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#that reveal changed my brain chemistry
brennan-lee-mother · 22 days
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[our friends] are not pull string dolls for our amusement,” Rekha said, standing on an apple box she had been manoeuvred onto like a pull string doll for Jess’ amusement
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laughing-gunslinger · 4 months
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“This is my story.”
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mrghostrat · 3 months
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Not sure if someone asked this but what are your favorite fics? You’re probably my favorite fanfic author at the moment and I need some recommendations!
fuck yes rec time!! it's been a while since i recced my favourites. i'll try to avoid reccing the same classic fandom fics that everyone else does, so hopefully you'll find something new!
but as always, we start with First Class (Hons) by heloluv because i can't believe this fic doesn't have 100k+
The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 human au, horticulturalist!crowley wooing priest!aziraphale to try and get a rose cutting from the church garden
because thinking makes it so by NaroMoreau, summerofspock human au, "straight" and divorced aziraphale is a new employee in crowley's office where crowley is an IT guy. they start as friends with benefits
Soho by Lurlur human au, aziraphale runs a bookshop and crowley is a rockstar that wanders on in
Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous actor who stars in a music video for crowley and anathema's rock band
The Bizarre Demons of AZ Fell & Co Antique Booksellers by WorseOmens good omens x buzzfeed unsolved crossover that makes me laugh every time
Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo human au, crowley watches aziraphale eat ice cream on a bench every day at lunch, and devises a plan to go sit with him one day. another laugh out loud
First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous author who bumps into childhood friend/crush crowley at a book signing.
(sobs omg im sorry for so much feraltuxedo i can't get enough of their fics)
Celestial Bodies by Justkeeptrekkin canon compliant, getting together, beautiful beautiful prose of nonhuman intimacy
To reveal my heart in ink by chaoticlivi canon compliant, aziraphale starts handwriting crowley letters just because he misses the format. it becomes easier to spill certain feelings on the page and their letters get very saucy n intimate.
Talk about the weather by nightbloomingcereus human au, aziraphale is a weather man meteorologist and crowley is a storm chaser.
If A Man... by Tartan_Temptation human au, crowley has some Alone Time on his balcony in the middle of the night, but someone sees him. so what if i read this every night for a week straight????? don't look at me.
it's probably not worth reccing since it's been removed from ao3 and only accessible after a five round brawl with the waybackmachine in an arby's parking lot, but i have to mention litany in which certain things are crossed out by Ayes/sayesayes changed my brain chemistry and GOD i wish it was still up...........
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mechaknight-98 · 1 month
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Instinctive insight (NSFW) FT Chaehyun
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Authors note: I am unsure of a preface so here goes. Chaehyun buys a zoo where the narrator (you) work and hijnks ensue
PartII
Sexual chemistry is a weird thing. First, you're minding your business as a zookeeper when the new owner comes in and next thing you know you have her folded like a pretzel calling you daddy as she takes a hot load into her pussy then the next thing you know you're helping said new boss run the zoo better like the two of you didn't just fuck each other brains out. Oh shit… I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning
As I worked on next week’s schedule at the zoo, my coworker and friend, Zahir, strolled in with an air of excitement.
“Hey, Dino. Heard about the new boss?” he asked, brimming with curiosity.
“Yeah, I heard she's the new owner, taking over from Old McDonald,” I replied, my tone neutral.
“E I E I Oh,” Zahir quipped, a familiar inside joke that never failed to elicit a chuckle.
Curiosity piqued, I inquired, “What's the new boss like?”
“She's a Korean girl, a former idol,” Zahir revealed.
“Really? That's unexpected,” I remarked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
“Yeah, quite the change. She's due to arrive in an hour or two. You're probably the best bet to understand her. Could you stay to interpret?” Zahir requested, his eyes hopeful.
“Hmm, I'm not sure. I was planning to spend time with Tony today. Haven't had the chance since the promotion,” I explained, feeling torn.
“Fair enough. But what about Alucard?” Zahir countered.
“Alucard's always my priority at the start of each shift, given his popularity,” I assured him.
“True, he's practically your trademark here. By the way, did you get taller?” Zahir teased, noticing a change.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” I replied cryptically, leaving the question unanswered.
After successfully arranging for Zahir to cover Marie’s shift next Thursday, I completed the schedule. With that task done, I made my way to Tony’s enclosure, treading cautiously as always.
“Hey buddy, sorry I haven't been around. How are you?” I greeted him, though his silence conveyed more than words ever could.
His gaze, concealed beneath armored scales, seemed to communicate, “You always make sure to take care of Alucard.”
“Well, he may be popular, but I'm here now, aren't I?” I replied, preparing his food.
His head tilted inquisitively, silently questioning my sincerity.
“Yeah, really,” I affirmed.
Now, you might be wondering why I'm conversing with a Magnamalo. It all goes back to my early days at Old McDonald's Zoo. Each hire was entrusted with caring for an egg and a baby animal. I was given Tony, and over the years, we formed an unbreakable bond.
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Currently, Tony is undergoing his transformation into a scorned Magnamalo in preparation for finding a mate. This meant heightened aggression and physical changes.
After spending a couple of hours with Tony, I sat on a nearby rock, feeling a sense of tranquility despite his imposing presence. As I finished up and secured the enclosure, a voice startled me.
“So, you're the illustrious Dinovaldo,” the voice said, catching me off guard. I turned to find a young Korean woman standing before me, likely the new boss. Surprisingly young, perhaps even younger than me, she exuded confidence beyond her years. Her round face framed by soft brown eyes and shoulder-length hair added to her allure.
Normally, I'm a sucker for a pretty face, but inexplicably, a surge of unfamiliar emotions washed over me, leading me to behave rudely. “I didn't expect you to be dressed so... casually,” I retorted, though her attire was perfectly appropriate.
She smirked, seemingly relishing the tension, and took a step closer. “For someone known for thoughtfulness and consideration, you're quite the jerk,” she remarked, her voice tinged with amusement.
I matched her proximity, a malicious smile playing on my lips as I felt a strange tension building between us. “Maybe if you weren't such an eyesore, it wouldn't be an issue,” I snapped, though secretly acknowledging her undeniable attractiveness.
“Well, what are you going to do about it, Daddy?” she challenged, our closeness heightening the tension until we both yielded to other, more primal feelings, breaking the touch barrier simultaneously. We found each other in a fiery kiss that consumed us both. My hands found themselves wrapped around her midriff and as my fingers sank into her soft flesh she moaned into the kiss. We broke it and all of the animosity we shared mutated into a virulent lust and desire. Wordlessly we go to a nearby employee shack used for helping the animals give birth and continue pursuing our bodies’ desires. I kiss her again and she melts into the kiss. I run my hands through her hair. The softness of her midriff pushes me to continue my exploration of her body. I slid my arms down to her ass, I grab her right leg and lift it as she wraps it around my waist
“How forward. I love it Daddy!” the woman says. I smile at her. Her eyes scream encouragement for me to continue so I do. I unbuckle my pants and pull my erect dick out.
“You are so soft I'm going to call you Marshmallow,” I say as I fiddle with her skirt before moving her panties to the side and plunging my sex into hers.
“Oh god yes Daddy,” Marshmallow says Euphoric. I was going to move until she said.
“No, give me a second to adjust,” Marshmallow says panting. While waiting I go back into kissing her which Marshmallow greedily accepts. She smells like a wildfire and it drives me wild. When the need for oxygen overrides our need to breed we break the kiss again. “Okay go,” Marshmallow says and I take off. I begin to pull out but her vagina sucks me in further. It's perfectly accommodating and welcoming. As barely get halfway out Marshmallow screams
“Ram it back in Daddy!” being the good daddy I was. I give her what she wants. She moans as her pussy sucks me in almost vacuum tight. Her nails dig into my neck as I thrust and a puddle of our combined juices lay beneath us as we continue. I look into her eyes and we see each other in a new light.
I cup her sizable bust as I whisper into her ear, “Do you want to cum?” Marshmallow nods
“Are you close?” I ask and am answered with another nod. I pick up the pace and begin to play with her clit. Marshmallow moans I feel her other leg wrap around me I smile into another kiss as the heat between us intensifies.
“Does daddy like my pussy?” Marshmallow said as her voice hitched
“Yes, I love the way it sucks me in as it never wants me to leave,” I say to a euphoric Marshmallow
“Well, it's true I don't want you to leave my pussy. I could duck this perfect cock all day and night.” Marshmallow moaned.
“God you're so hot,” I say to her breathless. “This soft body is perfect,” I say.
Marshmallow’s walls tighten and I realize she likes the body appreciation. So I try something to push her over the edge. I continue my thrusts in and out of Marshmallow as I begin praising her body like crazy.
“I love this tummy it's so soft and pillow. I just want to hug you and keep you close forever. These tits divine the perfect size to grope and squeeze.” I moan into her ear. I hear Marshmallow scream before she reaches her release. Her pussy becomes unbearable tight and forces mine
“Cum with me. Cum in me.” Marshmallow moans. Her words send me fully over the edge and I fall into the abyss with her. I shoot string after string of hot semen into her fertile pussy and she seemingly milks me for more and more as her orgasm intensifies. As our gazes lock, a strange sensation envelops me, stirring within like a tempest. We hold each other's stare, the air crackling with an inexplicable intensity. A wave of possessiveness washes over me, consuming my senses, and I can sense the same emotion reflected in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment. We are bonded and no one else would satisfy us.
After our copulation, We stand there, our intense gaze softened by the passage of time, yet the undercurrent of possessiveness only seems to strengthen. Eventually, we settle into new seats, and Marshmallow finds her way onto my lap.
“So, Marshmallow, huh?” she remarks playfully.
“Yeah, what about it?” I respond with equal playfulness.
“I like it, but my name is Chaehyun,” she reveals.
“Noted. I'll make an effort to use your real name in public,” I promise.
“Why hide your affection behind a nickname?” she teases.
“Not ashamed, just protecting our little secret,” I assure her, my fingers gently tracing through her hair.
“It's too late for secrecy now, Daddy,” she teases back.
“So, does this mean we're officially together?” I ask a hint of confusion in my tone.
