#Will write a part two for this later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaehyunmirae · 25 days ago

Text

return the favor | l.jn

jeno x female reader.

FILTHYYYYY!!!! mirror sex, fingering (lots of fingering), praise kink, humiliation, shameless porn, oral (receiving and giving), manhandling, overstimulation, did i mention- filthy as fuck?

jeno could feel your body tense as he held you close.

he never stopped kissing you everywhere—your lips, your neck, your chest—like he’s out to devour what’s left in your lungs the way he’s leaving you breathless every step of the way.

“please let me do everything for you tonight,” he pleads.

you can sense his experience during times like this. even when his words feigned meek obedience, his steps were bold and that overwhelming confidence made you want to hide as much as it makes you want him so desperately.

jeno leads you to the bedroom. while making out, you slowly gained the confidence to fight for dominance, only focusing on his lips and the way his hands traveled across your body.

he lets you lead for a while, entertaining your illusion believing you'll have your way with him. engrossed with a million different sensations, you missed his real intentions. jeno sits at the edge of the bed, placing you between him and the mirror.

"show's over baby," his voice deepens, catching you off guard.

it took you a few seconds to process what he said before gripping your waist, spinning you around to face the mirror. you caught the look on his face, smirking while maintaining direct eye contact through the reflection. jeno stands up, then gently pushes you to take two steps forward.

a pit formed in your stomach.

he kisses your hair, then your temple, and your cheek. he hums nonchalantly, pushed all your hair to one side, and nudged you to tilt your head. this way he had full access to your neck, first dragging his nose across the nape, his lips on your sensitive skin.

"don't close your eyes. watch me."

he stays clothed while taking off every piece of clothing off your body one by one. every part of your bare skin revealed by his undressing did not go untouched, massaged by his hands or tasted by his tongue. too much, too many for you to handle, yet too quick, too soft for you to feel satisfied.

you tried reaching out to him, pulling on his shirt and trousers as a protest. he knows you were getting impatient, bothered by him keeping his clothes on still.

"-wanna see you," you whispered, shuddering as his hand grazed too close to your core without hesitation.

"keep your panties on," he avoided your plea and chuckled.

jeno sits back down and pulls you into the bed with him. now, you're both sitting on the edge, facing the mirror directly.

he slowly spreads your legs, smiling as he noticed the wet spot. he starts kissing your neck and shoulders again before his hand found its way inside, feeling your wetness on his fingers.

you instinctively closed your legs but he pulls them apart with his other hand, putting a little bit more pressure than usual.

“look up, baby. look at how beautiful you are.”

jeno waits until you eased through his touch. he pulls the fabric to the side, gathering your wetness to spread them across your folds.

deeply embarassed and turned on at the same time, you were torn between closing your eyes and hide or watch his fingers play with your pussy all night long. your conflict was evident in the way your moans escaped your lips. they betrayed your efforts to keep your composure, and jeno was loving every minute of it.

jeno lifts you up from behind to get your panties off, tossing them behind, "i need to stretch you out. okay, baby?"

you nodded quickly, finding yourself a little too ready to act coy. jeno slowly entered his middle finger inside you, showering you with praises.

"so wet, so easy.. hmm."

jeno continued kissing your shoulder while moving his finger in and out, feeling you shake under his touch. he whispered his praises by your ear, distracting you from the discomfort of adding another digit, until he was able to comfortably fit three.

“f-fuck…” you moaned when he curled his fingers, feeling his palm rubbing your clit at the same time.

“you're so wet- shit, can you hear that?”

jeno takes his hand to lift your chin up, urging you to watch him through the mirror. torn between feeling embarrassed and turned on by the obscene sight before your eyes, you watched as jeno fucked you from behind with his fingers. tears streaming down your face ruined your mascara but jeno has never seen you so breathtaking.

“oh my fucking- argh..” holding back your moans, you bit your lip to muffle the sinful sounds escaping out of your mouth despite drowning in the intensity you were losing yourself in.

“are you scared that the people next door can hear us?”

“y-yeah…”

“don’t be shy. be loud for me," he kept his eyes on you through the mirror, encouraging you to be as loud as you can, "let them hear you.”

you arched her back, feeling your orgasm building, "-gonna come.”

“already? we barely started-"

“please- it's too much. fuck!"

"okay, then come. don't fight it.”

you screamed jeno's name, hit with the embarrassment as reality dawns upon you. you just watched herself come in front of the mirror. for the first time.

“i can't believe you came just from my fingers.”

jeno took off his shirt, wiping his hand with it before tossing it behind you. turning to look at his face, your vision still trying to adjust from reaching your high, he kisses you. he was absolutely gone and aroused from what he witnessed, keeping a mental note to fuck you in front of the mirror more often.

it took every fiber of your being to stop yourself from jumping on his bones. you turned your whole body towards him, planting your palms on his chest, climbing on top of him, and feeling him up through his trousers, "did you get hard from that?”

"holy shit- who wouldn't? you just came from my fingers.”

“let me return the favor.”

“oh no. i already said i want to do everything for you.”

“no-" you stopped him from fighting with your lips. following his methods, you started kissing and licking him all the way from his chest to his v-line, distracting his senses as you unbuckled his belt to pull his pants and boxers down.

jeno was so fucking hard that he couldn’t protest the second your hand wrapped around him. no part of him wanted you to stop.

“i want you to feel good.”

“it’s so sensitive, fuck- slow down-”

“no- fuck you! as if you slowed down for me," you snapped before taking him in.

licking him from the shaft all the way to the head, you were determined to make his head go wild. you bat your eyes at him, looking up from underneath, making the image even more obscene than what you're doing with your mouth.

“fuck,” jeno covers his face, going crazy from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, "-m not gonna the last if you keep going.. ugfh-"

“told you i'm returning the favor," you laughed as you moved your wrist, pumping his dick. saliva was dripping down your chin when you took his cock out of your mouth. again, without warning and without paying any mind to the mess you've made, you took his cock in your mouth, much deeper this time.

“i'm gonna come- shit!”

you opened your mouth wide open, earning a quiet “what the fuck” from jeno. you nodded without saying anything more. he tries to stop and try to find another way to unload but he simply couldn’t help himself as your hand kept moving, leaving him no choice but to come inside your mouth.

swallowing it all, you felt a drip escaping from your lips. your eyes watered from the sensation of his load shooting at the back of your throat but the sight of jeno falling apart from your touch was worth it. jeno pulls your face up, his heart dropped all the way down to his stomach after realizing what just happened.

“what the fuck- you're killing me, do you know that?"

jeno kisses you hard, tasting himself on your tongue

he lifts you up and drops you down the bed without breaking contact. he starts kissing down your body and positions his head in between your thighs.

“now, i want you to come from my tongue.”

you had the whole zoo roaring in your stomach after hearing that, barely voicing out, “what” from your hoarse throat after sucking him off. jeno's lips trail across your inner thighs. he starts licking stripes towards the direction close to your pussy, not quite licking you in the right places.

“let me clean you up," he says referring from your come earlier.

“b-but i'm not recovered from earlier, fuck.. jeno-”

“no time to recover, babe. my favor's all yours."

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno #nct #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #lee jeno hard hours #jeno hard hours #nct hard thoughts #two lost drafts and three hours of sleep later #this one was a lot of fun to write but holy shit im tired #i need to sleep #my smut these days never reach to the good part my goodness #haha maybe one day one of the neos will finally hit the home run lol #good night (it's 2:43 am)

262 notes · View notes

cubbyhole-for-flea-bee · 4 months ago

Text

Once the theatre monkey discovers angsty broadway musicals its all over y'all

or: I got a new personal project I'm workin' on! I'm at the first pass on the animatic rn! I forgot that 'generate matte' is a thing you can do in SB Pro for a whole hour!! I'm suffering!!!

#lmk #lego monkie kid #animatic #wip #storyboarding #fanart #six eared macaque #liu'er mihou #lmk macaque #shadowpeach #sun wukong is not here but he is haunting the mini-narrative #mac thinks HE's doing the haunting lol nah dude your ex-mans is living rent-free in ur cranium #I heard this song in a 'cartoon villain playlist' and only learned later it was from a play and went like:#“and i can feel bitter shadowpeach feels in this chilis tonight”#something something Denial something something river in Egypt #this is what happens when u don't talk about your feelings #POV: you're on the downward spiral but you're taking it like a waterslide #for real my favorite part of mac's character arc is where he's justifiably Bitter About It #but that won't stop him from being UNjustifiably a huge piece of work and Extremely Biased about it #it being the past events where two monkies both managed to fumble the bag in adjacent but slightly different ways #macaque ilu but u are not genre-savvy sometimes #i know mac is a chinese character BUT #he would totally spell theatre <- this way if he learned to read/write in english #i actually headcanon that his magical celestial monkey hearing would make it REALLY easy to pick up new languages but not the writing #oop i forgot: song is For The Record from 36 Questions #which I have not seen so idk how thematically relevant the og song context will be here

391 notes · View notes

chronologically-challenged · 5 days ago

Text

Final Bow pt1.

Summary: The Director is "defeated" in a sense. The party brings her to the well on zir request. Of course, Loop is there. Normal reactions happen all around.

@askoverkill

(This is a bit of a theory fic, but mostly "this image won't get out of my head, so I decided to write it down" sort of thing. Part 1 is Loop's POV. Part 2 will be dawn. Enjoy!)

---

You see him in person for the first time in several eternities.

