Yelena said earnestly, “I am touched.”

“Hey, I gave you a card too!” Natasha complained, only to be shushed by her sister.

“You are not as special as Jeff.”

Natasha looked to you for backup, but you only shrugged. Though you pulled her into a side hug immediately after, of course, because she might have pushed you through a window if you hadn't.

“This is a bit awkward, huh?” you whispered, smiling against her hair as she rested her head on your shoulder, the both of you watching Jeff and Yelena exchange friendship bracelets and admire their Valentine's day cards. “Put our hearts out there and didn't even get a single card back.”

“You put your heart out there? Oh…”

“Natasha… why does this just say ‘die’?”

Jeff taglist: @unexpected-character​ @wolferine

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

#jeff the landshark #jeff the land shark #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #yelena belova & natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #yelena belova imagine #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #the JFU

[xhdream]

back into my head (18+)

from ─ ⋆ dinna’s holiday special *ੈ✩

pairings: gunil x virgin fem!reader

genre: smut wc: 4k

summary: your brother decides to invite his best friend who studies abroad over for christmas - the one that ruined your 19th birthday, and has gotten only hotter since you last saw each other

contains: sub!reader, virgin!reader, brother’s best friend trope, enemies to lovers trope, banter, oral sex (f), pet names, praise kink, gunil acts like a sneaky perv a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

saying this now cause i don’t want to disappoint anyone - they don’t fuck. sooo maybe i could do part 2 in the future if you’re interested?

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

You pull your brother into the bathroom, making sure no one has seen or followed you. The pure terror that glows in your eyes pierce right through his own, as you lean back on the door not letting him escape.

“What is he doing here?”

“What, you can invite your friend over for Christmas, but I can’t?” He raises a brow suspiciously.

“My friend is not a rude, inconsiderate asshole that goes through people’s stuff behind their back!”

“Are you still not over that shit? It was a joke.”

He attempts to push you away, but you do your best to stay still.

“He embarrassed me in front of all my friends! On my birthday!”

“Jesus Christ, I’m surprised you still have any friends left.”

“You should’ve at least told me he was coming!” You shout in a whisper, while your brother’s already pushing the door handle, only rolling his eyes at you.

“Hey,” Gunil follows your body movements, as you take your seat.

He sat next to you. Of course.

“Long time no see.”

“You’re back,” you’re just able to note through a crooked smile.

“Yeah, you don’t seem very excited about it.”

“I’m… surprised.”

“And even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.“

Although giving constant compliments to girls is a pretty known fact for your brother’s best friend, this still catches you off guard, and you feel your insides twist.

“Don’t even mention that day.”

“Why not?” His surprise almost feels sincere, forcing you turn to him.

As you remember the contours of his face, that still feel so familiar even after four years, you realise your memory is wrong. The last time you saw each other was actually when you went with your brother to drop him off at the airport for his second semester at university. You were successfully blocking out this day from your mind, as it was spent in you soaking your pillows with tears till you fell asleep. After that you decided to stop tagging along.

“You turned my nineteenth birthday into a total nightmare, remember?” You try to play it off, not expecting him to catch a thing.

“That wasn’t the last time I saw you though.” His lips slid up for a slight moment, but fall down quickly.

“Maybe it’s not, but it’s the one that’s engraved in my brain forever.”

“We made a pretty fun show, don’t you think?” He grins, turning half of his body at you.

“What are you talking about over there?” Your brother asks from across the table.

You look at Gunil challengelly giving him the opportunity to answer.

“I was just asking her about…” His lips slid upwards, as you shoot him a more warning look. ”How’s uni going.”

“Booooring.” Your brother whistles, piling his plate with food.

“I would be more than happy to drop out of the conversation, so please continue with whatever topic you like.”

“Me and your brother talk every day, but you on the other hand…” Gunil stops mid sentence, looking in another direction for a change. “You haven’t called or texted me once since I left the country.”

With eyes down in your still empty plate, because your appetite was long gone, you pray for your brother to speak up, and change the subject. But just at that exact moment you watch how one of your cousins decides to pull him by the sleeve, stealing his attention.

It starts to weigh heavy on you - the realisation that you’ll always have feelings for him. Your first crush, that started as a silly innocent possibility, but grew to be something out of control, that he’d never take seriously.

You’ll forever be his friend’s silly sister that’s so fun to mess around in hours of boredom.

“Aren’t you gonna ask how long I’m staying?” Gunil plays with his glass cup in one hand, deciding that maybe it’s time to change the direction of your poor conversation. “Your room hasn’t changed at all. Still very… pink.”

“You were in my room?!”

“Can you blame me?” He leans back in his chair, locking eyes with you. “It’s been years since I last saw you. I want to know what’s new.”

“Yes, I can blame you actually for a lot of things.”

“Such as?” His brow raises provocatively. “Wait, I know… for being too fucking handsome.”

“Oh, please just…” You turn around, trying to ignore him.

“Your neighbour told me I had a glow up.”

You scoff, pretending you just heard the biggest lie in your life.

“Got a boyfriend?”

“None of your business.”

“So still a virgin?”

Your fork falls down from your grip loudly. When did you even pick it up to hold it so intensely?

“For god’s sake… You haven’t changed at all, huh?” You glare at him and seeing his amusement makes you even more pissed. You continue your tirade, trying to speak as quietly as you can. “Still the same pervert who read my diary for fun in front of everyone. You disgust me.”

You take a sip of water, as your throat becomes dry in seconds. A sudden touch on top of your thigh makes you almost spit it out.

“Is this the only thing I make you feel?” Gunil leans close to your ear, so you’re the only one that hears him. “Are you not forgetting something?”

His fingers squeeze playfully when he catches you looking down in your lap. You immediately return your attention to the table, secretly looking around in case someone is watching. What is he thinking?

“I’m sure I’m not.” You try your best to sound cool and collected, but fail at it miserably.

You expect to hear another joke about one of the many passages you dedicated to him in your old diary, but he only removes his palm in silence.

It makes you regret for not doing it earlier yourself, but you couldn’t find a way to move a bone.

“I left you a present,” he speaks out after clearing his throat. “That’s why I was up in your room.”

“Why didn’t you just leave it under the tree like normal people do?”

“Cause it’s just for your eyes only.”

What kind of a sick joke does he have for you now?

You feel your chest and face flaming hot, as you excuse yourself.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

Gunil watches you leaving the dinner table barely hiding his satisfied smirk.

He finds your small figure sitting on the big bed, and softly lit by the yellow string lights hanging from your window.

When you look at his direction your face looks scandalized.

“What is this?” You hold back to urge to cuss at him, as you close the box. You can’t look at this in his presence.

“Do you like it?”

“I can’t believe you’re still mocking me.”

“I’m not mocking you,” his brows shift in a confused gaze. “This is what you wanted and I got it for you. We both know you’re too scared to do it yourself.”

“Well, you’re wrong, I don’t want it and I never did. Thank you for thinking of me though.”

Still at the same spot in the middle of the bed, you reach at him with one hand, waiting to get rid of the pink box as quickly as possible.

“I doubt those small fingers do the job.” He says bluntly, not missing a single flinch of your stunned face.

Your eyes widen, as your cheeks begin to burn. His audacity to come here and entertain himself by making fun of you leaves you speechless.

“I know it’s probably a shock to you, but I go out with boys,” you speak the words slowly one after another, so they can slide in clearly in his brain. ”I’m actually currently seeing one, so this… you can return it or gift it to some of your hook ups. I’m sure you have many to choose from.” You force a smile.

Gunil chuckles, processing everything you just told him, before speaking in a more suggestive tone.

“Who is he?”

“Just… a guy I share a few classes with,” you reply, avoiding his gaze.

“Is he any good?”

You shake your head, feeling almost exhausted from his attitude. Just when you think it can’t get any worse he spits out another question.

“How many times has he made you cum so far?” You blink at him rapidly in disbelief, while he steps closer, sitting at the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re making this up.

“H-he is… good.” you stutter, thinking of a response. “That’s all I’m going to say, cause anything else is none of your business.”

He grins, feeling your flustered gaze roaming all over his back. Your voice began to tremble, leading him to think that you’re either seeing someone you’ve done nothing with yet, or you’re not seeing anyone at all.

“There’s no need to lie to me, sweetheart.” Gunil turns to fixate his eyes on your flushed cheeks. Your skin is warmly colored from the fairy lights, but he could still see that you’re blushing. “Do you want me to show you how to use it?” He rests on his side, crossing fingers in anticipation, but you just roll your eyes, dismissing him.

Before you have time to react his hands remove the lid of the box, letting everything fall down on the mattress. The pink toy appears where you did not want to see it the most - between you and Gunil.

Blood rises to your face once again, as you watch his fingers wrap around the handle, pressing a button. You almost jump when you hear its sound. The fear of someone passing by your room and hearing it causes you to instantly steal the vibrator from him, but his grip is stronger.

“Relax,” he cackles at your startled expression. “It’s not that loud, see? People think about those things.” His eyes quickly glance at your hand on top of his. The fact it took you some time to pull it away even after he silenced the toy felt like a little reward to him.

“You didn’t give me an answer.” Gunil runs his heavy palm over your knee.

Your lips part, as you want to say something, but you’ve run out of words the moment he came to lay beside you. You really don’t want to just stay silent and so obviously embarrassed - it’s humiliating how every little thing he does has such a big and vivid effect on you. But the only thing you could do right now is go number under his touch.

“I-I…” You stutter under your breath. The higher his hand goes, the harder it becomes to pretend. You want this. You want him. You’ve always had. “Yes… you can show me.”

“Show you what?”

He chuckles when you look away frightened at the thought of having to say the full sentence.

You watch him moving the box and the wrapping paper aside not expecting him to come on top of you straight away. The weight of his body falls on top of yours, as his mouth instantly finds your neck. The texture of his tongue burns your skin, leaving warm and wet traces up to your ear, causing goosebumps. Before you realise, your fingers are lost in his soft hair, pulling him closer.

“You took so long to answer, sweetheart, I forgot what my question was.” His lips follow along the line of your jaw, moving to your parted mouth. “You have to refresh my memory before I go any further.”

His hot breath sticks all over you, as he speaks through his signature cocky smile.

“I want you t-to teach me… how to use it.”

“Why are you so shy?” He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. “I’ve read your little fantasies about me there’s nothing to hide anymore.”

You’ve always wondered what Gunil’s mouth feels like. You’ve written in your diary all of the possibble ways he kisses so many times you’ve lost count. However, this doesn’t come close to any of them. He is gentle and rough; erotic and soft at the same time. The way he guides your lips radiates confidence and lust you’ve never felt before from any of the few guys you’ve been on dates with.

He takes your chin with his thumb and index finger, so he can make you open your lips wider for his tongue. The astonishing feeling of your tongues meeting makes your spine arch, begging to feel more of his body as possible.

He doesn’t break the kiss while the fingers of his right hand swiftly unbutton your cardigan.

You put a cardigan tonight, because you hated wearing bras at home, but if you had even the slightest idea that something like this was going to happen, you would’ve worn one - a pretty one that would match your panties. You gasp for air when he breaks the kiss for the first time so he can take a look of what was underneath it.

“Is this what you wear at home every day?” He asks and you swoon over how deep and intense his voice has become.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you breath out, as he keeps staring at your thin revealing top. One strip is hanging loose from your shoulder, while your nipples are poking lightly through the fabric.

He takes one boob in his hand and goes over its nipple with his thumb. The slow circles around it turn into a squeeze when he attaches his mouth against yours for a long wet kiss which he takes down your neckline.

Your lips part in awe from being suddenly struck with lost for words from how aroused you feel already.

Unconsciosly you humm in bliss when he runs his tongue over your top. Sucking harshly on your breast, he forces your sensitive nipple to perk up, which he takes as a sign to put even more pressure through more licks and bites, soaking the fabric with his spit. You grip on the cushion, as he holds your boob and quickly circles the tip of his tongue around the clothed bud.

The cute squirming of your body forces his cock to twitch eagerly every second.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” he whispers, letting his spit drop down over your nipple before taking it between his lips again. A long muffled groan escapes his throat when you grab a handful of his hair, as he still holds it between his teeth. “Feel like you can cum just from having your nipples sucked.” He pinches the bud and you whimper, feeling the rush of it coloring your face.

Gunil pulls back to take off your pants, tossing them to the floor. He smirks approvingly when you sit up to remove your cardigan.

“Good girl.”

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding down your shoulder, before pulling away to find the vibrator.

When you hear the toy turning on, your body tenses again from the overwhelming excitement and nerves clouding up your mind. The buzzing sound fills the thick air, as the head moves towards your intimate place, making your heartbeat race. You won’t be surprised if he could hear that too.

You instantly respond to the unfamiliar thrill the moment it sneaks through your panties. The sensation lands on your clit, shooting waves of pleasure, as Gunil holds the vibrator steady in one place. The sudden contact makes you gasp vocally while clenching your tummy.

“Mmmm,” Gunil wets his lips at the pretty view of your bare plush thighs spread apart for him. The sight of your expressions changing rapidly from how good you feel turns him on even more. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” He leaves it over your clit for a while, waiting for the feeling to take you over. His fingertips are travelling on your left inner thigh, scratching and wishing they could feel more of you already.

You shut your eyes only humming in agreement. As the vibrations sink into your pussy your legs begin to slightly move around from excitement, your toes rubbing against the fabric of Gunil’s pants. You can feel yourself get wetter from how your underwear is now sticking to your folds, and your hole is starting to clench. It feels warm, energising, and like nothing you’ve ever felt from playing alone with your fingers.