“I think we are past that. I mean you did just cum what feels like a gallon in me.” Marshmallow teases
“Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I have no idea what came over me.” I apologize
“You're fine. If I didn't want it, I would've stopped you. Besides, it was reassuring because I felt a surge of emotions when meeting you too,” Marshmallow says, her tone adorable.
“Okay. So, what's next? Because I'm technically off the clock. Should we grab lunch?” I inquired, my mind swirling with conflicting feelings.
Marshmallow beams. “I'd love to,” she replies gratefully. I nod, but then the reality of the situation hits me.
I begin to scramble around the room. “Wait, let me tidy up first,” I insist, hastily organizing everything and dusting Marshmallow off. I can sense her smile as she watches me work. Once finished, I turn to her.
“Why does it look better than when we came in?” Marshmallow remarks with a smile, perching herself on a table, her feet dangling adorably.
“I know how it's supposed to look, and I know how to make it that way, no matter what,” I explain. Marshmallow nods before gracefully sliding off the table with my assistance.
“What a gentleman,” she teases.
“Well, I try,” I respond, eliciting another smile from Marshmallow.
We slip out of the zoo unnoticed and head to a nearby steakhouse. We get seated and order our drinks. Marshmallow’s hand slips into mine and fits perfectly as we continue to feel each other out.
“So, I heard you raised the Zoo’s only male Magnamalo from birth,” Marshmallow brings up as we settle in our seats and receive our drinks. I nod.
“Yeah, Tony and I have been together since I was 16 when Old McDonald hired me.”
“So, you've been at the zoo for 10 years,” Marshmallow concludes, smiling warmly at me. Our drinks arrive, and Marshmallow's face lights up even more after taking her first sip, mirroring my own enjoyment. As she sets her drink down, her expression shifts to one of intense focus.
“You know, Old McDonald…” Marshmallow begins.
“E I E I Oh,” I interject, prompting a chuckle from Marshmallow.
“What was that?” Marshmallow asks, amusement evident in her tone.
“Just a reflex from an old inside joke,” I reply, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Marshmallow squeezes my hand, her touch radiating tenderness and care, melting away my defenses. I can't help but smile goofily in response.
“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” Marshmallow teases, her eyes sparkling with affection. I playfully kiss her cheek, earning a happy smile in return. “The previous zoo owner relied on you for almost everything. Can I?” she continues, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Sure, but first, I have some requests,” I respond.
“Oh, and what might those be?” Marshmallow inquires.
“Well, I know you're not just a former K-pop idol but also a renowned megafauna researcher with an impressive list of achievements. While I may not have the same level of expertise, I've raised or helped raise almost all the animals in the zoo, especially our big-ticket boy, Alucard.”
“Another one of your naming conventions?” Marshmallow teases with a smirk. I nod before continuing.
“I need you to trust my expertise with them, and please refrain from belittling me or flaunting your credentials. Given how our bodies reacted today, I'm not sure what might happen if things become confrontational. I'm open to constructive discussion, but if it turns into a challenge, I'll stand my ground firmly,” I explain, adopting a serious tone to convey the gravity of my request.
Marshmallow's smile widens. “You understand!” she exclaims excitedly, leaving me momentarily puzzled.
“Understand what?” I inquire.
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jake-g-lockley · 1 year
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The Anonymous Annotator (Steven Grant x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?
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Prompt: ARGUING!! then a heated "kiss me." and suddenly their hands are all over each other
Warning: MDNI, dom!Steven, sub!reader, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, dry humping, cockwarming (if you squint), nipple play 
A/N: Ok so I was watching MK again, as one does and I realized I want more of the Steven who talked back to Marc before he and Layla went to explore the tomb, so here is Steven being a little shit, cuz that's hot. Forget everything you know about sweetie Steven, k bye. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You sat in your dorm listening to music when you heard a knock on your door. You jumped up and opened the door, only to find a mysterious package on your doormat. It was wrapped in brown paper and had your name scrawled on it with messy handwriting. You rushed to your bed and pulled the string, tearing open the paper, revealing one of your spicier books that you hid under your bed, making your eyes widen. 
You frantically threw yourself off the bed to check under the bed and to your absolute horror, the book wasn't there. You spread your legs in front of you and pulled the book from the top of your bed and flipped to the front page, where the same handwriting blossomed. 
“To the one who’s eyes make the stars feel shy.” 
You flipped through the pages and found every bit of white space was covered in intricately detailed annotations. Your face heated up and you spent the next few hours reading how the mysterious annotator would alter the events of the books to make it more suitable for you. You gulped at the small smiley faces that would mark the end of the most crude sentences that you had ever laid your eyes on. 
“Where would you like my hands, sweet angel? Around your wrists, while I watch your tits bounce around while I thrust myself into you? Around your thighs, when I pin you down as you squirm against my face when my tongue carves my name out in your wetness? Around your neck, to see whether you’d be able to resist the urge to cum around my cock without me even moving a single muscle? :)”
It was seductive, and you were absolutely tantalised by the idea that you had a secret admirer. Suddenly, you can’t think about anything else but sex. 
“I wonder if I could fold you over like this, cover you with my spend after I’ve fucked you like a pathetic toy, leaning all of my body weight against you to whisper more things that could cause your pussy to clench around nothing.”
Every word, every phrase that was etched into the pages of the book in pencil burned coarsely against your skin and mind. 
“I think the protagonist could totally do better here. I’d love to hear your pretty noises as I devour you whole, to watch you come apart from my touch would be a blessing like no other.” 
You feel a warm pulsing somewhere below as you try taking deep breaths, trying to control the urges that rushed through your body. You rub your thighs together and you are suddenly hyper aware of your body’s changes, your skin feeling prickly, your breasts feeling uncomfortably trapped under your bra.
“Hah, rearranging her guts? I’d rearrange your brain chemistry just with my fingers in your sweet tight cunt.”
The warm tingling pulsation of your clit and increasing wetness and builds up from there, to the point of frustration where you have trouble thinking about anything other than your complete desire to be filled by the person who had taken the time to write all of their unrefined and vulgar thoughts on paper. 
“I’d let you sit and warm my cock for hours with you reading this over and over, till your eyes get tired and your cunt puls-”
Suddenly, your phone rang and you snapped out of whatever trance you were in, realising that it was your alarm for your class. You shook your head and slammed the book shut, throwing it into your bag, leaping up to leave your dorm.  
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You chewed your inner cheek as you tried to listen to the lecturer, nervously tapping the table to calm your mind. 
“Quit the tapping, dumbass, I can’t focus.” hissed the person beside you.
You rolled your eyes and turned to glare at Steven Grant, third year Egyptology student and your No.1 academic rival. Pity the fact that he was such a pretty boy because he was sometimes just a sarcastic cunt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger a little longer at the silhouette of his side profile, your sight grazing down the beautiful curve of his nose and settling on the plump of his lips.
Steven knew you were staring but didn’t say a word. His eyes were trained on the lecturer before him and he was quite positive that the lecturer was going to call you out any second now.
“Is there something more interesting about Mr. Grant’s face?” you heard the lecturer call out to you and you tore your gaze away from Steven and looked horrifyingly at her.
Steven bit his bottom lip and tried not to smirk as you slowly stood up from your seat. 
“Uh, no Ms. he, umm,” you tried to speak but your mind was jumbling at the thought of being caught and called out all in one second.
“Sit down! And eyes on the board, young lady, I want your focus here as your grades have been steadily declining.” the lecturer said before turning back to the board.
Your face was flushed and your hands were shaking. You could literally feel the smugness radiating off Steven and you gritted your teeth and stared forward, determined to keep your eyes on the board. For the past few weeks, you had been plagued with the mysterious book annotator and your focus had been slipping. You found yourself searching far and wide for the person’s likeness but you never seemed to catch the person anywhere near you. 
Finally the class was dismissed and you quickly gathered all your things and practically sprinted for the exit when you heard your lecturer call your name. You turned to see Steven speaking to your lecturer and sweat beaded at your palms, knowing you were in deep shit today.
“Mr. Grant here has agreed to tutor you, with the promise that you would make proper grades this semester.” your lecturer said and you glared at Steven who had a sweet, innocent smile on his face. 
“Your tutoring sessions are whenever Mr. Grant is free and you are to focus, alright?” you hated the way the lecturer was speaking to you but you purse your lips and nodded. 
“My place, 8 pm today.” Steven whispered and you grimaced but nodded.
Steven eyed the book that poked out of your bag as you quickly walked away and smirked to himself. 
“If she doesn’t have the brains to figure it out herself…”
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“No look, that happened before this, you’re getting the timelines mixed up!”
“I’m getting the timelines mixed up? What about you? Did you write this goddamn book, Steven?” 
You knew how this was going to go down, you and Steven arguing away about the stupidest misunderstanding. Your pride made it hard to back down as Steven tried teaching you, and you could tell that he was genuinely trying from the way he pulled out his own flashcards to help you. You couldn’t admit defeat, not to Steven Grant. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, pushing your knuckles into your eyes and counting from one to ten before looking up at Steven again. 
“Come on, it's not that hard.” Steven tried justifying as he flipped through the cards again.
“It’s fucking difficult Steven, stop sounding so fucking smart.” you groan.
“You’re not that fucking stupid either, I just need you to focus.” Steven chastised you, slightly more gently this time.
“I’d probably focus better if you didn’t make such a hot fucking teacher.” you hissed under your breath as you flipped the page angrily.
“What?” Steven whispered.
“You heard me.” you snapped, glaring at him. “You know, you’d probably teach me better if you stopped giving me those big ‘fuck me’ eyes either. Like what? You want me to kiss you or something?” 
You were definitely losing your shit as Steven inhaled a sharp breath of air. Suddenly, everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have the time to register the book being ripped out of your hands and soft plump lips settling against your own. It was a soft kiss at first, testing, unsure, but when you began to move your lips against his, it became more passionate as he pulled you onto his lap without a second thought. 
