#and for starting the conversation about being sick from the eclipse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quicktosimp · 8 months

Text

When the Kids are Away

Kinktober Day 12 - Jake

Jake/Human!Reader, mentioned Jake/Reader/Neytiri

Warnings: 18+, Fingering, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader, Sir Kink, Spanking, DILF Jake, Bondage, Breeding Kink

Thank you @pandoraslxna for putting this together for all of us 💕

Divider by @cafekitsune

“Come on, baby girl. Don’t you wanna have some fun?” Jake persists, asking me for the seventh time.

“No, you idiot. You’re always too impatient to prepare me properly.” I snap, getting sick of this conversation.

“What if I promise to prepare you more this time? Do it just like Tiri does it.” He bribes.

A snort slips out of my mouth, “I’m gonna tell Tiri you said that. No one can do it like Tiri.”

Jakes's hands went up in surrender, “Don’t I know it, no one out matches our Tiri with that tongue of hers.”

I walk over and wrap my arms around Jake’s waist, “I miss them,” I sigh.

Jake holds me in his arms, “I miss them too. I know they just left to visit Mo’at, but a three-day flight, with a week-long stay, and then the flight back, that too long for us to be separated.”

“Stupid rules. I want our kids back and Tiri back.” I tried to hold back a whine.

“We still have 13 days left, baby.”

I let loose a dramatic whine, “I’ve never not had the kids with us! Even before I mated with you and Neytiri, I watched the kids! I’ve never gone a night without the kids in the same room!”

“I know, baby, I’m thinking the same things. The marui is too quiet.” Jake rubs my back.

The breeze of the ocean, the crackle of the fire pit, and the creaking of the marui floors. There are no sounds of chatter or bickering. No Spider showing me the new Metkayina armband he had made and the healing from his tattoo. No Neteyam telling me about his day, as I teach him some olf human weaving. No Kiri chatting to me about the creatures she had seen today. No Lo’ak explaining the new fishing technique he learned or bemoaning about Aonung. No Tuk showing me the new necklace she had made that day, telling me about the friends she had made. I want my babies back! The burning of tears pricks at my eyes.

“Oh, baby girl. It will be okay; they’ll be back soon and tell us everything they did. They’ll talk through the eclipse and into the next sunrise. We’ll have to beg them to stop.” Jake kneels so he can hold me tighter, pulling my face into his neck.

I chuckle even though it sounds wet, “I know, and I know I’m being dramatic, but I don’t know how to do this right now.” My hands travel up, wrapping around his neck and holding his locks.

“That's okay, we’ll both figure it out. Maybe we can go for a ride on my tsurak, and go for a swim after?” He murmurs into my hair.

I look up from under my lashes, “Ride to our island?” I ask.

Jake’s tail swishes in delight, but his voice is calm. “Yeah, we can go to our island. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

I smile up at him, “We haven’t had enough time for us to go out in a while, with Neteyam healing and getting Spider accommodated. Although that kid adjusted better than all of us here.”

Jake groans from the reminder, “I know, seriously, he was not the kid I thought I’d have to beat suitors off with a stick.”

I laugh at his plight; watching him pop up like a daisy terrifying Spider’s admirers has become one of my favorite pastimes. However, I can’t help but wonder, if Jake is like this with his son, I can’t imagine what he’ll be like with Kiri and Tuk.

“Ha ha ha, I’m glad you find this funny. Now, I wouldn’t be laughing at the person who’s gonna take you for a ride.” Jake smirks.

“Okay, okay, it’s seeing you be overprotective over our kids. It turns me on a bit,” I admit with a sly grin.

Jake cocks an eyebrow, his expression matching mine, “It turns you on, baby? What else do I do that turns you on?”

“Well, when all the kids were little, and you’d cradle them in one arm, I’d see your biceps flex while holding our baby so tenderly.” I started.

“What else?” He noses my neck.

“When that creep in the scientist lab started paying too much attention to Kiri, you beat the ever-living shit out of him. That was like an aphrodisiac straight into my veins.”

“That’s what that was about? I just thought you and Neytiri started without me.” Jake laughed.

“Oh, we did. But our foreplay was me telling her everything you did in detail.” I whisper.

“Oh fuck, my girls are naughty.” Jake moans.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t love it. I believe that night you came more times than you ever had in one night. We worshiped you that night.” I tugged his locks as he nibbled on my neck.

“You did. Now I think it’s time I returned that favor tonight.” Jake attacked my neck with fervor, leaving open-mouthed kisses that dominated the whole side of my neck.

I gasp from the pleasure, loving my neck being played through. Jakes's lips and tongue lavish my neck with attention as he sucks the skin into his mouth, undoubtedly leaving a purple mark on my neck. Jake’s hands grasp my hips, just his two hands wrapped around my waist and touched. I love the way he makes me feel so small.

Jake’s enthusiasm continues as he trails down to my breasts, covered by a na’vi chest covering designed to also work as a bra, holding my breasts in place while woven in the traditional Omatikaya style. I couldn’t keep Netiri off of me, and Jake wasn’t subtle about how his slit was open whenever he saw my breasts.

Jake grunted in frustration, not liking his pursuit being hindered. So he ripped it off of me, stones, beads, and shells scattered across our marui.

“Jake!” I gasped, ignoring the heat in my loins, “That was the one I had just finished! Made from materials of the Awa'atlu waters!” I bemoaned all my hard work for nothing.

Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll just hold them with my hands. You won't need another covering again.” Jake grasped my breasts, one in each hand, and his lips found my nipple without hesitation.

I arched my back, thrusting my chest into his face as he sucked on my nipple. I pull Jake’s head to my chest, tugging on his locks.

“Oh, that feels good,” I moan.

Jake bites my nipple in response. His other hand wasn’t idle, rubbing, pulling, and tweaking the other nipple.

“Jake want more.” I gasp.

“More, baby? More what? You got to use your words.” From here, he switched breasts.

A blush erupts over my body, “Please, Jake, my pussy.”

One lone finger travels down my core, gently caressing through the tweng I wear, “Like this baby?”

I groan from his teasing, “Jake, don’t be a fucking tease,”

Smack! Jake’s large hand slapped my ass.

“Don’t be a fucking brat,” Jake growled, my ass stinging from his strike.

“Please, Jake-”

Smack! Burning pain flowing through my ass.

“That’s not the right name,” His voice low.

“Please, Sir, I need you in my pussy!” I beg.

“Good girl,” One of his long finers slips under my tweng, covering the digit in my slick, his thumb circling my clit.

“Sir, please, need you.” I roll my hips, grinding into his fingers.

Jake’s long finger entered my cunt, the single digit bringing a burning pleasure. Long, thick, and stretching me so much already, but he just leaves it there unmoving.

“There you go, baby, I’m inside you.” I didn’t have to look at his face to know he was smirking, using his other hand to stop my hips from moving.

“Sir!”

“What? I did exactly what you asked. I’m even playing with your clit. Aren’t I so good for you?” Jake’s teeth latch onto my ribs, sucking the skin into his mouth.

“Please, Sir, I want your cock.” I ask sweetly.

A booming laugh erupts from Jake as he backs off, his fingers leaving me, “You told me that I don’t prepare you enough. So no, baby, you don't get my cock.”

Running to Jake, I grasp at his tweng, unable to reach farther, “No, please, Sir! I was being a brat! Please punish me so I can have your cock!” I desperately beg, my eyes wide.

But I find no sympathy in his, only dark amusement, “Oh, I’ll punish you for being a brat. But you made yourself clear; you don’t get my cock until Neytiri returns and can prepare you herself.”

“No, please, Sir,” I beg one last time.