Gunil removes the vibrator without saying a word and that makes you yap from surprise, but also from desperation. You swallow down the urge to plead to put it back exactly where it was, but that doesn’t seem to matter much when he grins at your hazy eyes and pouting mouth.

“What, do you start to like your new toy?”

You rub your thighs together cause you couldn’t stand the high temperature down there anymore.

Gunil catches that in time, immediately seperating them again.

“P-please…” you mutter, going over your panties with your hand, hoping it’s going to make him put the toy back sooner.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He pushes your thighs towards your chest, as you’re still in a sitting position just holding yourself on your palms. “Show me your tits, princess.”

You pull the straps of your top down your shoulders, leaving it around your stomach to expose your breasts for him.

He cusses quietly under his breath, placing back the vibrator on your clit, but this time pressing harder.

“O-oh… G-Gunil…” You moan towards the ceiling, as the rush floods back through your body, but ten times harder.

“You’ll learn to love it even more, sweetheart.” He says, while slowly moving the vibrations in circles, stealing even more delicate sounds from you. Watching you chew your lips almost violently in attempts to keep your pretty voice down grows his erection, making it difficult to keep it in his pants.

He brings the vibrator down to your wet hole, then brings it up again, leaving it to sit on the sensitive place. Meanwhile, the fingers of his other hand grips your leg, so his lips can travel freely on it. He starts placing wet hungry kisses all over your skin, unable to resist you.

You throw your head back with your face all scrunched up from the ecstatic delight. Every time Gunil shifts the vibrating head a scream creeps up in your throat from how amazing it feels, but you fight it back. As you tug on the sheets for support, you begin rolling your hips against the toy, reaching for your peak. That instantly pulls his attention away from your leg.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, Y/N…” He groans, running his hand over your lower abdomen, imagining the way his dick would touch your cervix. “Wanna give you my cock so fuckin’ bad, you’ll take it so well, sweetheart..”

“G-Gunil, I…” You fall on your back, as you feel like breaking down any second now.

“Princess… need you to cum for me…” Gunil pants, holding your thighs apart.

As if his words were a charm, the second they sank into your mind, your figure begins to shake, forcing him to get a hold of you in a way the vibrations won’t escape your clit.

“Yeah, baby, let it out. Good girl.”

Your hands fly to cover your mouth, but as the orgasm gradually fades out, you hide your burning face too. You can hear Gunil’s chuckles, teasing you for not being able to comprehend what just happened.

He provokes you to peek through your fingers by kissing around your bellybutton just so he can reach lower, biting on the waistband of your underwear. The sudden slap of the fabric against your skin after he drops it from between his teeth makes you flinch.

“Fuck, what do we have here?” He grins amused after he settles between your thighs.

You could feel his warm breaths coming at your leaking pussy. Subtle, yet so effective in waking up a new wave of arousal in your body, that maybe just never went away. Instead it just keeps growing stronger.

“You’ve made a big mess, princess.”

Feeling his index finger slide down between your lips, pressing into your tiny hole has you break a whimper.

“Gunil, I…” You stutter around your words, still regaining control of your breathing. “I’ve never done it before.” It would’ve took you a lot longer to admit it if you had to look at him, so you stay with your eyes squeezed shut.

“I know, sweetheart.” You sense a smile that doesn’t have the usual perky ring to it. It actually feels comforting. “It’s okay. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

He sucks the soaked patch of your panties into his mouth, savouring the sweet taste. The muscled tip of his tongue sends a strong rush through your core after it moves between your folds.

How is it possible to feel so intense even through the fabric?

“I’m afraid we have to return downstairs soon. People will start looking for us.”

You look at his hair, that was so neat and put together when he got here, and now is a mess; his eyelids dropping heavy like he’s intoxicated; how are you supposed to leave the room pretending like nothing has changed?

Your chest that just calmed down minutes ago begins to rise quicker again, as his palm rubs you gently while he speaks.

“I want to give you my cock nice and slow when it’s only the two of us, sweetheart.”

You shiver, but your body burns from his voice, as if you’re having a fever. Chilly air brushes at your entrance when he pulls your panties aside, exposing the view he’s been craving.

“I want to listen to your pretty moans…” his sentence stops from the way he concentrates on sliding a finger through your tight dripping hole. He sighs from relieving pleasure when it goes in, and continues his thought. “How they rise higher and higher as I fuck your silly brains out.”

Your head rises up to see his mouth going into your cunt, making its first laps at your slickness. The sudden contact makes your bones tremble, and your eyes roll back at your skull. When he suddenly moves his head left to right, teasing your clit with his tongue, you let out a deep groan, that you realised was dangerously loud way too late.

You hiss at the stimulating combination he creates between fingering and swiftly playing with your clit. His tongue caresses the nerves with strong forceful moves that at one point make you shift your hips up for even more friction.

“Ahh, s’good…”

His lips suck loudly on your clit one last time while looking into your eyes. His attractiveness in that small moment almost blurs your vision.

“Princess, you have no idea how sweet you taste…” He spreads your pussy nicely with both hands, giving it a nice look as if he wants to memorise every little detail about it. “Just like candy,” he adds, feeling his erection throbbing painfully at your tiny cunt pulsing from cute sensitivity; from needing to be filled up; needing to be stretched out.

You don’t even realise until you hear it, but the vibrator is back into his hand.

“Here, try it yourself now.”

When you take it from him without saying a word, Gunil quickly moves you in another position with ease. He guides your hand that’s holding the buzzing toy between your legs, as you’re standing on your knees. He presses your head into the mattress, then lifts your butt up in the air.

“Good girl, you look so pretty spread out like this for me.” He strokes your spine, your hair, your ass cheeks, while his hips push his huge boner into your behind. “F-fuck…” he pants, as you start to whimper in sync with his thrusts. “This is how I’ll fuck you, baby… This is how I’ll ruin that sweet pussy of yours.”

He teases your clenched hole, as you already struggle enough to hold the vibrations on your clit from being close to orgasm again. You repress your noises into the sheets when two of his fingers manage to insert your tight entrance. Slowly, but steadily they begin to stretch it out, massaging your gummy walls.

“Let me strech you out a little, sweetheart. You cannot fit even half of me in there.”

Your thighs begin to jiggle from not only the sensations that go through your core, but now from his curled up fingertips too, while the rest of your body moves back and forth from his lower body humping you.

The feeling of his rough clothed bulge pressing into your flesh makes something inside your chest flutter. He moves exactly how he would if he was gliding his dick in and out of you. Airy moans escape his mouth, echoing into your mind, as the sound of them is one of the most hypnotising sounds you’ve ever heard. You wish you could see this intimate, but filthy image of him using you as if you’re a pillow, but you can’t.

“Damn, princess.. so fuckin’ tight around me, fuck…” He cusses behind your shoulder, forcing you to melt on the mattress with his groans. “You barely let me move, baby.”

His sounds alone can make you come undone, and with the strong buzzing coating your pussy, it doesn’t take you long to whine his name over and over again.

His wrist begins to slam into your ass, as you squeeze his fingers tightly, soaking them with so much moisture.

“Cum on my fingers like the good girl you are for me, princess, come on…”

You suffocate from digging your face into the sheets, meanwhile your legs gradually collapse with your toes curled from pleasure. After you roll over on your back, feeling completely washed out, Gunil cannot resist. He spreads the sticky wetness all over your skin, watching it glisten everywhere under the yellow lights coming from the window. He swipes one finger once between your messy lips, chuckling at your legs instantly closing.

You both stay in silence for a while. If the noise of every single person of your family over talking the others counts as silence.

“So…” You whisper, glancing at him. “How long are you staying?”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

#dinna’s holiday special #xdinary heroes smut #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #xdinary heroes hard hours #gunil smut #xdh smut #gunil hard thoughts #xh hard hours #xdinary heroes x reader #gunil x reader

[ihatelink]

Trust Fall (Revali X Reader) - Part 1

Word Count: 2,780

Pairing: Revali X Reader (Female)

Fandom/Universe: Legend of Zelda (Breath of The Wild)

Themes/Content: Romance (Slow Burn), Fantasy, Action.

Warnings: None

Synopsis: You visit your friend in Rito Village in order to escape the sense of dread looming over your home of Castle Town as the prophesied doomsday slowly grows closer. It is here on your visit that you meet a Rito warrior who turns your world upside-down.

Authors Note: Finally got round to writing this! Since he's not mentioned in TOTK at all I just had to start a fanfic for him. I miss him so much. I'm uploading this from my laptop so if the formate is weird or there needs to be more paragraphs just let me know! I don't consider myself a pro on Zelda lore so I do apologise for any mistakes. Also, this fan fiction will have two endings! (One canon to BOTW and one canon to Hyrule Warriors) Other than that, I hope you enjoy! - I don't know what to call myself... should I go by my username? What about something stupid like Loafus?... I don't know... I'll work on it 🪶🤎

Rito Village was your second home. You felt so much comfort and associated the place with such a feeling of warmth, it was surprising you hadn't made it your permanent residence. When it came to Rito Village you only had positive memories.

This was mostly due to your best friend, Frita, being a rito. The two of you had met at a very young age and had been best friends ever since, visiting each other every couple of weeks or whenever you had spare time. She would teach you about the ways of the rito and you in turn would teach her about hylians. Frita truly was like a sister to you, and you loved her more than words could say.

"Daydreaming again?", her voice broke you from your thoughts, her bright blue eyes sparkling with joy. You blinked a few times, finally registering her words, and you couldn't help but giggle to yourself. "Yes, I guess I was". "What we're you daydreaming about?", she asked, turning her attention back to the salmon sizzling in the village's communal cooking pot, the aroma swirling through the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. Later in the night was the perfect time for cooking here as most ritos had gone to sleep; Their poor night vision meant that many would retire early in the evening. "Just thinking about flying", you confess sheepishly and Frita rolled her eyes playfully, responding with, "You're always thinking about flying". "I can't help it whenever I'm here. You all look so majestic and free", you gushed. "I would love to be able to experience what it's like to fly for myself instead of having to be on your back". "Perhaps if you pray to Hylia enough she'll allow you to become one of us", she chuckled and you couldn't help but laugh along with her. Frita eventually added the tebantha wheat to the pot and the goat butter as the two of you talked about everything under the stars. "Are you still planning on moving to Hateno Village?", she asked as she began to plate up your dinners. "Yes, unfortunately. It means I'll  be further away from you", you mumbled and Frita's face fell in disappointment. "It's the best option as, if this impending doom really is to show itself one day, the city centre is most likely one of the first places to be attacked. If I could, I'd love to live here with you". "Well, why don't you?". You shook your head. "You know I'd stick out like a sore thumb here. I wouldn't be able to pull my weight or help the village in any way. I'd be more of a burden than anything". "Perhaps not! If I could find a way for you to easily integrate into life here, would you move here?". The more Frita spoke, the more you felt a warmth spread through your entire being. "You'd have me, you'd be well protected- our warriors are exceptional, there's plenty of food and resources in the area… just don't make any final decisions to move just yet. Allow me a chance". You chuckled, taken aback by your friends willingness to help you and keep you by her side. "Okay, I'll give you a chance".

You cut yourself short when you noticed movement out of your peripheral vision. The gentle padding of talloned footsteps grew closer and bright emerald green eyes encased in bright red watched from the darkness. Finally a rito came into view. "Rather late to be cooking, don't you think?". His tone was sharp and precise, you couldn't tell if he was making small talk or if he was irritated with the fact that the two of you were occupying the cook pot. Did he usually use it at this time? "Oh! Revali! Sorry, did you want to use the cooking pot", Frita asked, a light quality to her voice as she politely addressed him, yet an awkward silence seemed to settle over the three of you as his eyes travelled from her to settle on you, staring down his beak right into your very soul. "Who is this hylian?", he asked bluntly. "This is my best friend. She's visiting for a short while", she informed him of your name and that you were from Castle Town. "Would you care to join us?", you then offered, cutting through the awkward pause in conversation. "We have plenty to go around". Frita cut you a glance, surprised by your sudden offer, but did not protest, adding "Yes, do join us! I'm assuming you've just finished practice? You must be famished". Revali opened his beak but quickly shut it, perhaps to reject the offer but thought better of it. He took a moment to smooth out the cream scarf around his neck. "Well, if you insist, I suppose I could join you", he hummed, making his way to sit across from you.

As he took his seat, he placed a beautifully crafted bow to his side, coated in vibrant colours and intricate designs, a scrap of teal fabric tied to one end. He held himself with pride, sitting tall, spine straight, shoulders squared. With the fact that he was taller than you, it was a little intimidating. "Have you visited our village before?", he asked, and it took you a second to realise his question was directed towards you. "Oh yes, plenty of times. I've been visiting since I was a child. That's how I met Frita", you explained, gesturing to your friend as dinner was being dished onto plates chiselled from stone. "Hmm, surely I would have met you by now if that were the case", he muttered as he was handed his food, "it's interesting how our paths have never crossed". You shrugged unsure of what else to say, other than, "Perhaps we weren't meant to meet yet. Us meeting now may be fate?", you laughed lightly, amused by the thought. Revali scoffed in response, "I believe we are in control of our own fate. For example; I didn't become one of the greatest rito warriors through fate and sheer dumb luck alone". "And so modest about it too", you joked which caused Frita to just about choke on her food. She tried to excuse herself as calmly as possible, covering her beak with her wing while still coughing her lungs up. Judging by her reaction, you considered how you may have overstepped a boundary. Not everyone knew when you were joking upon first meeting you. You often sounded more serious than you intended. "I'm only teasing", you clarified, playing with your food on the end of your fork absentmindedly. "I'm sure you're  more than deserving of the title", you tried for your most sincere smile you could conjure, yet Revali didn't seem convince.