It took you long enough to push past your primal urges to realise that you were kissing Steven Grant. You snapped out of it and pushed him away, only to see his flushed face, swollen lips and half lidded eyes. It switched on something in you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close once again as your lips began another dance with his. His hands were on your hips as he pushed your clothed core against him, groaning into your mouth. 
“Fuck, Steven, what’s happening?” you whisper against his forehead as he trailed kisses along your cheek and jaw, making your muscles buzz with anticipation. 
“Let it happen, love.” he moaned against your neck as you pressed yourself onto his hardening member again. 
Your hands found his soft hair and you pulled him closer as he began to suck softly at the soft skin of your neck. One of his huge hands palmed at your tits through your tank top, twisting at your hardening sensitive bud and you arched your back, whining and leaning towards your source of pleasure. 
“Love your pretty noises. Don’t stop.” Steven softly encouraged you as he continued to play with your nipple, your mind racing into overdrive.
There was a familiar throb that bloomed inside of you at Steven’s words as something finally clicked. Steven must have sensed the shift too as he smirked darkly against your neck, instantly biting down so that he could drag you away from saying what you needed to say.
“Bloody hell, unngh, it was you.” you managed to say as Steven pushed you against his hardening erection.
“Mhm.” Steven moaned as he licked a long strip up your neck to your ear, kissing the shell of your ear softly.
Every part of you felt sensitive, all tuned towards Steven. You had the sudden urge to be filled and you rutted yourself over and over against him, as if begging him to know what you actually needed. 
“Is it okay if I touch you like this?" His question was spoken lowly, as if he didn’t want to break the fragile veil that was forming over the both of you. 
“Yes, please, mngh, why didn’t you tell me sooner…” you whimpered as his hand grabbed your ass, kneading it softly as his fingers dug through your shorts, trying to feel your skin. 
“Wanna taste you so bad.” he murmured as his lips met yours again.
You were lost for words as the pages and pages of vulgarity blinded your eyes, making you squeeze them shut as you suddenly feel Steven pick you up. You were now lying on a bed, his bed, staring up at the mysterious annotator who had been plaguing your mind with absolute filth and filling your dreams with sweet wet melodies that cursed you throughout your waking life. 
“I bet you know the things I’d like to do to you, my sweet angel.” He said, trailing both of his hands down from your shoulders to the top of your tank top. 
“But you’re supposed to be-”
“Sweet Steven Grant who only cares about his studies? Oh please, darling, let me catch a break.” He ripped your tank top with surprising strength, leaving you bare for him. 
His darkened iris dragged themselves down your body, painting you with their own poetry that could not be described using words in the English dictionary. He pulled his sweater off himself and you gulped at how defined he looked. This shouldn’t be attractive. You shouldn’t be attracted to your rival. You shouldn’t be attracted to the guy who stole one of your private possessions and spilled all of his blasphemous thoughts on it before slyly returning it.
“Wanted to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you. Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl until I got ahold of one of your books, love.” He said into your chest and you gasped at his confession, your brain still trying to comprehend everything.
Steven had your head out of your books for weeks and now he had his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard as you cried his name and pushed his head against you. You desperately needed him to quiet your mind with his tongue and you wanted it so bad that you were already shaking under him. His fingers hooked at your waistband and your hands join him there and the both of you slowly pull your shorts off you.
Steven felt up your thighs, telling you how soft you are, how nice and warm your thighs are and how they’re so pretty, whilst burying his her head in your shoulder and neck, lightly panting and nuzzling you. His hand slowly slid to your mound as he started peppering small kisses along your collarbone. His fingers grazed your hardening nub between your legs as you clench your legs together and turned your head to the side. One of his legs wrenched yours open and pinned you down, sliding his fingers through your wet swollen folds, groaning against you.
“Inside Steven” He obeys, pushing one finger inside and pumping it slowly, bringing his face up to watch your expressions contort beautifully on your face.
You throbbed and twitched around him, your cunt responding beautifully to his touch as his thumb rubs soft circles around your clit. Steven adjusted himself and now had been grinding down his erection on your thigh, throwing his head back at the feeling of your warm wet cunt. Quick breathy moans filled the air as they mingled together and you could barely differentiate yours and Steven’s from the heavy ringing in your ears. 
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you to be.” he whispers and you sigh.
Suddenly his hands are off you and you whine at the loss of touch but it quickly morphed into a moan as Steven’s tongue flicked at your clit. He was so worked up that he pushed his entire face into your already wet cunt and breathed in deeply, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head. He started fucking you with his tongue, thrusting the flexible muscle in and out of you with accurate precision that had you writhing around. He pushed two fingers into you easily and started pushing them in and out as he latched himself onto your clit. Your cries were getting louder and more uncontrollable now as you found yourself heading towards your first clift of the night
“Shut the fuck up and listen, Listen to how fucking wet you are, how fucking wet you are for me.” Steven says, going shallow at first so that you could hear all the sloppy, vulgar noises that your cunt was making.
Your face was heating up and you tried to hide behind your hands but Steven wrenched your hands away, gripping them in a lock as he now pushed in deeper, deeper, going knuckle deep, finding the spots that make you shake, make you quiver.
“Come on baby, I can feel you close, you’ve already made such a huge mess around my face and hands, go ahead and cum.” with that Steven’s mouth was back on you as you hurtle past your pleasure, pussy tightly clenching around his fingers as Steven lapped up all of your spend before it could wet the bed beneath you. 
He slowly massaged your tit as you came down from your high, twitching slightly as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and started to suck them clean, moaning at the taste of you and giving you a show that you didn’t know you needed. 
You look up at Steven when he was done, your eyes big and wide as a question sits on your tongue. Steven nodded and your eyes dropped to the tent between his legs. 
"Can I touch?" you ask softly, keeping yourself from palming him through his sweats. 
"Touch what, darling?" Steven asked, making your face heat up again.
“Your cock, Steven, please.” you decided to say please anyway, before he had any forethought to tease you any longer. 
Steven flops down beside you and gestures at his crotch and you take it as a sign to undress him. You tug his sweats down along with his boxers and his cock pops out slapping against his abdomen. You lick your lips and grab ahold of him, feeling him in your hands. You kneel next to him and spit on your hand, taking his cock and starting to pump him up and down as his head lolled back onto the pillow. 
You take the tip in your mouth, just sucking on it gently. You let your tongue drag over it, smearing pre cum all over the tip as your hand continues to slowly pump him up and down. Suddenly your mouth is around him and you start sucking, driven by the noises that Steven started making. His hand was soon in your hair as he involuntarily started pushing you to take more and more of him and you obliged, swallowing around him as his tip grazed the back of your throat. 
“Gods, I didn’t know your mouth could work like this. If I knew earlier, I could use my cock to shut you up whenever I please.” Steven moans and you rolled your eyes and licked the underside of his shaft, making his cock twitch. 
Soon, you had him properly squirming against you as you bounced your head up and down his shaft. His hands were suddenly at the back of your head as he pulled you off him, spit trailing from your mouth to his dick as you took big gulps of air. 
“Need to be inside you.” he mumbles as he gently takes your arms and pulls you towards him for a bruising kiss. 
You straddled him, settling your pussy against his spit soaked cock, making him moan against your lips. You pulled away to watch his facial expression as he moved his cock to prod at your entrance. You sunk down slowly and Steven watched as your cunt swallowed him up whole, tipping his head back again as the both of you hissed from the fullness. You folded your legs behind Steven and he nestled his head against your bare breasts, inhaling your scent. He pushed himself slightly forward so that he would have enough space to fuck up into your cunt. 
And that's what he did. 
With small shallow strokes, Steven began to thrust up into your warm cunt, moaning at your tightness and feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of you around him. It was true, he’d wanted you ever since he laid eyes on you. He thought you were the most fascinating human beings he had ever met and loved the passion that flowed through you. But you were one smart cookie, beating him in every test, acing everything that made you triumphantly yell at his face. 
Sure, he wanted you to fall back a little bit and he taught himself how to gain control over you. One day, that control came upon him in the form of one of your books. He wasn’t surprised that you would read something like this, his mouth forming into a grin as the evil thoughts began to fill his mind. He jotted them down in your book and one morning, decided that it would be a good idea to deliver the book to you, setting it down at your front door and walking away quickly. 
How you didn’t notice his handwriting for weeks absolutely baffled him. He knew you were smarter than that and suddenly he realised that he’d indirectly gotten you in a chokehold. You were frantic, searching around, trying to find the person who had an iron grip around you when the person was right beside you. Part of him felt guilty when your grades started dropping and he really was going to teach you today, but your mind was clearly elsewhere. 
He snapped his hips against your ass a little harder, your face buried in his curls, moaning into his scalp. He tilted his own head up and kissed a soft spot at the bottom of your chin, making you giggle slightly. It was incredibly intimate, being in this position with Steven, but you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was doing this for his own benefit. Steven could feel your breathing change and he stopped, bringing himself to your eye level as the both of you panting softly, breathing in each other’s air from the close proximity. 
“Love?” 
“Do you really want me, Steven, or are you just doing this to have a one up on me?”  you say, trying to find a comfortable position as Steven was buried in you up to the hilt. 
Guilt began to pour over Steven’s head and he sighed, pushing your hair away from your face and taking a good look at you.
“I really want you, darling. I know my methods are questionable, but oh, I wanted you and still want you so bad.”  he said, cupping your face in his hands. 
“I’m still mad at you Steven, for making my grades drop .” you stay sternly, combing your hands through his unruly locks and dragging them to his face, tracing all of its sharp edges as his eyes flutter close. 
You couldn’t help but smile at the man before you and his words truly did turn you on. They were etched deep into your mind as you read them over and over whilst your hand was between your legs, trying hard to picture the person who had spilled all of their sins onto the pages of the books. Now you had your picture in front of you and the picture was beautiful. 
“But I can’t help but want you too.” you whispered and his worried face morphed to one of pure bliss as he relaxed, leaning his forehead against yours. 
“So, you’re going to have to make it up to me by fucking me like you promised in your writings. Okay?” you whisper against his soft breaths and he chuckled as his cock throbbed impatiently inside of you, causing you to moan. 