You know what the Director looks like. Their shining face and night dusted skin all dressed up in a jester costume is blazed in her mind. If you give yourself a moment to think too long, you could pick out all the details the Director foolishly kept of their previous self that even they couldn't scrub clean. Their eyes, their brows, even the way the light that shines from their head gives an impression of hair left unbrushed in a certain way. But you don't look too long. You haven't in so many outer loops. In fact, despite the affectionate name that threatens to spill out of your traitorous tongue, you first and foremost see the Director as every other Siffrin sees them, a fool and an executioner in one, a malicious joke ready to put the punch in punchline at a moment's notice.

Now? It's difficult to see how they could ever be a threat at all.

The rest of the party leads the procession. Odile first, Isabeau second, with Bonnie sprinting past them the moment they see dawn already standing up to meet them midway. You watch them all impassively, only noting the two halves of the Director's cracked mask in Odile's hands.

No, while Lupus, dusk, and dawn run up to the party, your focus is at the entrance of the clearing.

Mirabelle trails behind, holding the Director's hand. Their face is free of the mask for the first time since it's mattered. Somewhere along the way they lost their jester's hat.

They have no mouth. They have no symbols across their cheeks. Only his eyes persevere through the harsh light.

Unbidden, the image of your stardust carefully trailing their finger in the dirt flashes bright in your mind. Their hat covered his expression, but you could still see just how careful he was to make each simple detail. Then with a small nod, they leaned back to show you, well you.

A shining head. Half crescent eyes. No clothes to speak of. A star in your chest.

That was you. This was what you looked like.

You asked for them not to loop too early. They hadn't. In fact, you think, maybe, they let themself linger for once. Gave you time to memorize it. How else could you remember even now? How else could you in your weakest moments, redraw the small sketch as clear as the day your stardust bestowed it to you?

The Director does not have crescent eyes. In fact, only one eye shines through the insistent light. It's an eye shape you knew all too well. Or perhaps, you never truly knew them at all.

The Director freezes when they see you.

Mirabelle tugs at their hand. “Siffrin?”

Three heads swivel towards her. Dusk, dawn, and the Director all at once head her call. Lupus clutches at both dusk's and dawn's cloaks, glaring up at the Director.

And you? You don't move from the steps of the well. You can't bring yourself to.

Even across these eons, you are just unhelpful, useless Loop.

“This is weird,” you hear Bonnie say. This causes a round of banter between the party. “No, it's not” “It kinda is.” “Well, you get used to it.” “That doesn't help, Siffrin.” and on and on.

The Director and you add nothing. After all, your current roles aren't fit for such antics.

“So, what're fae doing here?” Lupus eventually interrupts. They point to the Director with a sneer, pointedly bringing their ‘Siffernts’ closer to them the best they can with only two hands. “We beat you. Go away.”

“Lupus,” dusk warns, then looks back to the Director. They try to hide the child under their cloak.

Dawn only eyes the Director warily. You can tell they're waiting for a final twist, for the show to finally end with a “more fitting” tragedy. If luck would have, only you and the Director will be the tragedians in this version of this play.

The Director does not take the child's bait. They barely seem to acknowledge anyone else at all. Their grip loosens from Mirabelle's hand, sliding out almost unnaturally from her grip. She shouts out to catch them, but they've tucked their hands to their chest far too quickly.

Their eye still hasn't left yours.

Isabeau quarters dawn away from the path of the Director and raises his fists. Odile stops him a second before he strikes out. “Wait, a minute,” she hisses. You don't hear the rest of their arguing.

The Director brushes past them, unconcerned.

“No, wait, Loop!!! Get out of there! Run away from her!!!” Finally, someone, dusk you think, gets it.

You wonder if it's the way the Director stalks like a lion across the worn path. Or the uncanny silence the otherwise bombastic jester tends to have. Or maybe it was the way their previously dejected body shot up when they realized who was on the steps.

You knew because you watched them this entire time. It would be kinda hard not to realize.

But even if you hadn't, you'd be an idiot not to see with just one look how much they want to eat you alive.

This is your final stand in this concluding act.

The Director stops at the base of the steps.

Silence chokes the crowd.

“Loop,” they finally say.

“Director,” you call back.

The look in their eye has not faded.

“You must hate me.”

Obviously? You don't designate that with a response. There's no point.

They move again. They raise a foot and the heel clanks against the stairs.

“I deserve it. I know I do.” Their head tilts, and for the first time since they've seen you, their eye twitches. You realize after a moment, they're trying to smile without that mask for a mouth. “So say it. Say you hate me.”

They step up the stairs.

“Say it.”

Another.

“Say it.”

And another. They're close enough that you can feel their matching star pulse in their chest.

“No even better, kill me and get it over with! Not like you haven't tried already!!!”

Quicker than you can see, they grab your hands and clasp their around their own throat. Their fingers lock into yours, painfully intertwining them. The skies on your hands meld into one another into one starry canvas.

Around you, the audience gasps and then shouts all at once.

“Siffrin, that's enough!” “Gems alive.” “Please stop…” “I thought we were done with this.” “I knew this was a bad idea.” “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!!!”

You feel the heat of the Director's throat, and the subtle movement of their breaths, and the way their fingers tremble in yours, and their eye swallowing you whole as they wait for you to make the next move, and you wonder briefly if dawn rewound time in this frozen moment because it stretches on and on and on and on and on, as you memorize the Director's face the same way you did your own lifetimes ago.

You try to uncurl your hands from their throat. They latch on tighter.

“Come on, I know you want to! Or is it?” The Director gasps playfully, “Oh! Don't want to get your hands dirty, do you Loop? That's low even for you.”

That's enough. “Shut up, Director.”

“Aww, are you-” they try, but you interrupt their nonsense quickly.

“No, shut up. I'm talking now. You wanted to say something, I'm saying something.”

Their eye narrows. “Go on~,” they purr out, but with the way their nails dig into your hands, you can tell they wanted to snarl.

Their attention is all on you. Even with your hands on their throat, the stage set for you, and the audience watching for your next words, you never felt any less in control. Their nails claw into you, and even now you know this loop, this miracle could end any moment. One wrong thought from dawn could take this away from you. But you'd gone and done the stupidest thing and let yourself actually hope again. Hope that the party could get through to the Director. Hope that Lupus and dusk could keep dawn afloat long enough to get the party back. Hope beyond hope that there was enough of your stardust in the Director to end this play once in for all.

So you ask, hoping it to be true. “Is it over?”

The Director blinks, clearly not expecting the question. Their grip loosens ever so slightly around their own throat. “...pardon?”

“Is. It. Over?” you hiss. They know what you mean. Asking again, they eye flickers in amusement. You can practically see where their Cheshire grin should be.

“I doooooon't know,” they sing, “Is it?”

“Director.”

They look to you, then to dawn, and back. You don't miss how dawn flinches. The Director shrugs.

“I think that's a question we all want to know,” you hear Odile say.

You can feel the Director suppress a laugh. Their throat jumps against your fingers.

“What's so funny?” You ask.

“Oh, you know. Just! The irony! Asking ME for the answers when I can't know. Not really.” The Director rests their chin on your wound fingers and presses harder.

Bonnie, thank the Stars, interrupts this nonsense. “WeirdFrin stop being weird and answer their question.”

The Director sits back up. The light around their head dims the slightest bit. “If someone, not naming names, loops, then that's that! None of us will remember any of this. Except. That isn't the case is it?” They scratch at your hands. “We have, what do you call them, dawn and dusk? They'll remember. And of course, you Loop. You'll always know. So I'll ask you, what do you think? Is it over?”

You have to hope that the loops are done on dawn's end. That a promise of something after all this, a promise of the time after this is enough. You don't know, can't know if this is truly it.

Especially if the jester in front of you ruins it.

You ask, far too loud in the silent clearing. “Are you done?” You feel your fingers trembling.

“Yup! Done talking. Your turn~.”

“No. Are you done? With.” You look their costume up and down. “All this.”

Their eye widens, but the performance is back in a heartbeat, eye closing in a fake smile. “...........I asked first!“

“Actually I did!” you counter back. For good measure, you squeeze, just a bit. Two performers can play at this game.

And the Director is many things, but no one can say they do not play their part. “Ah! You did, didn't you!” They hum, long and loud. The sound buzzes up your hands into your arms, and almost all the way to your head. In the distance, you see the party tense. They're talking to each other, something about stopping this before it gets out of hand, which doesn't make sense. Nothing has happened yet and nothing will get done if no one says what they need to. Your hands may be around their throat, but the Director might as well be in the labyrinth for all it matters.

“In. A certain sense,” they say slowly. “If you look at a certain angle. Where I have any real control here… Then yeah. I'm done. Thegreatvillainhas finallybeendefeated.Hooray.Youdidit.Woohoo.Yaddayaddayadda. ANYWAY!” They clutch their hands against yours, and you briefly see a shimmer of a sharp toothy grin against the endless light of their face. If you squeeze any tighter, you'd block their windpipe. “Since you've finally won, why don't you just get it over with already and just kill me. Ya know. For old times sake.”

Your fingers press against their throat. A god's life in your hands. It probably wouldn't kill them if you finished choking them. Because of that, it would be cathartic just to squeeze, for everything they did to every other Siffrin, for what they did to the world, for what they did to you.

But…

But-

-It's over.

They tried to hide it behind a sneering veneer, but you got what you needed.

It's over, Stars. It's finally, finally over.

Why would you need anything else?