Smack! My ass was turning red just from the three hits. “That enough.” He finalizes, “Take off your tweng and lay on the table. On your front and hold the top of it.”

“Yes, Sir,” I mope as I drag myself over.��

Smack! Another hit to my ass, “Don’t fucking drag your feet, you asked for this.”

I quickly rushed to do as Jake said, not wanting to make my punishment worse. I haul myself onto the eating table, the cool wood bites into my nipples. I grab the top of the table as I stretch my legs out flat. Jake lets out a pleased hum as his hand gazes across my body. Once he reaches my wrists, his hand takes them into his hold. Grabbing a piece of my broken top, Jake binds my hands to the loop carved into the table before grabbing two more parts of the broken top. Jake soon leaves my vision as he goes behind me, his large hands pushing my thighs apart. Jake takes his time as he binds each of my ankles to the table. Bearing me to him and the marui.

“Now, ain’t this the perfect view. “ He admires.

A whine left me embarrassed from being this open.

“Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you.” Jake settles on the other end of the table, fitting himself between my thighs, “Now you’re gonna be a good girl for me and take what I give you.”

“Yes, Sir,” I mutter, voice muffled from the table.

Jake’s hands reach up and trail along my thighs, his nails leaving marks in their wait. “I fucking love your ass almost as much as your pussy.” His hands grope my ass, squeezing tight, “Now, about that punishment, you were pretty bratty earlier, but I know you’re upset, so I’ll let you get away with it this time.”

Smack! Another hit on my ass; one hand is big enough to cover both globes.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t spank this gorgeous ass. It’s one of my favorite things to do: watch it turn red and watch it move with each hit. I remember all those years ago when you begged Tiri and I to spank your ass. Fuck that was of your best ideas.” Jake enuncated with another spank.

With a harsh thrust, Jake fully seated a finger inside me.

“Oh! Fuck!” I shouted in surprise as he continued a thrust harshly.

Jake chuckles under his breath, deep-sounding, “That feel good, baby? I like having you scream on just a finger. So fucking tight.” Jake quickly adds a second one.

“Sir! Big, it’s big, Sir!” Trying to hump back onto Jake’s fingers.

Smack!

“Keep that ass still, and take what I give you!” He snarled.

Smack!

“Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!” I cry over the pleasure.

“Fucking good girl,” Jake said lowly.

I could barely hear what Jake said over the sounds coming from my pussy, the wet squelching noise loud with the thrusts of his fingers. Hearing those lewd sounds come from me makes the fire burning in me grow.

Jake taunted, “You want another finger, baby? Need me to stretch your little pussy wider?”

“Please, Sir!”

Smack!

“Words, baby, use your words!”

Smack!

“I want another finger, please, Sir!”

A third finger quickly joins inside, Jake never stopping his fast tempo. Moans spill from my lips, my breath skipping from the power of his thrusts.

“P-pl-please!” I beg, not sure for what.

“Please what babygirl? You gotta ask properly.”

Jake’s fingers rubbed and pressed on my g spot. He hit it every trust-in and scrapped his fingers on it every time he left. I don’t know what I want. All I know are his fingers and the way he makes me feel.

I scream out my frustration and pleasure, “Ple-please! D-don’t know! Please, Sir!”

“Don’t know, hmm? Then let sir take care of you. Come on, say it.” Cockiness eases through his every pore.

“Ple-Please! He-lp, me, Sir!” I sob.

The pleasure becoming too much, and the pain in my ass adding to the tightening in my core. Jake stands, leaning over the side, his fingers never leaving my cunt, but this position lets him go faster, harder.

“Okay, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.” With that, he thrust in his pinky.

“Oh fuck! Please!” I arch the best I can, wanting more of the stretch.

“Please, Sir! Need your cock! Please!”

Smack!

“I told you no! That’s final!” Jake growled out.

“Please! Want your cum! Want a baby! Please give me a baby!”

“Oh fuck,” I hear Jake whisper.

Then nothing. His fingers were ripped from my cunt, and Jake walked to my front, his hand holding where his slit was under his tweng. Jake kneels in front of me, kissing me soundly, full of passion.

“You want a baby? I’ll give you a baby.”

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #atwow #avatar way of water #kinktober #smut #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #writing #atwow fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

46 notes · View notes

waitmyturtles · 1 year

Text

What a WEEK IT HAS BEEN. Double Savage savaging, The Eighth Sense ending, The Promise sucking, the Our Skyy 2 x The Eclipse trailer dropping -- I’ve been taken on an emotional whirlwind by the drama gods. (Oh, and I’ve finished my Love Sick OGMMTVC analysis, which I’ll drop tomorrow. So THAT’S been bouncing in my head. AND, I started watching Make It Right. So I’ve ALSO been spending time with MORE turnt up teenage boys. GAWD. BRACES.)

ANYWAY. ALL OF THIS CONTEXT TO SAY: when Our Dining Table drops, I drop everything and run to it, because:

1) it’s beautifully done, as ever 2) it has the pace that I’m looking for in a show 3) it has delicious food, obvi, and 4) this week, we began to get very direct insights into Yutaka’s past that help us understand who he is -- and more importantly, helps Minoru to begin understanding who Yutaka is, and 5) we really begin to see Minoru cheese out on Yutaka, which is SO cute and SO great to see visualized, as opposed to the manga, which doesn’t offer quite the same nuances.

Our Dining Table gives me all the comfort. I keep, keep, keepin’ on, keep going back to the familiar blanket of Japanese BL doramas that brought me to this Tumblr space in the first place.

So: to thoughts on Our Dining Table, episode 4, we go.

We find out Yutaka was adopted, and made to feel incredibly uncomfortable about eating -- AND about joining in a family structure -- by the actions and behavior of his older adopted brother. We see Minoru utterly GIDDY with being able to spend time with Yutaka alone. We see Tane-kun doin’ his damn thing, being SO CUTE, OMG, I WANNA PINCH YOUR CHEEKS, CUTIE -- but also serving, of course, as a metaphor of the family that Yutaka has now been DIRECTLY INVITED to join, by dad Ueda-san himself. AND as a metaphor of the family that Yutaka had been NOT invited to join as a youngster, somewhat close to Tane-kun’s age.

Yutaka had been directly invited to join his adoptive family, also by his adoptive father. But we saw at the dining table of THAT family, how engagement and communication worked. There.... was none. At least, none coming from the parents. None at all. No correction, no discipline, no nothing. You were expected to fall into your role, eat in silence. Very patriarchal, very expected, very common. You exist, without existing, if that makes sense.

I just love comparing that paradigm to how we see the Uedas interacting, jovial and lively at the table, sitting on the floor on cushions, as opposed to stiff dining chairs, with Tane-kun laying down like an uncle after a big curry meal. (Sweet potatoes in curry, radical!) Tons of conversation, interaction, jokes, physical affection.

I love Yutaka staring into space. I love it. I love him falling into his meditations and Minoru catching him on it. The wheels are NOT quite turning yet for Yutaka -- he’s still dealing with the trauma of his childhood.

But he’s recognizing why he’s drawn to the Uedas. I think he’s beginning to define what that warmth means to him.

That’s why I LOVED THE FLASHBACKS, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. Yutaka is doing a comparative analysis of his past and present in those flashbacks. It was SO WARM AND SO CUTE. I LOVED every moment -- seeing what moments Yutaka was drawn to recalling, and how he compared them to his cold childhood. (If the show continues to hew to the manga, we’ll see how Yutaka ended up with his adoptive family, and it’ll all make sense.)

Oh, and I LOVED -- gah, my heart -- I loved how the episode ended with Minoru looking at the picture of his mother, and recognizing that his was not the only family who had gone through something. And we see in next week’s preview, that we get the story of the Uedas.

