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#I just have my expectations at a certain level and if they meet them the why complain ?
multifandom--mess · 3 days
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Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.3
part 1 | part 2
here's some fic recs for youuu (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ definitely took me way too long to add a part 3 to this but whatever, enjoy a variety of fics in no particular order that i've read the last few months that deserve to be shared and enjoyed ♡
old-fashioned divinity candy [series, ongoing]
Explicit, 115k+ | the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham
Like a Lucid Dream
Explicit, 75k | In the days following Will's fateful fall from the bluff, Molly Graham begins to understand the extent of her ignorance regarding Hannibal and Will's relationship. The discovery of her husband's deceit leads her to seek refuge and escape in their cottage in the mountains. There's only one problem: she's not the only one who is looking for a place to hide.
you swallow my heart and flee (but i want it back now)
Explicit, 65k | After they killed Francis Dolarhyde, Will was certain he pulled Hannibal off the cliff with him, but when he wakes up, he’s still on the edge of the bluff, surrounded by FBI agents and paramedics. It’s apparent Hannibal got away safely, and Will is put on the job to help find him. When Will finds Hannibal’s journal in his old cell, filled with entries about, and drawings of, himself, he sneaks it into the waistband of his pants and takes it home. It forces Will into dealing with his own feelings, and figuring out what he wants. Will can only hope the journal gives him the answers he seeks.
And the Winter Sheds His Grief in Snow
Mature, 4.5k | On a car ride, Will spots something... abnormal. And it somehow breaks the normality of their relationship, in ways neither of them expected.
According to Winston
Mature, 7.9k | Winston this, Winston that — everyone in Will Graham’s life is now privy to his new stray, the lucky seven of his pack of dogs. It comes as a surprise when Winston isn’t what anyone expected, and this new light sets a backdrop to Hannibal’s carefully manipulated plans to make Will into his full and whole self.
Mundane Madness
Explicit, 104k | After a traumatizing experience, Will decides that maybe he deserves a shot at a normal, healthy life. It just might be nice to have Hannibal at his side too.
Leviathan
Mature, 24k | Three years after they fell into the Atlantic, Hannibal and Will have made a new life for themselves in the sun-soaked Douro Valley. But old hurts and unaddressed fears lurk beneath the idyllic pretense, threatening to consume all semblance of peace.
Between Black and White: Crimson
Explicit, 9.6k | After surviving the fall and undergoing a proper treatment, Will and Hannibal moved to a place from the past to start their future together. Till death knocked at their door...again.
Suffer A Sea Change
Mature, 29k | Hannibal meets Will, a fisherman with something oceanic lingering behind his eyes, one stormy summer in coastal France.
Omnipotence Paradox
General Audiences, 14k | The trap springs too quickly in Florence. Will and Hannibal adapt.
There's Something So Lonesome About You
Explicit, 90k | When will Graham is released from the BSHCI, he realizes that there is little left for him with the FBI. He packs up the essentials (and Winston, of course), and leaves. Hannibal has to deal with the sudden loss of Will, and he is not very happy about it.
Leila Isabella
Mature, 11k | Will has been utterly miserable in the long months since Hannibal turned himself in, but he gave Hannibal an unexpected gift in the last hours before everything fell apart.
Hidden Place
Not Rated, 5.5k | Two years after the fall, Will and Hannibal share a heated evening in Cuba.
More Myself Than I Am
Explicit, 9k | Everyone has a soulmate. Someone they will connect with on such an intimate level that they are like one mind in two bodies. It comes on the cusp of adulthood, a shared link between two minds. It will start with feelings, emotions shared across the connection. Some people claim senses; smell and sound. Those who are thoroughly, intensely intertwined can claim to send their very thoughts towards each other, although it’s generally considered bad luck to use the connection to find each other sooner than you are meant to. It is a wonderful thing, to know that no matter who you are or what you’ve done, somebody out there will understand you. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.
In the Darkest Recess
Mature, 12.7k | As a child, Hannibal has problems making friends. A therapist gives him a doll to practice social skills on. Hannibal calls him Will, and quickly becomes obsessed with his new best friend. He never leaves it, even when he begins to hear Will's voice in his head, promising that he will never leave Hannibal, as long as Hannibal is willing to give him 'life to live'. Great love, after all, requires great sacrifice.
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m0chisenpai · 23 days
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Hi! Can you do a Armand x Fem!reader x Louis? She would be an assistant of Daniel’s. They have sorta a thing for her but are trying to ease up because she’s not as open to the whole camp thing or lowkey doesn’t believe them.
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off the record
˚。⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand
in which Daniel neglected to coach you how to deal with the behind the scenes of the creative process
author note: I had too much fun writing this, I love the idea of this trio so much
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There takes a certain level of thick skin to work for Daniel Molloy. He wasn't a terrible boss. Just a difficult old man with extremely particular needs and ways he worked. But when he found you, you were an intern with well regarded credentials and grades, but according to your counselor you were headstrong and outspoken.
He accepted your application instantly and by the next year you were his official, and most longstanding, assistant. You juggled his interviews and meetings with editors, and only recently have you begun to manage his doctors appointments.
You traveled with him, it was a non-negotiable that you were to come and expenses were covered, but Dubai was the last thing you'd expected. You’d been nearly to all the states, but for Daniel’s health anything out the country was once in a while and planned carefully.
The first night of the interview you aren’t present. Daniel can tell when he stops by your room, how your eyes droop. Your feet shuffle to greet him at the door.
He lets you sleep, but he won't say its out of care, that he's filled with guilt for dragging you into a penthouse of supernatural apex killers. After that you are a fly on the wall just as he always instructed you to be.
Beside him, eyes down, fingers moving and taking notes when he mutters something to you.
Louis asks who you are on the third night, "I never took you for a man who needs help Daniel." You won't admit, but your heart picks up, but you keep yor eyes on the computer screen and let Daniel respond for you.
"Not an intern, she's one of the few ones who didn't run crying after a week working for me."
Your lips turn up at this, one of the few moments he would ever compliment you.
"She truly is like you." His eyes must be on you again, but a shiver washes dwn your spine. Like someones nail ghosts the skin on your back, trailing down your spine. And another hand, caresses the back of your neck.
"Stay out out my mind," you mumble.
"My apologies, just wanted to know about our surprise second guest." Now you dare to look up at him. Ghosts, goblins, vampires werewolves were for shows pandering toward a female audience that wanted to drool over men too beautiful and perfect to ever enter their mundane lives.
You scoff and return your focus to the notes in front of you. "Save the immortal hack for Daniel Mr Du Lac."
Your skin crawls at the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, and in that cocky drawl offers another apology.
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"Mr Du Lac and his companion would like to dine with you."
You assume it's in regards to the interviews. You bring your compuer and personal notepad along with Daniels. But what you are met with are two wine glasses side by side paired with the men on the couch, one sits in front of them.
Their gzes are unblinking as you enter, setting your things and carefully crossing one leg over the other.
"I'm sorry we are meeting so late, or would it be early sir."
"Call me Louis, the pleasure is mine. My companion Armand wanted to join our meeting this evening."
Armand creeps you out, how his golden eyes stare you, analyzing you. Trying to convince you of this facade. You'd prefer it if it were just Louis and you. You can manage being alone with the latter.
"Daniel tells us you think none of this to be real."
"It's true. I find the supernatural charade boring," you pick up the yellow pad and pen. "But I'm not paid to to dig any deeper than he asks me to."
"You weren't able to join the first interview because too were tired. I could hear your heart the entire time, you didn't sleep. Kept tossing and turning the entire night."
"An easy observation, can we focus on-"
"Thoughts were racing an awful lot too," Louis looks up in fake thought "is any of this worth it, why waste my time on a rich hack. I could be back home."
Once again you cut him off Pitching the bridge of your nose, "another keen observation please try and do better, now in session 2-"
"Your father took your mother here." Armand speaks up now and your heart stops, "those earrings she gifted you were from here. In fact in your dreams the previous evening you dreamt of taking them both here. You started planning it with the money that will come out of this interview."
Every word accelerates your heart, it makes Louis smile "Careful cher, your heart might beat out your chest."
Your hands shake as they swipe the glass of wine in front of you, you take two large gulps. Clutching it for comofrt.
"My apologies, I did not wish to cause any distress."
"I'm sorry, I need a moment." You leave your things behind and return to your room that night. The next morning a letter from the two sits by breakfast along with your things in a neat pile.
Eerily it is exactly what you were thinking of yesterday morning, it is french toast made from the fluffiest brioche. With a side of bacon, turkey, you hated pork. Armand asks to speak to you while Daniel rests along with Louis.
Once you eat and shower quickly putting on a sweater to combat the chill you find him in the study.
He sits, almost like he is waiting.
"It was not our intent to alarm you" his eyes follow you as you sit.
"You are more than qualified to work for any other reporter on your own, yet you work for...him. Why?"
"He was the only one to look pass the observations of my advisor, I wasn''t going to be just an errand girl. Not too many publishers cared for my opinions."
"You didn't believe Mr.Molloy was interviewing a vampire yet you still followed him here."
"It's not my book. I'm a fly on the wall."
"But if it were your story?"
You pause in thought, and stare into those unsettling eyes after a moment. "I would have interviewed Claudia had she survived. I feel her story needs to be heard."
You answer more of his prodding questions till you return to your room for lunch. A wrap o some sort with nuts and fruits on the side. And a pile of little girls diaries with white gloves and a not to handle with caution.
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Armand won't voice his affinity for you as Louis does. You won't admit the way his eyes settle on you as you enter the room makes you preen, makes your heart fuzzy and your head feel like it wants to float away.
The interview goes on tonight with Armand joining. They once more talk about Lestat. You try and fight your eyes from rolling as you read through an email.
'If I hear his name one more time I might gouge my ears out.'
'Don't torture yourself like that cher.' Your eyes look to him, but he remains focused on Daniel, listening to Armand. How does one multitask like that? Two conversations at once must be hard.
'Years of practice.'
'And whats with all this chere nonsense?'
'Would you prefer your name instead?'
'No' your cheeks warm in embarassment "I...enjoy it."
"Get me some pictures of this theatre." Daniel's instructions get your attention, "and whatever memorabilia you can find." You nod typing that onto your list of many other things to do.
'I will help you with that tonight, after the session I've arranged for dinner tonight' Armand now stares at you and that damned feeling begins to creep back in 'no pork as per your request.'
Daniel coughs obnoxiously getting the elder vampires attention. "You were saying?" This time when you look down, a smile only the pair can detect makes its way upon your lips.
They stare at you less, leave your mind alone as per your request. And indulge in your blunt questions. Each night you find yourself slowly feeling less discomfort. You almost wish you could stay, you think to yourself one night now dining with the two looking at pictures of Louis in his younger years.
He sits beside you, smiling as he watches your hands carefully hold the photos from their time in France.
"No fair, Paris is top of my bucket list."
"I'd be more than happy to take you," Louis gives you that smirk which you roll your eyes in playfulness at.
"Sure you will."
"We could take you anywhere you would like" Armand states.
"Ibizia?"
"Gladly."
"Bali."
"Sure."
Even though you still doubt their supernatural nature. You indulge them. Unknown that just as much as you have them wrapped around your finger, they have you caught in a web.
And they'll patiently wait for you to realize that there are some beings whose hearts you should never toy with. For the results afterwards, are eternal.
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
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Gareth is sick and tired of Eddie refusing to admit that he has a crush on Steve Harrington.
At first, Gareth had just brushed it off when Eddie seemed so adamant about interrogating Steve and his involvement with his new lost sheep. He had done something similar when he meet Gareth's few middle school friends the year before. But Eddie seems to think that one meeting isn't enough and insists that's why he always needs to rush out to talk to Steve and invade his space when he picks up the kids from Hellfire.
Gareth sees right through it. Eddie had come out to him a while ago saying he was definitely some form of queer after Gareth caught him making out with a guy in the Hideout bathroom. And he was more than okay with it.
But he is not okay with the way Eddie refuses to tell him - his best friend - that he has a crush on Steve.
"Then why do you always go to Family Video during his shifts and not buy anything, huh? Plus, you know that you never call anyone 'big boy.' Yes, I heard that when you were flirting with him after our last Hellfire campaign."
Eddie just rolls his eyes and dramatically flings out his arms. "I'm making sure the kids are safe with him."
Gareth snorts in response to that bullshit, and Eddie gives him an unimpressed look.
"Well, I'm going to Family Video to get a movie for my mom, and I would appreciate-"
"Yeah, I'll give you a ride," Eddie interrupts, looking way too happy to offer.
Gareth sighs but doesn't push it. He really needs to ride, and if the only reason Eddie's offering is to give him an excuse to be there... Gareth will take it and hopefully not be expected to pitch in for gas.
A quick ride over later, Gareth is almost displeased to see Steve behind the counter, eyes lighting up when he sees Eddie. Those two are absolutely ridiculous, and if Eddie would pull his head out of his ass for once, then Gareth could finally tell him that Steve likes him too.
He lets them lean into each other and practically giggle over anything the other has to say until he finds his movie and goes to the counter. That's when he finally notices Robin Buckley there staring at the two with a mix of fondness and irritation. Gareth is sure that he has the same look on his face.
He shoots her a knowing look, and Robin's eyes widen in an expression of hopeless, those two. Gareth gestures between the two and rolls his eyes - absolutely.
Then, they both look at each other in realization. Gareth knows Robin is cool and a bit awkward from their interactions in band classes, but he didn't know that she was that cool. And that she definitely knows about whatever thing is between those two.
Robin levels him with the same look, staring him up and down before finally seeming to settle on that he's cool too and also knows. They both kind of nod at each other in agreement that certain things need to be unspoken, but they absolutely need to rant about the two idiots.
They both start talking at the same time.
"Oh my gosh, I thought it was just me-"
"You have no idea how long I've needed to talk to someo-"
They stop and laugh a bit, both looking toward the boys, but they don't even register the interaction especially since Steve is tucking a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear while Eddie stares at him with heart eyes. Love is gross.
Robin takes Gareth's tape and goes through the process of ringing him up. "It's like they both are oblivious to the other's feelings."
"They are! Eddie won't even admit his feelings to himself, and I've been pushing it," Gareth complains, pinching his nose. He thinks he might feel a tension headache starting to form from those two.
Robin thuds her fingers on the counter in thought then slides Gareth's tape back at him. "Eddie's the jealous type, right?"