You squeeze once. The Director's eye widens, first in fear then into a feral vindication.

The look fades as your hands go to their shoulders, their back, and finally you don't see their expression at all, as you surely, fully press them chest to chest, star to star, breaths catching in the other's ears.

They flinch, of course. You pretend not to notice. You also pretend how despite how they try to not lean into your touches, they shiver as your hands run down their back.

“What are you doing?” He hisses.

You hum. “Isn't it obvious?”

They shiver. “Stop it. I-”

You wait for them to continue, but they don't. That won't do. “You?” you prompt.

“...You should hate me.”

“Okay.” You do.

“I hate you.”

“Okay.” You hold them tighter. Their arms start to waver, almost falling to your back.

You hate them, you should kill them, and it's tempting. But also why should you?

It's over. It's over it’s over it’s over-

“I put you through all of this,” your stardust tries to counter, “I hurt you, I hurt them, I'm a monster, you shouldn't be-”

“-I dont care.”

They try to push you back, but they end up flailing uselessly against your back. “What!?”

“You're done, right?” You press your hands against their back, and they let out a little gasp. They're trembling.

“...yes?”

“Then I don't care,” you repeat, resolute, “Stars, I don't even care anymore.”

They're here. They're done. That's all you need. That's all you've ever wanted.

They don't say anything for a time. You just hold them, far more gentle than they deserve, but you want to give them just the same. Slowly, his hands fall onto your back.

“...I didn't even say sorry,” they protest weakly.

You huff. “I didn't either. Would it help?”

They don't say anything back, only dig their nails into your back.

‘No.’ They don't need to say. ‘No, it wouldn't.’

It's for the best. You're not sure either of you would accept the other's apologies. No use ruining this with a harsh reality.

“Then we're done,” you say both for you and them. “It's over, stardust. It's finally over.”

“...Oh.”

You expect a quip. Maybe them to push you back. You're surprised, when they simply lean into you, and finally, finally hold you back.

Your own breath hitches at their warmth.

In a minute you'll need to let them go and ask them what the hell their plan is from here. Dusk, dawn, Lupus, the party, all of them will want explanations. It's inevitable this moment will end, as all moments should, even if they haven't for forever.

Until then, you hold your stardust tight. Becuase they're home here. They're here with you.

And with a miracle like that, who cares about anything else?

#isat #writing tag #overkill au #tw strangulation #luna writes #some things: yes loop only uses he/they for the director/stardust #subconciously they use only the pronouns they view them by despite saying they only see zem as the director #trying to make that a point by having everyone else use different pronouns #you can absolutley tell I have no idea how dusks story concludes #Im sorry dusk youre just kinda here ♥️#implication that lupus realizes what has been happening with dawn and how its the directors fault #goes from “toxic yaoi is entertaining” to “wait no protec ny sifferents-”#also yes implication that the party were told who loop and the director were and thats how they won #lots of little things #anyway part 1 was character study and part 2 is gonna be more of the REAL image that burned my mind #wasnt gonna be 2 parts but I realized they had two separate tones to them #will write the second part later anyway hope you enjoyed!

143 notes · View notes

controld3vil · 1 year ago

Text

atreides and bene gesserit

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.

notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?

When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.

The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.

You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"

"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.

"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.

"Mmhmm! So all of them?"

"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."

"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"

"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."

"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"

"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.

"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.

Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"

"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"

"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'

"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"

"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"

"You're living your dream right now!"

In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.

Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.

"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.

"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.

You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.

Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.

"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.

"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."

It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"

Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"

"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."

"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"

"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"

You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"

Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"

The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"

Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"

Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.

Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.

You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.

You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.

Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.

"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"

"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.

Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.

But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."

"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.

"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"

Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.

"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"

"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.

"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"

"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."

"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"

"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.

The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.

"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"

"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"

"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"

"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"

Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."

"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.

"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.

Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.

"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.

"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.

Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"

"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.

"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.

You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"

"Really?!"

"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."

"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."

"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.

By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.

A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.

Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.

901 notes · View notes

shoot-i-messed-up · 6 months ago

Text

Was always worried about the angst of unrequited love, had never realized the sheer amount of comedic potential that it has.

Imagine one-sided Superbat where Clark is fully aware that Bruce has a crush on him but is being his repressed self about it, and Clark is just like, “I’m not gonna touch that :) you’re going to figure that out for yourself, buddy, and in the meantime, I’m just going to have a good time and be best friends with you as you inevitably pull yourself together enough to either fall out of love or to confess :) and I’ll just let you down gently because I care about you :)” but he absolutely 100% is using it to his advantage in the meantime. His puppy dog eyes had never been so effective before. He’s gotten out of Monitor Duty three times in the past month.

#altho tbh personally if *I* were writing this all out I WOULD make requited superabt endgame #because it’s more fun #like clark is slowly falling in love with bruce while bruce is slowly coming to terms with being in love with clark #like bruce fell both faster and harder because. have u seen clark. who wouldn’t fold #meanwhile the justice league tease the shit out of bruce #and i picture clark as being a hell of a good actor because he HAS to be for his identity to work even more so than bruce or anyone else #so he’s very much able to keep his own feelings quiet when he realizes that he’s returning bruce’s love #and hey maybe u CAN bring the angst full circle back into this premise #like 1) clark believes somehow that people will inevitably fall out of love w him and that includes bruce #and 2) bruce when he finally figures out his own feelings for clark (way later than everyone else figured out him) probs realizes that clark #knew this whole damn time and didn’t say a word. and bruce is both justifiably mortified and falsely certain that clark does not return his #feelings because he’d have said smth by now if he did #even tho atp i would have clark return his feelings #also if u don’t believe clark wouldn’t 100% be a little shit about bruce’s feelings may i just present #literally everything he’s done to lois ever in every superman canon ever #<- i’m not saying that like he bullies lois or would bully bruce in this fic premise bc they both give it as good as they’ve got #and they very much pull a lot over clark so it all evens out or even falls in the other’s favor more often than not #anyway. yeah that’s my one (1) superbat fic premise.#part of the reason why i LOOOVE superbat and clois but haven’t written jackshit for either of them yet is that #i feel like there’s sooooooo many fics for both of them that i could not explore smth new with them ykwim #er well in the case of lois not just fics but like sooo many clois canons with their own takes and exploratons #superbat #superman #clark kent #batman #bruce wayne #simu's two cents #dc #also i wouldn’t touch the batkids with a ten foot pole.

103 notes · View notes

platoapproved · 10 months ago

Text

#rose reads tvc #LITERALLY SPEECHLESS #lestat: i hate armand #lestat 10 minutes later seeing armand: i want to polish him with kisses and play with his hair and love him forever he is my armand #also lmao at lestat being mad all his boyfriends might also be boyfriends with one another. greedy.#honestly these books can be pretty tedious in parts when it's just one character on their own phiosophizing #but the moment two vampires are interacting #i am LASER FOCUSED and they are incredible #is it my own bias or an actual shift in the writing? i wonder.

172 notes · View notes

thesunisatangerine · 1 year ago

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting.

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes.

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been.

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so.

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead.

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection.

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation.

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you.

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other.

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause.

“I think I should go.”

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door.

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?”

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.”

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.”

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?”

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected.

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours. “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?”

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest.

“Yes.”

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.”

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?”

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?”

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent.

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back.

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed.

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway.

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased.

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish.

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?”

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.”

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over.

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.”

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever.

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives.

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.”

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?”

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry.

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh.

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips.

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped.

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy.

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#this was meant to be longer but i decided to split it into (or else this wouldve been like 10k long or something lol)#sorry for not updating last week id been in pain for the last 2 weeks so it was hard to concentrate #not to mention i got hit by a writer's block so i needed to just take a step back lol #anyway i just need to tie up some loose ends in the next part and then against all odds will be finished in two weeks time 🥲#also i apologise for any style inconsistency #i may or may not have been rereading frankenstein while going through some parts of this lol #will fix any grammar/spelling/prose mistakes later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

536 notes · View notes

suspensefulpen · 6 months ago

Text

Jealousy

TW: Implied Bad Caretaker and Pet Whump

Caretaker frowned as he listened to his friends happily discuss the pets they have at home.

It was all they’ve been talking about lately, and he was starting to feel left out. Even Carewhumper now had one.

They all made it seem as if it was the best thing ever. Having a precious pet you can call your own and have your way with.

Allegedly, it was a really big job. You’d have to be really serious about this before deciding to get a pet. Though from what he’s seen, you really didn’t. He’s heard stories about people who kept their pets for a short period of time on a complete whim before giving them up. It infuriated Caretaker, knowing that those poor pets have to get used to a new home all over again because their owners were irresponsible.

Tonight, he decided to ask more about it.

When everyone else left, Carewhumper and Whumper stayed to have a quiet chat over more wine. Caretaker hesitated before walking back into the sitting room, taking his earlier seat.

“There he is.” Whumper smiled crookedly. “We were just thinking about you.”

He only hummed absentmindedly. “I have… a question. For both of you.”

“Really?” Carewhumper lit up in a way that made him want to shift uncomfortably.

“Yes… I was wondering about…your pets.”

The two immediately turned serious, staring at him silently.

“I was curious. I want a pet too.”

#whump #whump writing #creative writing #writeblr #writer things #writers on tumblr #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #carewhumper #caretaker #whumper #multiple whumpers #suspense #bad caretaker #Penni writes #my stupid ass draft didn’t save #I guess that means I have to make a part two #but later #I ran out of time

85 notes · View notes

loonsloon · 3 months ago

Text

@rosekillermicrofic , february 21 , ignore, words: 1036, mild nsfw — for mi @er9tic !! hope it's a nice start to your day<33

this is a part 2 of this one!