Steven immediately flipped you over and claimed your lips with his again, drawing his hips back and slamming into you with so much force that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He began to thrust in and out with his own rhythm picking up speed. A calm, deep growl, and soft grunt filled your ears with each increasingly deep thrust inside you as Steven quite literally started railing you into the bed. 
Your cunt spasmed around his length and a primal craving snapped inside of Steven as his thrust became more and more powerful. He took in deep breaths, becoming high on your pheromones as you moaned his name over and over, until it started to sound like garbled garbage. He loved the way his cock stretched you out and he loved the way you were taking all of him, your whimpers spurring him on as he watched your tits jiggle. 
He grabbed your legs and folded you over, the new angle making you sob at how intense the pleasure was. Steven pushed himself against you and the sting you felt throughout your body as well as the constant thrust of Steven’s cock pushed you over the edge again with the help of his thumb at your clit. You came, squeezing Steven as tight as you possibly could. Steven felt himself collapse against you as he could only roll his hips and grind against you, your pussy sucking him in and keeping him there as he tried to help you ride out your high. 
Steven finally let himself relax as he used you for his own release, fighting against the muscles of your pussy as his cock twitched intensely. He pulled out of you and slammed into you a few more times, before releasing his own pent up spend into you, painting your walls with his seed as he rode out his own high. 
Steven let go of your legs and slumped against you, his whole body going absolutely limp from fucking you like a mad man. You pressed a small kiss on his temple and whispered a thank you into his ear as he floated back down to earth, his head pounding from the intensity of his release. 
“I’ve got more books, if you want to ruin them with your filth.” you said softly, earning a chuckle from Steven.
“Only if you focus and let me teach you, love.”
“Yada yada, fine, Professor Grant.” you say jokingly, but gulped when you felt Steven hardening inside you again.
“Hmm, looks like someone wants round two.” 
You were definitely done for now. 
Reblogs are appreciated~~~
Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @celiaswife @violet-19999 @melodygatesauthor @romanarose
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siilvan · 9 months
Text
bloodsport – I
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prologue | next
characters: vladimir makarov
summary: day one of your imprisonment brings you face-to-face with the enemy.
genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra, no desc.)
warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, minor descriptions of blood/injuries, light manipulation?, makarov fucks w/ reader's head (╯д╰)
word count: 3.3k
note: listened to makarov’s voice reveal while writing this and felt my brain chemistry change immediately <3
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the first thing you notice after waking up is how uncomfortable the bed you're sleeping on is. the mattress is thin and bare, sitting low to the ground on a wrought iron frame that had seen better days. your body aches, muscles burning and begging for reprieve as you pull yourself up to sit. you carefully swing your legs over the edge of the bed and wince from the effort.
you're not in a hospital, not even a temporary clinic set up for emergency treatment. the walls are made up of weathered stone and brick, akin to an old prison built to withstand a siege, and the iron bars across the room confirm your suspicions.
you've been captured.
the air surrounding you seems to grow thicker, heavier, threatening to steal the oxygen straight from your lungs. during your career, you've dealt with a great number of challenges: being shot, stabbed, abandoned, betrayed, and even nearly killed. you've been captured as well, but only for planned operations. torture was never a threat.
several parts of your body are neatly wrapped in surprisingly clean bandages, reminding you of the incident that led to your capture. the missile, konni's presence in the city, makarov. did he take the sergeants captive, as well? are they here with you?
you force yourself to stand and try to ignore your knees almost buckling as you cross the room, heading towards the door. a glance through the bars provides little information - the cell across from yours is empty, and the only sound you can make out is meaningless chatter between the guards patrolling the hall. they're speaking in russian, preventing you from eavesdropping on their conversations. it's probably nothing important, anyway. while searching, you start to consider the worst case scenario.
soap and gaz may not be here. they could be lying dead in the sand, either killed by their wounds or by the enemy.
you shake your head and step back into the middle of the room, not even daring to entertain that train of thought any longer. you can't afford to doubt your team at a time like this. they're alive, either in cells of their own or recovering somewhere else.
the voices in the hall suddenly go quiet. they're soon replaced by footsteps, languid yet purposeful, expensive shoes padding against the stone floor and steadily drawing closer. your eyes stay glued to the door, unmoving from it despite your instincts telling you to run. you have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. your only option is to face the person approaching directly.
advice from your team swims through your mind. although the sergeants have never been locked up and tortured, price and ghost have. you can remember price's stories clear as day, as if he told them only yesterday. ghost was more private about his experiences, but after las almas, he slowly began to open up about his past. the two echoed the same advice to the sergeants and yourself.
do whatever is necessary to make it out alive.
you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply, attempting to calm your buzzing nerves and racing heart. panic will do you no good in this situation. when you open your eyes, you're immediately greeted by one of the guards - a man in black clothing and gear, his face obscured, unlocking the door at the far end of the room. he steps away a second later, leaving you staring at the man you dreaded meeting through the bars.
his gaze is trained on you, dark eyes burning holes into your skin, rendering you immobile. you try to maintain a confident demeanor nonetheless, refusing to give him the satisfaction of intimidating you.
"turn around," he says, his voice flat as he gives you the simple command. "hands on the wall."
you hesitate, pride briefly overtaking your rational senses. after a short-lived staring contest, however, you silently concede and turn to face the wall. you press your palms to the cold stone and listen as the door creaks open and shut. gloved hands wrap around your wrists shortly thereafter and pull your arms backwards, forcing them behind your back. cold metal replaces his touch and binds your wrists.
"seems a bit excessive, don't you think?" you ask. your voice wavers just slightly, hoarse from lack of use. "i'm already out of commission, thanks to these injuries."
he gives you no response, though you catch a glimpse of his apathetic expression when he reaches past you to grab a metal chair that rests in the corner of the room. it scrapes across the floor as he drags it away, and you turn once more to watch as he sets it down a few feet from the side of the bed.
"sit down." he looks at you and motions to the bed. you wordlessly follow the order and stumble forward before settling on the edge of the mattress, hands clenched into tight fists. he sits on the chair across from you and leans back, looking completely at ease while taking in your current appearance.
"do you know who i am?" he speaks again, eyes flicking back up to meet yours. you feel like a prey animal locking eyes with a predator, waiting for them to tear you apart. you don't dare to look away.
"makarov." the name leaves your lips in a low murmur. "leader of the ultranationalists. konni's commander. the 'world's biggest threat,' according to some. i've heard plenty about you." you stiffen as the edge of his mouth twitches, an eerie smile playing on his lips.
"i'm sure captain price had a great deal to say, lieutenant." he folds his hands in his lap, nodding towards your bandaged body. you're still in your uniform, albeit without your dirty and damaged outer layers, and your gear is long gone. you feel vulnerable under his gaze. "my men found you in quite an... unfortunate state. i must admit that i'm impressed. surviving a direct missile strike is no small feat."
"where is my team?" you demand, fighting against the restraints. they don't loosen in the slightest, of course, and makarov merely tilts his head to the side at your struggle. "there were two men with me. where are they? what did you do with them?"
he blinks at you, refusing to respond. you open your mouth to repeat the question, before he interrupts you. "they didn't put up much of a fight. it was disappointing, really." his hands unfold and he shifts in the chair, chuckling to himself. "i expected more from price's so-called 'elite task force.'"
his comment pulls an involuntary gasp from you, a stuttering breath falling from your lips. "they didn't... you killed them?" you ask, voice dropping to a near-whisper. it can't be true. soap, gaz– surely they're still alive. they have to be.
"i never said that," he replies, shaking his head in a low-effort attempt to placate you. "whether your teammates still live is not my concern. my men left them to their own fates."
your eyes narrow, though your shoulders slump just a little at his answer. they could still be alive. "what is your concern, then? i doubt you've taken me captive just to talk." you remark, racking your brain for any reason why he'd take you over the rest of the team. convenience, perhaps? you were defenseless, and of the options readily available, you held the highest rank.
"nothing gets past you, does it, lieutenant?" makarov leans forward, prompting you to sit up straighter in order to keep a comfortable distance. his voice lowers, as if he was hiding his next words from any curious souls just outside the room. "i think we can help each other. i have information that you need, and your allies have the resources to take care of a constant thorn in my side."
"are you saying we have a common enemy?"
he nods, reaching into his pocket. "it appears we do." he pauses, pulling out a cellphone and scrolling for a moment before turning it towards you. you lean closer, studying the image on the screen as he continues. "this should look familiar to you."
you furrow your brow at the blurry picture, but the subject still stands out. it was a man laying dead on the ground, wearing combat fatigues that looked out-of-date, surrounded by several corpses dressed in similar, yet mismatched uniforms. their bodies have no visible identification, reminding you of the americans you encountered working with konni and al-qatala.
"i remember them. we thought they were random mercenaries hired by your men," you say, shifting your focus back to makarov. "i take it they're not working for you?"
"the men you encountered were not mercenaries. they worked for a man, not a company. your team knows their employer well." he pauses long enough for you to nod your head, urging him to speak. the satisfied smile that briefly crosses his face is enough to make your blood boil beneath your skin - he's enjoying making you beg for information. "the american general. shepherd, was it?"
"what?"
"did you really believe that you could trust him, petra?" he asks with a quirked brow. hearing him utter your callsign in such a casual tone only serves to make you feel hotter, practically burning with rage; at shepherd or makarov, you're not sure.
the situation doesn't make any sense. why would shadow company launch a war with konni, only to ally with them in secret? based on the intel that laswell gathered during your time in las almas, about shadow company losing the missiles to the group, shepherd should want to burn the organization, not assist it. you frantically search for an answer, but come up with nothing. grudgingly, you look to the man sitting in front of you.