Gareth nearly scoffs. Jealous can be a bit of an understatement when it comes to him. "Of course."
Robin gets a grin that kind of scares Gareth to the core. She leans over the counter and whispers, "Then, I need you to flirt with Steve."
His jaw absolutely drops. "No way. Eddie would murder me!"
"And why would he if he has no feelings for him?" Robin asks with a bit of a manic twinkle in her eye that reminds him of Eddie.
Shit, she's right. It's definitely a plan that will work and finally get Eddie to admit how he feels... but also could get Gareth killed and banned from ever talking to Eddie again.
He glances over at the two and notices the way Eddie is blushing and trying to hide behind his hair as Steve stares on proudly. Gareth sighs. "Okay, I'll confront him one more time, and if he doesn't admit it after this little show, then I'll go through with the plan."
Robin sticks her hand across the counter and Gareth shakes on it. "Eddie should come in around six tomorrow during our shift. Come back before then with your tape or something as an excuse and have at it with the dingus here. But, you'll probably only be able to chat with him because I haven't seen him flirt with someone in a while - not since your dingus showed up. That should be enough to set Eddie off though, right?"
"Absolutely."
Robin laughs and loudly says, "Pleasure doing business with you. We hope to see you back at Family Video soon."
This startles Steve and Eddie out of the trance they put each other in, and Gareth watches with full annoyance as Eddie goes all puppy dog eyes as he sadly says goodbye to Steve.
In the parking lot, Gareth says, "You absolutely-"
And Eddie is quick to interrupt him, "Don't have feelings for him!"
Oh yeah. The plan is on.
-:-:-:-:-:-
The next day with only a few minutes to spare before Eddie shows up, Gareth returns with his tape and a pulse that is way too high for his own good. When Robin sees him come through the door, she tells Steve that she's taking her break and shoots Gareth a thumbs up.
God, what has he gotten himself into?
He walks up to the counter and slides the tape across. "Hey, I need to return this."
Steve smiles at him politely but frowns when it doesn't ring up.
"I think Robin didn't ring it up for me yesterday. I don't remember paying," Gareth confesses. This is probably yet another part of Robin's genius plan to force them to have a longer interaction.
Steve looks him up and down for a moment then says, "Hey, I know you. You're Gareth. Eddie talks about you all the time, but I didn't know you knew Robin."
And woah, he did not expect Steve Harrington to know a single thing about him. Honestly, he's a bit flattered and even begins to blush a bit. "Yeah, we've had a few band classes together."
"That's cool. What do you play?" Steve presses on, leaning into the counter not in the flirtatious way he does with Eddie, but Gareth thinks as a means to make him more comfortable.
"Drums in the jazz band," he readily admits.
Steve's eyebrows furrow in thought. "I didn't know Hawkins even had a jazz band. I'll have to come see you play sometime."
"Yeah?" Gareth asks in disbelief and a bit of awe. It's Steve Harrington for Christ's sake. Of course, he's going to get a bit taken aback by the fact that he wants anything to do with him. He feels that damn blush again and barely registers the bell to the door ringing behind him.
"Yeah, man," Steve says with a smile. "Sounds cool as shit."
Someone clears their throat behind them and Gareth jumps a bit. He turns quickly to find Eddie fixing him with a look of hurt mixed with rage at the sight of Gareth leaning toward Steve with a damn blush on his face. He's not into him, but he can definitely admit that Steve just has some type of pull to him. But Eddie definitely does not see it that way.
"Gareth, can I talk to you outside?"
Gareth nods and doesn't utter a sound. Oh, he's going to kill him. He's about to die. He absolutely should not have gone through with this plan.
He wanders outside toward Eddie's van and lets Eddie talk first.
"What the fuck was that in there?" Eddie asks with anger in his tone but hurt in his eyes.
Gareth just shrugs in response and waits for Eddie to finally confess that he has feelings for Steve and he needs to back off.
Only, he doesn't. He just stands there staring at Gareth, and for some reason it pisses him off so he pushes. "Just thought that if you didn't have feelings for him then I could take a shot at him."
Eddie's mouth opens and closes until he finally huffs, "Great for you. You have a better chance anyways so good luck to you."
Eddie flips him off and starts heading to the driver's side of his van, but Gareth runs and gets there first. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Eddie crosses his arms but keeps a scary tension in his shoulders. "I mean that you're not the town freak, so you can have at him!"
Gareth scoffs and digs a finger into his chest. "That's why you won't admit you have feelings for him! You don't think he likes you!"
Eddie's arms fling wide open. "Of course, he doesn't like me! But I'm not about to cry over some bullshit feelings that will never be returned, so let me just have whatever it is between me and him and not have to put this label on how it makes me feel because I don't want to fucking deal with it! Let me live in sweet ignorance!"
"And that's where you're wrong," someone who is not Gareth says.
"Christ!" both Eddie and Gareth say startling back.
Steve stands in front of them with his arms crossed, but he only stares at Eddie. "What was that about bullshit feelings? Because I don't know about you, but I definitely like you."
Eddie's face flushes a bit red as he steps closer to Steve, unable to stay out of his space whenever he's nearby. "My feelings for you aren't bullshit at all. They're just fucking scary as hell, man."
Steve laughs softly and steps into Eddie's space. "You don't think that I've been scared, too? I would've made a move on you weeks ago if you would've said something."
"Well, I'm saying something now," Eddie says with a big smile.
Gareth really doesn't think he should be witnessing this.
Steve's eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips as he huskily says, "You sure are."
Yeah, Gareth has had enough of this shit. "Hey, guys?" Gareth says, interrupting them and ignoring Eddie's hell of a death glare. "Sorry to ruin your moment, but I'm still here. Plus, you're in a public parking lot."
Eddie still glares at him, but Steve nods. "Thanks, Gareth." He turns back to Eddie. "He's right, but luckily for you, I know of this really nice breakroom that has a door that locks. Plus, I was waiting for you to come so I could take my break."
Eddie's sour look drops from his face, and he practically starts buzzing with excitement. "Let's not waste another moment then."
Gareth is truly happy for them, but he doesn't think he ever wants to hear them interact again. But on their way back, Eddie stops and says something then runs back to Gareth and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, man. Thank you for dealing with me, but if I ever see you flirt at Steve again..."
Gareth pulls away from the hug and shoves Eddie's shoulders. "I wasn't flirting! I was talking to him to make you jealous and finally admit your feelings."
"Then what the hell was that blush!"
"He's like royalty! How else am I supposed to act when I find out he knows my name!"
Eddie takes a moment to really stare at Gareth then he gets a weird smile on his face. "You know, Steve knows this guy named Will..."
Gareth shoves Eddie again to cut him off. "Have fun making out with your boyfriend."
Eddie smiles widely then turns to run back to the store. Gareth smiles and watches as the two loudly laugh when they both try to squeeze through the doorway at the same time.
Then, Gareth looks around and realizes that by having his mom drop him off that he has no ride. He sighs and heads back to the store. Maybe he and Robin can celebrate, and she can tell him more about this Will while he waits...
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ineadhyn · 9 months
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One of Astarion's most interesting scenes to me is the one in the flop house where we meet Dalyria and Petras. So, obviously, I felt the need to analyze it.
Astarion's behaviour switches the very moment he recognises his siblings. He has been snappy and theatrical before, but this now feels different. More raw. His posture changes, he bends forward in a pose like he's ready to attack. The moment he sees them, he enters fight mode.
And indeed, he does attack. He immediately goes for Petras, aiming for the weak spots he knows, his intelligence. It's bite or be bitten. If he doesn't do it (a choice you can make in his origin run for example) Petras does just the same, insulting Astarion using his known flaws: his arrogance, his egoism, claiming Astarion is all talk. This tells so much about Astarions life with them.
Dalyria is a bit calmer, she seems to care about both of them, at least enough that she doesn't want to see either of them killed. Dalyria does believe Cazador's claim of freeing them at least on surface level. She can be convinced to trust Astarion when he says he'll free them. She wants to be free. Asking why Astarion would come back if he was free, there is a certain longing in her voice. She's also the one telling Astarion about the ritual place, hoping Astarion might actually be able to free them, or at least not kill Petras.
Still the aggression in the room is not only between Astarion and Petras. Astarion also snaps at Dalyria when she's barely said anything. "That's not a way to welcome back a brother, Dal." The three of them are like dogs in the kennels of a dog fighting ring, barking at the sight of each other. Trained to compete and not giving each other an inch. You can imagine what it must have been like sharing one bedroom.
Then Astarion does his theatrical "Didn't you miss me?" Did they? Probably as much as Astarion pities them. A bit, because they've known each other for so long, but not enough to go out of their way. Just after saying he pities them, Astarion dreams about completing the ritual (which includes sacrificing them). Mostly I see the "Didn't you miss me" as Astarion wanting to make a confident first impression on them. Although it's too late, because his first instinct was to pull up his usual defences when interacting with his siblings: snapping at them.
And then Astarion actually gets physically aggressive and burns Petras. This is new. Petras didn't expect this. He says "What the hells happened to you, Astarion?" In combination with the other spawn scene when they call Astarion the runt, that never put up a fight, this paints a clear picture: Astarion has never been physically aggressive during his time with Cazador. Probably because he didn't have the means. He was simply too weak, being tortured more than any of the others. Petras talks about eating rats and dogs, Astarion got rats and bugs (he says that when talking about the bite with Tav). Also of course being broken into submission by being sealed into the tomb for the one time he didn't obey. (Worthy to mention that even then Astarion did not fight, he ran.)
Now that Astarion has some power for the first time, he uses it. And holy damn can I understand why he wants more. How good it must feel to be able to defend himself with more than words for the first time. This bit of power makes him say "I am not afraid of anything anymore."
It's enough for him to say "I am going to stop Cazador." A thing none of the spawn expects of him. Astarion would never rebel against the master. Cazador himself doesn't believe it until his last moment. They were all wrong about Astarion. Cazador indeed never broke him.
Also, pay attention to the leaning forward pose. Astarion does that on multiple occasions. It's his "my instinct screams to fight and defend myself"-pose.
(I am not entirely sure if "do not slouch before me" is also referring the same pose, or if it's more of an instinct to bow or cower. But that's for another day.)
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romanoffsdarling · 11 months
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Later Never Comes
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Pairing: CEO!Silver-Fox!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your love for her knew no bounds, but there’s only so long you can hold on— only so many empty promises you can stand— before you finally have to let go. Before you finally realize that later may never become real.
Word Count: 4,779
Warnings: G!P Wanda, legal age gap, brief oral (R receiving), dirty (and slightly possessive) talk, mommy kink, slightly rough sex, neglect, and angst (with a bittersweet ending). 18+, Minors DNI.
Author’s Note: I know I promised a second part to Summertime Sadness and Time To Say (Goodbye), but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I hope you can forgive me!
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Great love always ends in tragedy.
That’s the saying, right? A stupid one if you had anything to say about it. What’s so great about love if it only ends in heartbreak? If you don’t end up with the person that makes your entire being thrum? If everything that had once been so colorful is suddenly black-and-white due to their absence?
Is the love great due to the story? To the emotions, the events, that occur throughout its long winded saga? Or is it great because it was doomed from the start? Because, even though it’d end one way, two people were still willing to fight the odds, to fight fate, even if they’d never end up winning.
You’re not sure, nor do you care, because there’s no way a love of that kind could be anything except terrible— except bone-chillingly agonizing in the way you’d have to figure out how to move on without it. Figure out how to be without the person that made everything make sense, that made you feel like the person you were always meant to be.
Even if it’s been years since you’ve seen her, years since you’ve felt her lips against yours, an elegantly lithe body pressed to your own, and the sweet scent of sandalwood and lavender mixed perfectly in your nose, you haven’t been able to figure that out. Haven’t been able to get her out of your system, no matter how much you may try.
How could you? When you’ve loved, and been loved by, Wanda Maximoff?
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[Past]
“I’m just saying she’s been interested to meet you since she saw our group picture from Fiji.” Your best friend, Agatha, relayed, jovially leading you towards the small, yet upscale, café that Wanda Maximoff— CEO of Scarlet Entertainment— agreed to meet you. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, sweetie. Especially one that came about due to my own propensity to lose bets with that witch.”
Your brow furrows. “I’m just not sure what exactly this meeting is supposed to be about. I just graduated college, I barely have any experience under my belt.”
“But you have me as a mentor,” she rebukes, a small smirk on her lips. “And that’s all that you need to get into Wanda’s head.”
“Ah, yes.” You roll your eyes, amusement welling within your chest. “How could I forget about your age-old rivalry?”
“Don’t phrase it like that. Makes me sound old.” Agatha bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes narrowed.
“And mentor doesn’t?”
“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. “That makes me sound wise.”
“And what does wisdom come from again?”
You’re just able to dodge the swat directed at your arm, a bright smile tugging your lips upward, as you finally enter the quaint café— the aromatic smell of coffee, a hint of cinnamon, and something slightly citrusy, hits you all at once. A combination that shouldn’t have worked as well it did.
Once you placed your order— a simple coffee with your usual additions— you turned back to Agatha with an expectant expression. “Anything I should know about this meetings, Ags?”
She shakes her head, tendrils of brown hair escaping the haphazard bun she had thrown them in. “You’re here.” Agatha hands you the drink the barista had just put beside you, a wane smile on her lips. “That’s the important part to achieve for any date.”
Your steps stutter, nearly causing you to trip into a nearby table. “W-What?” Widened eyes meet Agatha’s unaffected one, a certain level of calmness that you found irritating. “What do you mean date? I thought this was a meeting?”
Agatha waves her hand. “Lunch meeting, lunch date. Means the same thing in the end.” She shoulders her purse, clearly not planning on staying any longer than she has to. “You’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a catch. Maximoff would have to be a bigger idiot than I think she already is if she lets you go.”
Before you’re able to respond, Agatha places a chaste kiss to your cheek, offers one last cheeky wink, and saunters her way out of the café, leaving you completely alone. You’re honestly tempted to just abandon ship and get out of dodge— you weren’t good on dates, let alone blind dates. Something your best friend is well aware of, and would definitely be getting in an earful about this later.
However, before you’re able to make a concrete decision on your exit strategy, a husky voice speaks up from behind you.
“Are you Y/N?”
The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen stood in front of you when you turned around: long auburn hair, speckled with the beginning signs of gray, paired perfectly with the sharp emerald green of her gaze. An elegantly lithe body, encased in a form-fitting suit, tailored made to enhance every perfect curve, relaxed in a way that almost seemed arrogant— if it was for the confidence that exudes from her very being.