It had been half an hour of this already. They sat cross-legged on Evan’s bed, trying to figure out how exactly the process of brewing Amortentia worked. Why Evan had chosen this particular topic for his essay, Barty would never know. He was fairly good at Potions, while Evan excelled more at wand work; Defense Against the Dark Arts and intricate charms.

But it wasn’t the essay on Amortentia or its complicated brewing method that was frustrating Barty, no. It was the damn lollipop that Evan still had in his mouth, the way his red-stained tongue kept distracting Barty, making him lose track of the words in front of him. It was the way Evan kept pulling the candy out, using it as a prop while he asked Barty questions, only to suck the aftertaste from his lips. The sound of it made Barty shift, adjusting the bedsheet draped around Evan’s shoulders–the other end of it covering Barty’s lap in a poor attempt to conceal his growing erection.

“So, it’s supposed to go three times clockwise after the first tear is dropped, and then instantly counterclockwise, right?” Evan asked, confused, his eyes shifting between the paper and Barty.

Barty wasn’t trying to ignore him, but his eyes were still focused on the candy between Evan’s fingers, the hand resting on his knee, just out of Barty’s reach.

“B, are you listening to me?” Evan nudged Barty’s leg with his other knee, trying to pull his attention back.

It was only then that Barty processed what Evan had asked. But more importantly, he’d just realized something.

“Hey, haven’t you been sucking on that lolly for almost, like, an hour now?”

Evan blinked at him, silent for a second as he examined Barty’s face, then the candy in his hand.

“Umm, yeah, and that is connected to my essay… how, exactly?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be the size of a poppy seed by now?”

“Oh, yeah. I put a permanent charm on it, so it doesn’t run out. Is that why you’ve been staring at it?” Evan grinned, acting oblivious to the suffering he was putting Barty through.

Barty cleared his throat. “No, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it, B?”

Barty swore Evan knew exactly what he was doing, messing with him on purpose.

“How come it’s a bit smaller than when you first unwrapped it?” Barty asked, already knowing the answer. And there it was–the instant drop in Evan’s expression, the faint pink decoration on his cheeks as he tried to maintain his usual nonchalance.

“I charmed it while I was talking to Reg. Why does it matter?”

Here it comes, Evan’s defensiveness, the same kind he always had when caught red-handed. He shrugged and placed the lollipop back into his mouth, eyes going back to his essay, so quick to change the subject now.

“So, clockwise be–”

Barty cut him off with a firm hand against his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. The sheets slipped from both their laps and onto the floor. Evan’s head hit the pillow with a soft thump, surprise plastered across his features. His arms were now spread out at his sides, the lollipop that he managed to rip out just in time was now dangling from his fingers.

“It matters, Evan, because there’s a reason you put that charm on.” Barty leaned over him, eyes locked onto Evan’s.

“Because I like the candy? And it helps me focus on my essay?” Evan raised his eyebrow with a little shake of his head, as if he couldn’t believe what Barty was asking him.

It’s then that Barty lowers his hips onto Evan. He watches Evan gulp as his gaze flicks down to where Barty’s cock is now pressed against his thigh.

“No, Evan. I think you just like watching me suffer.”

“Oh, is that it? Do you want a taste, then?” Evan smirked with a self-satisfied, shit-eating grin of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He lifted the lollipop between them, offering it to Barty mockingly.

Barty looks at Evan for a second longer before slowly reaching for it with his left hand, the other one still pressed into Evan’s chest. His cock twitches at the sight of the damned thing.

He examines it for a moment, questioning himself, before gently placing it against Evan’s half-parted lips.

“Yeah, actually. I do.” Barty answers before leaning down to press his lips to both the cherry-flavored candy and Evan’s mouth. There is a surprised hitch in Evan’s breath after Barty flicks his tongue around the lollipop, using it as an excuse to feel Evan’s lips. He spins the candy between them, unsure which side belongs to whom anymore, their tastes mixing on the glossy surface.

Then, their tongues meet at the edge of the candy, and Evan lets out an obscene moan, his hips snapping forward–seeking friction against Barty’s hip.

“Barty,” Evan whimpered his name, only to flip them over in one quick motion. Now, Barty was the one being pinned, his back hitting the mattress as Evan hovered over him, the carefully maintained calm composure from before now completely gone–replaced with hungry frustration.

Evan ripped the lollipop from his mouth and flung it across the room. It hit the wall with a crack, sending hundreds of red flecks across the floor.

Before Barty could react, Evan’s hand gripped his jaw, turning his face back toward him as their lips crashed together, the fabricated cherry flavor no longer an obstacle between them.

There was nothing soft about it, nothing tame. It was all the tension that had been simmering for months, finally reaching a breaking point. Barty had always known their friendship wouldn’t last forever. It was doomed to end in either an unhealthy amount of love or spiteful hate.

And right now, with their lips clashing, tongues gliding against one another, clothes being tugged and torn, and Evan desperately trying to align their hips–

Barty thought their friendship might just end in a mix of both.

All because of a stupid lollipop. One he despised just a little less now that he realized his lips fit against Evan’s far better than the candy did.

#not me writing a part two 8 months later lmao #i had a lollipop yesterday and it made me think of evan #english isn't my first language pls go easy on me #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #barty crouch junior #bcj #evan rosier #the marauders #slytherin skittles #loonie's microfic

142 notes · View notes

starscream-is-my-wife · 2 months ago

Text

Recruitment tactic no. ??? Be there for them when they try to push you away

I was thinking that this took place when Thundercrackers doubts and fears about Skyfires authenticity boils over, around the later half of the 20 year pining ark, so that Skyfire could have some character development when he’s not with Thundercracker, and Thundercracker starting to accept that he’s falling for Skyfire, and these little meet ups will become a problem that should be stopped as soon as possible. Although I like to think that Thundercracker loves when Skyfire shows that he knows what he’s talking about, that’s what attracted him to Megatron in the first place, so after this the crush got even worse, rip!

Something I’ve noticed about Skyfire is that he’s like, pretty sure of himself. He openly defected to Megatrons face and does not hesitate to take something on even when he is super outmatched, although that does makes him really reckless? Probably why Ratchet is working on him 24/7. He just seems like the type of guy that thinks he can land a plane even with the right instructions, but he’s still really nice! Although if something needs to happen he’s probably not going to wait around, he’s going to do it himself. His final words while fighting Sunstorm was ‘I don’t believe in destiny’ or something like that after all. I also like the idea of him being so direct that Thundercracker has a hard time processing it, getting insulted and then complemented in such a quick switch up how are you supposed to respond to that

About Thundercracker, there was a line in his description saying ‘he is persuaded because he wants to be persuaded’, which is why I had Skyfire ramble on for so long, Thundercracker probably wouldn’t stop him because he wants someone to convince him to leave. But Skyfire can’t understand why he doesn’t just do it. Hasn’t it been long enough? But the time that Thundercracker has spent with them is also why he is fearful to leave. This will probably be in the next part so maybe spoilers?? Thundercracker does like Skyfires attention and thought that he wouldn’t get attached to this bright eyed fool. But then that fool turned into a real friend, someone who was smart and not an asshole, then this affection turned into more fear, fear for himself, and this reckless, genius, idiot. He can’t defect now, it’s just going to put a bigger target on them, he should just… wait. For the next possible opportunity. This is something Skyfire can’t accept, he won’t force Thundercracker to do something, but to just wait around for destiny? That day may never come

#is this really an argument? it’s more like a disagreement #just two bots who care about each other even if they don’t completely understand #they both have their problems!#they’re trying though #I’m having a rough time nailing how they talk but it could be because I’m writing this on like #3 hours of sleep so forgive if my insane ramblings don’t make any sense #I might change this later on #there’s just so many directions that this ‘argument’ could have gone I had a hard time choosing #next one will probably be a fluffy comic and not a part 2 because I have a hard time ending these #I’m like Steffen mofat but I don’t hate women #transformers #transformers fanart #transformers g1 #maccadams #skyfire #jetfire #Thundercracker #thunderfire #jetfire x thundercracker #tf AU #tf firecracker #thunderfire 4 decades au

99 notes · View notes

withthewindinherfootsteps · 8 months ago

Text

Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part One

For Xiantober Day One: Genius… albeit stretching the prompt so it refers to MXTX and MDZS itself, but at the end of the day it’s still about WWX – so no harm done!

(Part Two | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

The narrative is a very active player in MDZS’ story. How it presents information, what it chooses to show and omit, often reflects important facets of its themes and characters – Nie Huaisang, for instance, is so good at hiding behind his mask that not even the narrative can hold him accountable; the present day’s storyline as a murder mystery and the slow reveal of information about the past both prompt the reader to think critically about the truth of events, when the importance of thinking critically is an important theme; and the dangers not thinking critically (and instead basing conclusions on rumours without much evidence) are shown by tricking unquestioning readers into the very same trap the cultivation world falls into, as the information given by the title, summary and in-universe rumours – which contradicts how we see actually Wei Wuxian act – turns out to be false.

But nowhere do I love this trait more than in its treatment of Wei Wuxian – and, more specifically, in its way of emphasising his agency. We’re not just told how much his active choices define his character, and we’re not just shown this in-universe through his personality, worldview and the events he causes. I’d argue that this aspect goes a step further, and shapes the structure of the out-of-universe narrative as well.