"tell me more." you mutter, managing to subdue your anger for the time being.
instead of elaborating, he stands from the chair. you watch him cross the room and stop in front of the door, casting a glance in your direction. "we can discuss the details in due time. for now, come."
you stare at him, confused, before rising to your feet and following him. he leaves the cell and starts down the hallway with you in tow, doing your best to keep pace as the momentarily forgotten pain quickly settles in again. a pair of guards follow the two of you from a small distance, close enough to intervene in an emergency but far enough to not indulge in your discussion.
if you can even call this a "discussion." a madman and his captive audience is a more accurate description.
you try to take in your surroundings. the corridors greatly resemble the cell you were in, dark stone and brick walls that looked in dire need of repairs. the barred windows you pass look out onto different fields, courtyards turned into vehicle and weapon storage. you have to restrain yourself from gawking when you see a small collection of tanks in one area, accompanied by smaller APCs scattered about.
makarov has a small army that somehow slipped under your radars. you're well aware of konni and his affiliation with other powerful groups, but you've always assumed they were disorganized, using guerilla tactics and thrifted gear. this is something else entirely, you think. he's preparing for war.
you hear a soft rumbling in the distance. at first, you mistake it for one of the vehicles, until the sound disappears. it reappears seconds later, and you quickly realize that it's thunder.
"petra," he addresses you suddenly, drawing your attention. "tell me, do you consider yourself a good person?"
your brows knit together at the question. it feels out of place, and you wonder for a moment if you misheard him. your step falters, causing one of the guards to grumble something about "keeping up" until you catch up again. "i, uh– i guess i do, yeah. what are you getting at?"
there's a storm approaching, the thunder sounding closer now. the sky grows dark as grey clouds begin to form and block out the sun, casting shadows across the exterior grounds. it's a melancholic scene, although fitting considering your circumstances. you reach a set of doors that another pair of guards pull open, allowing you to step outside.
a cold breeze sweeps past you almost instantly, forcing a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rise to the surface of your exposed skin. makarov says something to the guards that you don't quite catch and the doors shut behind you, leaving you alone with him. you're standing on a small balcony overlooking a bustling area full of soldiers and mercenaries alike, training and organizing their forces.
"you consider yourself good, even though you're responsible for innocent lives being lost?" he remarks, stepping towards the balcony's edge and placing his hands atop the stone ledge.
"innocent lives– you are the one responsible for that!" you exclaim, striding across the balcony and glaring daggers at his profile. "my job is to save people, and that's what i do. i've spent years hunting down threats just like you with the sole purpose of making the world safer for the innocents!"
he turns to face you with the same apathetic expression as earlier, when he first entered your cell. he doesn't look at all affected by your words, dark eyes staring straight through you. if you didn't know better, you'd think he was seeing into your very soul. his response - or rather, the lack thereof - is enough to make you go quiet. a beat of silence passes between you, only broken by the encroaching thunder and sounds of his soldiers training in the field below.
"what of the missiles used by your allies? the ones that they lost." he mutters, earning an exasperated sigh from you.
"you mean the missiles that your men killed them for?" you flex your hands in the restraints and shake your head. "i'm not allied with the shadows or their commander, but even if i was, those missiles were going to a good cause."
"and, where were they going?"
your eyes flit from his own, focusing on the distant horizon. you can tell exactly where he's going with this line of questioning, but the frustration continues to build up inside of you.
"if i had to guess, they were probably heading straight for your doorstep." you grumble, shifting from one foot to the other. standing for so long is nothing short of agonizing, given your current state.
he clicks his tongue, making a 'tsk' sound at your reply. "you cannot claim to be fighting for a good cause, if said cause considers civilians another price of war." makarov huffs. from the corner of your eye, you can see his gaze still firmly locked on you. "the lives that you save will never outweigh the damage you've done. they'll never cleanse your hands of the blood that stains them. every time your allies fire off a missile to kill someone like me, so, too, are they killing innocent–"
"you're one to fucking talk–"
the words tumble from your lips as your back is slammed into the wall, your skull knocking against the stone from the force. you wince, eyes temporarily falling out of focus and head spinning from yet another injury. makarov leans in dangerously close, one of his hands wrapped around your throat uncomfortably tight, restricting your airflow. you can still breathe, but just barely, sucking in short gasps of air.
"watch your mouth."
the warning is a low growl next to your ear, his voice dripping with such an intense venom that it makes your skin crawl. you try to nod your head despite his hold, finding it impossible to form any words with your lack of oxygen. your brain is firing off warning signals, desperate pleas to eliminate or escape the threat in front of you.
after a couple seconds, his grip loosens, allowing you to fully inhale and exhale, chest heaving with each ragged breath. he's still standing unbearably close, enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. it's an unwelcomed reprieve from the damp breeze that makes your weary bones ache.
finally, he releases you and steps back, giving you space to come down from your brief adrenaline rush. you blink away any remaining disorientation and fix your gaze on him, sinking down on your heels and slumping against the wall.
he looks completely calm - a stark contrast to his demeanor from just moments ago. an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach as you watch him collect himself, fixing the rolled cuffs of his dress shirt and straightening his suit jacket.
"you wanted to know more about general shepherd." he mutters, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. you worry the inside of your cheek and nod in return.
"the men working for him are not mercenaries, nor are they from any private military group. they're ex-soldiers." he begins, crossing his arms behind his back. "operatives from the CIA, to be precise. he has attempted to send several men undercover, and he's failed every single time. once discovered, they are... taken care of."
you lower your head and squint, struggling to follow. "i understand sending one man undercover, but why more? what is he trying to accomplish?"
"come on, you can figure that one out."
you want to sneer at the condescending tone, but instead you close your eyes and try to think. shepherd is still in the wind after las almas, and the only person that has a chance of knowing his location is graves. judging by the latter's cooperation with urzikstan, however, you can safely assume that shepherd is lacking in resources.
"he's attempting to start a war. reestablish himself and shadow company as an invaluable military asset," you mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling apprehensive about revealing this to the man in front of you. "if he can prove his worth, he can find forgiveness for his crimes. he'll try to use his position to pin it on the one-four-one, too."
"very clever, petra. i'm impressed." he chuckles at the glare you shoot his way, clearly annoyed with his praise.
you bite your tongue and push yourself off the wall. "i need to relay this to my team as soon as possible. shepherd can't be left to his own devices." you roll your shoulders back and mentally prepare for the uphill battle that the you'll be facing. the one-four-one's relationship with shadow company is already fragile, and you're left to ponder if graves knows about this plan. he could very well be involved.
"no need to fret over that. i have people for matters such as this."
makarov saunters across the balcony and places his hand on the door handle. you narrow your eyes at him, confusion plainly written on your expression.
"i thought you said we could help each other."
"haven't we?" he asks, swinging the door open. "ah, i can see what that pretty little mind of yours is struggling to understand. you believed i was going to let you go, didn't you?"
a bright flash emerges from the storm clouds blanketing the sky, illuminating the crooked grin on his face. you stumble towards him, fatigued body threatening to collapse under its own weight. you should have known better, you shouldn't have trusted that the situation would end in your favor.
"you– you fucking asshole–"
before you can lunge at him, use the last of your strength to do something, the guards from before appear in the doorway and restrain you. their hands dig into your skin, aggravating fresh wounds and setting your sensitive nerves ablaze, ripping a pathetic pained whimper from your lips.
"as much as i would love to stay and indulge myself," makarov starts, stepping aside to allow the guards to force you back inside the stronghold. "i have somewhere i need to be. as do you."
"go fuck yourself–!" you snap, fighting the guards in a last-ditch effort to free yourself. as they drag you down the hall, back to the prison cell you had already grown to hate, he keeps his gaze on you.
"i look forward to getting better acquainted with you, lieutenant."
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mazzystar24 · 16 days
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What I don't get is why people think it's problematic to still wish for Buddie. Like isn't it worse to be happy just because he's with a dude now. Like so you didn't ship Buddie for their amazing chemistry and history, you just shipped them because they were two hot dudes.
(This is not directed at people who are enjoying Tevan for the ride, this is about people who jumped completely)
((obviously bi Buck is important, but I don't think seeing it as a step towards Buddie is bad. We've been waiting for something like this for so many years))
Sorry but this is all that’s in my head^^
But yes yay now I get to have my rant-
The fact that so many people genuinely just wanted buck to end up with a dude is just
Look there is wanting representation which I GET I am all for
Then there is not caring about anything to do with that representation as long as you see two hot guys kiss
Representation without substance, meaning and actually changing what we usually see on screen is just so surface level
and listen we are ALL guilty of that thing where we hear about a show with a queer couple and we instantly get excited and rush over there but some of these people don’t give a shit about the storylines as a whole, the characters as a whole, character development, etc all those things that make representation MATTER
Like we aren’t just happy that bi buck is canon because oh look here’s a bi man character
No we are happy because we got to see his development we got to see his insecurities, history, his personality and his bond with these other characters through the years. Now look I’m not saying oh look at this fictional character think about his feelings, I’m saying that characters and their complexities drive a story they are what make me invested whether it’s a book a movie or show, and to not care about any of that just for the sake of tokenism is insane to me
I also feel it bares mentioning that this is one of the RARE times that this representation in media isn’t a case of tokenism like they’ve taken a character and built him and built the show and built the dynamics outside of his sexuality and made it canon in season SEVEN like Tim and Oliver and the entire team did something we don’t see much or ANY of in media like the way they made it is like we have this journey with the character like it’s a double blind test ( sorry I’m revising for a psych exam rn and my brain can only use that analogy) and until the reveal seven years in we don’t know for sure even if there have been inklings and people are more focused on the fact that oh look some hot dude kisses another in this show
Like genuinely ship what you want to ship and enjoy the time but don’t disregard meaningful potential representation which would have 1. A character navigating sexuality in a situation as complex as Eddie’s 2. A gay couple which wasn’t planned and they actually listened to fans for 3. A well done queer slow burn with the same gravity and meaningfulness that straight slowburns get
Thank you for the opportunity to rant anon🫡
Sorry for the long ass reply😭😭
Edit: also wanna add that yes I’m in analysing media mode because I also have sociology revision on representation in media🤭🤭
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obimaulartfire · 9 months
Text
Do you ever just...wake up and think about how Obi-wan was, for most of his life, Maul's reason to live?
Let me explain, and this is one of the main reasons I was drawn to ObiMaul in the first place. (long ramble below)
We're all aware of the events at the reactor fight, and it'd be an understatement to say it was a very hostile first encounter. But it's in the aftermath where the dynamic gets interesting.