“Yes.” Your brain finally catches up with you, remembering the question she had asked. “Y/N.” You hold out your hand for her to shake. “Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A small smile catches full lips, a slender hand grasping your own in a firm shake. “Wanda Maximoff.” Green eyes trail down your body. “And, trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”
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The months that followed the blind date went by in a blur. You could honestly say that you’ve never met anyone else like Wanda Maximoff— a woman that personified ice and fire. Watching her work— whether it be as you’re lounged on her large leather sectional, laptop balanced on her lap as slender fingers gently stroke your back, or she’s pacing back and forth with her phone pressed to her ear; voice dripping with barely concealed annoyance, underlined by a calm collectiveness that never failed to make you swoon— was an art form in itself, but being able to see the woman that appeared at the end of the day?
Where an icy facade of professionalism melts into warm smile and gentle eyes. Sharp words being replaced by sweet nothings and gentle humming.
In Wanda’s arms you’ve found a place you never even knew you were missing— home. You had a couple relationships in the past, but none of them made you feel the way Wanda does; all paling in comparison to the beautiful Sokovian.
The one thing you hadn’t expected upon beginning to date the older woman was how insatiable she was— not that you were complaining— but Wanda needed to have you as often as she could. Taking you the bedroom of your apartment, the various rooms in her penthouse, in her office within Scarlet Entertainment, hell even in the back of a limo on the way to an event. Wanda needed to have you and you needed to have her right back.
Another little thing you’ve learned about her? Or, you should say, not so little? The Sokovian sported an extra appendage that had quickly become your new best friend— not that you were going to tell Agatha that— who seemed to want you as much as Wanda did.
Which is how you found yourself where you are now— on your back, thighs clamped around Wanda’s head, as she thoroughly ate you out on the couch of her office.
“Yes.” You arch sharply, a sob being torn from your throat as Wanda’s tongue plunges even deeper into you. Your girlfriend hums happily at the sound, the vibrations sending a shockwave across your clit, and another wave of wetness gushes out of you— something that Wanda is all too happy to lap up. She had told you on more than one occasion, after she spent hours upon hours between your thighs, that you beat out even the finest of wines to her. “Please. I need you.”
With clear reluctance to leave, Wanda pulls back and easily settles on top of you. Lips and chin shining lewdly in the dim lighting of her office, darkened emerald eyes sparkling even brighter.
“You taste great, detka.” She lowers her head, offering her tongue for you to suck on. Giving you a taste of yourself, mixed intoxicatingly with her own natural one. “Could spend hours eating up your perfect pussy, but that’s not what you want, huh?” She jerks her hips, rubbing her cock against your wetness. “You want mommy to be inside you, right? Want her to stretch you out and make you scream?” Another roll of her hips causes you to arch, a breathless gasp leaving you, but Wanda doesn’t relent. “Answer me, detka. Be my good girl and I’ll give you what you crave. What do you want mommy to do?”
“Fuck me.” The cry is practically wrenched from your chest, a deep felt plea for her to just plunge into you and ruin you for anyone else. Not that she hasn’t been able to accomplish that already. “I want you to slam your cock into my pussy and make me yours, mommy. I want your cock to make my pussy its own, to shape me in its image.”
A deep, almost rumbling, snarl erupts from Wanda in response, her hips snapping forward and you’re finally filled; stretched out so fucking perfectly, an obscene slurp echoed across the room the moment Wanda’s hips met your own. She hadn’t made you cum with her mouth, but you had been so close, she had given you a mini orgasm just by entering— a feat that brings a smug smile to Wanda’s lips.
“You feel that, detka.” She takes your hand and brings it down to the slight bulge in your lower abdomen. “That’s my cock ruining you for anyone else. No one will ever be able to fill you the way I do, make you scream yourself hoarse.” Wanda snaps her hips forward after a shallow pull-back, giving out a satisfied hum at the feeling of your slick walls pressed around her. “Your pussy belongs to me, your pleasure belongs to me, and you belong to me.”
Wanda lowers her head, lips pressed firmly to your own, giving you even more of a taste of yourself than before, as her tongue practically fucks your mouth while her cock fucks your pussy. When she detaches her lips from yours, only a thin trail of saliva is left, before she’s far enough away for it to snap.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh permeates the air, an occasional grunt or moan intercepting it, and you’d be concerned about the noise level if Wanda hadn’t sent Peter, her assistant, home early— having planned to have you like this from the very moment she had invited you over.
“Just like that, mommy. Keep fucking me like that,” you babble, drunk on pleasure as Wanda kept driving her hips forward, one slender finger roughly rubbing your clit in time with each thrust. It’s of no surprise that you find your release quickly after, gushing over Wanda’s cock.
The tight contractions around her cock— as your second orgasm was much more powerful than your first— causes Wanda to groan, hips stuttering in their brutal pace. It’s clear that she was close, sweat slicked brow, causing strands of silver hair to cling to fair skin, but she obviously wanted you to come one last time— to be tossed over the edge with her.
With a shake breath, Wanda roughly brings you to the brink of your third orgasm, not even giving you time to fully get through the second. “One more, detka. You’ve got one more in you for mommy.” She dips her head, lips tenderly brushing across your forehead. “And when you come around mommy’s cock, I’m gonna fill you up like the good girl you are. Would you like that?”
You nod, practically whining. “Yes. Please.”
The older woman snarls once more, clearly affected by the look on your face, and, before you’re even aware of it, you’re crashing over the edge again— a cry of Wanda’s name passing over your lips as you spasm around her. Barely being able to catch Wanda’s own groan in response: “Yes.”
Jets of her cum paint your inner walls white, warming you up. It’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to— or want to get used to, if you’re being honest.
Once she’s spent, Wanda gently lowers herself onto your still slightly spasming body, lips pressed softly against your cheek. “You did so good. So perfect for me. My beautiful girl.”
You happily nuzzle into Wanda’s neck, eyes drooping out of contented exhaustion. “I love you.”
You’re too out of it to feel Wanda stiffen in surprise, or to really understand what you had just whispered, but you are aware of Wanda’s arms tightening around you, her lips pressing more firmly against your skin, as she cuddles you closer to her.
And, as you begin to drift off completely, happy in Wanda’s arms, you faintly feel Wanda exhale across the shell of your ear, a shaky breath, uncharacteristic for the older woman, before her soft voice breaks through the silence: “I love you too. More than I ever thought I’d love anyone.”
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[A Few Months Later…]
“How many do you want?”
It’s asked softly, one of Wanda’s hand gently running up-and-down your back in a soothing motion. Her lips pressed against the crown of your head, your face nuzzled against the crook of her neck, a place you don’t feel like leaving anytime soon.
“How many what?” You snuggle closer, delighted in the way her arms tighten instinctively. “I want a lot of things, Wands.”
Wanda huffs out a light chuckle. “Children, Y/N. How many children do you want?”
You stiffen in surprise at the question— Wanda hadn’t made it a secret that she didn’t plan on having kids. That she didn’t think she’d make a good mother due to her childhood and her busy lifestyle, but you also know that your girlfriend wouldn’t ask something unless she’s serious about the answer. Something you’ve figured out after all these months together. Regrettably, you pull your face away from the warm nest it had made so you’re able to look at her, and Wanda met your eyes calmly, sharp green softened in a way that’s only ever meant for you.
“What’s this about, Wanda?” You roll your lips, trying to process your next words carefully. “I thought you didn’t want kids?”
Emerald eyes flash warmly. “I didn’t want a lot of things, Y/N.” She easily tugs you back into her arms, lips pressed to your forehead. “But that was all before I met you.”
Touched by her words— and the clear sincerity within them— you decide to just bite the bullet, there wasn’t a point in delaying your answer. Especially if Wanda expected it.
“Two.” A gentle kiss is placed to her collarbone. “I want two boys. Twins.”
She breathes out another chuckle. “Twins, huh?” Maneuvering you both, you’re suddenly pressed against the mattress, Wanda hovering over you, smile still in place, with a familiar hardness nestled between your thighs. “That seems like something we’d have to get just right, correct?”
Even though it’s posed as question, you can tell that Wanda meant it rhetorically. That she already knew the answered you’d both settle on— an answer you always agreed upon.
Wiggling your hips, grinning mischievously at the sharp gasp that leaves Wanda’s lips at the added pressure, you throw your arms loosely around her neck.
“Yes.” You pull her closer, lips millimeters from her own. “I think it’s something we’re going to have practice quite a bit.”
Not needing any more prompting Wanda descends onto you with a ravenous hunger. One that you’re all too happy to match.
You can’t wait to experience your future if this is what’ll be waiting for you there.
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The phone is cold against your overheated flesh— a concoction of anger and disappointment courses through you like lava.
“Wanda—” You pinch the bridge of your nose to stem the tide of anger. “This is the eighth time this week alone. What the hell am I supposed to tell the caterers? Again.”
A soft sigh resounds through the speaker. “Just tell them that I won’t be able to make it, Y/N.” The response, in a clearly distracted tone, does little to ease your growing ire. “I know you’ll be able to handle it.”
“I don’t want to handle it, Wanda. This is our wedding, I’d like for you to also have a say in it.” From the time on the clock, you didn’t have much time left to leave the penthouse. Not if you wanted to get to the appointment on time. “I’ve been planning this entire thing by myself, I want your help. I want to hear your opinions. I want you.”
To care goes without words, but you’re certain it rings out just the same. You had been so happy when Wanda had suddenly proposed, seemingly out of the blue. Though wasn’t that the point? Taking you to a rooftop restaurant, which she had rented out, and offered you the rare chance of getting to taste her impeccable cooking; all dishes she had learned from her mother back in Sokovia. It had been a night you’d forever cherish, memories forever ingrained in your heart: the way the stars made the green in Wanda’s eyes sparkle more, the subtle wind allowing you to be surrounded by her comforting scent, the bright smile she had given you when she dropped down to one knee, and the happy laugh that had escaped her when you said yes. It had been a fairytale, everything you had ever wanted.
Until you realized your Disney fairytale was beginning to turn into Brothers Grimm.
“You have me, Y/N.” Wanda lets out another sigh. “Look, I can’t keep talking the investors for the meeting just arrived and I need to get prepared. I promise that I’ll go over everything you discuss later, okay? I love you.”
“Wanda—”
You’re only met with the sound of the dial tone, barely getting the chance to reply before being hung up on, and the familiar aching sense of silence that follows— a hollow sound that distantly reminded you of what your heart has become.
It hadn’t always been like this. The penthouse, upon your first visit, had been cold, lifeless in a way that seemed almost inhuman, but slowly it had livened up— been filled with a sense of warmth and peace. Of love. It had been a place you could go to when you just needed an escape from the rest of the world, when you needed to be surrounded by things that remind you of the woman you love.
Now it’s suffocating in a way that you never wished for it to be.
You’re aware that Wanda is a busy woman— had been aware of it before your first date occurred— but she had always at least tried to be there. Always left you feeling like you were at least on the list of things that mattered, you didn’t necessarily need to be at the direct top; not when she had so many things to content with already. But, you’ve felt like nothing more than an afterthought lately.
Gentle kisses in the morning turned to brief parting words as she made her way quickly out the door.
Soft smiles, and inside jokes, turned to barely there quirks of full lips, and stretched out silences.
The warmth of her hold, the safety you felt from her touch, turned to an icy chill as she left you to the cold air— you don’t even remember when the last time was that you had been together properly. Since you had woken up in her arms.
You didn’t need a lot, you didn’t need all of her time, but you wanted to feel like you still mattered— that everything you have isn’t just another thing Wanda had marked off on her checklist of things to do before she turns 55.
Checking the time, a small curse leaves your lips once you realize that you’re going to be late, and, with one final glance towards the empty penthouse, you make your way out the door— hoping that the growing chill you feel isn’t indicative of a love grown cold.
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Silence had become your greatest friend in the weeks that followed. The one thing that you’ve grown to count on as Wanda’s schedule only seemed to get busier and busier— hell, your relationship with her personal assistant had grown to the point that he’s been calling you by your first name now. Instead of the usually nervous ma’am or Ms. L/N.
Wedding appointments had come and gone, all of them spent alone, with Wanda barely perusing the choices that had been made before crashing out of sheer exhaustion. Conversation had grown stilted due to her own growing ire at you consistent worry— although she labeled it as nagging. That she’s been running her business for over thirty years, and she’s been doing fine.
Even now, on New Years Eve, as the clock moved ever closer to midnight, you were completely alone— expansive shadows, that seemed darker somehow, stretched out towards you like ghastly fingers, trying to tear whatever semblance of comfort you’ve found away. You’re not sure what you had been expecting, not even sure if you’d truly believed that Wanda would show herself, but you can’t lie and say that you hadn’t hoped.
Hoped that today, of all days, would be different. That you wouldn’t feel like a stranger, an intruder, within your own life, within your own home.
Fanciful musings and hopes of a lovestruck fool.
The small chirp of an incoming message pulls you from your reverie, a bright smile appearing instantly at the sight of who it’s from, before withering away once you read it: Sorry, I won’t be able to make it home tonight. Going to the Hamptons to meet some new business partners. I promise I’ll make it up to you later. I love you.
You don’t bother to send a message back— what could you possibly say? Yet another promise had been thrown to the wayside by the older woman. Even if it was just a cursory, and unspoken, one being as simple as not leaving your fiancé alone on New Years. Or waiting until the last minute to actually say anything about it.
A soft sigh escapes your lips, an acidic twang settling over your tongue, as bitterness seeps into your bloodstream, poisoning your heart and soul. You knew what you needed to do, have known since this had become your new normal, but hadn’t had the strength, or the courage, to make it a reality. Until now.
Until the heartbreak, the suffering, has become as close of a friend to you as the oppressive silence.
And, as the door to the penthouse gently closed behind you, never to be opened by your hand again, you feel a sense of bone-deep sorrow settle over you. For everything that could have been, for what you had hoped for, and all that you now had to live without. You could just step back inside, hide or destroy the letter, and Wanda would never know. She’d never find out how close you had been to giving up, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. Could no longer gather up the power to keep fighting for something that’s been lost long ago— no matter how much your heart screams at it not being true.