There are two main ways this happens: one, in how the aspects of Wei Wuxian’s life that are shown and hidden directly tell us what’s important about his character (which is good writing but isn’t necessarily tied to this shaping of the narrative), which is what we’ll explore today; and two, how what’s shown and hidden reflects what Wei Wuxian himself prefers to dwell on, resulting in the narrative respecting his own thoughts and feelings on matters (which very much is tied to it). We’ll explore this at a later date.

But as for now – let’s explore my favourite aspect of MDZS.

(Here, narrative agency will be considered the ability of a character to meaningfully influence their events and the story they’re in.)

Tragedy, Circumstance, Choice

If we simply look at Wei Wuxian’s backstory in a vacuum, it seems almost typically tragic. His parents died in circumstances beyond his control, he was left alone as a child with nobody to care for him, he was forced to grow up fending for himself on the streets, he was faced with abuse when he finally was taken in… as with all typical woobies, everything simply happened to him, and none of it was good. It’s just another example of the lack of agency being used for sympathy points, right?

…Except there’s one problem with that idea. We don’t actually see any of this.

It would’ve been easy to start the flashbacks during these times. We’re telling the story of Wei Wuxian in (largely) chronological order, and these are likely important experiences for him! But instead of starting in his street days, or evenat the moment Jiang Fengmian took him in*, we start at the lectures in the Cloud Recesses. That’s not even something mentioned in, and therefore something that’s able to disprove, the rumours at the start of the novel. So why is this the case?

Well, there are multiple reasons – the main one being that MDZS is also Lan Wangji’s (and Wangxian’s) story, and having the flashbacks open with their first meeting is very satisfying. But I want to focus on something else.

This period doesn’t have to be shown, because what happens to Wei Wuxian, especially out of his control, isn’t what’s important about his character.

We’re not even at Lotus Pier here, where Wei Wuxian certainly has more agency than he would’ve had as a young child, but where the harm caused by Madame Yu is still completely out of his control. Here, he has agency! Though there are consequences, he is free to act, and what happens to him is a result of those actions and not of circumstance. Yes, he gets punished more than others who also take those same actions (due to classism); yes, it’s not his choice to be picked on by Lan Qiren in class (yet look how he responds, twisting the situation to his advantage and ending up tricking Lan Qiren into letting him leave, which is what he wanted to do. He is not at all helpless here!); yes, these choices have been influenced by his learned mindset from Madame Yu that punishment is arbitrary and will happen anyway, so you may as well do what you want regardless. But there is cause-and-effect here. It’s not circumstantial tragedy.

Therefore, instead of our first impression of past!Wei Wuxian being that of an unfortunate woobie, it’s of someone who has the freedom, ability and will to choose and act (and that’s after these initial tragic events have taken place). This is compounded by the fact that before we see any of his backstory, we get a similar impression of him in the present day.

If the purpose of his tragic past was to earn him sympathy points, to make us pity him due to how much he was influenced by events out of his control, this would’ve been a terrible way of going about it… and it’s this that betrays the true reason for its existence. Because now, the flashbacks instead show us how little these tragedies define who he is! From the very start, Wei Wuxian isn’t someone defined by circumstances out of his control, but rather by who he is as a person and by what choices he makes in the present day (which is both a mindset in-universe, and a nice little out-of-universe detail that lines up! Because out-of-universe, this means he’s not defined by sympathy points from a backstory, but rather by his great character writing… aka, by who he is as a person and what choices he makes). And this refusal to be defined by tragedy is a conscious choice on his part, too – but we’ll explore that more later.

The important thing is that this idea of Wei Wuxian isn’t because of what exists in his past, it’s because of what parts of his past are shown to us (as well as what he chooses to do, with agency, in the present).

Now, if this relationship between what’s displayed and what’s omitted was just a one-time thing, I might’ve considered it a cool detail or a nice way to establish a character, but not something the narrative is actively focusing on. But it’s a pattern that continues throughout the flashbacks. What, arguably, are the two other most important times in Wei Wuxian’s life where he doesn’t have enough agency to meaningfully influence his circumstances? His three months in the Burial Mounds (before escaping – he managed to assume some control of the circumstances but not enough to substantially reduce his suffering in his time there), and his loss and death during the First Siege. And we’re not shown either of them! We skip to when Wei Wuxian has emerged from the Burial Mounds and is torturing the Wens, or we skip to the present day – both times he has agency once more, because, again, what he’s like without it doesn’t matter enough to be shown.

Furthermore, I’d argue this does actually contrast the other tragic events we see in Wei Wuxian’s later life. Things do go horribly wrong, but it’s either due to choices he knows the consequences of (see: rescuing the Wen Remnants in the first place), or instances where he still has some ability to act in the situation and influence it within the limitations. If he’d had no ability to influence circumstances at Qiongqi path, he would have died in the ambush; if he’d been unable to do that at Nightless City, he would’ve died then, too (of course Lan Wangji helped him escape as well). The attention drawn to him losing control of his actions in both instances is very interesting, but intentional or not, it’s still his actions influencing the plot. And that influence happens to be detrimental. The very ability to act and influence, at a base level, is not taken away (though, of course, that doesn’t make these events any less tragic).

So, so far, the narrative seems to be telling us that the ability to act and choose is key to Wei Wuxian’s character. And it’s doing it through omitting his moments without agency in favour of instead showing us his moments with it.

Let’s see if this is echoed in the text itself before we go further – because even with this pattern, nothing would end up mattering if Wei Wuxian’s agency wasn’t actually that important to the story itself. But thankfully it is, and that first impression we get of Wei Wuxian in the Cloud Recesses turns out to very much be accurate! Though there are defining circumstances out of his control that occur, such as the massacre of Lotus Pier, the majority of the important events of his life are due to his own choices. He didn’t happen to be forced to cease traditional cultivation and solely use guidao, didn’t happen to lose his Golden Core in a fight with Wen Zhuliu or due to some force in the Burial Mounds, it was his own choice to give it and his spiritual powers away. He didn’t tragically happen to get targeted by the cultivation world, it was a result of him acting on his morals and protecting the Wen remnants (a choice which he was fully aware of the implications of). He isn’t a protagonist to whom things simply occur, and that activeness and agency is my favourite thing about him.

That’s not to say that the times Wei Wuxian doesn’t have agency, or feels like he doesn’t have any, don’t exist at all, either – but they are rare enough to have attention directly drawn to them in his internal narration:

Or else what could he do? He could do nothing. He was powerless. Lotus Pier had been destroyed, both Jiang FengMian and Madam Yu were gone, and Jiang Cheng had disappeared as well. He was the only one left, alone, with not even a sword in his hands. He didn’t know anything, he couldn’t do anything! For the first time, he discovered how little his power was. In front of something as large as the QishanWen Sect, it was the same as a mantis trying to stop a chariot. - Chapter 59, EXR translation

(And even in this circumstance, note that he still does force himself to act – to carry on searching for Jiang Cheng, to place his faith in Wen Ning – and does accomplish his goal (albeit with the help of others)! So even in dire situations, he isn’t simply passive. This is actually also the case with his time in the Burial Mounds, almost certainly the First Siege, and even his days on the streets as well (Chapter 20: he did actively fight with dogs to get food despite their danger and his growing fear of them, rather than just waiting and hoping to somehow receive some more). He can’t influence or immediately influence his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.)

Overall, although they do influence him, Wei Wuxian is very much who he is in spite of his circumstances, not because of them. We’re shown the importance of his agency both in-universe by the major impacts his choices have on himself and the plot, as well as by narrative presentation – important periods where he lacks the ability to meaningfully influence anything are often mentioned but not directly shown, which suggests that such moments and circumstances aren’t as important to understanding Wei Wuxian’s character as moments where he does have this agency are. And I’d argue this works very well. Depending on the version of the story you consume, you may end up having different interpretations as to how much circumstances were at play nearer the end of his life – but nobody comes out of MDZS thinking about Wei Wuxian, the poor bearer of yet another generically tragic backstory.

(Part Two | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

—

*We are shown this moment in more detail in Chapter 23… but even then, it’s through the framing of Wei Wuxian remembering Jiang Yanli’s narration, not through a flashback proper or even him remembering the experience itself!

#there are three parts to this #part two dwelling on how wwx not dwelling on tragedy is a conscious choice #part three about how that choice and wwx’s preferences are ALSO behind what’s shown and what’s not #i originally wanted to post them all at once but life was very busy and they haven’t been finished yet #and i wanted to release SOMETHING on this day (it is after midnight but i haven’t slept yet and in a lot of timezones it’s not yet)#judging by the current length of it it’s probably better to be posting individual parts anyway…#so here we go #a complete version will br put on ao3 when done #also because i’m not sure where to put it in the meta – i’m aware external circumstances did impact this too #eg mxtx not wanting to write power-up/transformation sequences influencing her not to write wwx’s time in the burial mounds #i’m also aware a lot of this could be writing efficiency and not the deeper meanings i’ll (mostly later) assign to it #ultimately there’s not enough evidence either way to say if this was intentional or not #(i don’t doubt mxtx is an amazing writer but *i* feel i’m overanalysing while writing this which i do tend to do)#but even if it wasn’t it’s still a part of the story #and it still remains one of the things i love it the most #so i WILL explore it (taking the approach of death of the author here – i do believe context is important but i just love this throughline-#-so much)#xiantober #xiantober day 1 #mdzs meta #my meta #wei wuxian #wwx #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #gdc

123 notes · View notes

doumidas-whumps · 7 months ago

Text

no longer in solitude

Porter's first impression of Sonny, the new pet.

a little something from Port's POV this time (and by "a little something" I mean 2000 words). this is the night Sonny is brought to his new home.

consider this a sort-of prequel to this.

cw: BBU/pet whump, abusive master, whumpee emotionally attached to whumper

All day, the house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. It made Port a little twitchy. It seemed quieter than usual today, quiet enough that the florescent lights buzzing in his ears were making him sick. He had to step out of the bathroom halfway through cleaning the shower, scrubbing brush abandoned by the drain. He rinsed his hands and pressed his cool, clean palms to his eyes. Memories of lying alone in that cold, featureless room in the facility flashed behind his eyelids.