Finally, Frita had caught her breath, tears in the corners of her eyes. "No no, Revali really is the greatest of our warriors. Our people gave him that title", she croaked, her throat sounding raw from coughing. "He's the pride of the rito", she insisted, dropping her voice to a more serious tone. Your face contorted in amused disbelief before you began to wrack your brain for any information that would help you deduct the truth. "So he is the rito that's won the annual archery competition for the past five years? He's that same-…", you began to trail off, recalling the conversation you had with your father.

You came from a wealthy family, both your parents working for the King and late Queen of Hyrule . Your mother was the royal gerudo correspondent and your father was the royal rito correspondent- this being the reason you spent so much time in Rito Village growing up, as well as Gerudo Town. You remembered the past few years you couldn't make the annual archery competition held in the village, since you were either accompanying your mother on business trips or doing your own work, but you father had come home stating how the rito 'Revali' had won again. He would then follow up by talking about his superb skills and how his talent for aerial combat were superior in comparison to his peers. Your father claimed that the rito was unmatched and unrivalled, as well as claiming that he may very soon be known as one of- if not the most skilled warrior in all of Hyrule. (Which was very high praise coming from your father, since he was rarely impressed by anyone).

It was like a shock wave was sent through your body. "In the name of Hylia! I didn't realise it was you! I am so sorry! Please forgive my rudeness", you blubbered, putting your half eaten dinner aside, stumbling over your words as you rushed out your apology. "So you have heard of me", he lulled before an amused smirk graced his features. "I suppose I can forgive you since your rudeness was more disbelief than pure ignorance". "Thank you”, you breathed a sigh of relief. “I have heard a lot about your skills and I-… well…", once again you had trailed off. You looked to Frita for reassurance, yet she seemed as nervous as you; her posture was stiff as she sat with a straight spine, her eyes glancing between you and the navy rito. "From what I've heard, you're an incredibly skilled archer", you approached the conversation cautiously, hoping this angle would amend any bitterness you may have caused. Revali looked a you and you felt your breath catch in your throat as you locked eyes before he let out a gruff chuckle. "I suppose you could say that".

You and Frita ate in a comfortable silence while listening to Revali drawl on about the countless competitions he's won along with his many talents regarding aerial combat. Before long, your mind began to wonder.

You couldn't help but think of home. How it was slowly being consumed by a festering anxiety. There was a heavy air across the whole of Castle Town as you all prepared for this prophesied impending doom. The army had began vigorously training since last month. Some of those warriors were your friends- people you had grown up with. It was terrifying to think how some of them you may never see again once the Calamity strikes. Some were beginning to research the ancient technology that had recently been unearthed to see if they could be used to defend Hyrule. These were called guardians, and then there were also the recently uncovered Divine Beasts. At times, it was all a bit much, being at the central hub of Hyrule where there is no escape from the looming sense of dread. Things were moving so quickly and it seemed as though you may never escape the ever present anxiety that hung in the air of Castle Town. But here, in Rito Village, people seemed more relaxed. Many ritos believed that their home would not be effected by the foreseen Calamity. This made the village a nice escape from daily life back home. Here, you weren't reminded of what was to come. You weren't reminded of your duties. You could just breathe easier here in the village nestled into the rocky pillar.

"I do love it here. Rito Village is such a beautiful place. I don't have a single bad memory while being here", you gushed, earning a raised brow from Revali at your comments about his home, his interest now piqued. "Is that so?". Before you could stop her, Frita spewed, "Yes, in fact, she might move here". You shot her a look, a signal to keep that information between the two of you, to which she sheepishly dipped her head in response. You didn't want others knowing of your plans to move just yet, especially since you hadn't even mentioned it to your parents. "A hylian living amongst ritos?", Revali questioned, an amused undertone laced within his words as his luminous eyes narrowed a fraction, as if trying to read your expressions for some sign of the truth. "Hylians aren't equipped for living here. You would struggle". "Yet so many visit and get by just fine", you bit back, sharp tongued yet it was all said with a simple smile across your lips. What he said was true, yet you disliked how he assumed you would struggle when Frita, a fellow rito, believed you could easily adapt to life in the village. "Visiting and residing are very different though", he then shot back, cocking his head to the side as he examined you and your heart began to pound slightly. You felt a pout develop on your features, brows furrowed. He made a point you couldn't argue against. It was the truth. "Well, I'm taking it upon myself to help her integrate into the village before she permanently moves here", Frita chipped in, sensing some tension settling in the air. "If you truly want to move here", Revali began, capturing your attention once more. He wore a smug smirk before he finished, "You'll have to prove yourself".

"Prove myself?", you parroted. "Yes. You'll have to learn our ways and prove to us that you belong here". Revali studied you for a moment, as if he hadn't been doing so all night already. "Firstly, the women of our village are know for being beautiful singers and us men are talented archers. Tell me, can you sing?".

Being from one of the wealthier families of Hyrule Kingdom, you did have the privilege of music lessons from a young age. Your parents wanted the best for you, so consequentially, you had many lessons in a multitude of subjects and areas; Geography, horse riding, music, dance, literature, cooking, etiquette, biology and more.

"I have had many singing lessons", you informed the feathered man matter-of-factly. "It's more a matter of personal taste weather you believe I sound good". "Perhaps you could sing for me tomorrow then. After my training, well meet at the flight range. You can showcase your voice there", he challenged, the smirk across his features growing as he stared down his beak at you. "After all, it would be rather nice to have something to help me relax after such strenuous training", he teased. "And if my voice is to your liking, what do I receive then?". There was a slight pause. "What do you mean?", he tilted his head slightly, perplexed by your response. "Well, if my voice is to your liking then that would mean I have somewhat proven myself worthy of living here amongst your kind", you began, Revali's attention honed in on you, "Which I believe would be worth a reward". "Your reward would be living amongst us", you ignored his comment, pressing on. "That being said, if I prove myself, then I would like to learn archery". "What good would that do you?", he asked. "It's always good for a woman to be able to defend herself, wouldn't you agree?". "But if you were living in Rito Village you wouldn't need to defend yourself", he argued. "I'd have to say it's always good for a woman to know how to use a bow", Frita affirmed your point, edging a little closer to you as she joined the conversation. "Especially a hylian. They are smaller than most races, so it's most likely that any threat they face will be larger than them and could over power them", Frita continued, delving more into her argument. "Exactly, Frita! Meaning wouldn't it be beneficial to have a long range weapon in that instance? Surely, with your knowledge on combat as one of the greatest warriors of our time, you'd agree, Revali". You couldn't help but notice how the feathers around his chest plate plumed in reaction to your words. You'd noticed many ritos would unintentionally do this when feeling prideful, being boastful or being frustrated or angry. Perhaps it was a subconscious way of asserting dominance? Like how a Hylian may square their shoulders to appear larger and more confident in front of others. "It would be an honour to have you teach me".

There was a pause.

"I suppose it would be beneficial for you to have the most skilled archer teach you…", he mused looking off into the night, as if he barely acknowledged your being , like you were nothing more than a speck on his radar.  A nuisance. "Alright, you have yourself a deal; continuously show your willingness and progression to integrate into our society, and in turn I will teach you how to use a bow". "And you swear not to go back on your word?", you quirked a brow in Revali's direction. "I swear".

#breath of the wild #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #botw revali #revali #x reader #revali x reader #botw tears of the kingdom #totk teba #rito village #rito #loz rito #prince sidon #tears of the kingdom sidon #loz botw

[pb-dot]

Writeblr Introduction

Suppose I should introduce myself per the writeblr Very Friendly Suggestions. I'm PB, or peebs if you prefer, I'm in my 30's, bisexual, dyspraxic, and as behooves a man of my standing I'm also grappling with considerable depression. I like to write, like it a lot and I always have. My main WIPs are: a clockpunk love story titled The Clockwork Boy, a Lovecraftian Horror Romance titled His Impossible Brushstrokes and a 30s-punk portal fantasy serial titled Thereafter. I also dabble with smaller projects I won't get into here. Mostly coherent and concise synopses of The Clockwork Boy, His Impossible Brushstrokes, and Thereafter follow below.

The Clockwork Boy

My NaNoWriMo 2022 novel was initially conceived because I couldn't find much fun MLM genre fiction to read, so I decided to get myself good and wedged into that niche. The story follows Jake, who's stuck in a dead-end job of machining gears and sundry parts as well as lifting heavy things until a small, yet deceptively strong young man crashes into his life, and also his arms. The young man is called 13, his entire body from the neck down is made out of impossibly complex clockwork parts, and he's on the run from multiple powerful people and factions.

13 is stronger and faster than anyone has the right to be, but several broken parts hold him back. Jake is immediately smitten by the complex mechanics of 13's clockwork body, not to mention his sad, blue eyes, and so vows to help repair 13. The complexity of the task at hand is only increased by the two being pursued by local goon squads as well as other clockwork-bodied people with numbers for names.

The world of The Clockwork Boy and the Hearts In Clockwork series, provided I get around to writing more of these things, is languishing in a peculiar type of anarchy. The Age of Steam has come and gone and after a series of destructive colonial wars known as The Coal Wars, the power of government and nation has all but eroded. In their place, an alliance of powerful merchants and holders of capital keeps an iron grip on what passes for law from their seat in the massive tower known only as The Spire. Their power is exerted through monopoly and other economic maneuvers, but also by their rowdy Enforcers, who rule through intimidation and sheer brutishness.

13, as it turns out, is part of The Clockmen, a hitherto hidden faction within The Spire, whose acerbic leader is working to create an elite force of clockwork-powered individuals to overthrow The Spire and their enforcers, but even within the clockmen, agendas differ. 13 was originally made to fight and kill rogue clockmen, but so objected to this that he fled, searching for his memories and what freedom could be found.

Jake and 13 eventually find themselves under the auspices of The Northwest, an underground worker-owned coop parts workshop that takes them in and offers them succor in their time of need. In the relative safety of The Northwest's hidden workshop, Jake and 13 get the time they need to perform the sizable number of repairs needed, and perhaps ask the question of what they are becoming to each other and what comes next.

The current status of the project at the moment is going through the old rewrite and editing wringers. I'm currently having the thing beta read and I'll make whatever changes I need after that before attempting to hook an agent to help me get the thing published. In the meantime, I post about it a lot. If you want to be up-to-date on the most recent rambles in the setting, check out the tag list post here

My final goal with this project is to somehow get it published and, provided I am not met with immediate scorn and ridicule, get started on writing one or more sequels. I don't have the entire series planned out or anything, but I have several stories in this universe planned, and I know where and how I want it to end.

His Impossible Brushstrokes

My 2023 NaNoWriMo entry and current Lagrange point of my life. Continuing the trend from last year of writing novels that I wish someone else had written already so I could read it, Brushstrokes is a male-led queer horror with a mspec protagonist, exploring the shared points between love and fear, admiration and obsession, and art and madness.

The story follows Oscar Skerry, an obsessive San Fran art critic who goes to progressively more extreme measures to understand the works of his favorite artist, a pan-European enfant terrible by the name Tomasz Gildebrant. Gildebrant is an obscure artist, whose paintings nevertheless go for exorbitant prices on account of his cult appeal.

Following the thread of an art patron going berserk and attempting to destroy a Gildebrant painting by eating it, Tomasz unravels the urban legend of Gildebrant Psychosis. This sickness allegedly drives some who see a Gildebrant painting into acts of brutality, depravity, or the profoundly absurd, and Oscar starts to suspect there is something deeper and darker going on than repeated failures of the mental health system.

Seemingly out of the blue, Oscar gets an invitation to join Gildebrant in his home in the southern Carpathian Mountains. Eager to get to the bottom of things, and share his theories with Gildebrant, Oscar accepts.

Once there, two things become readily apparent. One, Gildebrant is incredibly charming, so much so that Oscar finds himself doubting that Gildebrant could be the man behind the dark, disturbing paintings he obsesses over. Two, there are way too many things not adding up, like how the doors to his guestroom in the Gildebrant household lock automatically at midnight, and how many pairs of shoes fill Gildebrant's hallway.

Per April 2024, the first draft for His Impossible Brushstrokes is complete. The plan remains to seek tradpub or indie publishing once I've edited the thing.

Thereafter

My first self-released project. The first chapters of Thereafter is slated to be released via buttondown starting May 1st 2024. This story follows Michael, a man in his 30s who traveled to, and saved, a magical cave-world populated by kindly molefolk at the tender age of twelve (and a half.) Now, 20 years later, Michael struggles in life and finds himself wishing for those simpler days of adventure again. Life is not without a sense of cruel irony, as the phenomenon that spirited him away all those years ago reoccur. Michael doesn't find himself in the serene caves of the molefolk, however, but in a desperately ramshackle city built from the flotsam and jetsam of thousands upon thousands of worlds.

This strange town goes by the name of Thereafter, and it was the surviving population of the cave world, as well as many other worlds, built with what they could salvage after The Calamity. Few who saw the world-destroying catastrophe lived to tell the tale, and the few who have, tell conflicting and surely nonsensical tales of it. Either way, the few that survived being flung into the void between worlds found their way to this nexus of the dispossessed, where the despair of dispossession percolated under the pressure of resource insecurity and a general sense of the world quite literally coming to an end.