This show. Perfectly paced. Perfectly warm. Centered on food. Centered on family. Family warmth and growth. With every episode, we see Tane-kun getting more and more close to Yutaka -- and vice versa, as Yutaka pats Tane-kun’s full belly. It’s just....

It’s just perfect family warmth for me, the thing that I love about doramas so much, so much more than anything else in a show.

---

I want to quickly say that if you love the food in Our Dining Table, the last food-centered dorama that Japan produced was PHENOMENAL, and directed by Koreeda Hiroyuki, called The Makanai: Cooking For the Maiko House, which is on Netflix. Many of the food shots in Our Dining Table are reminding me of the cinematography of The Makanai -- simple, sumptuous, gorgeous.

I feel like The Makanai was one of the most important doramas to come out of Japan in recent years, and even though it’s not a BL, I think it’s really worth watching, to see how Kyoto and geisha/maiko culture still exists in the face of modern Japan. I learned a tremendous amount, and the acting was off the charts. Highly recommend if you have the time!

#our dining table #bokura no shokutaku #minoru x yutaka #yutaka x minoru #inukai atsuhiro #iijima hiroki #the makanai cooking for the maiko house

74 notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

Text

This is way out of my comfort zone, but for all you Nezriel lovers... here ya go! Nesta vs the Buffer - Part Two (18+)

Nesta had been about to extinguish the little lamp beside her bed when the door had knocked. She wasn’t sure if she had heard it correctly, the brush of knuckles had been so gentle like the sweep of the wind.

A male was at her door, dark head bowed as she opened it. Azriel’s hazel eyes flickered to hers.

‘Have you been sent to kill me?’

A crease pressed between his brows. ‘Do you think I would knock if that was the case?’

‘Well, you are very polite.’

It struck Nesta that they had never really had a conversation, just the two of them before. They had spoken, sure, but usually as part of a group or if other people were present. He was tall in his own right; not as physically imposing as Cassian, but he reached as high as the door frame. A thick sweeping of hair fell across his forehead. She’d always thought him the prettiest.

They stood in a strange stalemate. Two of her neighbours were arguing in their apartment; it was a common occurrence she had found out, though only occurred late at night. It would go on and on. On the second night, she had knocked to see if the female shrieking needed help – only to be told by both of them to mind her damn business.

‘Are you here for a reason?’

Azriel swallowed. A shadow eclipsed him briefly. ‘I suppose I wanted to see if you were okay.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

That dinner had been downright awful. Right from the start where she had tipped mushroom soup over herself and ended up wearing a dress that was too risqué, from being told the wrong time, for being forgotten and overlooked, all the way to her little eruption at dessert. None of it made her too embarrassed – except perhaps asking Varian if he slept with Cresseida. That was maybe slightly too far.

‘Can I stay here tonight?’

‘What?’ Nesta’s voice blurted, far too loudly. She tightened her dressing gown around her body then shifted back a step.

At her reaction, Azriel had grimaced slightly. ‘I continued what you started at the restaurant tonight. I don’t want to speak to them. And I know this is the last place they would expect me to be.’

Her apartment became a refuge for the shadow singer. When duty called, he returned to the inner circle. That wall of ice that surrounded him would not yield. He reported back to Rhys, winnowed wherever he had to for missions, but in his free time, he could be always found at Nesta’s apartment rather than spending another moment in their company. He didn’t share what happened at the restaurant. Nesta didn’t particularly care. She had said her piece and left the door open for him to swoop in

It was startingly easy to move around him. They orbited each other silently. Nesta might go out for a few hours, returning with a new book or Azriel would bring hot food with him from a café in Velaris. They never squabbled over using the bathroom, they ate the same food, had the same tastes, and were content to be in a reserved quiet. He didn’t get in her way, didn’t take up too much space. She only bothered him to offer him a drink or snack. Azriel always tidied the blankets on the couch each morning though Nesta doubted he slept much. Sometimes she could hear him, treading almost silently around the living room. It was only because she was still awake herself that she ever heard him.

One night when he’d knocked on late, she’d handed him a key, blinking at the bright lights in the corridor. ‘I’m sick of getting out of bed in the middle of the night. Let yourself in from now on.’

His eyes had passed over the key like Nesta had given him an heirloom. The pad of his thumb stroked along the collar and the bit. ‘Thank you.’

Another week passed with quiet conversations. She saw him only in the moments before she went to bed. A bat by looks and by nature, she had said, drawing a smile from him. Nesta liked those smiles because they were so rare. She had yet to see the shadow singer throw back his head in full-bellied laugher or to even show his teeth when he grinned. Azriel guarded himself carefully. It was a practise she knew very well.

Perhaps that was the reason why, that in such short space of time, they had warmed to each other. Nesta did not pry. Azriel did not either. He read reports. She read her books. She cooked. He cleaned. Sometimes he would disappear in the middle of the night, leaving the door on the latch, coming back before dawn, but Nesta didn’t interrogate.

‘Not that I want you gone, but I have to ask how long you do plan to be here for?’

A shadow danced near his ear, but Azriel swatted it away like a fly. How long will you remain angry with your family, she wondered. Would an equal measure of five hundred years dull the pain?

‘What I mean is, I feel terrible that you sleep on this dreadful couch. At your great age, it must play havoc with your back.’ A slight smirk from the shadow singer sent a wave of pride rushing over her. ‘If you planned on a long-term scenario… We could find another place with two bedrooms.’

‘You’d want to live with me?’

‘Why not? We already are.’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, threading a hand through his ebony hair. ‘The others tell me to loosen up, to lighten up, to be louder.’

A cocoon of silence always followed him. He never rushed his words or said more than he needed to.

‘I like you as you are,’ Nesta admitted.

Something charged passed through their gaze. Nesta felt it spike in her veins like a spark. Shadows blurred him from view so she took that as her cue to go to bed.

***

‘Why do you leave the room when I light a fire?’ Azriel couldn’t keep the question in. He had been staying there for almost three weeks now. With the arrival of colder weather, he’d fought against his revulsion for fire to keep the apartment warm for them. And every time that first tendril of flame had come to life, Nesta would depart to the bedroom. ‘Is it my hands?’

He kept his hands balled into fists, the scars taut over his bones. Nesta froze in the doorway to her bedroom, a book clutched to her chest. Instinct had her gaze darting to his hands then she shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘My hands,’ he repeated, the words unsure on his lips. He hated this. Hated drawing attention to them.

Nesta drew nearer hesitantly. She set the book down on the small table. ‘I don’t know what happened to your hands. I don’t have an issue with them, Azriel.’

Azriel tensed. He had thought all the sisters knew. The story had been given wings in secret as if it would spare Azriel’s feelings if they all knew without him having to share the story.

‘What happened to your hands?’ Her voice was gentle. It was the gentle tone Nesta only ever reserved for Elain. Firmly, she caught hold of each hand and pressed them both between her own. It was the first time that somebody hadn’t examined them, hadn’t tried to cast an inconspicuous look upon them when they were the topic of conversation. She had acknowledged them, but hadn’t given them value. He was more than his scars.

‘My father and his wife kept me imprisoned in darkness for years. My brothers poured oil on my hands then lit them.’

The words were rough. He’d told the story only once before – over five hundred years ago when he had finally trusted Rhys and Cassian enough to share it with them.

Azriel could not look at Nesta. Could not bear to see if she was about to inspect his hands. He braced himself for the words that so many said. They were words that ruined him, no matter how well intended they were – have you seen a healer? Can they not be glamoured away? Why don’t you wear gloves?