He tried to think of something else, his master coming to mind easily. He had left for work that morning without a word to Port, just as he had the past two days. Mr. Oz hadn’t been speaking to him lately. In fact, he’d barely even looked at him.

Maybe something at work was bothering him. Did his boss yell at him? Could it be that the coworker he always complained about was getting on his nerves? Maybe it was unrelated to work; maybe he had lost more money at the casino. The last time that had happened, Mr. Oz lost two grand playing blackjack or poker or whatever it was and when he came home he threw one of his shoes at Port’s head. Port dodged it on instinct, which just made him angrier. Though come to think of it, Port hadn’t had any projectiles thrown at him, lately, so maybe it wasn’t that.

The grandfather clock started chiming, shaking Port out of his uneasy thoughts. He took a grounding breath and reentered the bathroom.

After the bathroom was the living room. He pulled the remote out from between the couch cushions, itching to turn the TV on for some background noise. He set the remote in its proper place on the glass coffee table, next to a box of playing cards. He didn’t have permission to watch TV today.

Lately Mr. Oz had been getting home around 7:00, so Port started dinner at 6:30. Talking to him over dinner was usually the most exciting part of Port’s day, but the two previous nights he had taken his dinner up to his room, leaving Port to clean up in silence. He hoped today would be better.

Dinner was finished by 6:55. He left it on the stove on low heat. When Mr. Oz still wasn’t home by 7:20, Port put it in the fridge. He had already cleaned the the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the living room, the kitchen, even under the fridge, under the oven, and the tops of the doorways. He supposed the bookshelf could do with some dusting.

When Mr. Oz still wasn’t home by 9:00 and Port had truly run out of productive things to do, he grabbed the playing cards from the coffee table and kneeled on the Persian carpet, arranging them for a game of solitaire. Mr. Oz had never explicitly forbid him from playing card games, so Port figured it was okay as long as he put everything away before he got back.

By the time the clock chimed for the second time since he’d started playing, marking 11 o’ clock, Port was starting to get concerned. It wasn’t uncommon for his master to stay out after work, but 11:00 P.M. was far later than usual, especially on a Thursday night.

Port had been in the living room for hours, having long since adjusted to a more comfortable sitting position. His current game was not going well. Stuck, Port listened to the ticking clock while he tried to figure out how to salvage it. It was hard to think when his eyes were drifting closed. He had gotten up at 5 A.M. that morning, like usual, and he wasn’t allowed to sleep until his master turned in for the night.

Port gave up on the game and rested his elbows on the coffee table, shifting the cards underneath his arms. He stared at the blinking colon of the digital clock under the TV, willing himself to stay awake. He should probably get up and move around, but the combination of the blinking and the ticking had a hypnotizing effect.

Just as the clock blinked to 11:08, he heard the garage door screech open and jerked awake. Port hastily gathered the cards into a stack and slid them into their box. He rose to his feet and padded to the side door to greet his master, where he waited eagerly, a smile already on his face.

The door swung open and Mr. Oz stepped through into the yellow light of the hall. His cheeks were ruddy, teeth visible in a grin. Port found it encouraging.

“Welcome home,” Port greeted. “How was your—”

Port was startled as another figure appeared out of the darkness in the doorway behind him. His first split-second thought was that it was one of his master’s friends, as it wasn’t unusual for him to invite people over. The thought was dashed as soon as he spotted the supple black collar around the figure’s neck.

It was a boy— a young man— who stepped into the hall, eyes cast down. Port couldn’t see his features too well at this angle— only his shining black hair, which was neatly parted down the middle of his scalp.

Port realized his mouth was still open and shut it. Once he pulled his eyes away from the pet he noticed that Mr. Oz was looking at him, eyes glimmering. “Porter, this is Sonny.” He clapped the boy on the back, who visibly jumped. (A sign of poor training.) “He’ll be helping you out around the house.”

Every question running through Port’s mind was cut short. Was he saying what Port thought he was saying? “Sir, do you mean…?”

“That’s right! You get to have a little playmate, doesn’t that sound great?”

Port blinked.

Mr. Oz was looking at the pet with some sort of fondness. “I’ve had my eye on him for a while now… you should’ve seen the look on David’s face.” His hand moved to the pet's neck, whose shoulders raised higher. “I’m gonna get him a collar like yours,” Mr. Oz said, hooking a finger under the nylon. “So you can match.”

Some buzzing feeling was spreading through Port. His chest was shivering. He felt his smile grow wider. He clasped his hands in front of him and squeezed. “This is great, sir.”

Mr. Oz smiled back at him. It felt good to be on the same page as his master, to be excited with him. Port was already imagining what it would be like to have another presence in the house. Someone to help with housework, to get to know, to talk with like an an equal. A small spike of guilt struck him at the thought. His master was supposed to fulfill all his needs. He shouldn’t be craving the company of another pet, of all things. And yet…

Mr. Oz grabbed Sonny roughly by the shoulders and pushed him closer to Port, made them stand shoulder-to-shoulder. Sonny had to be at least half a foot shorter than him.

He watched Mr. Oz admire them both, mind working. His hand shot out to Sonny’s face so fast that Sonny jerked back and Port nearly flinched. Mr. Oz gripped him by the face, dimpling his cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head upwards. “Look at me,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll have you…” He trailed off, eyes growing dark. “What’s with that face?”

Port glanced down to gauge for himself. On Sonny’s face was an unmistakable expression: fear.

“Are you scared?” asked their master. He was no longer smiling.

Sonny said nothing. Port’s heart beat fast for him. Mr. Oz did not like to go unanswered.

“Well?”

Sonny hesitated too long. Mr. Oz released Sonny’s face only to crack his hand across it like a whip. Sonny nearly collided into Port’s shoulder, hand raising as if to cradle his rapidly flushing cheek. Port felt a rising sense of alarm. Where was this boy trained?

Mr. Oz’s hand grasped Sonny’s wrist, halting it in place. “Please, sir—“ Sonny finally spoke.

“Who taught you to act like this?” He was yelling, now. “Were you disciplined at all?”

Port couldn’t help himself. “Sir, he’s just—”

His master whirled on him. “I don’t wanna hear a single word outta you!”

Port’s jaw clicked shut.

He turned back to Sonny, who was lowering towards the floor like his knees were buckling. Mr. Oz released Sonny’s wrist and ran both hands through his short hair, something he always did when he was exasperated. “Way to ruin my damn mood.” He rubbed his eyes, and when his fists fell he locked eyes with Port. They were slightly red. “Take him to your room,” he said. “Explain the rules.” His gaze drifted to Sonny, who now had his arms wrapped around himself. Mr. Oz sighed, pinching his brow. “If he doesn’t fix his behavior… we’re gonna have some problems.” Port felt Sonny curl further into himself beside him.

“Yes, sir.” Port wasted no time in guiding Sonny upstairs with a gentle hand on his upper back. He pushed open the door to his room— their room, now. There wasn’t much. A dresser, a blanket, a pillow, the soft rug he slept on. A painting of a seagull hung on the far wall. Port would have to grab another pillow and blanket for Sonny from the linen closet— that is, if Mr. Oz didn’t decide to revoke his bedding privileges for that little display.

Now that they were out of earshot, Port felt comfortable enough to speak. He needed to give Sonny the rundown on how things worked around here. But first… “Are you alright?”

Sonny lifted his head, looking directly at Port for the first time. His eyes were so dark Port couldn’t see the pupils. They shone like black pearls, wet. His cheeks were dry, the left still colored from the slap, but his face was otherwise unblemished. He looked young. His mouth made no movement.

“You can speak, right?”

Sonny’s gaze lowered. “Sorry,” he whispered. “This is a lot.”

Port sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy. The boy didn’t seem very experienced. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”

Sonny wasted no time in dropping to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Port went to his knees in front of him, but after a few seconds decided to readjust and sit on his bottom to be more casual. He gave Sonny a minute of silence to calm down before speaking again.

“I don’t know what that was, but—” you shouldn’t be so scared? I hope you’re okay? You can’t do that again? “—he isn’t as bad as you seem to think he is.”

Sonny looked at him again, now reproachfully. Port tried a smile. “Are you new?”

His eyes turned sharp, flicking up and down Port’s figure. “Six months outta training,” he muttered. Secondhand? Sonny seemed to be considering him. “You’re not new.”

“No.”

“You’re W.R.U.?” Dubya-arr-yoo.

“…Yes.” Technically.

Sonny hummed, lowering his chin. “You kinda seem like it.”

Port wasn’t sure how to feel about that, or what could have possibly given him that impression, so he just asked, “Where are you from, if not W.R.U.?” Port knew of at least two knock-offs. “I didn’t even know Mr. Oz was looking for another pet.”