To assuage some of these fears, The Council of Thereafter, a hastily assembled collection of wizards, wise men and the occasional cryptic hermit, decided to summon heroes of the old to their side. Due to the way time flows differently in the realms of magic, centuries and even millennia have passed since Michael saved the Molefolk, and the tales of his exploits have only grown in his absence.

Fortunately, Michael will not be alone in his task of portraying a heroic figure far beyond what he is able to actually be. Unfortunately, his colleagues in this endeavor are all messed up to an equal degree to him. Lex, the Polish enby scientist, is cynical on a level that borders on the parodic and worryingly horny. Felipe, the Mexican pro athlete archer, is arrogant, flighty and seems physically unable to take anything seriously. Finally, Alicia, the New York-based fitness influencer, seems restless in a way that either speaks to undiagnosed ADHD or truly world-shaking rage contained under the athletic facade.

Together, this rag-tag band of 30-somethings must unite in their quest to portray the heroes that history have made them, all the while grappling with what it means to be a hero in a desperately imperfect world. The city of Thereafter is full of crime born of desperation, hatred born of fear, and runaway magic, but that is not all. After all, the only thing anyone can agree on about the Calamity is that it is still out there and may one day turn its destruction upon Thereafter.

With Thereafter, I plan to work more with character and group dynamics than I have in my earlier works. The dysfunctional found family of the Heroes is supposed to be a big draw of the story, alongside the mystery of The Calamity and more pressing concerns about survival. As usual for a Peebs story, there will also be rumination, politics and philosophy involved, tigers don't usually change their stripes after all, but we're also getting a fantasy post-apocalyptic tale of love, bravery, and the many obscure pains of growing up.

Thereafter will, as mentioned above, be released on a chapter by chapter basis via Buttondown, with an archive also being kept on Cohost. A subscription link will follow as release date approaches.

#writeblr #writing #hearts in clockwork #writeblr intro #writing community #his impossible brushstrokes

[roxannepolice]

This may be stretching the concept of work's intent and possibly conflating it with reader's intent, but I think if you scratch to the absolute bottom of chameleon arch in s3 the ultimate difference between the Doctor and the Master becomes being people oriented vs. goal oriented. Like, if you go beyond the question of "could the Doctor have been something of a bad person* and the Master a good person", and ask "under what circumstances would they be like this", it looks like the Doctor - or, what aside from a body (with all its mind-indepented memories) was left of them in John Smith - was. well. being oriented towards people around him. And. that's what had One go from crotchety man willing to kill over his secrets or even a freaking lighter into the Doctor that is. Meeting all those wonderful companions, starting from Ian and Barbara that would just tell him fuck off you're crossing a line and I will not have it. And no, I don't think it's a matter of "wanting to be liked", but rather seeing "oh my Omega, I actually hurt this person". And in the main story that worked out for good, and in fact I would say that when it comes to "origins of morality" and "how to live" questions, that is the more reliable way to go! But when that same mindset is surrounded by all the bigotry - as well as just living a nice life as it is provided to you! - of edwardian era, it results in... well, obviously, the way to deal with those evil guys is to FITE! and this is what all those teenage boys have been trained to do, should the need call (ah, the hanging cloud of knowledge a need will in fact call them so soon in this two-parter...)! And this... competent. but ultimately underdeveloped through no fault of her own maid needs to just have the distinction between fiction and reality explained to her, the poor thing probably thinks the invention of writing is only to be used for things that are absolutely true... Yeah, punch him.

I use the term "goal-oriented" for the Master, but I suppose I should clarify, because we all know that if it was pure goal-orientation, then there are infinitely easier ways to take over the world that *checks notes* man-eating sofas. Yes, the Master is absolutely into over-convoluted plans to the point where they become a goal in itself. But what I mean is, no, they can't just hang around seeing the universe, they need a goal to achieve, there has to be a point to all this, and survival and power are arguably the two most basic goals there can be, once you scratch happiness as a bit too indefinite. And obviously, that's the exact opposite of "how to live". In many ways its a much more animalistic and base motivation than anything a conscious mind might want. Kind of existence vs. life distinction. BUT? In those last few decades of universe's existence??? Where there is literally no other goal left than survival? Not necessarily your own survival, but rather survival as an abstract concept, survival of ANYTHING? That mindset, combined with brains, makes you the most wonderful person that could possibly be! You're there, doggedly pursuing the only goal left in the universe, putting all of the resources you have left, MAKING ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY OUT OF FREAKING FOOD, and if anyone has any shot at surviving it is indeed thanks to you! There are two apparent contradiction to this (as of course there have to be in a story that's honest and not just making a point). The first is Yana keeping up the hopes of other people even while knowing it's likely false, and the second is him being willing to sacrifice himself so others will reach Utopia. But if you think about it. Both of these things are, in a way, utilitarian. Yes, hope is often framed as the ultimate irrational ideal, but once it's gone from everyone else, then... what is there to do? That's the end to the only goal left. So long as others hope you can get them out, you can go on tinkering just in bloody case. And while giving up your life for others tends to be framed as the ultimate act of good... there's a level at which Yana just freaking calucates himself as the easiest to expend. He's old and tired. The people who managed to reach the silo are either children or young and strong, there's a lot ahead of them. This is cynical and absolutely not the perspective to hold. But. at the end of the universe. This cynicism leads to sacrifice.

THAT IS NOT SAY YANA ISN'T JUST PLAIN NICE AND SHOWING MORE CONSIDERATION FOR OTHER'S FEELINGS THAN THE MASTER IN ANY FORMAT EVER DID! But I suppose when you're goal-oriented and everyone around you literally has no other goals than yours... why not just be kind** indeed?

Yes, there's a great tensimm fanfic about this:

*I admit I think one of the most interesting aspects of John Smith was precisely making him not a good person but hardly the worst man there ever was maybe it's because I've read edwardian era books that makes me think his paternalisation of Martha really wasn't the worst way for a white man to treat a poc even without outright violence. But if he was a really good person then that would just tell you making him give up his existence was bad because he's a good person whereas as it is the question is what makes the subjectively real existence of this particular not very good but not really worse than millions of people like him man that devloped subjectively very real bonds with others more expendable than any other's?

** Gosh my mixed feeling for Twelve, like I love him, he's up there with 2,3,4 and 10 as character-defining for me, but why just why have him always turn out to be ultimately right about his absolute morals, he's kind of the antithesis to time lord victorious, so long as you do the kind thing then there's always an unforeseen ex machina to prove you right, you'll never fuck up REAL bad, a real dilemma is not between making the choice that's subjectively or objectively good, it's between two objectively bad choices once again Simm!Master fell where he stood no less than Twelve.

#doctor who #meta #doctor who meta #dw meta #the doctor #the master #tenth doctor #john smith #jacobi!master #professor yana #doctor who human nature/family of blood #doctor who utopia #philosophy in doctor who

[bakerstreethound]

🎻Send me a song 🎻 I’ll analyze it and tell you what fictional it reminds me of and the scenario that comes to my mind.

I know how much you love Sleep Token, I will pick their song 'Alkaline' for you. Have fun. 💙 ~ Bluebellinbakerstreet

I hope you are buckled up for the ride on this one because I adore Sleep Token’s music and will probably not shut up about it for a long time, so I thank you for sending one of their songs for I am chomping at the bit. I hope you enjoy some angst here! There is some softness if you squint.

Heart of Molecules

Contains spoilers for Good Omens Season 2; you have been warned! This is perhaps a love story, but not one you were expecting. Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Every once in a while something changes, and she's changing me. It's too late for me now, I am altered. There is something beneath. 

In short, Alkaline reminds me of a love story between Angel Crowley and the stars and nebulas he created. The absolute joy he radiates at his creations and the wonder and joy on his face are unmatched. He’s so unbelievably poud and happy at his gorgeous conjurings he worked on for who knows how long, before the beginning of time itself!

I’ve said this is a love story (and will continue to say so) this nebula and stars he falls in love with the complexity of the universe, knowing the significance of it that it’s too important to be erradicated. I would go so far as to say Aziraphale and the nebula Crowley created are both loved equally in Crowley’s eyes. 

She's not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light the objects of my desire.

Again, it is Angel Crowley’s love letter to the universe he created and this ends up all being in a dream. Then he gets the notion this is the universe beckoning him home (even though he’s now a demon and needing refuge), and when he wakes along some old country road, asleep in his Bentley, and it all crushes back into him everything he lost and he wonders about the possibility of escaping back to his first love, the wonder of the stars, because he finds confort in them, as if it was a fragment of a memory long gone but he can’t pinpoint them. He knows the dream he has is definitely a call back to where he could be welcomed back with open arms, without judgement. 

It was comforting to him, yes and he could nurse what was left of his shattered heart. Which is  a reason the nebula poked at his dream, there’s still a connection to the universe he holds dear and he can’t stop thinking about them, for a creator cannot forget their creation. 

Ooh, let's talk about chemistry, 'Cause I'm dying to melt through to the heart of her molecules, till the particles part like holy water. If anything, she's an undiscovered element. Either born in hell or heaven-sent. Either way I'm into it. 

When he does return to Alpha Centuri the nebula there welcomes him, burning bright, welcoming him into her embrace. His glorious nebula burns brighter than ever, shifting in its form (almost human but not quite), wrapping him in their own sort of embrace, though he doesn’t feel the burn of them or is singed. He offers them a small smile, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

 “Gosh,” he holds back a tear, “You’re gorgeous as ever.” 

The nebula swirls around him once again, in a show of excitement, bathing him in a cloakof stars and sunsets he recognizes. Almost akin to Joseph’s coat of many colors, it drapes along his shoulders shimmering and dancing amongst the stars, colors enhanced and forms to him as if it was always meant to be. In a way it was, for the creation had crafted it for their creator when they were no longer an angel, waiting for the day when they would return to return what rightfully belonged to them. 

Not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light, the objects of my desire.

Crowley chokes back more tears for this was the more than he thought he deserved. Eons of having his heart broken the almost eternal pining for his angel up above. Perhaps one day they would meet again, but for now, he’s back where he belonged in a universe of his own creation, safe amongst the stars. Here they welcomed him home tenfold. Here he could perhaps find the peace to mend his broken heart. 

******

Ace's 5yr Celebration

#good omens #good omens imagine #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #david tennant #good omens fanfiction #gos2 spoilers #ace's 5yr anniversarry #celebration #tumblr anniversary #my writing #he's in love with his universe your honor #and they welcomed him back home #angel crowley makes me soft #look at that beautiful smile #angel!crowley #good omens 2

[gayerthanevertbh]

apeitheia - epilogue.

pairings | older!scarlett johansson x fem!reader

gif not mine!

summary | hollywood’s wealthiest actress, scarlett johansson, is happily married to her comedian husband. that is until she meets one of her staff in her brand-new company and starts to have a long-lasting affair - which is committing adultery and the disobedience that comes within. (THIS IS COMPLETELY FICTIONAL!)

warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI angst, mild fighting, soft smut, pet names, sex on the countertop, and fluff.

notes | ending this series here :) i’m glad you enjoyed this story as much as i did and i hope to be making more of these in the future, if you feel like there’s something missing let me know through my comments or inbox! i could make a short fic with this type of universe :) bye!

series masterlist | masterlist | taglist series

I have gone foolish since Scott showed up in my life. He's a menace in my eyes, a boy that should have vanished away from the earth. How much I loathe to think he has a chance over her. Have I gone foolish enough to have done some stupidity? Some jealousy? Is that the reason why Y/N no longer wants to see me? Of course, I'm exaggerating. She said something about "time off" and I don't understand "time off". What "time off"? What have I done so wrong to make her walk away? Am I not aware of my surroundings? Boy, I was stupid. Foolish. Careless. I can't even think of other words to describe how stupid I was.

"You have to drink that coffee."

Silence is abrupt between us, and I shake my head.

"Do you think she'll ever forgive me?"

"Not if you don't eat your damn food."

"I have to know if," I say with a sniffle, my eyes clearly watering as I think about petal. "Maybe if she would forgive me–she would, right? It's just some stupid mistake."

Lizzie sighs, and it's not one of those normal sighs that you let out. It's a sigh of: I'm so annoyed by this conversation but I do understand your kind of sigh.

"It was pretty stupid," she responds, echoing my words–I felt guilty when she did that. "But you have to give her space, Scarlett. She needs that right now, you've become this overly jealous woman that has no trust in her partner."

"That's not true–"

She cuts me off, "It is. You're just not realizing that right now. Look, why don't we go out for a walk? Maybe where the paparazzi can't find us."

"I don't even feel like walking." I just want to die, jump off a cliff, and bang my head against the wall until it bleeds. Let it bleed, let me rot, I need for that to happen. Where is the death note when you need it?

"You need some time off with Y/N," she says. "If you think about her a lot, you'll never change. Come on, do it for your girlfriend."

Whatever possessed my head and my body, I agreed. We walked at Central Park–glad enough that there weren't many people that could harass us–and I didn't think about her for an hour of walking. Although I won't lie if I do see anything that has flowers, it reminded me too much of her. I can't even count how many days since the last time I saw petal, maybe years? God, I don't even know. And when we got back to my house, I couldn't do anything but let out a few sobs. Maybe I was being too much, perhaps mean toward her and Scott. I hate to even admit that I was being immature with Y/N, and it's something that I could never admit–even to my poor heart. I was, in fact, insanely immature about the whole situation. The memory of my bad reaction when I saw the emails, I didn't even give her the time to explain everything. Or when we were driving back home, all I could remember doing was clenching the steering wheel until I could see smoke coming out of my ears like from a comic book.