Nesta merely squeezed his hands tighter with her own and said, ‘I cannot be near a fire because when it cracks, I am back on that field. I am watching the King of Hybern break my father’s neck. When I hear the logs split, I am waiting to die at the hands of the king.’

Not all scars could be seen. What his blood had done to him had ruptured a part so deep that it would never heal. What Nesta had been exposed to in the war festered in her chest too.

They had showed their insecurity to the other. It was strange to let her in – strange to let anybody in, least of all the cold and imperious Nesta Archeron.

On the couch, they sat in silence. He allowed Nesta to look at his hands without hiding them away. Her fingers found patterns in the brutal scarring rather than being repulsed by it. Azriel was sure that there wasn’t a scar that she hadn’t touched. If she was faking it, hiding her disgust, she was a good actress. Even Mor had always faltered slightly before touching them as if they might catch and her unblemished hands would be ruined.

Every time the fire spat, Nesta’s body would tense. She’d grip onto his hands until she had coasted through the wave of anguish. They were each other’s anchor that night.

The following morning, they did not acknowledge the moment they had shared. Azriel wasn’t even sure if he had dreamt it. A mutual trust had grown between them without realising. He found himself watching her butter toast with an expression that anybody else might read as severe. Nesta always looked as if she was scrutinising something even if she wasn’t. Her smiles were there, but locked away. On the rare occasion that Azriel had prised a genuine laugh from her, it bathed him with warmth. She would tip back her head and screw her eyes shut. Her laughs were beautiful.

He postponed his trip to Illyria slightly. Nesta had made them both breakfast, unexpectedly, and he was too guilty to leave it untouched. They had sat together at the narrow table tucked by the kitchen, eating in a peaceful silence.

‘I’ll be back before dinner today. If that’s alright?’

‘I won’t complain,’ she said.

There was a note in her voice that gave Azriel pause, gave him a reason to drink her in a minute longer. He thought of the way that she had cradled his hands last night. The gentle side of her that so rarely saw the light of day. How she had leaned on him for support – and he’d been happy to steady her.

‘Then I’ll come back as soon as I can.’

‘Good.’

In one syllable, Azriel’s mind raced. One syllable had him postulating over a thousand different outcomes.

Shadows enveloped him, prising him away to Illyria. The prickles that covered his body whenever he reached his homeland seemed softer today, wrapped in silk rather than iron. He glanced down at his hands as if remembering the feel of Nesta’s fingers there like she was following rivers on a map.

‘I’ve seen that look before,’ a low voice murmured.

Azriel snapped his head up, jerking away slightly.

‘No,’ Rhys breathed in awe. ‘I caught you by surprise. Five hundred years and I have finally made you jump.’

Azriel rolled his eyes. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘So, who is she? What beguiling female has put that dreamy look in your eyes?’

His shadows curled around him, whispering that they would strike if he wanted them to. They had always protected him.

‘Where’s Devlon? Let’s get this over with.’

Rhys did not drop the subject as they marched across the windy paths of Windhaven, pausing occasionally to inspect the sparring rings they passed. ‘One day, you will finally bring a female home for us to meet.’

‘Keep waiting.’

Cassian dropped out of the sky with a heavy thud. At the sight of him, Azriel felt hot and sick all at once. He kept his face trained on the young male nearest them who was examining weapons.

After their rooftop argument, Cassian had given him the space that he knew he needed. When the time was right, he had sought him out at the River House, likely after arranging with Rhys to summon him there. Cassian had been genuine with his apology. Whenever their paths had crossed since, his brother always begged him to come back home. To the House of Wind. To the River House. Just to come home.

Yet, when Azriel had asked Nesta if Cassian had apologised to her for hurting her feelings – for letting Mor come between whatever had been budding there - she’d folded her arms across her chest and said no.

‘I don’t want an apology from him. I don’t want anything from him.’

That memory diverted his guilt into righteousness. Nesta had held his hands only – and she had every right to do that. She was not promised to Cassian. Azriel was not tangled with anyone. They were friends. Friends doing nothing wrong. Still, he couldn’t manage to look into Cassian’s eyes for very long.

The day was busy examining new recruits. Their days would follow a similar pattern until the worst of the winter came, Az knew the schedule well. They’d visit each camp to see what lecherous males each camp lord had recruited that autumn then they would assess the likelihood of any of them making the Blood Rite the following year.

‘Come for dinner,’ said Rhys. It was an order rather than an invitation.

Cass slung an arm around his shoulders. ‘We can make a night of it. Mor’s not there. She’s in the Continent still.’

The reproachful look from Rhys hadn’t faded quick enough for Azriel to miss. Mor had cried on the roof, apologised, said she wanted to be his friend. Like a bucket of water had been thrown on hot coals, any lingering feelings for her had been extinguished. More than anything, Azriel was a fool.

For years, he had nurtured a hope of them. He thought perhaps she still needed time. Needed time to meet new people after a youth spent in captivity, after what her family had done to her. Time to explore the world, time to have fun. It had not mattered to him how many lovers she had taken to bed. On the occasions that she blew hot and cold towards him, he was always unable to figure Mor out. She would invite him close then push back. He blamed it on her past, blamed it on her mother and father. Often, he blamed himself too. She would not see him as anything more than a lesser fae savage so Azriel held back. Once, he had tried to confess how he felt.

The memory of that day was scarred into his mind; of confessing that he knew he was unsuitable for her, but he still wanted her. Without a word, Mor had walked away. A bastard lesser fae savage whose father hated him enough to lock him up. The shame had burnt him. That shame of daring to believe that Mor might have given him a chance – that any female would risk sullying themselves with a male like him.

Each time that Mor flirted with his brother, those feelings wilted more and more. Cassian was like him – and that was what he could never understand. They were both Illyrians. Both bastards. Yet Azriel was somehow less worthy of her touch. He'd blamed it on his hands, blamed it on the shadows that made others uncomfortable. Then he’d even thought that maybe he had imagined the soft smiles and loving touches that she gave to him; that he was so desperate for Mor that he was creating a love story that didn’t exist.

‘I didn’t want things to change,’ she’d wept on the roof, gripping the buttons of his shirt. ‘I like how things are between us.’

Those words had cracked the ice. She liked him to be her shield against her family, against Eris. Azriel had been her knife too. But she did not want him. She would use Cassian to put him off regardless of the strain it put on the brothers. That was what she liked, because the alternative was facing up to the fact that for five hundred years, she had let him believe he was not worthy of her rather than being honest. She would strike out at Nesta because she realised that Nesta would take away the one barrier that stopped the truth from leaking out.

‘I have places to be,’ he said coldly.

***

Azriel was one the most difficult people to read that Nesta had ever encountered. When he had arrived home that evening, tension had bracketed his body. It wasn’t unusual. It didn’t offer anything to his mood.

She was learning to observe his shadows. Sometimes they were excitable, moving quickly without restraint when Azriel was in a more playful mood. Other times, they stayed close by to comfort or to protect. Tonight, they were gone. Nesta didn’t know what that meant.

They ate quietly. Azriel did not divulge on his day, but he had thanked her for cooking and asked how her own day had been. Nesta had been into the city. The male had insisted on providing coin for his opulent lodging of the broken couch, so she had spent some money on wooden children’s games to occupy the time with the approach of winter. Nesta was happy to find that many were similar to mortal games she had played with servants.

‘You don’t want to play cards with me,’ said Azriel after his shower. His dark hair was damp and curled around his face. ‘I cheat.’

‘You’re a very honest cheat,’ she acknowledged, shuffling the cards. ‘Since I have no other company, you will have to do.’