Maul survived on his own, for years, with only his top half. As a former biology major, sometimes I think about how possible this would be in real life, if at all. It would be insanely uncomfortable at best, and impossible at worst. But through the excruciating pain, Maul survived, fueled purely by his intense hatred/obsession with Kenobi (and some star wars darkside magic, I'm sure).
Maul says this himself when first meeting Obi-wan again in season 4 of The Clone Wars:
"You would never imagine the depths I'd go to to stay alive, fueled by my singular hatred...for you."
Imagine being on the brink of death, with half of your circulatory system GONE, your heart beating irregularly, and your "lower half" being in constant pain, but still finding something to live for, and living...for YEARS. That's impressive. Hate-filled or not, it's hard to deny that for that time, thoughts of Obi-wan literally kept Maul alive for a decade.
Maul comes back to the series having been left for dead by Sidious, with spider legs he made himself, and no sense of time and a destroyed sense of sanity. Yet, he lives.
And additionally, revenge on Sidious is only second in his thoughts to his revenge on Obi-wan, even though Sidious is technically the one who left him for dead. Since Maul can't sit still, he did many other things during the Clone Wars in accordance with his own ambitions, likely to attempt to reclaim that part of his life that had been lost to Lotho Minor, but that's a tangent for another post.
He gets revenge on Obi-wan (I guess) by killing Satine, but even that isn't enough for him, as evidenced by the Satine hate shrine that we see in Rebels, when Ezra visits Maul's cave on Dathomir:
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(on a side note, there is no sane heterosexual explanation for this^, I'm sorry/j)
Why would you keep a memento of someone you've killed? Why would you cross out their eyes? Maul didn't hate Satine that much, and it's my opinion that he did this because she was important to Obi-wan.
And that brings me to my next point: Rebels Maul
Y'all.... there's a reason the title of my blog is "Twin Suns Changed My Brain Chemistry", because I vaguely had feelings about these two in Clone Wars, but Rebels really cemented this dynamic for me.
I cannot emphasize enough that in Rebels, Maul thinks Obi-wan Kenobi is dead. Whether he got killed in Order 66 or when Vader and the Inquisitors started purging Force Users, there was maybe a .000001% chance that any Jedi, especially Obi-wan, would have survived that. And yet. When we enter Rebels, we find Maul on Malachor, stuck on the planet looking for the Sith holocron.
WHY is he trying to find the Sith holocron? In Maul's own words:
"As for me, I...seek something much simpler, yet equally elusive... Hope."
Hope? That surely isn't a Sith ideal. It's revealed later that the only reason Maul wants to combine these ancient artifacts is to learn whether or not Obi-wan Kenobi is alive. I shit you not.
This implies that Maul has had Hope that Obi-wan has been alive for what... 15 years? That's a long time. At this point, Maul may be like, 49 or 50. He has been fixated on Obi-wan for 30 years of his life. Thoughts of Obi-wan kept him going and going and going for 3/5ths of his life. Even when he thinks Obi-wan has died, he spends 15 years trying to find him, just hoping that he is alive. But for what?
It's unclear to me what Maul, in canon, really desires from Obi-wan. But one thing for sure is that Obi-wan acts as a...source of emotions for Maul. A source of feelings, and a reason to keep going through times that other characters would give up.
Other characters may have survived, but Maul lived because of Obi-wan. Through being bisected, the Clone Wars, being chased by Vader and the Inquisitors, and through periods of despair.
And before the end, he just wants to find his reason to live again, and dies in his arms.
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sporesgalaxy · 1 year
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I've been seeing a lot of Trigun posts around and ngl it's got me interested in the show! What's your recommendation for what to start with first? Like reading the manga first or starting with Stampede?
I actually really recommend MY experience, which was Trigun 1998 -> Trigun Stampede -> Trigun & Trigun Maximum manga
I'll explain why under the cut :) But tl;dr the order is
Very Little Lore Explained -> Some Lore Explained -> All Lore Explained And Woven Beautifully Into The Themes
Trigun 1998
the Trigun 1998 anime was made before the manga was finished, so some major plot points towards the end are very different because they were at least partially improvised. There is also very very little worldbuilding lore revealed in the 1998 anime-- but when they did touch on it, it really piqued my interest!
I'd imagine the 1998 anime might be a bit disappointing to watch after Stampede or the manga, when you're aware of all the cool characters and worldbuilding you're missing out on. Going into 1998 blind, I just felt vaguely confused yet emotionally compelled & willing to accept it because YeeHaw Space Cowboy, yknow?
Stampede
Trigun Stampede was made after the completion of the manga, and was clearly more than excited to dig into the worldbuilding and villain buildup that the original anime missed out on. But as I've said it ends up so tightly paced that it's missing the weight 1998's slower pacing could lend to the Average Human Lives around Vash.
It will offer you much more worldbuilding and some very strong character introductions, which I think are good lead-ups for meeting the characters in their Fullest Forms in the manga.
The Manga
Now, the animes are gonna leave you with a lot of questions. About character motivations and Plants, mostly. You'll feel the themes were well-delivered, but have the distinct feeling that they could be stronger. They're also going to leave you wanting more time to spend with these charming, lovable characters.
I am delighted to say that the manga delivers everything you could possibly be left wanting for after the animes BEAUTIFULLY, AND THEN SOME!!!!!!! I've been devouring it at a record pace and it has yet to disappoint. The themes and their spectacular deliveries are changing my brain chemistry. I'm absorbing it into my soul.
Please Please Please even if you dont like either anime, read the manga anyway. Especially if you don't like either anime because you feel they don't deliver on their philosophical musings adequately. Because the manga DOES deliver. So much. Please I'm begging. It's so good it's so fucking good
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nxmimochi · 1 year
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khr moments that changed my brain chemistry
the air bikes.
shamal asking hibari if he has a sister
squalo dying THREE TIMES
the simultaneous existence of hell, reincarnation and a ghost dimension
anime gokudera’s dynamite lighting by itself
the varia being grown ass adults in the cradle affair flashback
mukuro “pineapple hair” rokudo choosing to mentor someone with a fruit themed hat
the reveal that “ciaossu” meant “chaos” the entire time and that reborn is a demon who  opened every episode by yelling CHAOS to preface shooting a teenager
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minkkumaz · 8 months
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MYTHICAL CREATURES (TEMPORARY HIATUS)
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there's an unnatural occurrence in the air, linking to what could only be described as a false reality. maybe it was the presence of october that brought out these creatures, bold enough to reveal themselves for a chance at love. or possibly, you're the monster.
PAIRING boynextdoor x fem!reader WC tbd TAGLIST send an ask to be added ! OMI NOTE happy early early halloween! i wanted to drop the masterlist for this in case anyone wanted to be on the taglist, but i won't be publishing until october rolls around! this whole idea started with mermaid leehan LOL then i wanted to do something inspired by i do - (g)i-dle and i thought about woonhak.. then all the ideas spiraled, but i genuinely am really excited for this. i might do other halloween posts but for now this is all i have planned hehe. p.s. titles and synopsis are subject to change >&lt;
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my heart, not yours cupid sungho + human reader the way his heart threatened yours should've been intimidating, yet it only lured you into a trap that was unescapable. rumors spread that with his assistance, love would be as easy as picking a flower. and though his shots constantly missed you, a little force wasn't completely out of the picture.
look at me human riwoo + medusa reader secluding yourself from the world was easier when staying away from him wasn't such a daunting task. you were drawn to him, but he was too lovely for his life to be cut short because of you. had life always been so unfair that it insisted to keep you away from the pretty expression on his face?
brain chemistry human jaehyun + zombie reader a zombies bite is lethal, you weren't safe. your limb barely felt like it was attached to your body, completely hopeless as your life didn't belong to you anymore; it was in possession of the world that was rapidly going to shit. despite this, he wasn't scared of the person you were becoming. he overflowed with the ill idea that he could help you before it was too late.
tips of your teeth vampire taesan + human reader maybe you shouldn't have gotten involved with the mysterious boy on campus, let alone fall deep into him. soon, his existence would be nothing but a mere scratch mark on the surface of the world. any risk would be worth spending a lifetime with him, even death.
light shower mermaid leehan + human reader regardless of anything else the world had to offer, you wanted to hope soulmates were real. the unreal idea that ones heart could be perfectly sculpted to match yours. whether you'd find it in man, or something not quite, he spoke to you in a calming symphony that was taunting.
otherworldly human woonhak + alien reader everything was unfamiliar to you, trapped on a planet where you weren't supposed to exist. was your life nothing but a myth to appeal to the curiosity of people different from you? even so, the strongest people still required protection from authority. he gave you a home in a foreign place, as well as a warm feeling in your chest that you couldn't quite distinguish.
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definitelynotshouting · 4 months
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Ask game #25?
mcytblr writer ask game
25.) What works and/or authors in the fandom do you recommend?
OH MAN..... GODS OKAY well this is about to become me gushing about my friends, but i think everyone and their mother should be reading @raichett, @droidofmay, @good-chimes, @sillyfairygarden, @sisyphean-writes, @renardroi's writing. Like holy shit i know some incredible authors. Grim in particular went and fully changed my brain chemistry with his fic Total Apogee of the Heart, which i do believe i described to him as "like reading an oil painting," and "like you've taken an axe to my chest and deftly split it down the middle to show me the inner workings of my heart," which is truly the palest of terms i can use to describe something that ended up feeling so soul-shocking to me /pos. The skillful way he twists words to layer these rich, saturated themes into his stories makes me INSAAAAAAANE, its pretty much the epitome of how i want to write when it comes to thematic elements and imbuing my narratives with symbolism. I genuinely dont know how to describe it, but the way he crafts sentences and weaves in references to other media is like reading a fairytale, and it leaves me feeling like ive just resurfaced from a dream every time.