The next day, and the next day, were the same. I wake up on my couch and am served a cup of coffee that Lizzie made–purely with heart. I liked it dark and hot, with no sugar at all; not even a god damn creamer. I drank five to six cups of coffee in a day and only two sandwiches that usually were served around lunch and dinner time. I always tell her to stop being too kind and leave the house, but she never budged–not even one bit.

"Do you want to tell me what really went down?" Silence is abrupt when her voice comes into this melody, but not as beautiful as petal's voice. I turned to look at her and shrugged. What was there to explain?

"I don't think you would want to know." I responded in a small voice, peeling a small skin from my finger that stung a little.

"I think you need to let it all out, Scarlett."

I tried not to sob, but I did. I covered my mouth and laughed with a broken voice, a broken heart. Never have I ever been this affected, not even once. All because of a girl who came into my life that I shouldn't be in love with, it's not as depressing as it seems. I love her, I love her, I am in love with her. She's all I could think about, all I could seize to be with. I've done a mistake–not even once–and now she has slipped away from me like I'm a speck of dust in the air.

"I was overly protective," I tell her, sniffling as I tried to think about what else I'd really done to hurt her. "I didn't give her the opportunity to explain why I saw that... fucking email. I completely went insane to her, like I was threatening her or something and I think I did that out for no reason. I could've just listened but I didn't. Instead, I fought with her and made her feel like she wasn't validated."

"And have you done this in the past?"

"Now you just sound like my fucking therapist." I spat out, chuckling with slight annoyance. You can't blame me, she sounded like an actual therapist who seemed to be so interested in your life.

Lizzie sighs and brings her hand to my back, rubbing it up and down. And as much as I hate the contact of her palm, it felt soothing and made me feel a little sleepy if I had to be honest. She says in a reasoning tone, "I'm not on anyone's side here, but you have done a decent amount of pain towards Y/N. It was right for her to leave, let her breathe, Scarlett. I know I may sound too condescending but that's all I could tell you. Let her breathe, let her walk back to you."

"But I am sorry," I whispered under my breath, choking another sob. She pulls me closer to her body as I cry even more like a mad woman. "I know what I did, I was being a jackass–I know I was, I just want her back here. I need her to breathe, Liz. I can't do this without her, without knowing that she's okay."

"Give her space, darling," she says. "I know you want to, I understand. But you have to let her come back to you. Please give her that space as well."

With what Lizzie asked a while ago that I did not respond to, I can fully admit that I've done it in the past. But she never allegedly spoke about it, and neither did I. I thought to myself that it's just me being a protective girlfriend, that I want her to stay away from the people that could harm her. I already do sound alarming, especially when Lizzie told me that I do have to give her some space. And with all my tears that are on her shirt, I've come to the realization that I was the only problem that caused more problems.

How depressing that sounds that it's almost agonizing.

I don't know how long I've been standing in front of a gas station store, but here I was. The truth is, this gas station is closer to Scarlett's home destination–that's the only reason why I came here in the first place. Should I just walk away? No, I'm here already. What do I do now? Stare. Stare in misery, that's what you should do.

A person hollered, "Scarlett's whore!" and I simply couldn't turn to look at the person and tell him to go fuck himself. My eyes and body were just glued to the store, and as much as I want to move, I can't. I pinched my nose bridge and shook my hands off, I needed to calm down. There would be no absolute way for her just to show up, it would be a lot easier if she did.

The thing is, I went to her house last month. There was this pan of regret and guilt that ran through my head, it wouldn't stop. Maybe I was the one who reacted badly about everything, perhaps it wasn't even her fault. But the way she looked at me with her horrific eyes, how her hands gripped my biceps, everything felt intense and dehumanizing–I almost chuckled how I explained that pretty well.

What I didn't notice is that Scarlett's car was a few feet away from me, and the moment that I turned around I saw her frail body with black sunglasses covering her eyes; I could barely see them. I felt my body moving again, but I wasn't stepping forward toward her. She did though, and before I could even move I felt her arms wrapping around my small body as her head buried in my neck. I almost forgot how cuddly she was.

"Scarlett, the people could see–"

"Let them," let them. She pulls away briefly and smiles in tears of joy, then pecks on my forehead. "I-I thought I wouldn't see you again, I thought..."

"I was supposed to go to your house." it was the truth, I was going to her house but all so suddenly she found me instead.

A couple of girls were by the block and saw Scarlett and I have an intimate interaction, they look like the type of people who would gossip about us in school, like a nasty rumor. I was about to panic, leave the woman on the street, and walk home full of regret when suddenly I felt her hands cupping my cheek as she reassures me with a whisper: "Don't mind them. Let them see us, let them know how much I love you."

I wanted to pull away. Love? We haven't seen each other for approximately four months, how could she still love me now? How could she still see me the way she saw me months ago? Wasn't there an article about her going out with someone else? Why now? What happened then?

"I think we should talk about our you know," I mentioned, lowering my head down. "W-We should just talk somewhere private."

Scarlett gulps, as if she knows where this is about to go, but agrees. "O-Okay, baby. Let's go to your house. My house?"

"I think my place would be a lot safer right now."

"You don't have to mind them, you know?" she tells me, lifting my chin up. God, she still has this stupid effect on me that only works when she touches my skin. "I want them to know about our love, don't you want that too?"

"We should really talk about our relationship."

Because I don't know if I could handle being with you any longer.

"Okay," she sighs, still hugging me as if hiding me from the world. "Let's go to your house."

I bought a small apartment near Brooklyn when I decided to stay off-guard with Scarlett. And when she came inside my home, it was like opening old wounds. Except that, they weren't as bad as it seems. It was refreshing to see her at my home, to see her become another different person behind those cameras. She's real with me, she's affectionate with me, she makes me feel alive even. And when I saw her hands touching my personal stuff, it felt like nothing ever happened between us.

"I miss your old apartment." she says, breaking off the silence. I wonder why.

"How come?" I asked while bringing her a cold glass of water, she accepts it with our hands touching, and I almost fell onto my knees.

She sits on the small couch that was near the window as she spaces out for a bit, like gathering her thoughts or something. Then, I hear her say with an affectionate whisper: "Because it was small, like our world. I felt more vulnerable with you, I like how we were just two beings in one small box. I don't know, it probably sounds stupid anyway."

"Nothing you say sounds stupid."

I finally made myself sit down beside her, and I could feel how the atmosphere changed. Have I missed being this close to her? Yes, I have. Her hair seemed shorter and her eyebags were heavy. She looked tired, frail, and wearied. I almost couldn't recognize her. But with that melodic voice of hers, I could never forget what she was like. We were so close once more, but I had to keep my distance, to prove to her that I wouldn't let myself fall back like that easily.

"Y/N..."

"You're sorry I know."

"Let me tell you how much I am sorry," she said with sincerity, even her eyes say it all. She touches my knee and squeezes it, sniffling to herself. "I was stupid, really fucking stupid. I shouldn't have been so... threatening. I know that I've done more than that, and I'm seeking your forgiveness. I don't mind if you don't forgive me now, but at least let me make it all up to you. Let me–"

"Now you just sound like you're doing this for publicity," I scoffed as I stood up, walking towards the kitchen to gather all my unleashing thoughts. Now, she wasn't sincere. Now, I can see her true colors. She walks to me and tries to touch me, but I shove myself away from her. She looked hurt, good enough. "What are you doing, Scarlett?"

"Baby..."

"Do not–" I stopped midway and hold my hand up, blinking twice. "Don't call me that! Not when you've hurt me and sought someone else."

Scarlett knew what I was referring to, but she seemed like she was in shock. She responded solemnly, "That was only a friend from work, sweet girl... please don't assume so quickly."

"I'm not your sweet girl."

"Please stop," she begs, shaking her head as she cups my face. Our foreheads were touching now, and I couldn't bring myself to pull away. She was closer to my lips, and by another inch, we were going to kiss. "You're the only girl I'll love, the only girl I'll always think about. If I have to bring you flowers and new vinyl records every day then I will. If I have to let you hurt me, then I will let you. If I have to impress your parents that they'll approve of me, then I will. Just please don't give up, not after I spent my time loving you."

"Do you mean what you're telling me right now?" I asked, my voice feeling a little pitchy. Then I realized I was crying, and she was wiping my tears away with her thumb. I wanted her to hug and kiss me, to make love to me on this countertop. Just come closer, Scarlett. Kiss me already.

"You know I never lie, petal."

I've missed how she called me petal from the tip of her mouth, how her tongue rolls out when she calls me by that nickname she made for me. I wanted to call her lovie all over again, but I was playing a dangerous game here. We were so close to kissing that I wanted to pull her by the neck and just lather her tongue all over my mouth. You know I'd never lie too when I say I love you, lovie. You know I'd never lie if I told you how much I want to be with you and let my hands thread through your hair, pulling you closer until we are in this dance sequence.

She places her hand on my cheek and rubs my skin with her thumb, smiling with tearful eyes. I whispered, "You can kiss me, you can take me."

"I ought to take you."

"Then do it," I was desperate now, I was opening my legs for her so that she could make love to me on this spot. Do it, I say. Do it now. "Do you want to make love to me, Lovie?"

She nods, unbuttoning her cardigan and throwing it across the room. Her hands were back to my waist and pushing me against the surface. "I want to make love to you, Petal."

"Come and take me," I mewled, peppering kisses on the corner of her mouth. "Come on, Scarlett. Take me, make love to me."

She doesn't waste any more time and kisses me on the lips that I've been longing for months. Nothing changed with our kiss, it was all pure and passionate. I had my hands on her nape while I felt her tongue flicking on my upper lip to access more of my mouth. And once she did, our tongues were dancing together like a great melody. She kisses me hard, she kisses me softly. And either way, I didn't mind. I missed her just how much she missed me, I never want to let her go again like that.

She ran her knuckles on your cheeks, pulling away slightly when I could feel her breath trickling on my bottom lip. "I love you."

And before even thinking about it, I knew what my heart was screaming.

"I love you too."

A few minutes later, our clothes were discarded. I was sitting against the countertop with her mouth on my neck, her hand raking my waist while her other hand was in my inner thighs. My nails were on her back, scratching when her hand gets closer to my crotch. She moans at me, she breathes in me, and I take it like the good person I am. Scarlett whimpers, "You're all mine, petal. It's all mine to take and have, all mine to love and care for."

Scott Adamos was now in my head, and I remember our high school romance. It was great while it lasted, but it's something I don't want to revisit again. It even rippled through my head when she hinted about Scott, I almost cringed in disgust. I never saw him again after that dinner date, and never planned to see him again. It's not because of Scarlett, but because of the life that I don't want to see again.

"Can I push in, baby girl?" she asked desperately, moaning at each kiss we share. I nodded, responding quickly: "Make love to me right now, lovie."

All I could feel was her two fingers inside of me. I threw my head back until I suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, I didn't realize I was that aroused. She pumps her fingers in and out repeatedly, staring down at her glistening fingers that were coated by my thick white discharge. She continues to assault my hole while peppering kisses on my wet chest, bringing her hips up as well to get some of the friction that she needed. I was moaning, whimpering if I had to exaggerate. She smiles at me and presses her lips on mine, almost in an open-mouth kiss.

"Mmph," she groans out, curling her fingers to hit my sweet spot. "You love me?"

"I love you," I repeated hazily, smiling at her while shutting my eyes again when she pushes three fingers inside of me. Fuck, she was good. "I-I love it when you fuck me..."

"I love it too," Scarlett gropes my breast, kneading it with care while harshly curling her fingers inside of me. "I've missed this pussy of yours, look how fucking horny you are to me. So desperate... only for me."

"Only for you."

Our mouths were touching each other while her fingers thrust inside of me wildly, making both of our body jitters. I was holding onto her neck, afraid enough to let go as if she'll slip away that quick. She would kiss me from time to time, but her only mission was to get me on edge until I fell apart on her as she has always wanted. We were kissing vigorously, making the entire apartment fill up with our nasty noises. Take me harder, Scarlett. Take me, fuck me, go harder. Mold yourself onto me until we're two people in one body, I need you to go harder so that your love only remains.

"You are by far," she breathes while moaning out a fuck under her breath. "You are the prettiest little angel I've ever made love with, I'll never let you go again, sweet girl."

"Feels so good," I rasped out, pressing my forehead against hers while rolling my hips to get some friction from her palm. "Tell me you love–Ugh!–tell you to love me, lovie."

"I love you." she gives two hard thrusts until I was screaming, the entire room vibrating from my voice.

"Again..."

"I love you," she muses, looking down from my cunt that made contact with her fingers. She moans to herself once again, enjoying the sight that was displayed in her eyes. "God, you look so incredible like this... I fucking love you, baby."

She bites on my ear as she falls apart first, shuddering her shoulders when white stars were appearing in her eyes. She was in oblivion, her entire body wouldn't stop jittering from her climax. And when she came, I felt myself coming too. By that sight, I just know it's something magical for me. We were both moaning incoherently, muttering quietly you're so good for me while I was still clenching around her thick fingers. My hands were still on her back, gripping her close until I could've sworn I passed out on her.