Tears gather in your eyes as you take another step away from the door, away from the place you’ve lived in for the last two years, and your heart breaks with every step. But, it breaks even more at the knowledge that you were leaving your true home behind too— that doing this would destroy everything you have with Wanda, never to be salvaged. The penthouse may be expensive, and it may be beautiful, but it’d never be home to you like Wanda; it’d never offer you the same feeling of protection like her arms did.
You’ve been shut out of your home for months now, and being left out in the cold has finally frozen your heart enough for you to be able to do this. No matter how much more it was going to hurt once it thaws once more.
Shouldering your duffel bag, the only thing you’ve allowed yourself to bring, you step into the private elevator and press the button for the lobby. Hands tightening around the strap of the bag, trying to ignore the way your ring finger no longer felt the familiar press of metal against it as you do so.
It was time to look forward, to finally make your own laters, the things you had been pushing off, become an actuality.
Even if you wanted nothing more than to have never needed to say goodbye to Wanda Maximoff in the first place.
Losing the ring was one thing, but losing the love of your life?
It’s a wound you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to recover from.
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[Present]
“Mom?” The small voice catches your attention, your eyes focused back in to see bright eyes, twin grins being sported between the pair. “Can we still get hot chocolate?”
Billy and Tommy had come into your life when you needed them to most— a blessing that you’d definitely been searching for after everything imploded with Wanda. And, even if how they were conceived didn’t lend itself to a happy tale, you’d never change a thing. They were your twin miracles. Your beautiful baby boys— even if they were eight years old now.
“I thought you decided to get caramel popcorn instead?” You poke Billy’s side gently, delighted in the giggle the actions caused. “That’s what you both told me at the theater.”
Tommy’s eyes widened dramatically, in full puppy-dog mode. “But that was before you took us past our favorite store.” He points to the small café only a few feet away— one that you frequented with the twins when you could find the time. A place that you hadn’t even realized you’d be leading them towards. “Can we please get hot chocolate.”
The twins chime in unison: “Please.”
You chance a glance towards the café— deliberating your options— but you know that you’re going to cave. After all, the reason you had gone to the movies was to celebrate their stellar report cards. What harm could some extra hot chocolate do?
So, with a faux long-suffering sigh, you relent. “I suppose.”
“Yes!” Twin cheers are your immediate response, brightening the smile on your lips, and you soon find yourself in the quaint café— one that held so many memories for you. Phantoms of your past the whispered in your ear as you placed your order and directed your boys to their usual spot.
Only half-listening to their chatter about the movie you had just seen— some superhero film— you simply bask in the simplicity their joy brought you. Observing their small faces light up, little hands waving around as they discussed various points, and your heart swells with more love than you ever thought you could feel.
“—What did you think, mom?”
Billy’s sudden question tears you from your musings, his widened eyes, alight with excitement, giving you the impression that he really wanted to hear what you thought.
“About the movie?” They both nod. “I thought it was good, bug.”
Tommy pouts. “Yeah, but what did you like most about it? Did you have a favorite scene?”
“I—”
“Order for Y/N.”
Saved by the bell, you think. A wave of relief crashing over you. “You two stay put.” Standing, you ruffle their hair. “I’ll be right back with our drinks.”
At the prospect of their hot chocolate they don’t seem to mind that you didn’t answer their question— though you’d certain Tommy would ask you again. Though you’d have more than enough time to google some things about the movie before then. Small miracles.
Stopping at the counter, you take the tray with the drinks with a smile and a nod in greeting to the server you’ve grown quite fond of.
“Y/N?”
Breath catching in your throat at the husky voice sounding out behind you, the cadence and tone so familiar that your heart still burns from it. Hesitating only slightly, you turn and meet the shimmering emerald eyes you haven’t seen in a little over eight years. Her face still as beautiful as you’d last seen it, if a bit older now.
“Wanda.”
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nrdmssgs · 3 months
Note
Respectfully, I wanna deep throat Nikto. Like he can fuck my throat ☆
Masterlist
He can and he will.
TW: pure smut, no story, finger sucking, Nikto slightly doming, face fucking
When you first leaned in, letting Nikto capture your lips in a heated kiss - he was gentler than you expected, threading his fingers through your hair to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. You wouldn't mind gentle on any other day, but not today. Not when your body is all tensed due to the hormonal storm of ovulation. Not when your skin burns without a contact to his. Not when you are this hungry.
You are both breathless when you part, your eyes meet his pale blue irises. You want him so badly, it is embarrassing. It's a good thing, he can't read your mind, cant see all the awful dirty things, you crave. Your lips travel down his chest, leave a vet trail of kisses on his belly.
"Greedy, aren't we?" A low chuckle catches you on your knees, at eye-level with his waist.
You look up with a silent plea. You're too shy to vocalize, what do you want, but you can show. Your hands travel up his pants, fingers carefully tugging the belt.
With a click of his tongue, Nikto catches your wrists in a steel grip. It's so hard to balance between the intoxicating lines of his abdomen just centimeters away from you and the need to behave in order to-
"Did I let you?"
He didn't. Rascal. Nikto would let you do anything to him, use his body in any way, but once you really need him - the man remembers, that teasing is on the table as well.
So now he scans your features, weighs all the nice and naughty things you did so far. All to decide what to do with that pretty mouth of yours.
He cradles your face gently, tilting his head to one side as he subtly sways his hips forward. With a deft motion, Nikto hooks his thumb beneath your lower lip, brushing the salty tang of sweat from his skin against your teeth. In a low, resonant murmur, he commands, "Open up."
You oblige, closing your eyes. Here in the darkness of a suffocating bliss, he sends you in, you don't just let his index and middle fingers slide in - you practically breathe him in, sucking eagerly.
You can't help yourself - you don't even care anymore if he sees this side of yours. Indulgent. Nasty. Corrupted.
A moan leaves your chest as he pulls his fingers out and tastes them.
"Umnitza. A glubzhe smozhesh?*" Once again, a tease, a dare. He becomes unbearable, when he is certain, you are ready to do anything.
With a fast nod you catch his fingers as soon as he lowers his hand. The taste of his saliva mixes with yours, and your thirst only grows.
It's three fingers now, and he slides much deeper in. It's hard to breath, almost impossible to think straight, but you concentrate all your will to keep standing on your knees and pray-pray-pray with your tongue for more. An experience transcending religious, as you give him your very soul.
Take everything, just let me...
A glint ignites in his eyes as you tilt your head back, and he presses his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle. His lips part, and his eyes half-close in a languid expression of appreciation.
"My-my, such a good little thing." He pulls his fingers from you with a pop, wiping your spit across your cheek. The belt buckle unfastens with an iron clink. Nikto lets go of your wrists, but the other hand stays on your cheek.
You don't believe it right away, when he decides to just let you have him your way. Your fingers are extra slow as they slide up his shaft, feeling heavy veins even through the textile.
But Nikto encourages you, grinding himself slowly against your hands.
You've proven so good with your mouth, how can he deny you?
If you couldn't feel, couldn't see how hard he is, you would believe, the man above you is completely calm. His shoulders don't flinch when you place a soft kiss against glistening tip. A kiss, that grows into another and another and ends up stretching to a wet line leading to his base.
You shut your eyes, and part your lips, just as he showed you with his fingers. He tastes like sin, like the end of anything modest in you, like a lust itself. High above you, his lethal purr raises the hair on the back of your neck.
"Bloody... Your lips are dangerous."
Nikto sinks his fingers into your hair, controlling your head by the roots, sliding the velvet heat of his cock past your lips. He doesn't go all way, drawing a greedy whine out of you after he started to slide out slowly.
"Want more?" He pauses, still keeping you from taking more of him.
You nod with your mouth still full, and that gives him a second of an absolute perfect angle. Not letting you change anything in your pose accidentally, Nikto slides in one more time. He's still slow with this push, but this time you feel his hot tip with your throat.
Your eyes dart up and meet his gaze, fogged with desire. This must have some effect on him. With a hiss, he backs away a bit and lunges forward.
Before you tried this with him, the experience was always hectic, suffocating, painful. But Nikto loved to ease you little by little into relaxing, giving in to your own hunger, leaving your insecurities back. And now this pays off.
His breath grows ragged, each thrust accompanied by a dirty escapade leaving his lips. Drool slides down your chin with each movement of his hot flesh. Your eyes are wet with tears. It's not a pain - it's a pure bliss of having this beast so close.
He watches you spellbound. A feral, animalistic grin growing on his face.
His little treasure.
"Take it." A thrust harder than the previous ones.
His angel falling oh so gracefully for him.
"Take it." His cock pulses spreading warmth down your body, and you feel like your sex resonates with him.
His blessing. His everything.
"Take. it." His moves grow hastier. You're so full of him, but he wants more. He wants to give you more.
This man doesn't just indulge in your whim. He fucks you like he means it.
Umnitza. A glubzhe smozhesh? - Good job. Can you take them deeper?
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cultofdixon · 9 months
Text
Stress is a silent killer
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Don’t get me wrong, mothers are strong motherfuckers. But that doesn’t mean you can abuse an expecting mother’s abilities. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Pre-Term Labor Anxieties / Anxiety
Requested by: Anon
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Daryl silently returns his home he shares with Y/N who was currently seated in the living room wide awake. She was decked out to go outside the walls and search for him after the news but thankfully he came back in time before she risked herself at the hour it was.
“I’m sorry”
Y/N didn’t say anything, all she did was let the tears that build up roll off her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I walked away when yea first told me” His voice broke as he brought himself to kneel in front of her resting his hands on her thighs watching her tearful expression meet his gaze.
“I’m scared, Dar…”
“I know, me too. Cuz I want this. I want this with yea and I’m afraid of losing you…like Lori…or like…the others. I can’t lose yea to anythin’ or anyone.”
“You can’t…you can’t walk out like the way you did” She choked out through her sobbing as Daryl brought his hands onto her cheeks wiping away them while they fell. “Please…if you do that again, I’m only going to think the worse possible things”
“I’m stayin’ right here, sunshine. I’m never leaving again.” Daryl pushed himself forward and wrapping his arms around her as she did the same gripping onto his vest. “I’m never leaving you and this baby, I promise”
~
7 1/2 months later…
Another cold spring morning comes through causing the somewhat irritable not-a-morning person Y/N to bring herself to sit up the best she could given her “natural” circumference was different compared to the first and second trimester.
“Did you leave the window open?” She tiredly asks her husband who had sat up when she did, given the closer they get to 9 months the more he’ll be up and at it for anything.
“It was stuffy last night, yea asked me too” Daryl yawns stretching out his back hearing his partner hiss when she heard the occasional stretch out crack. “I’m good”
“Working on the wall repair does you no good…and I think I just forgot I asked you to open it” Y/N frowns bringing herself to the edge of the bed causing Daryl to get up in his shirtless glory about to close the window. “What are you doing?”
“I told yea you don’t have to get up and close it”
“I gotta get up and pee cuz a certain someone is stepping on my bladder.”
“So is that a no on me closing it for yea, love?”
“Can you please close it and help me stand up?” Y/N gave him a tired smile as he did exactly what was asked and while Daryl helped her up she couldn’t help but grab his face to bring him to her level to kiss him before separating to do what she needed.
“Are you sure you don’t need me or want me this morning? Rick completely understands why I can stay here” Daryl started to remind Y/N about the run he was asked to go on that involved stopping at the Hilltop to drop off supplies and go pick up more from the Kingdom.
“You pawned it off to somebody for the past two weeks. I’m not going to go into labor the second you leave. I’m not 8 months yet”
“Pre-term shit. You were put on bedrest during the second tri—whatever it’s called because your stress wasn’t helpin’” Daryl states slipping off his sweats to put jeans on when Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s easy for yea to stress out and back in the prison you passed out once cuz of it. Now you’re pregnant and Siddiq said it could cause more harm than good”
“Are you trying to stress me out now?”
“No, I’m just telling—-“
“It’s only for half the day. Both Maggie and Ezekiel know who you have to come back home to, they won’t hold you up and we also know Carol will shut Ezekiel up if he does start another endless conversation with you. You’ll be back before nightfall and I’ll be here waiting for my husband to come back”
The archer only gave her a worried expression because of how calm she was being, since a month ago she’d scream at him for just leaving the house. He brought himself over kissing her lovingly and holding her for as long as she let him, which could be hours and he’ll not be able to go anymore. But Y/N knew this trick.
“You seriously walking me out to make sure I actually go?” Daryl smiles walking his bike with his pregnant wife on the other side of such still wearing her sweats and one of his shirts.
“Did you forget about the morning and evening walks we do?”
“Nah I did not. Which reminds me to tell yea to wait for me for the night one. Take it easy walking back home and stay away from the new infusions”
Y/N whistled for Daryl to stop given she can’t maneuver fast enough to grab his arm. “Stay away from the new infusions?”
“Rick let in more ex-saviors to help around here. They are staying in the apartment looking houses” Daryl parked his bike a moment bringing himself to rest his hands on her belly. “Two of them are annoying shit stains of humanity. I don’t know the other one’s name but one of’em is Bryan and they’d much rather pawn their work off to somebody else”
“Daryl. I doubt they’d make a pregnant woman do shit”
“Well. I told Aaron to check on yea if he sees you doing anything sketchy”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Rick is at Oceanside, Michonne is watching a sick Judith, and the others are working on the bridge repair. You won’t let me stay to make sure you don’t over exert yourself. Somebody’s gotta check on yea and since he’s takin’ care of a baby girl at the moment? He’s more than happy to check up on you when Gracie is napping”
“You really have everything planned. Even have a radio?” Y/N smiles crossing her arms as he took out said device to show her resulting in a playful eye roll. “I’ll do my best, my love. But I’ve never seen those individuals before…you can’t blame me if something happened”
“Yeah, but I sure as hell can kill a man if he harms my wife and baby” Daryl states, sneaking in a kiss before getting his bike back up and heading toward the gates.
“I promise nothing will happen, Dar”
What was meant to be an easy day, turned into a weird one.
When the gates closed, Y/N held her belly for a moment feeling the shifting baby inside her make it a bit difficult to go immediately back to her home. She decided to take a longer walk around Alexandria, stopping occasionally to talk to her friends and see what they were up to improve their community. Then on her way back there were two Alexandrians carrying a few boxes to the pantry and infirmary. Both looked at her with curious expressions…
“Yo!”
Y/N ignored it at first until she flinched to the sound of the box dropping beside her.
“You’re Y/N right? The other Dixon in this place”
“Yes…? And you are?” She frowns, not liking the feeling the atmosphere gave when the individual didn’t share his name right away.