Sonny just sighed and lowered his head further so his forehead touched the tops of his knees, face hidden.

Well, alright. Considering they were equals, Port supposed Sonny wasn’t obligated to answer him.

#whump writing #whump #pet whump #bbu whump #multiple whumpees #group whumpees #conditioned whumpee #wru #bbu #ficmidas #solitaire #porter oz #sonny oz #parsa osman #two months later i finally finish it #fingers crossed the next part will come out sooner than that #i may continue to make illustrations it's fun

67 notes · View notes

skyward-floored · 8 months ago

Text

Whumptober Day 13 - Multiple whumpees, (familial curse)

This was originally going to be one part but I just had to split it because it didn’t work out 😔 but my original plan was to whump all nine Links, and all nine links WILL be gotten. Eventually.

Warnings: aftereffects of drugging, body horror, brief injury and violence.

Ao3 link

Next part (day 28)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Twilight? Hey, Twilight wake up.”

Twilight groaned, and felt a hand shaking his shoulder, not too frantically, but forcefully enough that he quickly cracked his eyes open. Time looked down at him, concerned, but overall his expression was that of mild annoyance. Twilight was pretty sure it wasn’t directed at him, but he carefully sat up anyway, rubbing his pounding head.

“Oh good, Rancher’s up,” Sky’s voice said, and Twilight looked around to see all nine of them groggily waking up, rubbing heads and looking confused.

“Uh... what happened?” Wind slurred, trying to sit up and immediately falling back over. Warriors caught him, looking much more aware than the sailor, and frowned.

“That’s what I’m trying to remember. Last I recall, we were... eating dinner?”

“And now we’re in a tiny room with no way out and possibly limited air,” Hyrule said cheerily, then winced as he rubbed his head. “Were we... drugged?”

“It feels like it,” Twilight finally spoke, slowly stretching his limbs. He felt a little floaty, his head pounding, and the singular torch giving them light only made it worse. A quick glance around revealed that Four was the only one of them who hadn’t woken up yet, but he was twitching a little like he was about to.

Twilight hummed in mild confusion, trying to get his brain to sort out events from earlier. He did remember eating dinner, but had it been at an inn? It hadn’t been Wild’s cooking, he remembered that, but who’s had it been? Where were they?

Ugh. He hated waking up imprisoned and confused.

“Hey, wait I remember!” Wind said suddenly, eyes going wide. “We were at that festival in town!”

“Oh yeah...” Wild said like he was remembering it. “Oh yeah! Right! That was good food... though that lady serving it was weird.”

“Yeah, she came up to me and was talking to me later,” Sky spoke up as he scratched his head. “It seemed like she recognized that we were heroes. She seemed a little strange too, but... I thought maybe she’d just had too much wine,” he admitted sheepishly.

“I feel like I did,” Warriors muttered, and Twilight snorted. Honestly he agreed.

Twilight felt for his pouch, wanting to pull out his lantern and look around their prison a bit more, then froze, patting his sides and looking down at himself.

“Ah... Did anyone else have all of their gear stolen?” he asked.

A quick check revealed that yes, everyone’s items had been taken, both weapons and bags. Even Legend’s rings had been stripped, and the only thing any of them had were the clothes on their backs.

“Well, I’ve dealt with worse, but this sucks,” Legend said flatly, and everyone agreed.

Four groaned then, and everyone’s attention was pulled to making sure he was okay (which he was, just extra woozy like Wind) and helping him sit up. Four blinked at them all, taking in the tiny stone room, single torch, and the fact that all of them were crammed around him, and sighed.

“So going to that festival in town was a bad idea I see.”

“Indeed,” Time agreed.

Something rumbled in the wall then, shaking stone and making them all jump. They turned towards it, shifting into defensive positions, but then the wall... squealed.

“The chosen of Farore awaken!” a voice said excitedly, coming from no discernible direction. It echoing around the room like it was speaking to them from the opposite end of a long hallway. “At last!”

“Oh boy,” Legend muttered under his breath as the voice squealed again. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“I don’t recognize that voice,” Warriors murmured in reply. “Anyone?”

They all shook their heads.

“Let us out, jerk!” Wind hollered, and the voice giggled.

“Not yet!” she singsonged, and someone else cleared their throat.

“We must verify your identity before we partake of your courage,” a different voice spoke up, harsh and croaking. “You all bear the honorable likeness, but we must be sure.”

“Oh I really don’t like the sound of that,” Legend hissed, and Twilight agreed, subtly shifting his position to be further in front. Several of them did the same, faces hard as stone.

“What do you want with us?” Time demanded, and a few beats of silence passed.

“A test is in order,” the harsher voice spoke again, seeming to ignore Time’s words. “To prove you are indeed Farore’s providence. Our venerated goddess would not send us such scrawny men with the Signs without reason.”

“Scrawny?” Warriors muttered. Twilight wasn’t the only one who snickered at the offended look on his face.

“Prove to us you can survive our glorious goddess’s trial grounds,” the harsh voice continued. “If you die, it is of no consequence to us. But if you survive...”

“You get to live with us in the temple as Farore’s consorts forever!” the cheerful voice finished.

Silence fell over the Links, and Twilight felt suddenly nauseous.

“Oh great. A cult,” Wild said flatly. “I love those.”

Then the floor dropped out.

All of them screamed, and Twilight grabbed at the person closest to him, who happened to be Four. The smithy clutched back at him as they fell through the darkness, and Twilight heard several oofs as their backs hit something.

Suddenly they were shooting down some kind of slide, twisting and turning sharply, and Twilight knocked into several of the others as they fell. Four’s hand slipped out of his, but Twilight didn’t have a chance to grab it again before the chute abruptly opened up.

Twilight yelled again as he fell through the air, nothing but darkness surrounding him. He heard other shouts of alarm, but they sounded strangely far away as he flailed his arms, trying to turn around and slow his descent.

Before he could form any sort of plan though, he slammed into something solid and cold, bitingly cold.

It sank into his skin and leeched around his heart, and Twilight gasped without thinking, inhaling some of the intense cold. It felt like it went straight from his mouth to his lungs, freezing the entire way. A familiar sensation wracked through him along with it, twisting through his skin and bones, and Twilight braced himself as his body began to morph into a wolf without his permission.

How are they doing this? How is this possible?! he wanted to yell, but the unusually sharp pain from transforming stole his breath away.

It swept into his veins like ice, every breath turning his insides into a cold so deep and painful he thought he might pass out from it. He clung to consciousness though, a scream from his lips morphing to a howl halfway, the transformation ripping through him like a bolt made of icy lightning.

Then it was over.

Twilight went limp, panting as he caught his breath from the shockingly cold transformation.

He’d never been pushed into his wolf form like that before, and it took him several minutes to carefully sit up for the second time today. Paws, legs, tail, snout... aside from the especially painful transformation itself, he felt mostly fine. Nothing seemed wrong, at least.

He looked around where he’d ended up, and his ears went back at the darkness around him. The only color in his vision was a faint sheen of green in places on the ground, like the folds on a piece of deep mossy velvet. A couple small, glowing pebbles were the only other thing he could see. The air was still bitingly cold, even despite his thick fur, and Twilight shivered.

He needed to find the others, now.

Standing up and giving himself a cautious shake, Twilight began to walk carefully through through what smelled like a cave, his stomach tight with worry.

Why had they been dropped here? What was the goal? Everything that those women had said was unpleasant, but something about the words they’d used made Twilight’s stomach churn.

What did “partake of their courage” mean, exactly?

A scream suddenly rang through the cave, sharp with pain, and Twilight’s ears shot up. He bolted the moment he pinpointed it, feet pounding on the stones under his paws. He nearly tripped on a large rock, but kept running, following the sounds with his ears.

Until he finally saw Time, lying beside a faintly glowing rock, writhing in place with an expression of pure agony.

“Time!” Twilight barked in a panic, and bolted to his side, sniffing at him and trying to figure out what was wrong.

Time let out another cry of agony, and curled in on himself, body shaking as he tried to hold himself together. Twilight leaned closer to study him, then froze as golden hair— fur began to spread across his skin, his body parts shifting.

Oh no.

Time reached out blindly, and Twilight sat beside him, letting him clutch at his fur. He couldn’t do anything but watch as Time’s body gradually shifted into the same form as his own, a snout and tail, powerful legs and upward pointing ears. It was horrifying to watch, and the sounds were even worse, cracking and splitting and shifting.

It went on for a good minute or two, and Twilight whined anxiously as Time cried out and moaned, body shuddering and trying to organize itself. Time finally let out one last whining cry of pain, then stilled, tongue lolling as he panted for breath.

And Twilight shook as he stared at him, bright gold and white fur shining a little in the crystal light.

Time had become a golden wolf.

The same that Twilight had sought out on his journey in order to learn hidden sword techniques.

“Old man,” Twilight woofed softly, trying not to shake as he lowered himself to his belly beside Time. “Are you okay?”

Time’s good eye fluttered, then slowly opened, looking up at Twilight.

“I’ve been... through many magical transformations, but that... was one of the worst,” Time weakly huffed. He attempted to get to his feet, and growled in frustration as his paws went the wrong ways. “Right. New body. New proportions.”

“Just take it slow,” Twilight urged, trying not to think about what Time now looked like, the future once more looming over his head. Nope. He had bigger problems right now. “Let your instincts carry you for a bit. It’s better if you don’t think too hard about how it works.”