"Can I play a song?" she asked, kissing my nape while we were in bed together. After four orgasms, we decided to rest in a quiet room that was filled with my books and vinyl records. A poster of Lana Del Rey was still on the floor, begging to be hung on the wall.

"You don't have to ask."

"But this is your house," she kisses my back, her hands kneading both of my breasts with such affection. "I think this room is too big for your liking, hm?"

She was right. This room was too big for me, she knows how much I adore smaller rooms because to her reference, it felt more intimate. I like it that way, and I knew she did too. I just bought this apartment so that I could stay away from the people who were going to harass me; only because I'm dating Scarlett.

I nodded. "Yeah, I don't think I'll ever get my old studio apartment back."

"I'll buy it for you."

"That's nonsense–"

"I seriously will," she holds me close while kissing the shell of my ear. "We can always go there if we want something more intimate, then stay at my house since it is our house. Plus, I kind of wanted to move in with you because of that studio apartment."

"Really?" I asked with a higher pitch in my voice. She nods.

"Yeah," Scarlett hides her face in my neck. I giggled when she licked my skin like a cat. "How about we just buy a smaller house where we can live, maybe not in New York."

"What about your job here?"

"We'll stay close," she says. "Maybe we can stay in Massachusetts. Your favorite poet Emily Dickinson has a museum there, do you want to check that out?"

I smiled and turned to look at her face, she looked more beautiful when the sunset shined on her skin. She looked more beautiful when she was with me, holding my body closer to hers. Everything felt so... peaceful for once. As if no problems have occurred in our life, and I'd like to keep it that way. It doesn't mean that I'll forget what she has done, but I can learn to forgive and move on. Nothing is perfect, I can guarantee that. But she, in fact, was perfect.

My love for her never wavers once more, and I'll continue to love her for the rest of my life. Cliche, but we love it.

"I'd like that very much, Lovie."

She smiles, her teeth pearling at me, then kisses my cheek like it was a lingering lullaby.

"Okay, Petal."

She played a song that reminded her of me, and I could remember our body swaying with the music faintly playing in the background. Moments like this could never be that tasteful, how can anyone hate it?

                                                        END.

taglist: @when-wolves-howl  @disappointment99 @mysticalcandyking @onetruwhore @d14n4ol @aliancvnas @princess-kennys-rats @aru-son @just-another-ant1 @blinkmuch @natashalovers @natasharomanoffswifeyyy @mrsromanoff @monaekelis @anxiousgoldengirl @nanathebb @bipolar-ride @blckwidowsbf @lizzieolsen89 @mrsrushman @simpforolderwomen @silverstarr13 @gryffindorkromanoff  @untitled7717 @daddynatasha @simp4nat @natasharomanoffswife17 @scarlettsnat @splatashaizgay @mrs-johansson @agent99galanzo @aeroae @sweet12sorrow @mmmmokdok @dubleshcpi

#natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson angst #apeitheia series

[aufi-creative-mind]

What would have lead to Hyrule being MORE then 10,000 years old in your timeline? Most states and cultures IRL don’t even last above several centuries at most, so I wonder what’s the reason for it’s epithet as the “Eternal Kingdom” as mentioned in one of your posts

So... the name "Eternal Kingdom" is mainly what other countries outside of the Hyrule's border called them. Since from their perspective, the Kingdom of Hyrule had a very long and unbroken rule over its lands for 10 000 years under the same name and same ruling royal family. With evidences that they do have some level of divinity to back them up.

As opposed to themselves who may have gone through cycles of change. For example, my version of Ordon - their own recorded history goes back at least 9000 years with multiple eras of different rulers, governance, disasters and significant events that shape them into their present-day state. These countries and their people don't essentially need to know Hyrule's origins and take it into account with how they view this ancient Kingdom. But as far as they are aware, Hyrule has always been there. Until the day of the Second Calamity and how that shattered Hyrule's 10K year long streak.

.

As for how old Hyrule actually is, I put an asterisk on the " 10 000 years* " since it's a bit vague and they didn't really give definite dates on when exactly certain events occurred and how far apart they happened from each other.

My interpretation of the BotW-TotK timeline is that the Founding of the Kingdom of Hyrule, the Imprisoning Wars and later the First Calamity happened WITHIN the Ancient Era of 10K. And the Age of Zonai along with precedessors of the Ancient Hyruleans existed for some time before the Kingdom's founding. (The exact number of years / dates lost or forgotten from historical records ).

At least from the standpoint of BotW/TotK's present-day. Since it happened so far back in time that its all mashed together into a blur.

Its implied that very little of recorded history from back then survived to present-day. Either because of written text being lost or destroyed, language drift (similar to how Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs were misinterpreted/untranslatable for the longest time until the Rosetta Stone discovery in 1799) or they were forgotten from living memory. Or even a combination of all above.

TL;DR - the Kingdom of Hyrule is estimated to be 10 000-ish years old in the BotW-TotK timeline, based on in-game lore and history. And because of their extreme longevity, the Kingdom is sometimes called the "Eternal Kingdom" by their neighbours.

--

Lastly, this is a rule I give to myself when it comes to worldbuilding, whether it be with the Legend of Zelda or...any fictional world I play around with.

The fictional world and their lore does not essentially have to be realistic, to our real world standards. It only needs to be believable within the rules of their fantastical universe. (Quoted by me cuz I made that up, 05 Sept 2023)

What I mean by this is that, it is okay to take inspiration from real world history, culture and people when building up your stories and the world that it is set in. How realistic you want your worlds and stories to be is completely up to you. BUT it is not essential. You can be as fantastical and mind-blowing as you want in your world and stories. As long as it is believable to the reader / player.

Hyrule being 10 000(ish) years old is frankly mind-bending and almost eldritch to think about. And that's okay. You can accept that official canon or not. And let's be honest, Nintendo is not that well-known for their lore building in their games. And the canon Zelda timeline is already a mess to follow with.

(Also do check out Overly Sarcastic Productuon's video about BotW-Hyrule and its environmental storytelling (pre-TotK release). It has influenced how I interpret this specific version of Hyrule).

Personally, realism for me is more of a source of inspiration rather than a hard rule to how my worlds work. I build my worlds to be...places that I want to explore. With that feeling of exploration to immerse people into what this world is like and their in-universe lore adds layers that can excite the imagination.

And that's the beauty of worldbuilding. You can make the most fantastical world with magic, dragons and aliens, or the most realistic world based on real life but with mechas, dinosaurs and cowboys. Because why not!

The only limitation is your own imagination and how you build it up.

TL;DR - You can worldbuild the most realistic or fantastical world as much as you want. As long as it is believable to the reader that they too can imagine your world in their own imaginations.

#answered #worldbuilding #zelda worldbuilding #zelda lore #project ordon #botw project ordon #botw totk project ordon #botw totk beyond hyrule #botw beyond hyrule #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #tears of the kingdom #totk

[jimahalangel]

Gelatin Skeleton

Summary:

Apparently the multiverse doesn't need your permission to Isekai you. It doesn't even have to give you the courtesy of letting you know it happened.

…

Undertale is gone, like it never existed.

…

You would know—you've looked.

…

"Wait- so you're telling me the void ate my universe? I'm living the weirdest 'I survived' book?!! Introducing to scholastic book fairs everywhere: 'I survived the destruction of the universe when the void decided to get all schlorpy schlorpy!?'"

…

"I am unfortunately fully aware of what information your universe had in the way of… fanfiction about my friends and family-"

...

Notes:

Formatting is better on AO3 (italicized font and such)

Update schedule: AO3 will get new chapters earlier (probably about a day) than Tumblr. (Aiming for once a week, on Thursdays or Fridays - not set in stone)

Link to read on AO3:

Chapter 1: Wikipedia, my beloved.

(read chapter 2 here)

Going to sleep in one universe and waking up in another sounds like the kind of thing people would write about in various types of fiction. Because it is . It's such a prevalent trope that it has its own genre: Isekai .

As defined by Wikipedia, "Isekai, ( Japanese: 異世界, transl. "different world" or "otherworld") is a genre of speculative fiction—both portal fantasy and science fiction are included. It includes novels, light novels, films, manga, anime and video games that revolve around a displaced person or people who are transported to and have to survive in another world, such as a fantasy world, virtual world, or parallel universe. Isekai is one of the most popular genres of anime, and Isekai stories share many common tropes…"

You'd think someone would notice being Isekai-d; that you might feel different upon waking up in a world where things are changed in new and mysterious ways—perhaps feel empowered? Surely when one is suddenly transported into another reality, they might remember the day it happened?

Apparently the multiverse doesn't need your permission to Isekai you. It doesn't even have to give you the courtesy of letting you know it happened.

Or, well, you think this is another universe, at least? Because an entire chunk of internet-culture/pop-culture was missing when you went to Google it yesterday.

Is missing.

Still.

Undertale is gone, like it never existed. You would know—you've looked.

It's not like years' worth of memes and fanfiction and fanart pertaining to a game that changed the entire gaming industry could just up and disappear out of nowhere, could it?! But you can't find any sign of it anywhere online or offline—and you definitely had physical evidence.

You'd stayed up all night last night searching for a single trace of the game and fandom you'd spent years of your life looking toward for comfort and entertainment. You’d looked everywhere.

But it's gone.

All of it.

Everything.

It's impossible.

There has to be an explanation.

Which brings you to your current Isekai theory: Maybe it's not gone— you are. You might be somewhere new where it never existed in the first place.

Either that or your brain is really majorly messed up and created an alarmingly huge chunk of false memories.

.... Actually… How long has Undertale been missing for you?

Has this happened before and you just can't remember it?

You check your search history. Nothing about Undertale before yesterday. Which is definitely strange because you'd been on AO3 looking through Undertale tags two weeks ago. And there's no need to delete your search history when you live alone. Your most recent search history from right before your rabbit hole yesterday is still the same Wikipedia article you remember reading.

Strange.

So Undertale being wiped from the face of the Earth must've happened sometime in the past two weeks.

You check the Google search trends for the words, 'Undertale' and 'Meglovania,' among several other words and phrases more unique to the game and fandom than 'Sans,' and 'Papyrus.' You want to get to the bottom of this, but you're pretty sure those character names won't get you any closer to an answer with how common they are to describe non-Undertale related things.

It's somehow not a surprise to you when search trends show that exactly zero people are looking for the answers you are.

Okay, so that kicks the possibility of finding anyone else who remembers Undertale.

You check search trends for 'alternate reality,' 'alternate universe,' and 'alternate dimension,' and you also open up a separate tab to the Wikipedia article for 'Isekai.'

It seems like there's definitely a good amount of search queries related to each term, but upon further inspection, they're mostly about isekai anime and tv shows like Dr Who.

Not really all that helpful, but maybe when you're not dealing with the real-world issues of dimensional travel you can take a break and watch the ones that seem interesting.

You bookmark a few articles that seem to be about actual science and not sci-fi media, but besides scientific papers and articles misquoting those same scientific papers, you've hit a dead end. You turn your attention towards finding discussion posts or forums on the topic —Maybe something on Reddit?

…..

Okay, nope.

You're not going to have much luck bringing in other people to help you with this unless you're looking to end up institutionalized. Not that there's any shame in that, but you don't think it'd help you much in this particular situation.

Man, you are really hoping for your Isekai theory to ring true. Otherwise, you're SOL with no way of finding out what's going on here. You feel like that guy who had to rewrite all the Beatles songs from memory in that one movie. What was it called? Yesterday?

Not that you think you could reproduce any of the content you remember about Undertale.

No, you definitely couldn't, especially not the game itself. You aren't a one-man game dev team, and the idea of trying to profit off someone else's ideas like that makes you feel slimy. Even if you're in an alternate dimension or if your brain actually came up with everything and created false memories, you couldn't bring yourself to claim what you feel is someone else's intellectual property. You'll just have to quietly remember on your own and create fan-content privately from now on. That thought makes you feel kind of alone…

You push that down and bottle it up for future you to deal with. Right now you need to determine how and why this happened through some gentle research. No need to end up on any government watchlists.

#I wrote this for me but you can read it too #no beta we disappear like W.D. Gaster #skeleton harem I guess #I sent you to another universe where I'll be isolating youand making you think you're clinically insane #so you can have a bunch of skeleton boyfriends. as a treat #Gaster is kind of everybody's dad here ig #absent father? more like a-void-ant father lol #jk thoughbecause Gaster is actually great in this :) #mahalangel og #undertale #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #undertale fanfiction #sans x reader #reader insert #gelatin skeleton #gelatin skeletons in the fridge

[calmthefuckdownalright]

I Think I'm Alive For You

@heartofwritiingiing reblogged my fiction I Think I Died for You and added this amazing tag...and well...this happened yeah.

NOTICE: This is going to take place in an alternate universe where Karl and Sapnap never left Quackity (for plot reasons just read)

(Also those who have requested things I am working on them I promise)

><><><><><><><><><>

"This is L'manberg. Or what's left of it." The man's voice was airy and faint. Rain drizzled down around you and he helped you to your feet.

His hand was warm and it made your blood spark in excitement. You'd been cold for so long...

"You said your name was Y/N?" The stranger kept your hand in his but you hardly minded. You met red eyes with curiosity like a flame dancing in the pools.

"What's yours?" You asked skeptically. There was a white streak in his hair...odd.

"Wilbur. Wilbur Soot." Wilbur said and you let a small smile twitch on your lips.