“I’m new here. Do you mind helping us with something?”
“Uhm I’m not exactly supposed to be…lifting anything heavy” Y/N gestures a bit on the obvious side about her pregnant belly as they both still gave stone cold stares.
“We’ll carry it to the pantry and infirmary. Just could use somebody to put it away while we bring the rest”
“Is Siddiq not her—-“
“Seriously, Dixon. You’re just pregnant not incompetent” one of them stated only for Y/N’s expression to go south as she supported her belly telling them that she’ll meet them in the pantry first to unload the boxes.
Once she stepped far enough, one of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.
“Cant believe that worked”
“Can it Bryan. We still gotta bring the boxes over then we can go fuck off for the rest of the day” The other scoffs picking up and the box carrying it to where it needed to be.
It had been a couple hours of putting supplies away in their perspective areas, thankfully Y/N has worked with Siddiq before so she knows where he likes everything to be. The doctor just didn’t expect to come back from checking on the little ones of Alexandria after lunch time to find Y/N standing on a stool putting away spare gauze in a tub that Siddiq put them in.
“Are you crazy?” Siddiq frowns watching Y/N stumble a bit unexpected as he quickly drop his medical bag to help his friend off the stool. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you in here?”
“Because I have to be useful!”
“Y/N what the hell do you mean?!” Siddiq frowns watching the discomfort grow on her face along with the tears forming. “Okay, come on. Sit down and tell me what happened” he made her sit on the gurney sitting with her.
“My husband—-“
“Did Daryl get hurt?!”
“No! He warned me about some slackers and I just. I didn’t think I was this stupid enough to fall for their shit” Y/N frowns wiping away her tears before wincing and holding her belly instantly. Siddiq pulled away to get the portable machine helping her lay down onto the gurney adjusting it for her to sit up. “It was just one damn conversation and I felt like I was being useless. We won that stupid fucking war. Lost a lot of people. Then this happened and it’s the best thing but all my hormones are all over the place—-“
“And that’s normal! It’s normal for hormones to take over control with all your other emotions.” Siddiq carefully rolled her shirt up to apply a bit of the gel and gently place the wand to check on the heartbeat. “Can you tell me your pain level? And I’m talking from the moment you’ve felt uncomfortable”
“A six…”
“Are you lying?” Siddiq stated watching the tears build up more. “Y/N how long have you been working today?”
“About an hour after Daryl left”
The look on Siddiq’s face only grew even more worried for his friend as he cleaned her up and before she even tried to get up, he carefully helped her back down grabbing a blanket to cover her.
“Siddiq—-“
“You’re having contractions and I don’t want you to force this baby out from your stress because it’s too early and while I think we can…handle that intense situation…I don’t want you to lose this baby if it goes south.” Siddiq frowns covering her more in the blanket and putting the gurney in the trendelenburg position to have gravity help slow the contractions. Before he pulled away to grab a few things that will help, Y/N grabbed his arm. “You stay here and I’ll get someone to radio Daryl to come back a bit early”
“You think he’ll…uh…y-you think he’ll be mad at me?” Her voice broke as Siddiq took her hand into both of his shaking his head.
“No. But when he finds out about who made you overwork, they aren’t going to see the next day”
By the time Siddiq got Daryl on the line, he was already making his way back to Alexandria and when he heard about his wife he was speeding even faster. Daryl parked in front of the infirmary, dropping his bike without another thought as he enters the building bringing himself to her side resting his hand on her belly.
“How are yea feeling?”
“I’m sorry—-“
“Love, please—-“
“I’m really sorry” Y/N broke down in a sob making her husband out of instinct gently wipe away her tears. “I’m really sorry I didn’t take it easy—“
“Y/N. I’m serious when I say this. You don’t have to apologize.” Daryl frowns rubbing circles on her belly watching her bring her hand over his. “Did Siddiq tell yea how long you’d have to be—-“
“She can go back down.” Siddiq interrupts the two coming down from his flat above the infirmary with a filled canteen for Y/N. “You can take her back to your home to be more comfortable in her bed but again, bed rest—-“
“Fuck” Y/N sobbed hating it already and she’s not in her own bed.
“Just for a week until your stress levels and blood pressure go down. Thankfully trendelenburg worked with the contractions but don’t want you, again, to overwork yourself” Siddiq set the canteen down to help Daryl get Y/N on her feet before giving her the filled bottle. “Don’t let her leave the house, then maybe nobody would abuse your hormones” he stated letting them be to finish what Y/N started before he made her rest.
After getting Y/N back home and in their bed, Daryl stuck by her side thinking of the words Siddiq had said before they left. But he wasn’t going to address it when she was still experiencing a bit of discomfort.
“You want another pillow?”
“Then what are you going to sleep on?”
“A mattress? I don’t need a pillow, just need my woman comfortable while she’s a human incubator” He jokes getting a short lived laugh out of her as he moves the extra blankets and his pillows to support her back and belly. When she first started getting uncomfortable, he tried looking for one of those pregnancy pillows that Carol had told him about but it was a lot of work and he didn’t want to leave her at all. Like he promised and is semi-regretting given he left to take care of business and some assholes were pushing her limits with emotional abuse.
“Daryl…?” Y/N tiredly calls out for him as he returns with her canteen filled for a fourth time since being home as he brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed setting her bottle on the nightstand.
“Yes, sunshine?”
“You still love me right…?” Y/N pouted only for Daryl to scoff at such a ridiculous question, leaning over to shower her in kisses making her bring her arms around his neck to keep him close for the moment. “Dar…”
“I’ll always love you. Even when yea risk yourself. But, imma stick by yea for the rest of this.” Daryl states. “No more tellin’ me I gotta go cuz I promised somebody. Someone else will get the work done, doesn’t have to be me and definitely doesn’t have to be you”
“Can you hold me tonight?”
“As long as you don’t kick me out of the bed when it got too hot” he laughs softly, bringing his lips to hers for a few short soft kisses before pulling away to get into comfortable clothing to sleep in and hold her.
The second Y/N fell asleep and was in deep enough sleep for the archer to slip away to check on a familiar hiding spot in Alexandria. Said hiding spot would have those who didn’t want others to notice they were smoking. Knowing damn well he’ll find the right men that have been bothering his partner.
“Ayo the other Dixon has retur—-“ Bryan immediately shut up when Daryl grabbed him by the collar forcing him against the walls of the community.
“You talk to my wife today? Mess with her and had your buddy over here help?”
“Dude I have no idea—-“
“Don’t lie. Don’t even try, or I will fucking end you right here and now” Daryl hissed shoving him harshly against the wall letting go of his shirt. He quickly turned to his buddy who put out his cigarette before holding his hands up defensively. “If I see you and or this son of a bitch near my wife or even hear about it, I’ll feed you both to the walkers after I’ve knocked the living shit out of you both. And don’t yea worry…I’ve got friends to let me know if yea fuck with the love of my life and soon to be mother of my child” and with that he took his leave letting the two regret their decisions and contemplate being moved to a different community to avoid the harsher Dixon. But even then, he’d tear them apart anywhere.
Y/N shifted slightly when the bed moved behind her, she relaxed instantly feeling her husband bring his arm around her pulling her into him.
“Where’d you go?”
“Got yea more water, and heard somethin’ outside”
“Another possum?”
“A pest that’s for sure”
“Mmm…” Y/N snuggles into his embrace getting comfortable as Daryl kissed her temple. “Nothing you can’t handle right?”
Right.
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marlynnofmany · 5 months
Text
Not Special
The refueling station was on a small moon in the back end of nowhere, close to nothing but a couple of wormhole junctions. Since it had a little convenience store and everything, it really gave off “7/11 next to a desert highway” vibes. Just, y’know, in space. The moon wasn’t big enough for proper gravity or air on its own, so someone had installed a gravity generator under the dusty red ground. And turned it up just a smidge too high, but I wasn’t going to complain.
I was going to buy pre-packaged alien snacks at the store while my coworkers handed the refueling. Mimi was calling the shots, tentacles waving and gravelly voice audible from here, while the Frillian twins handled the heavy lifting of connector hoses and Captain Sunlight was at the payment kiosk. The others were either staying onboard or already browsing the aisles.
I’d just picked up a pack of something colorful (doing an artful fumble-and-recovery because of the gravity) when a rowdy group of Armorlites trooped in. I didn’t pay them too much attention — just a bunch of macho dinosaurs with holstered blasters and bipedal swagger; totally normal here — but one of them said something that brought me up short.
“Hey look, another human,” said the cheerful voice. “Maybe you can get some tips on how not to be such a disappointment.” Raucous laughter followed.
I frowned in their direction and saw that they did have a human with them: a pale and unassuming guy just a bit shorter and stockier than me. He looked annoyed by the comment, but not surprised.
When he walked over to me, I asked, “What’s that about?” The Armorlites were already ignoring him.
The guy sighed. “They heard a lot of stories about humans before they hired me, and I don’t meet their expectations.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Humans doing daring things, like running for hours to get medicine to dying people, catching a diseased rat before it infected an entire space station, throwing fruit at charging fauna hard enough to make it leave…” He ticked things off on his fingers. “Exorcizing a ghost, and riding a hoversled like a skateboard fast enough to catch a bomb before it blew up. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He threw his hands in the air.
“Um,” I said, putting down the snack I was still holding. “Would it make it better or worse to know those were all the same person?”
“What?”
“The rat wasn’t actually diseased, the ghost was a howling dog, and I didn’t know the thing was explosive when I rushed to catch it,” I said. “And I wasn’t the only person throwing things at the fauna.”
“What?” he repeated, with a spread-arms gesture that smacked into the shelf. Rubbing his hand, he asked, “That was all you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Unless there are other humans doing the same things, which is possible.”
He raked fingers through his hair, setting it at odd angles. “I can’t believe this. I’d tell them, but they’d just want to hire you instead.”
I rushed to assure him, “I’ve got a job already, and I don’t want to take yours.” I glanced over at the Armorlites, who were grabbing food and accessories. One clicked a flashlight on in another’s face, prompting curses from him and laughter from the others. That tracked from what I’d seen of Armorlite culture before. Toughness was important. Kindness, not so much. “What do you do for them?”
He sighed again. “Bookkeeping, officially. They needed somebody to handle the boring stuff like money and permits while they focus on hunting the biggest animals they can sell.”
“Gotcha. That sounds … exciting.”
“It’s not. It’s like going on a trip with my cousins again, except they’re even bigger and make fun of me for not having claws.”
“You’ve got other stuff going for you, though!” I said. “We just need to figure which of your differences they’ll respect most.”
“I’m all ears,” he said with a certain level of sarcasm. “Please tell me what about my fragile human physique will get me respect from the Mighty.”
Oh right, they did call themselves that. I’d almost forgotten. At least they were a straightforward species without a lot of mysterious depths.
“Well,” I said, thinking. “They like fighting. You’re more suited to stealth than they are, small enough to hide and do sneak attacks that they wouldn’t see coming. What if you introduced them to rubber band warfare, and sniped from hidden parts of the ship?”
“Nope,” he said. “That would just end with me cornered somewhere, and them showing off how even thin scales are tougher than my skin.”
“Good point. Oh! What kind of animals do they hunt? You said big ones, but do you know the specific names?” I got out my phone and brought up the database of known fauna that I’d talked Captain Sunlight into buying for me. As her own hired animal expert, it was really the kind of thing that I should have. My vet training on Earth only went so far.
“Uhhh, I think the last one was a treehorn,” he said. “Wait, they talked about going for Argoshan Dagger Birds next.”
“Right. Now what kind of noises do those make…” I typed quickly. Big creatures indeed, by the looks of it: Dagger Birds had prevented more than one colony from getting a foothold in the wilds of a nearby world, and were unlikely to stop being a threat anytime soon. I skimmed the rundown for the vocal files. “Here we go. Mating call.” Keeping the sound low enough for just us to hear, I played the croaking warble.
“Okay?” the guy said, confused.
“Can you imitate that?” I asked. “Give it a shot. Kinda like a frog. Woarrrk.”
Looking skeptical, he did. The expression on his face said he wasn’t impressed with his own efforts, but it sounded accurate enough to me.
“Great!” I said. “Give that a bit of practice, then you can go out with your crew and impress everybody by luring in some targets for them.”
“I could,” he said thoughtfully. “I usually stay on the ship while they’re hunting, but it might be worth a try. Can I have a copy of that sound for practice?”
He got out his own phone and I played it again so he could record it. The Armorlites were dumping things onto the front counter, ready to pay and leave. I caught sight of bright packaging that I recognized, and I had another idea.
“Thanks,” the guy said. “This might actually help. What was your name?”
“Robin Bennett,” I said with a belated handshake.
“Oscar Tennyson,” he replied. “Thanks for your help. Looks like I should grab my stuff and get going.”
“Before you go. See those tall cans with the purple labels?” I pointed at something the Armorlites were buying.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever tried that?”
“No! They get wasted on it; I’ve steered far clear.”
I grinned with all my teeth. “That’s not alcohol. That’s caffeine.”
“What?”
“Humans can process caffeine better than most species on our own planet, and just about everybody in space. It’s a poison to most. It gets them super drunk, but for you—” I pointed at him with glee. “For you, it’s just a bit of energy. Pick your moment, then walk in casually while they’re getting wasted, and slam one down. See what happens.”
He was smiling now. “You’re sure? It’s really just caffeine? How much?”
“I checked into it before. One of those huge cans is like a watered-down coffee. These guys are absolute lightweights, and they don’t even know.”
He grinned to split his face. “That is the best news.”
One of them called for him to hurry up, and he bid me a quick goodbye before scampering off. I saw him grab food cubes, water, and a six-pack of caffeine, which he bundled onto the counter as the Armorlites headed out the door.
“Be right there! Just getting some stuff!”
They didn’t look, simply telling him not to waste any time. He smiled his way through the purchase.
Peeking over the shelves, I smiled too. Then I went back to my own purchases, with thoughts of getting an energy drink or two in his honor.
~~~
These started as backstory tidbits for the main character from this book, and turned into a sprawling adventure series in their own right. The sequel book will feature a return of some familiar faces. And Patreon is coming soon — even the free tier will be a handy way to keep up with the ongoing shenanigans of this particular human in space.
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nuka · 6 months
Text
Call me delulu, but I woke up with hope in my heart today.