They knew similar games and established rules. It had been a long time since Nesta had played games. She thought of the elderly servant who had seemingly always been a part of the household staff when she was little. Somehow, he had learnt sleight of hand tricks. Nesta had believed it to be faerie magic and would watch in wonder as he’d always guess what her card had been or how he’d transform her card into a toffee for her to gobble. He’d had a hacking cough, veiny hands, and grew thinner each time Nesta sought him out in the gardens. One day, he never came to the manor again. When she’d asked her father, he’d simply said the servant was gone.

‘Why do you keep glancing over your shoulder?’ Azriel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you expecting somebody?’

She bit down on her lower lip. ‘I’m trying to work out how you cheat. I keep thinking there will be a shadow behind me, spying on my cards.’

‘They don’t make you uncomfortable?’

They were a part of him. ‘Of course not.’

Once games became tiresome, Nesta asked the male about the Blood Rite. She had purchased books about Illyria to better understand that part of the land. Their training was brutal, lives were short for many. She couldn’t fathom dumping a child in a war camp. It reminded her of baby birds that were pushed out of the nest and forced to fly. Many more didn’t.

‘These ones,’ Azriel said, gesturing to the whorls of black ink running over his bare arms, ‘are standard for most warriors. They’re associated with luck and glory. After the Blood Rite, males receive more in a ceremony. Bodies are flagging but you have to stand up for one more night of drinking and tattoos. That’s the final test.’

‘You have those?’

Azriel nodded, eyes searching her face. ‘You receive more depending on your status. The three of us touched Ramiel so we received the highest honours.’

‘Show me them.’

***

Obliging, Azriel pulled off his shirt. Nesta’s eyes canvassed his chest, tracking the details in the ink. Wrong. So wrong. Their conversation was minimal as she committed the hard planes of his body to memory. Both of them knew they were crossing a boundary tonight. From Nesta’s fervour, as she touched his skin, Azriel surmised she didn’t care.

Fingers traced the whorls with an intensity that a scholar might brush the letters of an ancient text, seeking answers. Her knuckles tracked up Azriel’s neck and he lifted his chin as she reached his jaw.

‘What do you want?’ His voice was a quiet warning in the dark.

A muted smile was his response. ‘You’ll make me beg for it?’

Azriel followed the pattern his thumb drew on Nesta’s collar bone, the daring sweep of it below the cut of her gown. His eyes flickered back to her. ‘I want to hear it from your lips.’

Wanted to hear if she was brave enough to voice it. Wanted confirmation that it was not just him getting lost down a path they never should have wandered down. Wanted to know that he wasn’t wasting his feelings once more on someone who didn’t value him.

Nesta brushed his hand aside. She appraised him with the same steel look that she had given to every high lord in the Dawn Court meeting.

In a swift motion, she straddled his lap. Now, she was the one pushing him to his limit. Seeing how brave he would be. A hand stroked against his hair then it was holding him in place.

‘I want you to kiss me.’

So, he’d obliged. Nesta had leant forwards and everything had felt as if it was moving at a different pace. The fire’s movements were slow and sluggish. The world even stopped turning on its axis.

They had moved too fast. Azriel’s lips crushing against Nesta. A flush spreading up her cheeks as he kissed down to her neck in a fevered motion. Her hand had raked through his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers.

Her hips had circled his lap. His hands curved around to grip her waist, to help the motion that was undoing him. Nesta’s soft moans were a beacon to him, calling for more.

It was a mistake. Every kiss, every tantalising touch was a mistake. He should have stopped.

She’d been confident, tugging him to the bedroom, hands gliding up his bare back. She hadn’t said stop when he lifted her against the wall, kissing so deeply time halted. Hadn’t protested when he’d roughly pulled her dress off, not when he’d run his scarred hands over her beautiful body.

He hadn’t known. Hadn’t realised she was a maiden until he had given the first thrust, felt her body shudder around him, the sharp spike of her breath against his ear. He’d seen the blood after and nearly vomited. He should have been softer. Shouldn’t have rushed straight into bedding her. Shouldn’t have pressed his body so tightly to Nesta’s that her hips ground into his skin. He’d crossed a line. His mind buzzed with a thousand feelings, a thousand scenarios.

Revenge. Was that what Cassian would think? Some sick payback for him sleeping with Mor all those years ago?

Nesta leaned over the bed, fumbling for anything to regain her modesty. He couldn’t let her think she was a pawn in a game of vengeance. Azriel rushed to the bathroom, found a cloth to soak with tepid water. He hesitated from cleaning her himself and instead pressed it into her hands.

‘I didn’t know you were a maiden.’

Why was it worse that she was? Because Azriel knew how the others would view it when it came to light. Knew that for a once-mortal female, this should have been special and he had been rough with passion.

‘Not anymore,’ she muttered.

Azriel faced the wall, allowing Nesta the privacy she deserved. He heard the slide of a drawer then a night gown being pulled over her head. He fixed her with a look. ‘Did I hurt you?’

For a fraction of a second, her face faltered. ‘Just at the start.’

His chest tightened at the admission. ‘Sorry.’

Azriel knew he should leave. Knew he should not have ever come to her apartment. It had been a dangerous game, right from the start. Night after night, they’d edged further down a path that there was no returning from with their growing companionship. But if he left and never came back then Nesta would think she’d been used. That had not been his intention. Never would be his intention.

When Nesta tugged the sheets from the bed, balling them up to hide the blood, Azriel started on the pillow cases too. It was a way of atoning. Remove all traces of the illicit night they had shared.

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to,’ he murmured.

Silently, they stripped the bed then placed fresh sheets onto it. Nesta didn’t ask him to stay in her bed and he didn’t want her to.

He flew as far as he could, to the furthest reach of Illyria. He had well and truly fucked up everything.

***

Any soreness did not linger. Nesta found herself unable to concentrate without memories of her night spent with Azriel pulsing to the surface. Heat flooded her body when she remembered the way he had moaned against her skin as he entered her. Her breath shuddered each time she recalled the flicker of his tongue against her ear.

When she imagined her first time with a male, it ought to have been a wedding night to a bland mortal man her parents had arranged for her. As a fae, the vision had shifted to a fantasy of a dreamy male who loved and cherished Nesta. He’d have lit candles around the room, proposed maybe, scattered petals and moved his hips a few times until he found release while she had lay beneath him like a plank of wood.

Her imagination had disappointed her. It hadn’t been able to conjure the thrill that Azriel’s hands had. Hadn’t crafted the same pounding excitement when Nesta had taken control and climbed onto his lap. It was more intimate than anything she could have dared to dream. The shadow singer had caressed all of her, unable to settle on one place he wanted to touch. Desire had been the tinder and want the flame. They’d moved together in waves finding pleasure in each other’s bodies. There had been no reluctance or shyness, only lust.

She supposed she would not see him again. The white horror sheeting his face when he had realised that she had been a maiden was enough to deter him. It would be a secret warded in the dark whenever they were in shared spaces.

@canvashearts

#nesta vs the buffer #azriel x nesta #nezriel #nesta archeron #azriel #there will be a few more parts to this

245 notes · View notes

mandalhoerian · 2 years

Text

total eclipse of the heart | 1

�� Once upon a time there was light in my life, but now there's only love in the dark. Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart. ❞

Pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

Note: fem!reader, jedi librarian!reader

Summary: Love is the death of duty, and duty is the death of love. This is the story of you and your fellow Jedi Anakin Skywalker orbiting around each other in this never-ending, all-consuming cycle.

Warning(s): nothing else but pining and yearning lmao . also my amateur-ish 2016 writing + sun/moon dynamic GALORE . ur gonna be SICK of this imagery at the end of this. sue me. its not named the way it is for no reason HAHA

Word Count: 1455

1 | 2

If Anakin Skywalker is a star, colliding with swirling and thundering nebulas that shine upon his eyes; then you are a mere moon destined to never ever leave your planet's side.