"Well it's nice to meet you." You said stiffly and smoothed out the thin clothes you wore. Nothing more than a plain green shirt and a blue jacket with some trousers to hide your body from the elements. It reminded you of something of a zombie, though you hardly remembered the things.

"Would you like to see the place?" Wilbur smiled at you and something flickered in his crimson eyes. Something welcoming and vague.

"Yes, yes i suppose i would." You nodded and Wilbur offered his arm. The warmth sparked your blood again and tingled throughout your body like a lightning bolt.

~~~~

Wilbur was interesting...he was a steady hand on your back as you explored the many improved technologies that had emerged in your time 'away' as he had begun to call it.

Things felt better around him, like figuring out how long you'd been gone and how you got where you were didn't matter. At least, that's what Wilbur had told you he planned to make you feel like. So far he succeeded.

"I'll never miss another sunset again." Wilbur sighed and rubbed a half gloved finger over your hand softly. You smiled and rested against his shoulder with you back. In your free hand you twirled a flower, it was dying and the dark blue of its petals reminded you of something. Someone. A memory that seemed so happy you wanted to remember it.

"Hey Wil." You said softly.

"What is it darling?" He asked airily and you could tell he had his eyes closed. A breeze passed by.

"How did you die?"

Wilbur was quiet and his hand ceased to rub against yours. The air felt dangerous and explosive. The faint smell of gunpowder wafted from Wilbur on the quiet breeze and blew off a single petal from your dying blue flower.

"I..." Wilbur stammered and your curiosity grew. Did he remember? Did he not know like you? Was it all fuzzy and blank?

"My father stabbed me. I asked him to." Wilbur didn't look at you and a distant hand came and rubbed his chest.

"Oh..." You were grim in your words and thought it better to just stay quiet.

"Do you know how you died darling?" Wilbur asked and you shook your head. He pulled you close to him, resting your head on his shoulder and his arm around you.

"I don't even remember being alive." You scoffed and curled close to Wilbur.

"Maybe it doesn't matter then." Wilbur shrugged and your brain glitched.

"Your life doesn't matter to me anymore Y/N of-"

Someone had said that to you then it went blank. Then you died.

"I think I was important to someone, and they killed me." Your brow furrowed.

"You shouldn't worry about it, you've got me now." Wilbur kissed your head and lingered there with his nose buried in your hair.

"Yeah..."

~~~~

You tried not to question anything that happened from then on. Wilbur hadn't seemed too happy about you figuring it out and something wrong twisted in your gut about that.

"I don't know what's gotten into him." You sighed and caressed the face of the blue sheep. Tommy had said it was important to someone you knew and they would've liked you to have him.

Of course this had been rather odd but the animal was quite cute, so you supposed you could take care of it for now. It had a collar and on a tag in scrawled writing was 'Friend.'

"He's gone back to Las Nevadas and told me to stay home. Wonder why." You played with the bright blue wool and earned a satisfied baa from the livestock.

"I think he likes you."

There was a face, blank and compassionate. It was familiar and something cold but longing flickered in your chest.

Friend let out an indignant baa and you resumed petting him absent minded.

"Let's go find Wilbur." You decided and hooked the leash onto the sheep's collar, leading him to the desert city of Las Nevadas.

The clouds blocked the sun over the desert and you remembered Wilbur saying something about Quackity being a liar and basically moving every scrap of sand he could to create his capitalist paradise.

"I bet you'd be real hot in that wool if it wasn’t cloudy." You smiled at Friend and tugged the sheep along. Despite what Wilbur had told you about the palace of lies Q had built in his artificial desert, you were awestruck at the infrastructure nonetheless.

"Excuse me, who are you?"

You looked over your shoulder slowly as you stared at a tower of quartz and what looked like a needle at the top. No fear ran in your blood, Wilbur had said that was partially because of how long you'd been away.

"Erm, Y/N." you narrowed your eyes at the creature. A being of green goo with glasses covered in slime and a meshed version of suspenders and a shirt. A rather haggard appearance all together really.

"Where are you from?" The blobby man asked with a dorky smile.

"I-" your brow furrowed. Where were you from?

"This is L'manburg, or what's left of it."

"L'manburg. What's left of it anyways." You said.

"Well Y/N of What's left of L'manburg, Please state your business." The slime stood straight for such an unstable appearance and you cringed. Something fearful sparked in your chest at the familiar way they talked.

"You life doesn't matter to me anymore Y/N of-"

"I'm here for Wil-" You shook away the cold, dying memeory and just about as you got half his name out.

"Y/N? What're you doing here? What's with the sheep?" Wilbur's voice came from behind the slime man and the gooey greeter was quick to vanish away in a gloop of green into the sandy ground.

"I came looking for you. Tommy gave him to me, his name's Friend apparently." You shrugged. Something passed over Wilbur's face as he looked at the sheep before he snapped back to you.

"You really need to go." He let a sly smile split his lips but the smoothness of his words did little to quell the suspicion rising in your gut.

"and why's that?" You crossed your arms, the lead attached to your wrist swinging as Friend sniffed and baaed at the ground.

"Because darling-" Wilbur's words fell short as a new voice cut through the air.

"Y/N?" This voice belonged to a man in a colorful hoodie with a swirl in the middle and shaggy brown hair with a set of oddly colored goggles sitting on top his head.

"What-?" Fog swirled in your head and Wilbur stepped back to your side, his arm wrapping around your waist comfortingly.

"Karl?" You recognized the face now. The loose freckles and curious eyes. Wilbur's hand vanished from your side and you ran into Karl's arms.

"Oh my gosh, where did you go?" His familiar embrace warmed your soul and ignited a smile on your face.

"I-I died!" You pulled away from him and took in his features. The eye bags were new and the love worn wrinkles from ages of laughing and smiling looked good on him.

"You what?" his smile dropped. "What do you mean you died?" His eyes flicked up to your hair where a white streak ran through the locks, matching with Wilbur's.

"I don't remember anything from before or during. Oh gosh Karl, it was just cold and empty. Wilbur's helped a ton." You turned from the single person you could remember and turned to the man who had saved you. He was scowling slightly and had his arms crossed, a cigarette burning on the side of his mouth.

"My little sister got help from the he-devil himself?" Karl quirked a brow and looked at you disbelieving.

"It was meant to be a surprise. If you'd stayed in town like I asked things would've gone right." Wilbur growled a little.

"What're you talking about Wil. Nothing of yours has ever gone right." A man with black hair and white attire came from behind Karl along with a smaller man whose voice had risen. The smaller man was clad in a very...capitalist set of suspenders and a long scar ran down the side of his face and over his eye.

"Hush up Big Q. It was your idea for me to do it in Las Nevadas." Wilbur dabbed his cigarette ash into the sand, crushing an ember with the heel of his boot.

"Hold on," You stepped away from Karl and back to Wilbur's side. "If you're Quackity, and this is Karl." You turned to the last man with dark hair. "Who the fuck are you?" You asked and Friend baaed in agreement.

"Sapnap at your service. For being married to the guy, Karl never mentioned a sister." Sapnap leaned on Karl heavily and your brother's face turned a bright blooming red.

"Married?" Your mouth twitched and Quackity came towards you with an outstretched hand.

"The three of us are in a polyamorous marriage. That makes us family." Quackity smiled charmingly and you grimaced a little. This man did not fit Wilbur's colorful description. It didn't fit.

"Back up Q before you get a matching scar." Wilbur pulled you back by the shoulder.

"Watch your words Wilbur." Sapnap narrowed his eyes daringly and a small flicker of fire glowed on his knuckles with smoke rising from his skin.

"Okay, before a fight breaks out!" You turned to Wilbur. "Mind explaining the 'surprise' I somehow ruined?"

Wilbur sighed and flicked his cigarette away, crushing it under his heel with a flicker of a smirk as the ash and ember died away.

"I was gonna bring you here tonight and introduce you to Karl. I've been trying to find traces of you from your first life experience and I talked to Phil and he said Karl would be the one to know anything. Turns out your family and so I was gonna ask him if I could...." Wilbur's words trailed off into a muttering whisper and he turned away with an arm rubbing his neck.

"Didn't catch that last bit." You cleared your throat and Wilbur's face turned a bright red to match the shades that hung on his shirt collar.

"I was going to-" Wilbur was slow and sheepish. Friend baaed indignantly.

"He was gonna propose to ya if Karl would bless it since you ain't got a parental figure that we know of." Quackity shouted over him and Wilbur brought a stick of dynamite from his pocket.

"WOAH THERE LOVER BOY!" Sapnap stood in front of Karl and Quackity with sparks and flames coming from his fists.

"You were gonna propose?" You looked to Wilbur with a speechless face and his snarling face to Quackity vanished almost immedietly as he turned to you.

"Y-yeah." Wilbur shrugged and put the dynamite away.

"Wilbur!" You darted into his arms and buried yourself in his chest. "Yes." You said excitedly.

"I haven't even asked you yet!" Wilbur chuckled.

"Well hurry the hell up!" You said fiercely and Wilbur let out a booming laugh like an explosion.

Fuck the past, this man was going to be your future.

~~BONUS~~

Charlie stared from the back. You walked to Wilbur of Pogtopia and married him like it was so easy. It confused him, how forgetful humans were. The memory of your cold corpse in his hands was fresh in his mind.

The dull memory of your smile next to his and the guiding lessons of how to love and protect and simply had faded away with the life in your eyes. You hadn't taught him that just because you had taught him everything you knew didn't mean you weren't useful.

Things without use are pointless.

Things without use are not worth having anymore. So he killed you, your purpose fullfilled to him and your ghost never crossed paths with him. Now you could teach Wilbur to love maybe. Or maybe Wilbur will teach you.

"Congratulations Y/N of Dream SMP. Welcome back." He smiled and slimed away, back to the dark.

#dream smp au #dsmp c!wilbur #dsmp au #dsmp #dream smp #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot #c!slimecicle #c!wilbur #c!karlnapity #las nevadas #l'manburg

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/20973036/william-lunged-harry-philip-funeral/

"'STEAMING & SHOUTING' William lunged at brother after Philip’s funeral and used secret code phrase about Diana, claims Harry"

PRINCE William twice lunged at brother Harry in a physical bust-up in front of dad Charles just after Prince Philip’s funeral.

Harry says in his new book Spare that a “steaming” and “shouting” ­William “grabbed my shirt” as the three of them held peace talks in the gardens of Frogmore Cottage in April 2021. ...

William told Harry: “I just want you to be happy” when they clashed at attempted peace talks.

But Harry, writing in new book Spare, claims: “My voice broke as I told him softly, ‘I really don’t think you do’.”

The younger prince also claims William invoked their rarely-used secret code, “I swear on Mummy’s life” — as tempers flared after Philip’s funeral last April 17.

Harry claims the pair and their dad Charles went on a half-hour stroll, arriving at a gothic ruin near Frogmore Cottage in Windsor.

They discussed his Oprah Winfrey interview from weeks earlier.

Harry claims he tried to reason with his brother and father, and wanted to discuss bullying allegations against wife Meghan.

But they weren’t listening, he said, and he was turning away to say goodbye.

He says William, who was “really steaming", shouted at him: “You never came to us. You never came to me.”

Harry expressed his feelings over their Megxit agreement being “violated” when William shouted he should “take it up with Granny”.

Harry wrote: "I waved a hand, disgusted, but he lunged, grabbed my shirt. ‘Listen to me, Harold’.

“I pulled away, refused to meet his gaze. He forced me to look into his eyes. Listen to me, Harold, listen! I love you, Harold! I want you to be happy."

Harry claims he fired back with "I love you too…but your stubbornness is extraordinary!"

He pulled out of William’s grasp but claims his brother grabbed him again and twisted him to maintain eye contact.

He says in the book: “Harold, you must listen to me! I just want you to be happy, Harold. I swear I swear on Mummy’s life.

“He stopped. I stopped. Pa stopped. He’d gone there.

“He’d used the secret code, the universal password. Ever since we were boys those three words were to be used only in times of extreme crisis.”

Harry, who while describing this encounter called Wills his “arch-nemesis” and pointed out his “alarming baldness”, said he was ready at that point to fly back to the US to be with Meghan.

He wrote: “Willy wasn’t quite ready to accept defeat.. ‘I’ve felt properly sick and ill after everything that’s happened and, and I swear to you now on Mummy’s life that I just want you to be happy’.

Harry added: “My voice broke as I told him softly: I really don’t think you do.”

The Sun on Sunday understands that William did hug his brother and told him “I love you”.

But neither William nor Charles have spoken about rows or behind the scenes at Philip’s funeral at St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle.

Harry also claims he’s always felt he had to go on bended knee to William when asking for his help.

But he does recall happy memories of growing up with William and them blasting partridges on a shoot in Spain.

Harry added: “But now I saw that even our finest moments, and my best memories, somehow involved death.

_____________________________________________________________

This reads like a bad fan fiction. Wow.

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

You know in history during in a specific time period and even today where people will either heavily romanticize or demonize a prominent figure in history to fit into their narrative? usually in the way of demonizing they were given cruel nicknames like Mary i of England was named ‘Bloody Mary’ and Elizabeth Bathory was called the ‘Blood Countess’ or even in fiction when Jaime Lannister is dubbed the ‘Kingslayer’ despite saving millions of lives by killing the mad king. This is done often to the point that the person’s real name and role in history is forgotten or ignored and is only remembered by the insulting names forced on them.

I can totally see this with the Horsemen’s human, either after the false apocalypse when rebuilding Earth and even a good hundred years afterwards when they’re gone and their identity and role in history scrutinized or cherry picked by demonizing or romanizing them.