It's only been 2 months since the show was cancelled. WBD is run by an incompetent fool. WBD previously said they'd sell Coyote vs. Acme, but then made it impossible for anyone to buy it. All streaming services are struggling financially at the moment.
Daddy Jenkins had to tell us we've reached the end of the road, because that's the reality right now. Either WBD made it impossible for anyone to buy the show, or the actual realistic price was just too high for other streamers at the moment even if they wanted to buy it. “Many complimentary meetings, conversations, etc” sounds like someone was interested.
DJ and everyone else who worked on the show need to be able to move on, so they can make a living from other projects. They’ve all been holding their breath just in case they can start filming after all. The fans need to move on in the sense that we can't expect a renewal "any day now", like we did for 2 months. We can still hope that we'll see season 3 one day, but now we can be realistic about the chances of it happening in the immediate future.
Everyone who worked on this show has loved it so dearly that I'm certain that if season 3 gets greenlit in the future, they'll all want to work on it again. As long as DJ is in, the others are too. The Revenge can be rebuilt. The time that has passed can be explained in the story, if it needs explaining at all. If some actors won't be able to return, we'll get new characters added to our family, and we'll embrace them just like we embraced all the new characters in season 2.
Depending on what the problem for the pick up was, things might change very quickly, or they might take a few years. Who knows, if we continue being loud, a streaming service that quickly passed on the show in January might take interest in it later. A streaming service that offered too little might make a better offer, and WBD might accept just to get rid of us (because we're back to calling Max out on this bullshit and it's not a good look for them). Or, once the industry recovers a bit, a streaming service might be willing to reconsider spending a big amount of money on this show. And if WBD set an impossible price for the show this time, they might shop it around for a more reasonable price once Zaslav is out (or even greenlight season 3 themselves, but that’s delulu level 200). Even if we don't get a season 3, we might still get a movie, or a comic book, or a script book, or a blu-ray release, or the Jenkins Cut. And honestly, if someone was to announce they've picked up the show in a year or two... that's not a long time at all.
Pirate Daddy said that our campaign was noticed across the industry. They hear and see our love for this show. They know we're here for the show if it's ever to return. They know this show has potential.
So let’s keep having fun in the fandom. Keep being loud about Our Flag Means Death. Keep using the hashtags. Keep making fanart. Keep shouting about how unfair this cancellation was. We don’t have to do it with the same intensity as during the campaign (I know we’re all tired and it’s completely okay to step away if you need/want to), but as long as we as a fandom are consistent, they’ll see there’s a demand that just won’t go away.
There is always hope. It’s not the same kind of hope we had before January 9th, and it’s not the kind we had until March 7th. But there are so many variables, and so little time has passed. Who knows what the industry will look like in a year or two. I’d rather believe in a future that might just hold a pleasant surprise for us than throw in the towel completely.
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yuri-is-online · 6 months
Note
...so you just threw this beautiful idea of Fyuuture kid, and left me with a brainrot? Especially after you answered one ask with i quote "he loves his parent so much and was really fighting it to keep it together when he saw them alive again" end of the quote. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN? WHAT? HOW?
ask 1 and ask 2
Oh 👉👈? I wasn't expecting to get an ask about this au ever again actually, but I am so glad you did, I like it a lot. I mentioned Fire Emblem Awakening in the first ask I got about it but for those of you who haven't played the game, the plot features the children of your army traveling back in time to try and prevent the end of the world. That's more or less what happened in the fyuuture kid au, at least in my first draft... I always end up associating the "future kid meets their parents" trope with either FE: Awakening or I guess Golden Sun? Which I think is the name of the jrpg where something similar happens idk I just like there being a reason for the kid to need to meet their parents.
In my original draft of the au, Yuu was told by Crowley there was no way home for them, so they settled down with Yutu's father and started building a life together. This turned out to not be true, as the Magical Marshall's office began investigating the overblots that happened while Yuu was in school and came to the conclusion Yuu had something to do with them; so they were secretly arrested, cursed to forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, and sent home. The curse was meant to trigger every time Yuu vaguely remembered their time in the otherworld, with the idea their brain would prevent them from thinking about it after a while. They would have justified it, if anyone had been there to ask, by saying Yuu wouldn't know they were missing anything and would be able to live a happy life. When Yutu was born that made that outcome impossible, but the Marshal's office didn't think to check if Yuu was pregnant...
Shortly after they did that though strange things started happening. Monster attacks got more frequent, blot levels started rising, not to extremes immediately but still enough to be concerning. Reports of a strange, abyssal magic using beast, started pouring in to S.T.Y.X. suspiciously close to Grim's description. While Yuu was busy trying to put their life back together in their world, Twisted Wonderland slowly began to fall apart drowning under an ink colored sky. The overblot phantoms they fought come back and begin hunting in their respective homelands, and rumor has it they can turn certain mages into their thralls...
The curse slowly eats away at Yuu's brain, every time they see something that reminds them of their friends, their time at NRC, every time Yutu does something that would make them think about how much he takes after his dad, they feel a great deal of physical pain and temporarily lose the ability to function. It's killing them, and no doctor or specialist can figure out the cause, so Yutu just has to sit there and watch his parent slowly die and not be able to do anything about it. I was uncertain of where exactly I wanted Yuu to die in the story, but it always was around when Yutu gets isekaid to NRC, either before and he had to leave them behind or after when they both get to go home finally! But Yuu doesn't completely make it, they're able to have one moment of peace with their son and Professor Crewel before passing on.
Yutu's dad changes depending on who you want it to be of course, as does whether they met before he and his friends decided to go back in time to prevent this version of the future from ever happening, but his feelings about Yuu never changes. Yutu really admires his parent, he did even before he learned about them facing down overblots! They were really close and the more he learned about their curse, the more responsible he felt for their death. He's very determined to keep Yuu alive and safe in Twisted Wonderland in this timeline, even if it costs him his life.
His opinion on his dad really changes depending on who it is and what he learns about them. Like can you imagine learning your dad was known for being obsessed with teeth and no he had no intention of being a dentist? Clown behavior 💀💀💀 His friends were all ocs I made but never really developed... I do remember that one was a younger sibling of Kalim's (who could be his aunt if you like Kalim and absolutely embraces that role), her retainer, Crewel's son who also sees himself as Yutu's uncle (the feeling isn't mutual) because he is old enough to sort of remember Yuu and thinks of them as a sibling, and a random oc I based off of the kid from Up for no reason other than I like the movie. They also came back in time, but only Yutu ended up in the right place, just like fire emblem awakening.
idk I should probably do something with it. like writing the reactions for the other dorms...
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ofstarsandvibranium · 20 days
Text
Guarded Desires: Part 3
Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte
Pairing: Padawan!Qimir x Princess!Reader
Summary: After an assassination attempt on your mother, she’s asked a favor from the Jedi Council to watch over you and your family until the assailant has been caught. As a result, your mother’s old friend, Master Vernestra, has her padawan, Qimir, be your bodyguard. Based off my imagine here.
Series Masterlist
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Throughout the day, Qimir remains at your side. He remains reserved and serious for the most part. You continue to ask him questions about his training and the Jedi way. He finds amusement in your excitement and curiosity, but it's also refreshing.
When Master Vernestra informed him that he as well as other Jedis and padawans would be protecting your family for a time, he didn't expect you to be this way. He's never met any form of royalty. He assumed that they'd be serious and reserved. You clearly proved him wrong.
He's known you for less than a day and he already sees how strong, resilient, funny, caring, and fun you can be. He expected you to be uptight. He was ready to be ignored, but you have made sure to include him in conversations and learn more about him. It feels nice. Nice to be seen as not just a Jedi but also a person. Someone aside from being a Force user and symbol of peace.
At the end of his first day accompanying you, Qimir reflects on his interactions with you. They cause his heart and stomach to go aflutter. He feels himself growing fond of you already and he feels guilty. Jedi aren't supposed to form close attachments to people. He scolds himself as he falls asleep in the room he's been provided in the palace. He can't fall for you. It's not the Jedi way. He needs to distance himself emotionally, he decides as he slowly falls asleep. The last thing on his mind being you.
______________________
You could tell your parents were stressed. With the assassin still at large, the King and Queen did their best to remain level-headed and resilient during this time. But you knew better.
Your parents continued to hold council meetings, each of them ensuring the council that the Jedi would be taking care of things. However, from what Qimir has told you, there aren't any leads. It's been a week since Qimir and the Jedi arrived, promising you safety and protection. Yet, they have nothing to show for it.
You suggested a day trip to the shore to distract your parents. Only your family and your respective Jedi protectors would be accompanying you.
You're building a sand castle with your sisters while your parents lay under the suns. You look up to see Qimir and Master Vernestra watching you. The other Jedis securing the area.
"Do you like Qimir, Y/N?" your sister, Ada, asks.
"Qimir is my friend, so yes, I like him."
"Do you like him like how mama and papa like each other?" Your other sister, Aspen, asks.
You look at her a little confused, "Why do you ask?"
Ada answers, "Because you look at Qimir the way mama looks at papa!"
Your eyes widen in shock and embarrassment. Have you been looking at Qimir a certain way? Sure, you two have grown closer over the week and you find peace in his companionship but do you like him in that way?
You open your mouth and then close it. You're not really sure how to answer. So you decide to change the subject. After all, your sisters can be blabber mouths when they want to be, "How about you find more shells to decorate our castle with?"
"Okay!" the twins reply in unison, both scrambling to their feet and running through the sand, picking up any shell that catches their eye.
You proceed to join your parents in their sun bathing. You sigh, sitting beside your mother. She turns to you, "What troubles you, starlight?"
You smile softly at her, "Nothing, mama. Just think this was a much needed break."
"I agree," she says, patting your arm, "Are you and the padawan still getting along?"
You nod, "Very much so. He's taught me a lot about the Jedi and he let me practice with his saber a few days ago! He-"
"I'm not sure I like him," your father says.
Your brows furrow and you quickly glance over your shoulder to Qimir and Vernestra. They seem to be discussing something, but feeling eyes on him, he turns to you and waves.
You wave back and turn your attention back to your father, "Papa, he's harmless."
"Maybe I should speak with Vernestra about switching Jedis. I don't like how close you're getting to the boy."
"What?! No! Papa-"
"If suitors see how close you're getting to him, no one will offer for your hand."
You look at him confused, "Suitors?"
Your mother gives the King a warning look, but he ignores her, "You're almost twenty-one. We've put off suitors long enough. The council want you to be married by the time you're twenty-five, at the latest."
"But why? I've proven myself to you time and time again that I don't need to be married to be seen as a competent leader. The people already respect me-"
"They'd respect you more if you were married to an equally, if not more, competent king."
You scowl, bringing yourself to your feet and walking away. You need to distance yourself from your father right before you say or do anything you'd regret.
__________________
Seeing your retreating figure, Qimir looks to his Master and she gives him a nod. He immediately goes to follow you.
"Hey! Princess Y/N! Wait!" he calls after you but his cries go unheard as you trudge further and further away from your family.
"Hold on! Don't go too far!" he grabs your wrist to stop you. You turn to reveal your red, tear filled eyes.
"What happened?" he asks softly.
"The usual," you mumble with a sniffle.
He's not sure why, but Qimir pulls you into his arms. He wraps his arms around you in a hug and you're frozen. You weren't expecting a gesture like this from him, but it feels nice.
So you let yourself wrap your arms around the Jedi, allowing yourself to cry into him as he holds you.
You two stay like this until your cries subside and you slowly pull away. You chuckle, wiping away any remaining tears, "Thank you, Qimir. You didn't need to do that."
He gives you a shy smile and a shrug, "I know, it just felt like the right thing to do."
You look over his shoulder and see Master Vernestra watching you two. You wince, "Looks like your master saw all that. Will you get in trouble?"
He shrugs, "Maybe, but I don't care....did you want to head back?"
You look out to the water, "Can we just sit here for a little?"
"Sure," Qimir says as he follows you to sit in the sand. You scoot closer to him and rest your head against his shoulder. He thanks the Maker that you can't hear or feel how hard his heart is pounding right now.
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blackleatherjacketz · 3 months
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Shadow and Sin: Chapter 8
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Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader
Summary: Having just recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers and don't find out who they are until it's too late.
This Chapter: Elijah gets answers about the attack while Klaus confronts you about playing hot and cold.
Warnings: Sexual References, Love Triangle, Infidelity (kind of), Lying, Manipulating, Love Bombing, Stalking, Alcohol, Face-Grabbing, Violence
Word Count: 2.6k+
Read the rest of the story HERE
Niklaus had always been cruel, ruthless and rash; often leaping before he looked, especially when it came to his own aspirations for accumulating power. Elijah had reluctantly grown accustomed to it over the centuries, always expecting a certain medieval level of mayhem, but being careless enough to put your life at risk was something he couldn’t allow to happen again. He knew that if he wanted answers and solutions, he had to approach his brother with caution, careful not to tip his hand too much toward his hidden truth.
“You know, I was beginning to worry when I didn’t hear you come in last night.” Niklaus feigns a tone of concern as he hears his brother’s footsteps echo against the walls of the courtyard, keeping his back to him as he pours two glasses of whiskey from the decanter. “I wonder what could have kept you burning that midnight oil for so long.”
Oh god, he knows… but maybe not.
“If you must know, I was busy cleaning up one of your messes in the quarter.” Elijah unbuttons his suit jacket as he approaches his brother from behind, trying to sound more annoyed than worried.
If he lets slip, even for a second, that he might have the inkling of a paramour, Niklaus would surely make it his business to find you and rip you to shreds right in front of him. He’s done it dozens of times to Rebekah’s lovers over the centuries, and to the very few women that Elijah has chosen to love by the light of day. The curse of his brother’s rage has bound Elijah to a life of secrecy when it comes to his romantic endeavors, dwindling them down to very few candidates and then eventually… to nothing.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific than that.” Niklaus turns around and hands him one of the glasses, a cunning smirk curling at his lips. “Getting the vampires of the city to clean up the streets after Marcel’s reign has turned into quite the tedious endeavor.”
“Niklaus, I do hope that you show a little more decorum when trying to control the human faction and their justice system in the future.” He quickly takes the glass from him and looks into his brother’s eyes, searching for any hint of remorse while finding none. “The whole point of intimidation is to keep them alive and… intimidated. The last thing we need is to draw attention from the authorities to a dead lawyer and his companion. He isn’t just some idle tourist.”