If Anakin is a star in a whole system, a sun; then you are still the humble moon in your humble life, which occasionally lines up with that sun to create an incredible sight to witness.

This is how your relationship is, actually. Your lives collide like hands of a clock when they have to, but this team-up never lasts too long in order with a Jedi's obligation to keep moving thanks to the raging war tearing the galaxy apart.

A Jedi Knight and a Jedi Librarian don’t tend to cross roads often, and certainly mix like oil and water.

Jumping around system to system wherever the orders of the Jedi Council took him naturally led to him barely ever around in the Temple and that had almost mythicized the person emerging as The Hero With No Fear adorning the headlines of HoloNet. General Skywalker quickly had become a walking beacon for attention with his brilliance in the battlefield and his unconventional way of practicing his profession.

Maybe it was your peace-and-quiet seeking self (who just wanted to research in your own pace) being grumpy, but you wouldn’t say he is an outstanding example to look up to for Padawans and Younglings with the way he made them get used to the archives as the meeting point to gossip and share stories.

From what Master Kenobi had told you in a passing conversation when you were complaining, it was his old habit to in the past as a Padawan to use the Archives as somewhere he could do anything other than reading because he found staying in one place stuck in a seat and glued to holobooks boring - boring! - so he had influenced others of his age to tag along in his shenanigans until he was banned from the hall for a limited amount of time. You’d asked Master Kenobi just what exactly he had done to piss your mentor off that badly but all you got was a half-tired, half-embarrassed smile before he’d scurried off Force knows where.

(You still couldn’t believe he found learning boring.)

All things aside, you could do without picking up something something Skywalker being whispered about between preteens hidden behind shelves as you were buried in a new hyper-fixation, really. Years of getting used to quietness had brought annoyance lit like a forest fire as a downside when you were disturbed. It wasn’t him doing it intentionally as he was systems away, but if he were to pop out somewhere when you were in a particularly bad mood, you were sure you’d hurl your oldest trusty datapad at his head. Not a second wasted for the hesitation factor.

It was a place to seek knowledge in serenity, and Skywalker had shoved his invisible hand in here and stirred the pot so irreversably that most of your time was spent patrolling around in the Archives like a dog to keep the young ones in line. “Madame Librarian alert!” line, referring you barreling down the corridors running on your tiptoes, had spread like a plague and even your former Master Jocasta Nu was amused by the inside joke that made your ears smoking red.

It was annoyance at his shadow intruding on your relatively unaffected life by the war at first. Yes, it had all started with your one-sided animosity at him ——

—— only to be turned upside down on its after he had come to your rescue (our of nowhere, really) in what you knew to be a bounty hunter’s heist on the holocron vaults in the archives. You had no idea your body was capable of getting that red when he had all but manhandled you around to get you away from blaster shots raining down in intent to kill. Skywalker was all but taunting smirks and remarks in the action to turn the tide around and you were tight-lipped and shock-bound, the difference between you, the professionalism and the abilities, were the size of mountains. The gentleness and sweet concern for your wellbeing wrapping around you like a weighted blanket when the danger was over, though, was a contrast you weren’t even aware that you didn’t expect.

You honestly had no idea what had happened, you were left alone with the feelings you’d caught for him after he left like the whirlwind that he was.

You took it as a lesson to learn from yet another piece of work you’d finished and used in training, made him to be a fleeting ideal and a funny what-if to be entertained in your mind, you reminded yourself every time you catch a glimpse of him here and there that the Chosen One had to be unreachable.

You were sure your path as a Jedi was being tested on purpose by the universe as the time went on.

You did not like the fact that you had undeniable feelings for this guy. Not one bit. Annoying little moths bounced around in your stomach when someone muttered his name ever so softly in your library now, and the initial dislike was nowhere to be found -- on the contrary, you wanted to hear more about his newest victory.

There was a reason why you were pursuing a life the Order, you had principles and it was simply no way in dead stars that you’d throw this all away for the unattainable Anakin Skywalker. A guy who has absolutely no interest for you, to top it all.

You‘ve had asked yourself, Would I be willing to love him openly if he looked at me the way I looked at him?, a couple of times when your relationship were developing from strangers to colleagues. The Jedi in you knew it was not wise to think like this, to hope like this.

Expectations that shouldn’t exist in the first place, you took as more lessons to overcome as Jedi. What were you going to do, keep being (barf) lovesick until the feelings decided to evaporate? Would they ever?

So you used them in your studies. Easy. It’s duty.

In the meanwhile, you tried your best to hide even little things: the way you lingered on him when he wasn’t looking while randomly passing you by in the halls, the smile you faked to play the part when he waved at you from afar to say hello. The quiet daydreams that came over you while reading. You kept to yourself.

At the end, It wasn’t the decision to stay away from him that hurt, it's the flashbacks that followed.

Anakin Skywalker is a star, you're a mere moon that chose to only shine with borrowed light, and you’d come to like watching him shine, from afar. And the point of no return for you was the moment you had discovered a stumbling flicker in the light of that star.

After the excitement would die down, you saw the way he would take in the clones' happiness and growing hope to win this war. You knew the way he would boast about it, being all prideful and valiant like the man he is; but later on, discovered him staring off tiredly into the blackness shining with an infinite amount of diamonds spread across, his sky blue eyes nearly ultramarine with not the lighting, but with the heaviness of his worries, hurting for others.

Intimate moments like this in which Anakin looked more like a human than a supreme being got to you. In those, you resented unraveling him; what was hidden beneath the shiny exterior of The Chosen One. Yet you were drawn to his orbit just as much as you wanted to get away, and you shot off from the comforting confines of the archives and voicelessly floated beside him to be an unexpected yet welcome guest -- a conversation friend at most, maybe, voicing your opinions about... things. To lift the weight off his shoulders, anything not to see him in grief like that again.

You let him in on your fears, your humanity behind the Jedi image, sometimes strategies you’d discovered belonging to the records of the Old Republic regarding the war — even when you knew whatever you blabbered about lecturing had nothing on his genius and was probably more boring than reading to him.

When your feelings roared behind your shy whispers that echoed in his ears, the anxiety that he had figured you out by now squeezed your heart in a durasteel fist, it was a warning that he’d try to pry and not a hair in your body would pick up on it because he overwhelmed all your senses already.

But if you were good at something, that would be hiding away. Hiding away from yourself, from everything. In the Archives, and buried in the shifting pages of datapads and holoscreens.

But as long as you meditated, you were fine. Having feelings for Anakin was something you got used to overtime, you knew how to keep yourself steady, you’d normalized it.

You thought you knew everything about what this man could do to you by now. You were safe.

But deep down you knew, you knew that only a fool would think they know everything rather than a wise man.

He loved a Senator.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars imagine #story: total eclipse of the heart #shai's writings

128 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 2 years

Text

This Week in BL - Decent Line Up, Actually

Sept 2022 Wk 1

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying the most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Eclipse (Fri YT) Ep 4 of 15 - It’s a good thing the two leads are excellent at loooooooooooong ... pauses.... and.... the.... longing.... look..., since GMMTV seems to be bent on using them for that 90% of the time. Akk is learning teachers are bullies too, which Aye already knew of course. The single tear was s nice touch. Multiple “crash into mes” this episode. Who does Thailand think they are, Taiwan?