And, ofc, my very good and dear friend Raichett with their ACP-verse-- oh my gods what an incredible read. Reincarnation fic with modern minecraft worldbuilding FUCKING SIGN ME UP..... i think this might be my favorite fic in the fandom because truly you can just feel the heart-wrench of how long Grian has been waiting, of all those words left unsaid during his and Scar's initial conversation that we the reader happen to be privy to. AND THE SEQUEL!!! THEE SEQUELLLLL THE ONGOING SEQUEL RAAAAAAAHH okay im normal im normal im normal <- lying. It just manages to hit every fucking trope i love all at once so i start frothing at the mouth whenever it gets updated or they send me snippets. I could read Raichett's writing for hours and hours and just feel so warm within it, truly beautiful prose and characterization :]
And ohhhh Sisyphean my beloved..... if you havent been reading their anonymous scarian fic series then please please do so, especially Bread and Butterflies, a fic they gifted me that made me simultaneously want to cry and also curl up into for the rest of my life. Something about the atmosphere in their fics, along with the juxtaposition of their unique form of humor, really just knocks it out of the park for me. And, of course, the gut-wrenching wing scene-- trust me, you need to read this fic. The reveal is so incredibly well done that it feels like a gauze being lifted from your eyes so you can finally see more than the lurking silhouette of what's been hinted at. Beautiful fic and evocative writing, i dont feel like i can do it justice you're just gonna have to go read it for yourself >:]
Sorry i told you this was gonna be me gushing so i am going to gush can we talk about Droid's fucking fics please. Can we talk about those. I've always been captivated by their writing, worldbuilding, and the way they so deftly weave implications into their prose to present a fic that feels so neatly-woven it practically breathes. Every work i've ever read from them, regardless of fandom, is some of the most engaging writing ive ever read before. Not to promo a fic inspired by hunger au, but im especially enamoured with their gift will the curse be reversed if you say it backwards. Reading that was like getting kicked in the chest a billion times until it ached, and the way they portrayed the two Grian's dynamics brought me perilously close to tears multiple times while reading, which is admittedly very hard to do. Also i think reading that fic is the closest ive ever gotten to what yall experience whenever i upload a new hunger au chapter-- i stg the dread i felt as the fic progressed had me HOLLERING in their dms like "IS THIS WHAT THATS LIKE. OH MY GODS" truly just a phenomenal fic all around
Thello, oh Thello, my beloved friend, her fic you are here to risk your heart had ME heartbroken in the best of ways when i first read it, and every reread since has only solidified it as a stunning cross-section into 3L!scarian's dynamic. Thello's writing in general is always so deeply elegant and refined-- reading it feels a lot like shoving the world's richest, gooiest, most delicately-layered cake into my mouth to melt on my tongue. She just gets intimacy in a way i rarely see done, highlighting the fragile way people can come together while straining to stay apart. Her writing is so deeply, utterly human in the details she chooses to focus on, and that level of groundedness paired with her fantastical prose makes me feel like what im reading is both very real and also the whisps of a beautiful, colourful dream.
And, last but very much not least, my wonderful friend Telk. Telk's writing is so utterly unique, bursting at the seams with both humor and a quiet rawness that punches me right in the ribs every single fucking time. They're also so deeply, insanely skilled at being able to say so so much in a story while dancing around the actual core of it, drawing you into understanding whats really going on below the surface like an event horizon. Their fic A Certain Je Ne Sais What is, in my mind, a particularly good example of the subtle and skillful way they weave implications into their work-- im perpetually in awe of how meticulously they poured Grian's cognitive dissonance between how he really feels about Scar, and how he wants to feel about Scar, into the narrative. That, and their characterization is genuinely flawless, im not sure ive ever read better character voices that capture the inherent humor of their owners than in Telk's writing.
Gods i have so much more to say about so many more of my friends and their fics but i'll stop here otherwise i will never shut up. Local guy loves his friends so fucking much i will shout it to the sky any chance i can take<3
And as a bonus, here's the hermit/trafficshipping collection i run on ao3, affectionately nicknamed The Body Count!! Its chock-full of incredible authors and writing, all of whom are my close friends, and its recently expanded to contain 60+ fics!! 60+!!!! INSANE. MY FRIENDS ARE INSANE AND I LOVE THEM PLEASE GO READ AND COMMENT ON THEIR WORKS BC THEY DESERVE THE ATTENTION :] THANKS FOR THE ASK AAAAAAAAAA OKAY BYE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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vilixxr · 15 days
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simon’s love (that swallows you whole)
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butcher!simon x gn!reader
tags: gore-ish, vague blood/knifeplay (metaphorical), borderline cannabalism, you're a florist yay
notes: a story between you and a simon that loves like he devours. + this is so heavily inspired from tender is the flesh by crashtestbunny, pls go read, it altered my brain chemistry i’m srs
wc: 799
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His time as a butcher has yet to leave him.
Even when he returns from the throes of war, back to a little shop in his hometown, he still remembers everything so vividly. His hands move in memory: Each cut, precise, at the bone, against the unwanted fat. Each vein along the cut he’ll remember by heart, until he lets the butcher knife drop with a dull thunk against the chopping board. He dresses and places every order in a bag, treating it with a kindness that he'll never use anywhere else.
It’s still the stale, unpleasant place he knows. A weird sense of belonging that goes along with it, even in the chilling depths of the storage room, or when he places himself at the front for patrons to shuffle up to. He realized he did belong there, to some degree; destined to be a butcher, blood permanently coating the creases of his hands.
And when you came along, you reminded him just how much of a butcher he can be.
You learned of the fear the first day you had met him. A florist around the area, hands clean of carnage and a light fragrance of lavender. It made its way through the shop, through to him, and he latched on before he could catch himself.
You were hesitant, almost frozen in your place while facing him, while he took the time to take you in. The potential you'd have, if your muscles weren't so stiff. The veins running down your arms in beautiful branches. Your heart that he could pierce through, watch it beat against his cutting board.
It was a brief moment, an interaction where he bore holes into your soul and you kept your eye on the way the grip on his knife would tighten and loosen in a terrifying rhythm. He could imagine you already, just like this. Something he could sink his teeth into. Tender, if he put in the work to chase you up the table he had prepared.
He cut the last piece for you, the knife meeting the board and resounding throughout the shop. Just like that, he soon prepared and handed you your order in a bag, and you were gone, leaving him with a "thank you" even softer than before. The lingering fragrance of lavender permeated the air still, leaving him to wonder if he had ever changed from his time spent as a teenager. Maybe, he really was destined to a butcher.
He must have retained too much of his job, even in his time away from it. Has to, as he can’t stop thinking of you.
Slowly, he'd let you into his space, even with the hunger he possessed that spikes when you approach. You were way too sweet, almost saccharine, he learned. You were the sugar shoved down his throat, and he couldn't avoid choking up every single time.
Gift-giving tried to make up for the distance you had kept up long before you had started this "thing" that the both of you had. It all starts with the flowers you sent. Bouquets, arranged to encapsulate everything you think he may be, did the talking for you. Way too perfect sets of warm oranges and pinks and especially red, the same he sees daily. You hand him the bouquet with delicate hands that shake, a silent declaration of love that you can't bring yourself to say. He doesn't miss the way your hands crack as they fold, light welts blooming at your wrists and down your forearms. Much prettier than your arrangement, spots that enhance the skin he yearns to peel off, reveal the tissue underneath. You smile, all teeth and no genuine happiness, and he licks his lips in return, an image of reds coating his teeth after having you between them.
Really, the bouquets felt like charity. They reeked of pity to him, like he was a puppy to coddle and call to rest to get him to stop growling at everyone who wasn't you. They tasted of pity, but he took them anyways. All the arrangements, full of flowers he didn't care to know the name of and the reds he dreamed of. He took them all, even if you had both known that they would be left to wilt on his kitchen countertop. He took those, and everything else you had.
He'd indulge your need to pity him, with all the "shouldn't have, pet"s and wry smiles, just on one condition of his own: He gets to open you up in return. Dissect you in his personal time, run his fingers along your arteries. You get to tell him that those flowers all remind you of him, and he'll soon get to feel your heart beat in his hands.
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stars n dots divider by cafekitsune
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citadelsanchez · 2 years
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Could you possibly do a longer comfort oneshot? Rick hears child y/n crying in her bed from a nightmare, and she ends up revealing that she’d been sa’d. He comforts her and talks to her that it wasn’t her fault, but like, how rick would..and he tells her he’ll be back in a second to tuck her in and goes and kills the one who did it? then comes back like nothing happened, tucks her, in, and tells her goodnight
I’m sorry that this is specific- if your uncomfortable with this that is perfectly okay and I understand.
Absolutely, I loved this idea! It's one of my fav that I've written so far, if not the favorite. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~ [TW: SA]
"Whatever, you old man. I am incapable of getting drunk. I wouldn't be talking to you right now if I were" Y/N slurs, jumping onto the bed and holding her arms outstretched.
Rick rolls his eyes quickly. "Yes sweetie, very convincing. You can definitely hold your weight" he responds, patting Y/N on the head.
"Riiiiick come on, I know you hate affection, and people in general and everything nice, but can we just cuddle?" Y/N asks, looking up hopefully.
Rick stands unwavering by the drunken stupor she was in. "No. Y-you need to sleep this off" he responds, pulling the covers over her body now.
She smiled in response, happy to be tucked in and given his attention in some way at least. She knew that deep down she'd changed his brain chemistry a little bit. He actually cared for her and things like this were why he couldn't deny it.
"Goodnight Y/N" he spoke as he looked at her face to see she had already passed out.
He walked slowly out of the room, closing the door behind him. Walking back to his garage, Rick pulled out a few tools to work on one of his unorthodox projects. As he was hammering a switch into his newly made accessory, he heard a faint weeping. Rick paused and looked around, frowning. He pulled out his emotion detecting device and scanned the walls of the house.
Okay, it's not any of the family, or Y/N. Where is the noise coming from?
He rummaged through a box on his shelf until he found a different device. Past Parallel Emotion Detector. It works by keeping track of emotions of those within the house from the past, back to the beginning of their lives. If an emotion one experiences is too strong or overbearing, it alerts the device to go off.
He looked onto the small screen to see a child- a little girl who looked to be about 8. That's not Beth or Summer. Holy shit. It's Y/N, he registered.
Rick shot a portal into the wall and stepped through, where he was met with the young Y/N in real time. She was sobbing frantically, with the blankets clutched up to her chest, sharp and muffled inhales breaking up the tears.