“Well, it’s hardly my fault that he wasn’t willing to comply with our long standing agreement, now is it?” He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans back against the bar, wondering why his brother is so bent out of shape over some measly lawyer’s life. He could easily be replaced by the next zombie in a suit to graduate from Tulane University, or anywhere else, really. “I simply told Isaac to make him forget my name and his curiosity about our family. Who am I to micromanage his methods of ensuring that result?”
So he DID give the order.
“So you condone this behavior in Marcel’s… in your new lackeys?” Elijah takes a breath, pointing a finger at him while the others grip his glass. “Compliance at any cost?”
“Why? Did the poor, insufferable attorney meet an unfortunate end?” Niklaus grins so wide that it wrinkles the skin around his ice cold eyes, making him look more mad than ever.
“Not quite. If I hadn’t intervened, he and the girl may very well have.” He takes a slow sip, waiting to see how his brother will react to the news of an innocent bystander getting in the way.
“Oh Elijah, always the hero, aren’t we?” Niklaus downs the rest of his drink and slams it loudly onto the bar, those chilling eyes now fixated on his brother’s expression. “What girl?”
Elijah utters a low growl of irritation to disguise just how grateful he is for the obvious confirmation that Austin was his only intended target. Niklaus appears not to have any idea that you’d be with him when he ordered the attack, the truth written plain as day across his face.
At least there’s that.
“It doesn’t matter.” He lies with a clench of his jaw, forcing himself to take another sip of the whiskey in an attempt to hide his face from his sibling. “I compelled them both to make sure they won’t be a problem in the future.” He hopes his embellishment is simple enough, even if the truth only applies to him grabbing hold of your brother and telling him to run home as fast as he could. “To keep our alliance with that faction strong.”
“Oh? And what of dear Isaac and good ole ‘what’s his name’? Is that their blood that’s ruined your precious Versace suit, brother?” He looks him over and grabs onto Elijah’s sleeve, noticing how completely stained it is with blood before bringing it up for both of them to see. “You fed someone?”
Memories of last night push themselves ahead of Elijah’s need for self preservation, the image of your face in his hands, illuminated by precious moonlight lingering in his imagination as Niklaus’ grip tightens around his wrist. He hadn’t anticipated things to escalate so quickly with you, but there was dried blood in your hair that needed washing, and only he could be sure to get all of it out for you.
How could he have known that you would offer to wash the blood off his body in return, inviting him into the warm mist of the shower along with you? How could he have predicted how perfect you’d feel in his arms, the euphoric sensation of your bare skin beneath his fingertips or your heart beating wildly against his? Water had never felt so good as it washed all the blood off your bodies, merging you two together in a blissful baptism of blood and sweat before it all washed away in a chorus of muffled moans. He never thought you’d open up to him so quickly, letting him rest beside you in your bed once you were both cleansed of the night’s horrors, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.
“Who was it?” Niklaus brings Elijah’s wrist closer to his face, nostrils flaring as he inhales the unique scent that you’d left on his sleeve as you fed, his pupils dilating before his irises glow a bright, infernal yellow.
He has to bury that thought, quickly.
“I ripped the hearts from your inept henchmen’s chests before they nearly killed the girl.” Elijah rips his arm from his brother’s grasp, his eyes narrowing as that fiery hue leaves the hybrid’s gaze. “I suggest you reel the rest of them in before things get too messy and we have to flee the city once more.”
—————————
The next few days were a hazy blur for you, trying to get ahold of your brother only to find out that you’d shattered the screen on your phone into a hundred pieces during the attack in the alley. You decided that you’d go and check on him after your slew of shifts at the hospital, counting down the hours as they passed while your patients slept surprisingly peacefully in their rooms.
After making your midnight rounds, you notice a new piece of artwork hanging at the end of the hall, the abstract painting bringing back all those deliciously heated feelings you have buried deep inside you reserved especially for Klaus. You approach it slowly, thinking that you might have lost your mind from all the trauma and sleep deprivation, but no, you’re sure of it; it’s definitely the painting that you and Klaus did together.
“You haven’t been returning my calls.” That sweet melody of his accent tightens the muscles in your abdomen, reminding you of the ache he once caused between your thighs. “If I were a weaker man, I might take offense to something like that, but luckily for you I’m very secure in my manhood.” His smile is laced with venom as he confidently takes the corner toward you.
“Klaus.” His name feels like a curse on your tongue as he catches you by surprise, that slow smirk spreading across his sinfully handsome face. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you’d be happier to see me.” He postures with his arms spread wide, his wingspan more than impressive. “I’m delighted to see you.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but my phone literally shattered to pieces the other day, and I just haven’t had time to go get it fixed.” You pull it out of your pocket to show him, knowing that he’d want physical proof. “And I’m at work, you can’t just… show up randomly and hang our painting for everyone here to see!” You lower your voice and look around the unit, realizing that there’s no one else around to hear you.
“Oh, I assure you, I can. I had hoped that you’d come by to see it in person, maybe even paint another one with me, but I understand that you’re busy with this little hobby of yours. This way you can always see our masterpiece and think of our time together, even when you’re here fighting the good fight against the inevitable clutches of death.” He smugly glances over at the crash cart before taking the stethoscope off your neck and putting it into his ears, pressing the bell against your chest. “My, your heart is racing!”
“Give me that!” You rip it off him, hurriedly placing it back onto your shoulders. “And that’s not fair. I wanted to come back, I was going to come and see it… eventually.”
How can you tell him that you’ve spent the last few nights with Elijah stroking your hair until you fall asleep? That a vampire who rips hearts out of people’s chests is able to make you feel safe and cared for?
“Eventually? Well, why the delay, love? Was it something I said? Something I did?” He smirks with a tilt of his head, his voice salacious and low. “After a night like that, I thought you’d be begging for more.”
“My brother and I,” you start shakily, “We were attacked a few nights ago, and I’m still a bit shaken up about it. So I’ve been picking up extra shifts here to stay out of trouble.”
“Attacked?” He exaggerates his feigned surprise with a raise of his eyebrow as he starts stepping toward you. “You and your brother, is it?” His tone lightens as he recognizes your familial bond with the man he ordered his men to silence, relieved that it isn't a romantic one.
“Yes.” Your legs instinctively move backwards in a mirrored motion with each stride that he takes, the heat between you building more than ever. “That’s what I said.”
“Attacked by what, exactly?” He pries further with that velvety voice of his. “A witch? A werewolf? A vampire?” He continues to advance on you, only stopping as your back hits the wall, forcing a tiny gasp out of you.
“A vampire,” you whisper, looking up into his darkening eyes as you feel his hand on your hip, pushing you against the wall a little too roughly. “You knew they were real this whole time, didn’t you?”
“Knew about them?” He smirks, seeming completely unphased by the conversation. “Love, I am one of them, have been for over a thousand years now.”
“A thousand years?” You ask, trying to ignore the stirring heat that burns bright inside your core. You wish that the time you’d spent with Elijah could wash away the feelings you have for Klaus, that his heroic actions would cancel out the obsessive pull you feel whenever you draw the same breath as him. But you can’t fight it, no matter how hard you try, and you absolutely hate yourself for it. You welcome the idea of blaming your desire for him on his supernatural powers of seduction, but part of you is afraid that it’s something more, something deeper than that. “But I’ve seen you in the daytime, I’ve watched you drink alcohol and coffee. I’ve seen your reflection in the mirror before.”
“I know it’s a hard pill to swallow, sweetheart, that you’ve been trying to convince yourself that the stories couldn’t possibly be true, but it happens to everyone before the veil is finally lifted. I knew you’d be able to handle it better than anyone else, and I can see that you’ve finally surrendered yourself over to it. So why don’t you tell me more about what happened that night? About what convinced you to embrace the truth?”
Damn, he’s good.
“We were attacked by two vampires after dinner and drinks.” It sounds so stupid when you say it out loud, but after everything you’ve seen, you can’t deny it anymore. Klaus may be bold and out of line, but he’s right. You’re done fighting your logical subconscious over what folklore can easily explain. “One of them bit me.”
“Mmmm, really?” He hums a tune of concern, grabbing onto your neck with his free hand and cautiously looking you over. “That’s funny, I don’t see any bruises or marks.”
“Another vampire came in and saved us, he gave me his blood.” You try to keep your story simple, careful not to use Elijah’s name or seem too familiar with him, lest you get found out. “He said it would heal me.”
“Did he, now?” His lips seem to take on that hypnotic quality as his voice drops down to a dangerous whisper, tempting you to lean in and kiss him. “And how did that make you feel, hmmm? Swallowing another man’s blood as it dripped down that throat of yours?”
“I was dying in an alleyway, Klaus.” You cut him off sharply, letting your anger finally break the spell of his seduction. “Where the fuck were you?” You attempt to push him off you with a huff before he grabs onto your wrists, quickly pinning them above your head with one hand.
“You don’t think I wanted to be there?! If I had known that you were in danger?” He raises his voice, despite his close proximity. “You don’t think that I would have protected you at any cost? I’m here now to make sure you’re alright!”
“Yeah, because you’ve been doing such a stellar job of protecting me so far.” You roll your eyes as you try to break out of his grasp, failing miserably as he slams your wrists back harder against the wall. He looks at you as if he knows it will only excite you more, his scent surrounding you completely as his hips dig into your belly, triggering your hormones into overdrive.
“You think that I’m here just for some frivolous tryst?” His full lips desperately ghost over yours, wiping away all thoughts of Elijah entirely. “That I share my secrets of immortality to just anyone? I mean to protect you, to guide you, to please you. I want to embrace all the darkest parts of yourself that you haven’t even discovered yet, to spend an eternity painting portraits of you throughout the ages, your cheeks freshly red from the dozens of orgasms I’ve just given you as you lay in sheets of rich opulence.” He cups your cheek, his hand nearly trembling as his eyes finally glisten with remorse. “Please, just let me prove it to you, and then my brother won’t have to save you next time.”
Your heart drops into the bitter acid of your stomach. “Your brother?”
----------------
Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel
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see-arcane · 1 year
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Lucy and Jonathan
“We met some time ago a man that would just do for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan.”
I’ll admit, while it probably wasn’t anything more than an airy throw-in without any real barbs behind it, the inflection on Lucy’s comment followed by the idle advertisement of upcoming character, Dr. John ‘Jack’ Seward, as a higher-up-the-ladder ‘what-if’ prospect, still kind of stung to hear. I know it’ll get sanded back in later chapters because—minor spoilers—context clues will show that Mina, Lucy, and Jonathan have known/been friendly with each other since they were kids, and comments from future letters will show a more mutual regard. So it makes me wonder what the reason for the implied derision was.*
*(Beyond her possibly trying to push Jack in a way that says ‘Nope, No, I Choose Not to See the Crush, No Thank You, Hot Potato.’)
My guess? It’s a bit.
Specifically, a holdover from hers, Mina’s, and Jonathan’s earlier days when all of them had grown into adolescence, social mores started getting hammered in in earnest, and Mina and Jonathan were just starting on their official courtship.
Suddenly, they’re no longer a trio of kids enjoying each other’s company. Now it’s two young ladies—one rich, one poor—and a charming young man—also from a lower class. Considering the period, it would be only too easy for whispers to start flying behind fans and cigars that the young Mr. Harker might consider leveling up his prospects, or that the lovely Miss Westenra, a veritable Victorian Helen of Troy, might idly snatch her low-born friend’s man out from under her nose on a whim. And aren’t they such a pretty picture? Quoting their Shakespeare at each other, so intriguingly close compared to most men and their ladies’ friends…unless there are certain extra friendly circumstances involved, ha ha.
A ribald comment too many from coworkers at Hawkins’ firm and a backhanded compliment or three at the latest spring ball probably shocked Jonathan and Lucy respectively into action. Bonus points if one of the inciting remarks came from some tittering debutante, “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two are so alike! Such sweet bonny things, parroting the Bard at each other, prattling merrily about the latest little outing without stopping for breath. Really, Lucy, he would just do for you.”**
**(Some have wondered if Lucy was nudging Jack toward Mina due to certain similar traits they shared. Some morose aspects, intensely focused, interests in modern technology. You’ll see when you meet him. Either way, it’s another parallel to ponder here.)
Cue Mina having to endure her loved ones defending her honor from being dubbed a victim of romantic betrayal in the most vaudeville manner possible. Though she should expect no less from Theatre Nerds 1 and 2.
When they go out, Mina is permanently sandwiched between them as if they’re ducking behind a red-faced shield. Lucy brandishes a parasol to ensure they’re at least the shaft’s length apart; sometimes she’ll even open it to make sure they’re not swayed by looking upon each other, may Heaven forbid such scandalous temptation! Jonathan sits on the bench with them with his hat pulled down over his eyes for safety’s sake. At least a quarter of an hour at the start of each outing is dedicated to a back-and-forth of:
Lucy, nose up so high she’s looking more at the ceiling than him: Mr. Harker.
Jonathan, checking his pocket watch to see how long he must endure this most arduous company: Miss Westenra.
Mina, head in her hands: It’s been months.
Lucy, scoffing: Months of torment in his presence.
Jonathan, scoffing harder: Agony in hers.
Lucy, on a fainting couch: However can you stand him, Mina?
Mina, about to pull her hair out of its pins: You helped him pick out the ring, Lucy.
Jonathan, picture of woe: Tormentedly, of course.
Lucy, nodding: Agonizingly.
In short, Jonathan 🤝 Lucy:
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fredwkong · 8 months
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Alphaworld File 1: Oral History
The universe is multifarious, constantly diverging as new choices are made. Spinning away through time, these alternate realities become locked away from our own, so we can never know exactly what would have happened if a single choice was made differently.
Except, sometimes, two of those worlds, careening through the upper dimensions, happen to converge. As they slide past each other, they may line up just so, each leaving behind fragments as they continue their journey into their divergent futures. You’ve never heard of this, because the remnants, mostly data, are swiftly collected by various government agencies and collected into reports on the intercepted reality.
This report collects various scientific articles, personal journals, news reels, and even a documentary series from one such reality, codenamed Alphaworld. In this world, gay men have not only become the norm, but have seemingly replaced all other people. In this world, society is stratified into an apparently biological hierarchy of homosexual castes, based on men’s physical characteristics and psychologies. Upon finishing the following fragment from a peer-reviewed article that was a trace recovered from Alphaworld, please select the next fragment you would like to consume.