My Only 12% (Fri iQIYI) Ep 4 of 15 - these two put the codependent back in codependent and I don’t see how this can possibly end well. Ho boy are we in for a rough ride. I do get Love Sick vibes off this show on occasion, New discovering his roots. PAIN iS COMING! Also, second lead syndrome strikes again! Also baby noona romance side dish action. Yay!!! Also what a pleasure to see Earth stretch his acting chops again, it’s seems like forever since UWMA. Also what an identity crisis to see ones self on screen. But also THIS IS WHY WE NEED WIDELY distributed queer entertainment. So kids can see themselves on screen. Did his sister know, of course she did.

The movie Eiw and his sister watch is The Love of Siam from 2007, widely regarded as Thailand’s first BL (it’s not BL, it’s a queer coming of age movie but it is a precursor to BL). It’s about childhood friends who grow up together and fall in love, but do not end up together. It’s sad. For anyone confused during that section. This does not bode well for out heroes.

Vice Versa (Sat on YT) Ep 8 of 12 - I’m actually getting pretty bored with this one now, the movie within the movie plot line doesn’t jive with me. And I’m just frustrated by Tun intentionally keeping his real identity secret from Talay. I’m starting to watch it on speed and a half, which honestly I rarely do with GMMTVs products. Hi Perth! The time has come, Thailand, for us to have a conversation about 90s fashion. Here’s the thing, if you put an already small person in oversized clothing they just look smaller and even more childlike. Perth looks 12 in this ep. It’s an okay kiss. Presumably, now that Tun got what he wanted in terms of “somebody liking him for who he really is inside and not for his actor cred or appearance” he should tell Talay who he really is now. RIGHT?

21 Days Theory (Sun YT ) Ep 4fin - The coming out to friends thing was cute and well handled. The reason for the split was also good and the resolution was logical with Frank being the one seeking an explanation. Why it didn’t end with a dash to the airport and a kiss, I will never know. This would have jumped high in my rating if they had bothered to finish it like the YA romance it clearly was. But this ending was ultimately disappointing. 6/10 I’m not mad, but I’m not happy either.

Coffee Melody (Mon Viki) Ep 7 of 10 - Jean is full of snark and I love him. But I feel like Yi has had no character growth whatsoever. He just gets what he wants or reacts badly to not getting what he wants. That’s it, that’s his whole personality. He hasn’t matured at all and he hasn’t learned anything from his prior experiences, it just makes him frustrating and childish. Not innocent but immature. He is another one of those characters that I don’t understand why anybody likes him. He only thinks and talks about himself and his own feelings, and he’s never depicted being kind or generous as a friend or sibling or anything. I really am only watching this one for Jean and his bf: Mr. magical pink hair.

Love in the Air (Thurs iQIYI) Ep 3 of 13 - Continues it’s odd liguistic Dom gaslighting MAME agenda apace. DUMPSTER FIRE TRASH WATCH ALONG HERE.

Unforgotten Night (Weds on GaGa) Ep 11 of 12 - i moved it to double bill with Love in the Air for drinking purposes and this is a good idea. Just really boring this week but I was so tipsy I barely noticed. TRASH WATCH HERE!

Check Out (Sat IQIYI) Ep 12fin - Well Tee & Ice were cute. I liked the other guy better though. And that’s all I got. 4/10 FATALLY FLAWED NOT RECOMMENDED

What If (Mon WeTV) Is on WeTV but for VIP only (pay wall). Neighbors who grew up together and have special feelings for each other but keep it to themselves. And then... university. Still on my TBW.

Work from Heart (Thurs WeTV? YouTube?) from DV8 an office BL featuring lots of other couples. Stars Love With Benefits pairing Gameplay & Folk. It isn’t even listed on WeTV streaming in my territory, but it is airing to WeTV Thailand. No word on distribution.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Minato’s Laundromat (Japan Weds GaGa) Ep 10 of 12 - I just love how gentle this series is with its characters and with us. Japan can be so harsh about both. SQUEE WATCH ALONG

About Youth (Taiwan Mon GaGa) Ep 1-2 of 10 - It’s truly great. Taiwan's Love Sick featuring a modern queer take on AePete: popular but painfully lonely rich kid, Guang (complete with evil pressure-cooker tiger parents) meets and is basically adopted by poor nerdy (secret rockstar) Qizhang. HE EVEN HAS AE’S TOTE!!! Secondary couple is Guang’s adorable bestie Ray and a cafe boy (we think). Lots of BL trope drops but also this is seriously queer and very Taiwan with an earnestness I haven’t seen since My Ride. it’s got the charm of Takura but with more depth to it, less surface cute and more real world authenticity. Not that I normally like that in my BL, but I’ll forgive Taiwan (and the Philippines) for their sticky almost dirty style if it is this endearing and engaging (see Gameboys). I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. Did you see our boy Wilson Liu (H3:MODC & H4) showed up?

Takara-kun and Amagi-kun (Japan Thurs GaGa & Viki) 3 of 8 - also really flipping good. It’s just so great with both of them liking each other, and already in a relationship, and both so nervous about what to do. It’s just completely and totally high school first love. I have no good reason for loving it as much as I do. The twist of Amagi admitting to everything and his confusion over sex was absolutely brilliant, especially as we can all understand Takara’s reaction (leave the room) except poor Amagi. Also Takara’s dead pan “this boy is fucking killing me” expression is brilliant. Can’t wait until we get his POV next week.

Papa & Daddy 2 (Mon GaGa) Ep 5 of 8 - This was mostly the dads being dads and dealing with dad problems. And since that’s the name of the show, I’m not too upset about it. Honestly, I would’ve ended the series on this episode.

Want to See You (Vietnam YT) Ep 14fin - And now it’s suddenly slapstick and comedic? Tonally, this show was all over the place, hugely inconsistent in characterization and motivation. No clean narrative through line. Nothing anyone did actually ever made sense. As a VBL it probubly should get a 6, but it gets 5/10 out of pure frustration. WATCH ONLY IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO

In Case You Missed It

Kiss X Kiss X Kiss - Perfect Scandal can be found on Billibi, these are SHORT 5-8 minutes sample pack micro-romances: 2 feature BL-ish setups. The one with the idols I got excited about last week (Idol Kiss) and another featuring a reluctant boss and flirty subordinate (A Sweet Kiss). Both are cute but mostly just, ya know, kissing. (Reminds me a bit of Korea’s early Triple Do You Want). The interesting thing about the idol one, is one of the leads is ALSO in a het installment. He gives great chemistry with both his partners. And I think he’s a good example of an actor being just, ya know, an actor about the physical part of a romance. Which I take about in terms of never assuming queerness based on performance, here.

BL Express posted a review of Fudanshi Bartender no Tashinami (AKA Accomplishment of Fudanshi Bartender). It sounds A LOT like another kind of Absolute BL thing from Japan, but focused on the fudanshi side of the equation and I could not be less intersted so I will not be watching.

Gossip

New Pinoy BL from OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince) announced, called Tie The Not.

Semantic Error the movie (with a re-edit + added footage) aired for Korean, Taiwanese, and Vietnamese audiences. No idea on further distribution.

EEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! Strongberry's upcoming romantic-comedy Choco Milk Shake will be 8 episodes with total run-time around 80 mins! A full length KBL from Strongberry!!! Yay!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Ending: Unforgotten Night thank effing heck.

I posted a full September line up here!

This week’s best moments?

Ironic much? (Check Out reviews itself)

Supportive friends are the best (21 Days Theory).

The brave little tote bag that could LIVES!!!! It is reborn. It has crossed oceans! (From Love By Chance to About Youth.)

More guest cameos for Taiwan!

The Viki translations won, this week on Takara & Amagi’s weekly sub-off (no D/s pun intended)

Noona romance side in My Only 12%!