Rick walked very slowly towards her, until she turned to see him and widened her eyes a bit.
"H-hey it's okay, Y/N. What's wrong, why are you upset?" He asks.
"I-I-just, well, it's a lot. How do you know my name?" She questions, looking up at him with a mix of fear and wonder.
Rick bends down now to level with her on the side of the bed and give a weak smile.
"I'm Rick, I'm uh, from the future sweetie. We're-we're really good friends there."
"Oh" she says, still sniffling and uses the blanket to wipe her tears.
She's adorable, he thinks. He'd never tell the current Y/N that, but she has always been so sweet and lovely.
"S-so what's wrong? Why are you crying like this?" He asks again.
She shakes a bit as she stares up at Rick, deciding to trust him since he is gentle with her and seems so familiar to her somehow.
"H-he, my uncle, mom's br-brother, he uh-
Her eyes gloss over again and she struggles to get the words out.
Rick places a hand on the bed, listening intently. "What did he do, darling?"
Tears silently slipped from her eyes again now and she recounted it. "He.. he touched me, you know? An-and it didn't feel nice."
Rick stiffened as he realized the severity of the situation and his eyes blackened. Motherfucker. I had no idea Y/N had been through this, she's never told me.
He awkwardly raised a hand to gently pat Y/N on the head. Comforting has never really been his forte. "U-uh, Y/N I'm- I'm so sorry honey, it's not your fault. He's a piece of s- he's an awful person and you deserve better."
She sniffles quieter now. "Th-thank you. I haven't told momma yet. I-I don't know if-i-if I should."
"You should sweetheart, but not until you're ready. In the meantime, I'll- I'm gonna take care of it. He won't do it a-again, okay?" Rick ruffles her hair a little.
Her lips curve into a smile now as she wipes her eyes. "O-okay Rick. I believe you."
"I'll be right back, I'm gonna come back to-to um tuck you in okay?" Y/N nodded in response.
Satisfied that she'd calmed down now, but full of white rage, Rick stepped away from the bed and plugged a Location radar chip into his ear. When it beeped, he shot a portal open and went through.
There in a worn down recliner, lined on the floor with pizza boxes and take out dinners, was the bastard that did this to Y/N. The pathetic weakling that gets to call himself "family." Not for long.
"What the FUCK?" The man jumped backwards in the chair, too visibly lazy and cowardice to even stand upright from the shock of a stranger suddenly invading his home.
Rick felt his entire body pulse with anger. "You." He got as close to his face as possible before pulling his gun from his lab coat pocket and blasting the trigger.
The scene was left gory and violent, and Rick was satisfied. He whirred his clothing microchip and changed from the blood stained clothes to a fresh set of clean ones.
Stepping back in the portal, he sat down by Y/N's bedside once more. "Hey, he can't h-hurt you ever again now. I made sure of that," he spoke lightly.
Y/N reached for his hand, placing her tiny one on top of it. "Thank you Rick. You're like an alien guardian angel."
This got a laugh out of him, as he brought the blankets over her and made sure she was covered up.
"Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well."
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jays-nook · 3 months
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Watched the First 4 Episodes of the PJO Series, Here are My Thoughts:
Cast:
I absolutely love the cast!! They are just so perfect for their roles!! I've seen my fair share of clips and behind the scenes footage to know the chemistry between the actors and how perfectly the main trio embodies their characters, but actually seeing their acting and how well they fit together just makes sense in my brain!! They're all so small as well and adorable that it really puts it into perspective how young they truly are to be going through all of this and the things the characters go through as the books progress. It hurts but it's also endears you more to the actors and the characters.
Walker is just absolutely perfect as Percy. He's such a little shit and the way he delivers his lines, whether they're angry/emotional/sad or just comedic, is simply amazing!
"I am impertinent" THAT PART HAD ME WHEEZING FR
Although I don't have an issue with Lin Manuel Miranda as a person (I absolutely love his works and stuff) it does not make sense to cast him as Hermes, and that's just going off the elevator scene when he delivers the package! Like I honestly can't imagine this man as Luke's father :// It could've been better.
But the others are just great! Their energy is amazing and omg Mr. D was a blast! It's a much different portrayal than I was expecting since Mr. D is so chill and like aloof in the books, but seeing him yell and stuff at Percy to take on the quest just made me look at him in a new light!!
Filming/Aesthetics:
Every scene is shot so beautifully! And the choices they made with the places they add the music too!! Like the entire fight with the Minotaur being void of music was such a good choice. It just makes the entire scene so much more emotionally charged and tense while keeping the audience on the edge of their seat!! It was filmed so well and god it transported me to how it felt like when I read the books for the first time and went through that scene~
And omg the scene with Sally just sitting in the rain on the windowsill :(( That one was so soft and sad istg- any scene with Sally was just perfect, love her and the actress who did such a good job with her!!
Changes from the Books:
It's been around 5 or so?? years since I last read the books, so my recollection of what actually happened and what didn't was a bit fuzzy while watching the series but I was able to see how things changed. And so far, I don't mind the changes that much, like yes some had me staring at the screen like "hm" because they wetn a different way than I was expecting, but overall not too bad!
I did enjoy the scenes with Medusa, I liked having Percy wanting to hear her out and trusting to follow her inside because of what Sally had told him when he was a kid. I liked the conversations between Percy and her in the kitchen and even when she was explaining her side of the story to the trio. It was such a good way to present the scene, to show her resentment of both Athena and Posiedon, and also to show how she interacts with Percy to lure him in and play on his trusting and albeit naive nature at that point in the quest.
I did see people talking about episode 8 and the big reveal tho and I'm both excited to see it but also wary of the change they added cause I've seen a lot of mixed reactions. Some prefer the book version, some the version in the series.
General Thoughts:
I'm honestly enjoying the series, it's exciting seeing it all come to life and the dynamics and just sitting there in anticipation of what's to come.
I'm currently watching it with my big sis and let me tell y'all it's so much fun!! She hasn't read the books so all she knows is purely from when we watched the movies together a long time ago so she doesnt remember much (but unfortunately the big reveal at the end isn't going to be a surprise for her). I'm having the time of my life being a little shit and laughing at her confusion or whenever she'd start yelling "WHAT" at the screen like when Sally dissapeared HAHAHA she keeps turning to me and trying to come to conclusions and theories for things while I just smile or shake my head at outrageous ones. I am excited to see her reactions to certain scenes in the other books, especially when it comes to a certain someones end in the last book (she does not like him rn so I'm like 👀 rn to see if that might change along the way).
Uncle Rick did such a good job with the series so far and I'm excited to watch the rest of it, especially now that news of it being renewed for season 2 came out HEHEHE
And thats it for today! I'll be watching the rest of the series at some point this week and will be sharing the rest of my thoughts then. Thank u for reaching the end haha. Till then, have a good day folks and stay tuned! <3
*Last 4 episodes here*
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cody-paranatural · 5 months
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I love how Cody has a vampire dad, werewolf mom and probably a ghost brother. The normalest boy ever. Can't wait for Max's reaction when he finds out about literally any of this
WORLD’S NORMALEST BOY 💜 (also sorry but this is once again just going to be me rambling about pnat)
I love Cody and his exceedingly supernatural normal family <3 To be honest the Shrike reveal was literally EVERYTHING to me. Like i had this theory since i read chapter 7 and seeing it be finally 100% confirmed felt SO GOOD. I’ve been craving more Shrike lore for FOREVER and I am so happy we learned a bit more about her. I am also kinda obsessed with their family dynamic. I am probably going to be thinking about it until the sun explodes. Like it’s genuinely so similar to what I imagined their relationship would be and it’s great.
It does make me wonder about Shrike and Jean’s deal. Did Jean know that shrike had a husband and son???? It seems very unlikely. I wonder how will Jean react when he finds out just how much his mentor hid from him. I’ve been dreaming of at least one Jean and Cody scene ever since I subscribed to the “Shrike is Cody’s mom theory”. And now that it’s no longer a theory it’s hitting me just how plausible that actually is. Like they’re both currently looking for Shrike there’s no way they just won’t interact. And I am so excited for that I hope Jean tells Cody a bit about his mom. I hope we get to learn more about Jean in the process. And learning about parts of Shrike he had no idea about will be good for him I think. He definitely put her on a pedestal of sorts when he was younger, and that’s probably still the case to some extent. He’s been fruitlessly chasing her for 6 years that’s got to have affected him in some way.
And it does seem like Davy truly went off the deep end after Shrike got werewolfed??? At least that’s how i see it. Cody looks around the same age in that photo as he was when Davy cut out his heart. And we know literally next to nothing about her, but i can’t imagine Shrike would’ve been fine with Davy taking their son’s heart and putting him in a vault. And i am not suggesting that Davy would’ve been a good dad with Shrike around I think he still would’ve SUCKED. It’s more like Shrike kept him in line a bit and losing his wife probably made him even more obsessed with controlling Cody (ESPECIALLY with the possibility that PJ is his dead son. Like it doesn’t excuse ANYTHING he did I still hate him with the intensity of a million suns which will hopefully turn him into a smoldering pile of vampiric ash. But I do like getting to see how his mind works)
And speaking of that vault. Jesus Fucking Christ. I KNEW that line about Cody’s room having no windows and no escape routes was suspicious but I wasn’t expecting him to straight up live in a vault????? That whole house feels like the world’s loneliest and most depressing prison. There are cameras LITERALLY EVERYWHERE. I talked about it in my little Cody analysis but god. He really isn’t allowed any privacy whatsoever. It really does feel like the whole house was designed to make you as miserable as possible.
OH AND SAME <3 Max’s thoughts on literally anything ever are always so much fun. And this would mean more Max and Cody interactions would make me so happy. Fun fact about me is that Cody and Max is one of my favorite paranatural pairing, platonically and romantically. They haven’t interacted much but listen. It would be so fun it would literally be the best ever. Max defending Cody’s honor when Davy said that Cosy is “the closest he’ll ever see to his reflection” changed my brain chemistry. “Cody. He’s not like you at all.” literally changed lives (my life).
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