It only took one more try for Time to sit up, and his legs didn’t tremble too much as he raised himself to a standing position. He tripped once or twice, but managed a careful walk around the cave, and shortly after that he was standing naturally, just like a wolf.

“Are you okay, pup?” Time asked, posture suggesting worry. He sniffed at Twilight a bit, and his ears shifted backwards. He could probably smell Twilight’s fear.

“I’m alright,” Twilight reassured with a swallow. “Just worried for the others. How did those people do this to us? It hardly felt like the magic I use to transform.”

“Probably a spell of some ilk,” Time rumbled. “One I do not like. But we should find the others before we—”

A shrill scream rang through the caves, and both Twilight and Time snapped their heads up, exchanging alarmed looks. They hurried towards it without another word, the pebbles on the ground just barely lighting their path, and Twilight frantically sniffed for any sign of the others.

None of their voices were that high pitched, but if the same thing Twilight and Time had been afflicted with was what had happened to everyone...

A bit more light came into view, and Twilight froze at the sight in front of him.

A moblin, one that looked something like Wild’s, was snarling angrily as it tried to reach a clawed hand into a crevasse in the rock. It scrabbled at the stone and howled when its hand wouldn’t fit. An angry squeaking sound came from the hole, and the moblin roared loudly, yanking its hand away as blood ran from its claws.

Someone was cornered in there.

Time snarled, leaping at the moblin with his teeth bared, and Twilight did the same, his fangs connecting with flesh.

It was incredibly fortunate it was only a red moblin, and against two wolves, even one inexperienced, it was no match. It soon fell to Twilight and Time’s teeth, and disappeared into smoke, a roar ringing out as it died.

Twilight whirled on the crack in the stone then, whining anxiously as he sniffed at it. He could smell blood.

“Hello?” he woofed, and the angry noises stopped.

“...Twilight?”

The voice was familiar, and when Twilight sniffed again, he caught a mix of familiar scents through the blood, ones that sent relief through him.

“Legend?” Time asked in confusion, and a familiar pink rabbit face appeared in the crack, long ears swiveling.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Legend sighed, and moved out of the hole a bit further. Twilight could see the fear in his body language. “...Is that Time back there? Wait, did he seriously get to be a wolf too?!”

“Yes,” Twilight said, then gave Legend a worried sniff. “Where are you hurt? I smell blood.”

Legend’s ears went back. “It’s not bad, just a scratch. That moblin got a swing at me while I was shifting. I was trying to help Sky.”

“He got transformed too? Is he okay?” Twilight asked frantically, and Legend made a movement Twilight assumed was a helpless shrug.

“He hasn’t woken up yet. He got a little banged up too, it didn’t look like he was bleeding too much, but... I don’t know. I think the shift was pretty hard on him.”

“It was plenty hard on me, and I’m used to it,” Twilight winced. “Can you pull him out of there?”

“I got him in there in the first place, I hope so,” Legend said, and turned back around and reentered the crevasse. Twilight sat down beside it, and Time padded over, giving the hole a curious look.

“You don’t seem so surprised at the fact that our veteran is a pink rabbit,” he noted, and Twilight chuffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that. Maybe Legend will explain it.”

The rabbit in question reappeared shortly, tugging something else by the scruff. He grunted as he pulled it up, and Twilight stuck his snout in to try and help, eyes widening at the creature Sky had become.

He looked something like a cat, but not exactly, soft and fuzzy, tan and light brown fur in an unusual pattern. Large ears poked up as Legend pulled him further out of the hole, and Twilight saw a faint mark on his back that looked like a bird.

He also had claw marks scored into his side, dripping blood through his fur.

“Oh Sky...” Twilight whined, giving him an anxious sniff. “Do you know what he is?”

“I assumed he was a cat of some sort, but beats me,” Legend shrugged. “Wait, if you guys are animals, does that mean—”

“Yeah we’re pretty sure everyone else is too,” Twilight sighed, and Legend put a paw on his chin, rapidly tapping his foot in thought.

“Hm. That could be problematic, to say the least.”

“Indeed,” Time added grimly. “We need to find the others and figure out how to get out of here.”

“I can probably scent them out, but how are we getting out of here?” Twilight asked. “I don’t see us getting out the way we came in.”

“We’ll find a way,” Legend said as he rubbed his ear. “After all, we’ve just got to beat this ‘trial’, right? I bet once we do that we can bust outta here.”

“Assuming we aren’t all still incapacitated,” Time murmured with a glance at Sky. “We should get moving.”

“I got him,” Twilight volunteered, and gently lifted Sky by the scruff. He barely weighed anything.

“Wait, I’ll carry him,” Time interrupted. “You’re our best fighter at the moment, it makes more sense for you to have the freedom to move about. Especially if you’re going to sniff out the others.”

Twilight nodded reluctantly, and set Sky on Time’s back, getting him settled. He licked away the worst of the blood, and was relieved to see the scratches weren’t actually too deep. Legend seemed to be correct with his assumption that the shift had just been hard on him.

“So is this a dark world of some kind?” Twilight wondered as he pulled back. “We were wondering if it was a spell of some sort, but is it possible that we fell into a different world?”

“I don’t know, but it certainly feels like one,” Legend said with a shiver. “That or some kind of dark magic that’s concentrated down here. Based on what those crazy people said I’d guess just dark magic, but either way, it’s bad.”

Twilight raised his head and sniffed, that eerie cold feeling still penetrating him straight to his spirit. He caught a whiff of something else in the air though, a familiar scent, and pricked his ears.

“I smell someone, they’re close,” he reported, and Legend twitched an ear.

“Well, lead the way, wolf boy.”

They set off, Twilight in the front, Time behind him with Sky, Legend hopping along between them. Twilight stayed tense, keeping both ears out for sign of any monsters or Links, but the cavern was eerily quiet.

Had the others already been transformed? If they were unconscious from the shift it would explain why it was so quiet, but... there were a lot of other reasons why that could be the case.

Bad ones.

Twilight looked up at where the ceiling should be, nothing but pitch-black darkness meeting him, and swallowed.

Were they okay?

He regretted thinking it when a cry rang through the cavern yet again, one thick with pain, and all three of them immediately stiffened.

“I think that’s the captain,” Legend said in a thin voice.

Time didn’t even speak, bolting off deeper into the cave.

Twilight’s heart pounded as Legend scrambled over to him, leaping onto his back, and they tore off behind Time into the darkness ahead. He could barely see where he was going, but he kept running, following Time’s scent.

They rounded a corner, and Twilight stopped dead, Time’s tail between his legs at the sight before them.

Warriors lay on the ground, still completely Hylian, and writhing around with pain constricting his face. Twilight hurried over, and Warriors’ back arched, sweat beading on his face as he let out another cry.

Twilight couldn’t hold back a whine, and Legend slid off his back, scampering over to the captain without hesitation. Warriors’ eyes were wide and glassy, and Legend put a small paw on his arm with a worried look.

“Captain, hey, I know your instinct is to fight it, but let it happen,” Legend said, voice steady. “It’ll be easier if you just let it do what it’s going to do.”

Warriors let out another short cry of pain, and Twilight sat beside him as he twitched on the ground. Time seemed frozen a few feet away, and Twilight put the soft from his mind, focusing on Warriors.

His face began to elongate, and Warriors thrashed, his eyes so wide that Twilight could see mostly white. His legs and arms grew longer, back straightening as his neck stretched out, and all any of them could do was watch it happen, and try and soothe Warriors while his body slowly twisted itself into a different form.

Warriors let out a guttural scream, but the transformation just kept plodding along, going so slowly Twilight was sure it was pure torture.

“Warriors, please, you’ve got to let it finish,” Legend said in a voice Twilight could tell he fought to keep steady. “Just let go. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Warriors breathed out sharply through his nose, eyes darting around without seeing anything. Time finally snapped out of his daze then, sitting down by his head, and Warriors blindly leaned against him, breath coming out in short gasps.

“It’s okay, Link,” Time reassured, even though Warriors wouldn’t be able to understand him. “Let it finish. You can do it.”

Warriors shuddered, and the transformation spread a little faster, his hair turning paler and spreading across his body, limbs stretching out more. Twilight watched, morbidly fascinated as his fingers fused and arms stretched, body growing, hair spreading downwards.

It went on longer than Time’s, much longer, but Warriors’ limbs eventually finished growing out, hoofs in place of hands, a horn twisting up, a silky tail and mane falling along the ground.

Finally it finished, and Twilight stared, fascinated.

Warriors lay unconscious on the ground, a unicorn of the palest yellow.

“...I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting that,” Legend commented with an exhale, though his voice was a bit unsteady. He patted Warriors’ shoulder, and hunched down a little, face twisted with worry.

“What were you expecting?” Twilight asked curiously, and Legend shrugged.

“I don’t know. Probably another wolf. Not... a unicorn.”

“I think it makes sense,” Time said quietly, but didn’t elaborate.

Twilight sighed, feeling exhausted, and absently twitched an ear. “Well since none of us can carry him, I guess we’re stuck here until he wakes up.”

Time nodded, and Legend swiped a paw across his face. “Hopefully that won’t take too long,” Legend muttered worriedly, his nose twitching.

Twilight silently agreed, and sat down beside Time and Legend, keeping his ears pricked for any signs of the other Links while they waited for Warriors to wake back up.

Oh spirits, what a disaster.

102 notes · View notes