How would the Horsemen react to their friend’s (whether their still alive and just living their life or long gone) story being romanized or given a cruel and demeaning nickname?

Ooooooo, a great concept and possibility to consider, especially if those were the humans that were ressurected from Death. Having no direct experience of what it is like surviving the apocalypse, nor an understanding of heaven or hell, guaranteed hearing about a fellow human that has lived through and helped the horsemen is object to scrutiny. Directly after the end war if said human is still alive and helping pick up the pieces, at first some humans will be grateful and some a mixture of doubt. Some may feel that said human prioritizes otherworldly beings over humanity, to which these doubts could be dashed if the human went about it the right way and addressed everything that happened. Honesty plays an important role in building a trust, but more so action is what shows the intention, because like it or not, one of the only humans to live through the war and help the horsemen comes with attention and judgement.

What also can influence the reputation left behind is building a rapport with the humans that are more open to the horsemen and to hearing about the truth, those that have hope in a future, and understand things in the universe are not black/white. With that there will be those that have lost everything, and are not so welcoming to the beings that took part in the destruction of Earth. Those that will find fault in every part of the explanation, reasons to doubt and be defensive. The next step if that human wishes to move on is to accept that everyone won't want the truth, that to keep going forward despite that is part of being the human that aided. If the horsemen also follow the same tactic it could be favorable in the long run, and will 100% help in those efforts.

As for if the human were to pass, if the previous steps were followed they would more likely be romanticized then demonized. The horsemen would have a mixture of reactions, Strife finding it hilarious and Fury laughing at the incredulous stories humans made up about their friend. "The savior of Humanity" they would be called, and honestly while it is not entirely true, the horsemen would leave it be as they can live knowing how they were truly like. The result would be similar for the opposing result....but with conflicting ways it was dealt with.

In the beginning the story was more accurate, but with the human passing, over time those that did not like the horsemen twisted the story, and with every generation a new version would be rumored about, fading from truth, to myth to legend. The horsemen would be above the dealings of man at this point since their friend was the main reason they stuck around Earth....but they wouldn't exactly be pleased with the slander towards their memory. Strife would be a little bitter, and a little devastated at how his friend was remembered. He knows of course that humans are fickle and simple minded for some, so he doesn't exactly hate all of them for it...but he is bothered by it and more likely to voice it. If a human were to ask about it, he would wistfully mention how he knew them. Not as the stories now stated, but as the human he had come to call friend. Cue funny and happy stories of the time he spent with his friend.

Similar with Fury, but she is way more bitter. She is quick to demean just how ignorant some humans were, and if any human were stupid enough to say it in her vicinity they will receive a harsh tongue lashing laced with threats. No being in her eyes has any right to demonize the only human she had come to respect, one that she would never admit, but missed their weird human humor and spunk. She is upset that the humans she helped spawned these new ones that refused to tell truthfully, and she is frustrated.

War and Death are a different story. They are the more likely of the two to understand what that is like. War's whole journey being framed and demonized for the end war knew what it was like to be scrutinized, so he would understand the ignorance of the newer humans, but he is angry that they would do so upon the memory of his friend. To slander their story and lie so blantantly when they are not around to defend their name, he finds it dishonorable. Definitely do not recommend being that stupid human that insults them in his presence....he will take action.

Death has been through this, and knows it all too well. The stories told about him are worse, kinslayer, executioner, and traitor is associated with him many times, he is used to it. He accepts that as his burden to carry....but for the human that was nothing like the monster he felt himself to be, it was wrong. He is mournful hearing the human being referred to as the "Betrayer of Humanity.". Angry is an understatement, but it is masked with a sadness. For a moment he wonders if it was truly worth bringing humans back. Mind you he did it for War and balance, but for them to take for granted his sacrifice and stomp on the truth left him feeling distasteful. But he knows the human friend would not have wanted that, so he doesn't take any action or effort to convince them otherwise. If they wish to live in ignorance so be it, but at least he and his brothers know the truth.

Thank you for the ask!!

#darksiders #darksiders oc #darksiders nephilim #darksiders original character #nephilim #darksiders ocs #darksiders war #darksiders death #darksiders strife #darksiders fury #fury #darksiders ask #reader #darksiders horsemen #darksiders asks #asks #ask #strife #death #war

[fireinmywoods]

I’ve been reading Kirk/McCoy on and off for like 10 years now, and you - through your fic and this here blog - are like single handedly responsible for dragging me back into it this time around. I wondered about any head canons you had around Leonard’s childhood and teenage years. We at least get a glimpse of young Kirk and young Spock in the movies, but nothing for McCoy, and I’m very curious about your take.

Oh, I have plenty of thoughts around Leonard's youth, though I'm afraid it's hard to recall what's already made it into posted works and what's still buried in WIP drafts, so forgive me if I get a little slip-slidey. Some of this is semi-canonical, some I've just made up for Reasons, but I think it's all plausible enough!

1. Leonard grew up as the only son of a prominent family in the (fictional) small town of Marysville, GA.

Extended universe canon has it that his paternal grandfather was Chief of Medicine at Emory in Atlanta, which I think we can reasonably assume is still the top hospital in Georgia as of the 23rd century. And of course his father was a doctor as well. So he comes from a solid line of highly educated and successful professionals.

Leonard is semi-canonically from Atlanta himself, but I've gone ahead and rejected that, because no fucking way was that folksy-ass motherfucker (who is after all "just an old country doctor") born and raised in Atlanta proper. (Though it is also extremely funny to me to imagine him as some city asshole cosplaying as a hayseed for some mysterious reason, knowing damn well that no one else on the Enterprise knows enough about Georgia to catch him out.)

To reconcile this, I've decided that his mother's family was originally from [vague hand wave] some ways outside Savannah and that Eleanora didn't much care for city living, so after getting married, she and David moved to Marysville, where they were initially viewed with some suspicion as outsiders (and high-and-mighty city slickers, at that) but in time came to be accepted and respected as pillars of the community.

2. He was the only grandchild on his maternal side and spoiled rotten by his granny and granddaddy.

The family alternated holidays between David's parents in Atlanta and Eleanora's parents near Savannah, and while Leonard loved both sets of grandparents, he preferred being at his granddaddy and granny's place and often accompanied his mama on extended summer visits. The McCoys were kind but a bit more serious and reserved, with a beautiful home filled with lots of things little boys weren't allowed to touch. Much more fun to run around orchards sticking worms in his pockets and getting into mild mischief. It didn't hurt that Granny was a superb baker (and also known for her eggnog, as noted in pentimento).

Fun fact: it's his granny and granddaddy's home outside Savannah (which tends to get a lot of there-and-gone afternoon thunderstorms in the summer) where his childhood memories take place in sforzando.

3. He was a mama's boy.

He looked a lot more like his father and of course went on to follow in David's footsteps as a doctor, but personality-wise, he's much more like his mother, who shared a similar blend of fussing over her brood and low tolerance for bullshit.

4. He was raised up right. Theoretically.

Look, an attempt was made, okay? Someone - many someones - for sure gave that boy all the right home training. He's from two long lines of born and bred Georgians, and there is absolutely no way he wasn't rigorously trained in appropriate manners, decorum, and housekeeping. He even did cotillion classes, remember! (Jim definitely remembers. Jim will never, ever forget, nor let slip an opportunity to bring it up.)

So his elders tried. And as noted in pentimento, his parents did their best to work with him on his temper when he hit his teen years and started blossoming into the mouthy hothead we know and love. It's not his their fault he grew up into such an irascible old cuss who's apparently determined that the genteel passive aggression he grew up steeped in must sometimes be supplemented with full-on aggressive aggression.

I guess what I'm saying is, you can't blame his raising for why he's so Like That. That's sheer force of personality, baby. (I mean, aside from the part where he enjoys swanning in to inquire about his frenemy's troubles and drop a "helpful" and vaguely insulting pearl of wisdom before swanning back off to gossip about it with his bestie. That there's a Southern specialty.)

5. He was fairly popular growing up.

I recognize I may encounter some skepticism on this point, given the, uh, everything about the grown-up Leonard we know and love, but let's look at the facts.

He was from a good family, which goes pretty far in a town like Marysville.

He's exceptionally smart and hard-working as an adult, and given where he ended up career-wise, one can imagine he must have done well in school. I've even gone so far as to decide he skipped a couple grades at some point, though admittedly that was partly an effort to make sense of his timeline so that he could be a fully trained doctor by the time we meet him on the shuttle at 28.

So anyway, he was smart and a good student - but as Jim intuited in pas de deux, it wasn't the sort of disquieting freaky-smart that made baby Jimmy something of an outcast in his own small town. Leonard's was a more...palatable intelligence, let's say. And it helped that he was also a jock.

Yeah, you heard me. The extended universe indicates that baby Leonard dreamed of being a pro basketball player, and as an adult he is in suspiciously good shape for a man of science, so I went ahead and had him play basketball in middle and high school until a knee injury took him off the court for good.

So in summary: smart, good family, an athlete, well-mannered, and looks like young Karl Urban? Yeah, I'm pretty sure my guy did just fine among his peers, introversion/short fuse/social awkwardness be damned.

In fact, I'm looking forward to introducing you to some of those peers in the high school reunion fic! Assuming I can manage to finish it before the heat death of the universe!

That's all I've got off the top of my head. I'd love to hear anyone else's ideas too!!

#also ANON you are so sweet!!! i can't tell you what an amazingly rewarding thing that is to hear 💙💛 #ask #anon #fic related #mccoy #star trek #aos

[scrybe-scott]

WIP intro time!

Are you so certain of the difference, Mr. Lake? Between dark and the light? The Black and the Bright? You’d best learn fast, for those who gaze too long into the Black may soon find themselves unable to stomach the Bright.

GENRE: Eldritch Noir (detective novel with a touch of cosmic horror!)

AUDIENCE: Adults, I guess? Solid R rating, probably, but it won’t get too bad I don’t think

STATUS: Drafting!

COMPARISONS AND INSPIRATIONS: Alan Wake-esque blurring of reality with all the noir drama of things like The 39 Steps, Marlowe, The Maltese Falcon, etc.

THEMES: The nature of humanity and its place in the universe, humanity vs inhumanity, hope and love in the gaze of the abyss

AESTHETIC: Rain pounding a foggy window, mist and fog obscuring a streetlamp, the clack of shoes in an empty alley, a cigarette being lit in the dark, the buzz of the harsh lights of a diner, thick black smoke swallowing the world around it, the clatter of a metro train overhead, an empty flask, coffee-stained papers haphazardly strewn on a desk

PLAYLIST (in progress!): dark, moody, atmospheric, melancholic, a LOT of jazz.

SYNOPSIS:

Three years after the worst day of his life, Adam Lake is doing better. After all, he’s got a paying (if unstable) job as a private investigator for his best friend, Defense Attorney Cole Parker. Hell, he’s even managed to drink away the memory of Elise Conway, the girl that shattered his heart along with his dreams of becoming an archaeologist. Things are calm. Things are… good.

Enter Evelyn Montclaire, ex-actress and model, current movie producer, and dangerously charming client. Something’s off on her new set, and she wants Adam to find a book that’s gone missing from her office. He’s inclined to say no, but it turns out Cole talked to a young assistant on that very production who’s being accused of murder! Can Adam navigate silver screen politics and the wicked world of the fabulously wealthy? If he wants any chance at making rent, he’ll have to.

CHARACTERS:

Adam Lake: The detective. Ex-archaeology student and police department washout (insubordination, of course), Adam was picked up by Cole Parker as a private investigator for his new solo law venture. Hates corruption, hates rich people. Simple as.

Cole Parker: The lawyer. Cole is a defense attorney whose father was imprisoned and executed for a crime he didn’t commit. Shares and respects Adam’s contempt for the corrupt police force of Strand City. Loves jazz music and poetry.

Elise Conway: The scholar. An ex-classmate and ex-lover of Adam, Elise has been called upon by Evelyn Montclaire to help her study and decipher a strange book that has come into her possession. Jumped at the chance. Loves history, language, and men with their shit together.

Judy Love: The starlet. Found dead in her dressing room at Panessa Studios under incredibly mysterious circumstances. Filming for her new movie, Concrete Midnights, has been halted.

Evelyn Montclaire: The producer. A lot of history in the movies, currently trying to revive Strand City’s dying film industry. Cold, calculating, and deadly charming.

Annie Hartwell: The assistant. Accused of jealous murder, Annie is desperately seeking the help of Cole. She seems like a scared newcomer to the city, but is it just an act?

Cliff Calloway: The co-star. An older man doing his last movie as a favor to Evelyn. Used to be a huge name in the movies, has been aging out of the leading roles that won him his fame.

Ethan Bennett: Adam’s old partner on the force. Cares a lot about Adam, but firmly believes he can change the system from the inside. Still, has been known to slip Adam classified info as a favor, though it takes some convincing.

Disclaimer!!!!!

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering about the setting of this book. Concrete Midnights takes place in a fictionalized city in the American Pacific Northwest during the 1930s. I feel like I should take the opportunity to mention this book takes place in an alternative history, and will do its absolute best to steer away from the topics of racism and sexism! Nobody wants to deal with that stuff, least of all me, a white man! That’s gross!

As always, thanks for reading, and I’ll see you around!

#callahanscorner #concrete midnights #my wip #wip intro #my writing #writeblr #writblr #creative writing #crime novel #crime noir #eldritch horror