X
An Oral History of the Creation and Initial Spread of the Alpha Phenomenon, by Alpha Dr. Jose Martinez
Until recently, it was not known what sparked the spread of the Alpha Phenomenon which has wholly remade the world in recent years. This was until Alpha Joshua Dearfoot, who resides with his Betas in rural ex-Ontario, stated during a livestream on OnlyFans that he is the original Alpha.
Alpha Dearfoot does not interact with Betas from outside his harem unless they renounce their current Alpha. As this research team contains no unbonded Betas—Alpha Dr. Martinez says we can’t spend too much time with non-harem Betas—we investigated among those close to Alpha Dearfoot, conducting interviews and surveying in the local area to discover as much as we could.
Joshua, as he was known before the emergence of the Alpha Phenomenon, was a PhD candidate in nanotechnology, with a secondary focus in physiology. Photographs kept by his father (Beta to Alpha Sean Barehill) reveal that through his youth and young adulthood Joshua was physically unimpressive, with a physique not even reaching the base level expected of a Beta.
According to a classmate of Joshua’s from university (Beta to Alpha Liam Oliver), Joshua was studious but insecure: “I mean, I used to push him around all the time for being a fa— gay kid. Gay and a nerd? In the Old World, that was, like, the worst thing.” When asked about whether he has properly apologised, the Beta said, in a rapturous voice, “Oh, yeah, Alpha Dearfoot was my first. He disciplined me so well I could barely walk, I came like four times. Then he told me to come join Alpha Liam’s harem. I mean, he wasn’t Alpha Liam then, I was one of the first guys to go full Beta on campus.”
It appears that Alpha Dearfoot had a difficult youth, growing up unable to meet certain Old World expectations of manhood. The masculine stereotypes of Native Americans also seem to have weighed on him, as he was entirely unable to meet them. As his father told us, “Joshua was a sweet kid, but he got bullied for being too short and scrawny, not matching the image of an “Indian” in all these bigoted kids’ heads. He was obsessed with growing bigger, which is why he went into physio.” Remember, in some communities it is normal for a Beta father to continue to refer to his Alpha son by his first name.
According to Sigma Harrison White, a former lab partner of Dearfoot’s who fucked us on his lawn in exchange for this interview, Joshua was obsessed with creating some way to become more manly. “He spent some really long evenings in the lab,” said Harrison while one of us squealed in the grass beneath him. “One morning he came out with this manic grin on his face, said that he’d finally done it, and ran off. Two weeks later, he came back a full Alpha.” At this point, Harrison’s pace slowed down as he became contemplative. “It was only after he started hooking up with all the queer guys on campus that we started becoming Alphas and Sigmas and stuff, too.”
Did Alpha Dearfoot intend for the Alpha Phenomenon to be infectious? A Beta from his harem claims not. “He got home from school one morning all excited about some project he’d finished,” the Beta told us—it seems that he and Alpha Dearfoot were childhood friends. “The next day, he seemed a little different, a little more muscular, more assertive. He seemed really satisfied for about a week, then he got scared. He just kept getting bigger. The day he got taller than me and nearly broke a bar at the gym doing deadlifts, I started feeling the Beta change.
“I went to him and started telling him about my muscle gains and all the weird thoughts and sensations I was experiencing, and he got really scared,” the Beta continued, his eyes distant. “I started to comfort him, and that was when we felt the bond form. It felt so right for him to be my first, to finger me open and fill me with his still-growing dick.”
While we pressed for more details about what may have been the first Alpha/Beta bond in history, the Beta refused to disclose more information, claiming that it was private to him and his Alpha. For the reader’s imagination, see Figure A to find a picture of Alpha Dearfoot from his Instagram profile.
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Alpha Dearfoot appears to have intended to create a nanomachine-based masculinity booster, and the transmissibility of the Alpha Phenomenon, as well as the behavioural and sexual changes it induces, were unintended side effects, perhaps introduced in the particles’ replication process. The effects of the Alpha Phenomenon on aging and physical fitness may also be unexpected consequences of Alpha Dearfoot's programming efforts.
According to Alpha Young Baek Hyeon, who lives in the former New York area with a mixed harem, he and Alpha Dearfoot attempted to “date,” an outmoded practice common in the Old World, during the early weeks of the Alpha Phenomenon’s spread. “Alpha DeWayne and I work well together,” Alpha Young told us by video call, “but we’re both pretty chill even since we changed. Alpha Dearfoot and I couldn’t even stand to be in the same room once I had transformed. He’s one of the most territorial Alphas I’ve ever met, he can barely stand to have another Alpha within a mile of him.” As Alpha Young spoke, we watched a well-trained Beta enter the room with a plate of apple slices and present them to his Alpha.
“He was really torn up about it, too. Even though we couldn’t stop yelling at each other in person or over the phone, he left me a ton of really sweet voice messages about how much he’d liked me before we became Alphas.” Alpha Young took a bite of apple and ruffled his Beta’s hair, causing all of us to shudder with phantom pleasure at the affection. With a contemplative expression, Alpha Young said, “No, I don’t think he meant for any of this to happen.”
While this study has yielded plenty of useful biographical information about the man apparently responsible for the Alpha Phenomenon that changed the world, we appear no closer to understanding the precise mechanism of that change. With better access to the programming of the nanomachines, perhaps it would be possible to reduce the natural aggressiveness of the Alphas, allowing Alphas like Dearfoot to return to their studies or jobs if they so wish. In the following section, we will propose potential opportunities for further research in the effort to isolate the Alpha Phenomenon.
Or vote on Strawpoll here: https://strawpoll.com/wby5A0vw8yA
This series is my way of celebrating reaching 2000 followers! I hope you enjoy this glimpse into Alphaworld and vote on what file you would like to see next. There is no strict update schedule, so you good boys better be on the lookout for a new chapter you can vote on ;)
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myfandomrealitea · 4 months
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I really wanted to ask you about this:
Do you have any advice of how to develop critical thinking and media literacy?
There are many, many ways you can practice critical thinking, evaluation and media literacy. At its most basic, you can access student resources for lower levels of education like earlier high school years and look at the examples and guidance given there. Rehashing this will often give you a good foundation to build off of and apply.
One of the main aspects of critical thinking involves discerning what is fact and what is opinion. A good portion of media analytics is opinion. What is 'bad' by one person's standards is 'sub-par' or even 'great' by another's. Similarly, the majority of fandom space is opinion-based. The main pitfall of fandom spaces is that everyone wants their opinion to be taken as fact, which is where critical thinking and even basic communication begin to fall away.
"I'm right and you're wrong" and "this is the way it should be, if you do it or think differently, you're wrong" are common roadblocks people run into when engaging with things like media analysis and even basic fandom activities like fanfiction.
'Mischaracterisation' is fanfiction is one popular topic, especially here on Tumblr. What people often fail to recognize is the true creative depth of fanfiction and using someone else's pre-existing characters. Characters as they are in the source material may not make the choices or behave in the ways necessary to activate or validate certain plot material or author intentions in fanfiction. Which is, inherently, one of the main points of fanfiction. Exploring the alternate.
While you might immediately recoil and say "he'd never do that!" you then have to sit back and recognise that that's exactly the point. That this iteration of that character is not meant to directly reflect the source material. Its a re-imagining, a re-interpretation. That doesn't mean its bad. Its simply different.
'Mischaracterisation' is only actually applicable in fandom spaces when someone is trying to insist as a blanket fact that a character would do something or behave in a way that blatantly contradicts their canon behavior, opinions, morals and perspective or deliberately interpreting an action in biased bad faith. It is not actually applicable to fanfiction where creative liberty dictates you can do whatever the fuck you want with a character because you're not trying to claim it as part of the source content.
Questions To Ask Yourself
Am I reacting to [media] emotionally instead of rationally? Is my emotional response to [media] blinding me to the rational or critical approach(es)?
Am I allowing my expectations to get in the way of me understanding [media] fully? Am I forming a biased negative opinion of [media] because it isn't meeting my expectations?
Even if I disagree with [media], do I actually understand it? Can I recognise the reasoning behind choices made or actions even if I don't agree with them?
Am I searching too hard to hidden meaning or purpose in absolutely everything? Can I recognise what is simply passive information/detail and what is active information/detail? (E.g; English tutors saying a character's curtains are blue because they're depressed when throughout the literature its passively reinforced that blue is the character's favorite color.)
Even though I disagree with the statement or opinion shown, is it necessary to argue against it? Is there any benefit to making my counter-opinion known or is it simply a no-end argument? Am I just using arguing as a means of release/fulfilment? Am I treating this person poorly because of their opinion/statement?
Resources
Critical Thinking Exercises & Explanations #1 The Critical Thinking Activity Workbook Early Stage Critical Thinking Games Five Media Literacy Activities Six Media Literacy Ideas
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i4bellingham · 2 years
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LOVESTRUCK : jude bellingham x fem!reader
synopsis: in which you and jude reveal your relationship for the very first time during one of his games. // not proofread + english is not my first language so please bare with me :> WORLD CUP ENDS TONIGHT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
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As the whistle blew for the last time indicating England’s win, the crowd of white and blue erupted in jolly cheers filling the entire stadium with their merriment celebration for their team’s gratifying win.
The guys huddled close in the field, hugging and celebrating with wide smiles some with teary-eyed gaze that glistened amidst the stadium lights before they thanked the fans for their support.
Proudly wearing the England NT jersey with Jude’s number and last name, you couldn't be any more proud to see his growth and success reach new heights as you cheered and clapped at the seating area.
There had always been worries coming from his side, certain insecurities that often clouded him in a glum haze before you're there easing his worries down and making him remember the level of football he's managed to be at in such a young ageㅡ with a successful career at that. He's always got something in mind, nitpicking certain things that he could've done better at every game until he's drowning and overthinking his entire career, as if he's not a starter and a star player of the England National Team in the World Cup, in addition to his success as Dortmund’s most recognizable rising star players.
It was so easy for him to lose himself in his thoughts, but it was just as easy for you to pull him out of his drowning self-doubts so to see him shine, all smiley and happy in the pitch with his teammates after an excellent game and a good win, it brings a proud warmth to your chest. Standing next to you were his parents who stared at their son just as proud.
You watch for a few more moments as the boys celebrated before they're approaching the bleachers where the team’s family are seated.
You catch Jude’s eye before he's even walking in your general direction. He blows you a kiss, mouthing ‘I love you’ before he turns to his parents to do the same.
After that they were ushered to do cool-downs before being escorted back to the locker rooms, some of the NT’s staff being held back for interviews as the boys filed to enter the tunnel with their loud chatter.
          ㅡ ♡ ㅡ
“Ah! There’s our boy!” Jude hugs his father first before he does the same to his Mum. He's already got changed into a fresh England Strike Drill top with shorts and his sock-clad feet in slippers, freely wrapping each of his parents in a hug without needing to worry about his sweat or the grime and dirt that usually clung on his jersey shirt.
His Mum pats his chest, beaming a proud smile before planting a kiss on each of his cheeks, telling him how proud they are of everything he's achieved.
You simply sat by their side, watching with a content smile on your face before his Mum turns around and makes way for Jude to reach you. You see her shoot you a cheeky wink before she's ushering her husband to sit a little bit further than where they were previously seated.
You stand up to meet Jude, expecting just a simple hug as a form of greeting because after all, you haven't really revealed the status of your guys’ relationship. Everyone knew you as ‘Jude’s best friend’ but not yet as ‘Jude Bellingham’s girlfriend’. And with the number of camera snapping photos almost every second in the stands, you couldn't help the gasp that leaves your lips when you're being pulled by your lovely boyfriend as he gives you a kiss on the lips.
With wide eyes, you tap his arm in panic.
“Cameras!” You tell him. He pays them no mind before he's dragging you to sit down and almost having your entire left leg over his lap, an arm thrown over your shoulder before he gives your cheeks a kiss each.
“Jus ignore ’em love, been buggin’ me for so long I forgot they even exist sometimes.” You knew Jude didn't even care for them, much less for probably giving them something to post and write about the exclusivity of your relationship with him. Instead, Jude leans his head on your shoulders, adjusting his arm to loosely hang on your waist. “’m so happy you're here.”
And with that, he's successfully able to deter your attention from having your relationship outed to the public with such a simple statement.
You flick his other hand that was on your lap before he latches onto it, holding it against in between your’s and his thigh.
“Of course I’d be here... you’d given me the tickets haven't ya?”
Jude scoffs at your jab, pinching your side that almost made you squeal.
“Now don’t be a smartass,” he tells you, voice donning a tired edge yet he still entertains your remark. “Who else was I s’posed to give ’em anyways... my brother can't come here with us.”
Hearing the mention of his younger brother, you perk up. “Speaking of Jobe, I got him some things while I was out yesterday... I know he doesn't need the boot but I got him another pair in his favorite colors.”
“You got my brother somethin’ but nothin’ for me?” Jude asks, feigning a shockㅡ an overdramatized one that he uses ever time he’s being a tease and playful. “Are ya playin’ favorites now?”
“If I had to pick a favorite between the two Bellingham brothers then I’d chose Jobe. A right choice isn’t it? He did get me my favorite ice cream flavor right that one time...”
“Babe it was one time!”
You gasp, “Jude Victor William Bellingham we’ve been dating for a year and a half during that time! Was only right for you to know my favorite ice cream flavor, no?”
Jude sighs dramatically, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. “To be fair you do tend to pick random flavors based on your mood, that’s my only defense for this case.”
“... alright then, fair enough.”
He raises a fist, weakly uttering a ‘yes’ before he's back to leaning against you, head nearly against your chest.
“Tired?” Jude nods his head silently. You guide him to lay over the remaining unoccupied seats, seeing that his parents were nowhere in their spot that they had previous scooted into.
You let your boyfriend lay his head over your lap before you're reaching over for your coat inside your bag. You drape it around his dozing frame, pulling the edge around his ankles where his socks doesn't reach and running your free hand through his curls, the other being cuddled against his chest as he slept.
Jude places a kiss on your knuckles, muttering the same three words against your skin that he mouthed not even an hour long ago, completely disregarding the eyes and cameras that had long fixated their attention and lenses on the both of you.
Unsurprisingly, the both of you reached multiple media outlets the next day. Articles after articles, photos after photos and a ton of both short and long video clips taken by some fans bombarded the internet enough to get the thought across.
Jude Bellingham was off the market and was very much evidently in love with you.
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a/n: my tumblr glitched three times i thought i lost this entire piece thank fuck for the restore button 😭
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