Perceptive boy. (The Eclipse)

Way better if it’s just: I’d eat it right from your face. (Vice Versa)

Just such a classic series of yaoi shots (visuals) to end this week’s ep of Minato’s Laundromat.

(last week)

current earworm? Jang Woo Hyuk’s Echo

92 notes · View notes

pali-makto · 1 year

Text

seer.

chapter 3.

warnings: reader uses she/her pronuouns. reader has certain distinct features described (hair and eyes). a lot of repetition. lowercase intended. uses of y/n. mo’at is probably ooc. all canon characters will probably be ooc. sappy teenager stuff towards the end.

summary: training continues, y/n has another vision and meets someone special.

word count: 3.2k

as soon as training with the matriarch of the clan finished, she walked home. legs aching and head hurting, of so much talk of plants, the young girl convinced that she was going to start hating them.

“kaltxi, ‘itetsyip. how did the first day of training go?” “i’m tired, you were not joking. i realized you were right but i am not going to stop going to training.” the girl admitted. “glad to know you see reason, tanhi.” her father commented. “very funny, sempu.” the tsakarem said, sarcastically. “taronyutsyip, what did you do today?” she asked her brother. “sa’nu took me on her ikran, and then we went looking for plants for her salves.” the young boy said, no tone in his delivery. the oldest sister squinted her eyes, something was not right. “did something happen, tsmukan? did someone hurt you?” she asked. wanting to get answers. “tanhi, he just woke with a fever, leave him be.” her mother responded. ‘i’m going to make you laugh.” the oldest sister said, matter-of-factly. “‘itetsyip, you must be hungry, come eat.” the tsakarem crossed the tent to grab the leaf with food from her mother and sat down to eat. after eating and swallowing the first bite, the young girl spoke again. “something happened, the tent is never this quiet, tell me what happened.” she demanded. “your grandmother spoke to your father about you becoming tsakarem.” her mother responded. the young girl looked at her mother in shock, and asked. “which grandmother?” “ingma te ulua amha’ite.” “sempu’s mother?” she asked, incredulously. “exactly that person, paskalin.” her father responded, head hung.

“well, don’t leave me hanging. what did she say?” the tsakarem exclaimed, curious as to what the elder said. it was not often she heard from her grandmother or even interacted with her. “well, she is curious as to how you became tsakarem, and as always to my guess, she is going to want to meddle with your training.” “but how did she know that i became tsakarem?” “‘itetsyip, she knows everything, she knew that your sempul and i mated before we even told the clan. don’t put it beneath her to find out something that is none of her business.” her mother responded. “why don’t we invite her over for a meal one day?” the young girl suggested. “are you feeling okay, tanhi?” her mother asked, putting a hand to her forehead. “i am not sick sa’nu, i am being serious, if she wants to know, then she’ll know.” “look at you making the first move, looks like we have the future tsahik right in our home.” her mother teased. “she has a point, yawne. what if we just put her questions to rest once and for all.” rämun said. “kehe ma rämun, this is why we have not talked to her since tanhi was born. she has always tried to meddle in our family, and i will not let her meddle in our daughter’s life, especially this that is fragile.” meyki declared. “sa’nu, it is just one time and i am sure if she makes any comments that seem inappropriate or out of place, one of you will stop her.” the young na’vi remarked. “finish eating, paskalin. this is a conversion for another time.” her father added. after eating, and trying to cheer up her brother, the tsakarem went to sleep and foresaw something that was going to be everchanging.

a mysterious woman emerging out of the ocean, eclipse at its fullest, an island of rocks in the background. the seer sees it from the other person’s point of view. as the woman got closer, the seer could hear beads and the outline of curly hair. the vision ending before seeing the woman’s face.

her mother woke her up, once again. “tanhi, titxen si.” her mother urged. the young healer got up immediately, startling her mother. “i must get ready quickly, the tsahik and i are going to the tree of souls.” the tsakarem informed. while she was eating a fruit and gathering what she needed for the day, her mother was searching for her rider’s mask. “here you go, ‘itetsyip, remember you can never be too careful.” meyki said, handing her daughter the mask. the mask is intricately made, leather weaved and dyed purple, a color her mother had identified her with since childhood and that she grew to love. the visor having a bone or tooth in the middle, she didn’t remember. “go on, tanhi.” her mother urged. “kiyevame, sa’nu, taronyutsyip.” the tsakarem said, rushing to meet the tsahik. rushing to the matriarch’s tent was as difficult as putting on her ionar. the high priestess was already waiting outside her tent for her apprentice. “oel ngati kameie, tsahik.” the apprentice greeted, bringing down two fingers toward her teacher. the matriarch nodded in acknowledgement. “are you ready to go to vitraya ramunong?” the matriarch asked. putting on her ionar, the tsakarem responded, “as ready as i will ever be.” confidence in her response. “lead the way ‘evenge.” the high priestess responded. the girl was speechless, the tsahik wanted her to lead the way to the tree of souls. as they began walking to the edge of high camp, the tsakarem said. “let’s call the ikran.” finally arriving at the edge, the tsakarem made a sound to call her ikran. suddenly a medium-sized gray colored ikran appeared, it had blue and black accents on its wings and torso. “tam tam, kxamtxon.” the apprentice said, comforting her ikran. making tsaheylu, the ikran stopped moving around and trying to hit the rider. the apprentice waited for her teacher to call her mount. all of a sudden the matriarch made a screeching noise and a red ikran came flying and landed in front of the matriarch. “kaltxi, tskxevi.” the matriarch greeted. both healers mounted their ikran and started making their way to the sacred site.

the view from above always amazed the tsakarem, the daylight giving an ethereal look to the rock arches surrounding the ancient tree. landing in the ground close to rocks in the outskirts of the site, the teacher and apprentice dismounted their ikran and made their way to sit down under the tendrils. as they made their way to the tree, the matriarch informed her apprentice. “listening to the will of eywa does not come to a person easily, ‘evenge.” then went on to continue, “you must first listen to yourself to hear the great mother.” the young healer was puzzled, what did her teacher mean?, though it was self-explanatory, it was also vague.

entrapped in her thoughts, the tsakarem noticed that they were at the base of the tree. “sit down, ‘evenge, we have a long day ahead of us.” this was the second time the tsahik had told her that, though comforting it made the young girl worried, were all her days going to be like this? not that she was complaining, she was thankful and honored to be tsakarem but it left her with worries and questions of her own. sitting down and grabbing her kuru, the apprentice took a deep breath before grabbing tendrils from the tree and connecting to the great mother. “you have nothing to be afraid of, ‘evenge.” the matriarch reassured. the young girl looked up to the magnificent tree to see atokirina coming down toward her. seeing the seeds going to land over her head and one coming close to her cheek as if comforting her and telling her to not be afraid of what may come. reaching behind to grab her queue and revealing the pink tendrils, the tsakarem connected to the tree of souls.

hearing murmurs, children laughing, songs being sung. a wave of comfort swept the young girl, a smile etched across her cheeks. the matriarch watched with a smile on her face, na'vi seeing the beauty of the great mother in the forest they called home. “‘evenge.” the high priestess called, snapping the apprentice out of her trance of listening to the voices of their ancestors. “take a deep breath, and focus on finding your own voice within the great mother.” mo’at instructed. the apprentice took a deep breath and closed her eyes, to try and find her own voice.

emptying her mind was quite the task, but she managed to achieve it after a few minutes of trying not to think. managing to imagine the ayram alusìng, all of a sudden hearing two voices she recognized as her own and her friend kiri’s. “come on, palulukantsyip. they are waiting for us.” her friend urged, using the nickname given to her when they were children. she recognized the day when this had happened, kiri had invited her to have dinner with her family. the tsakarem scared as she was going to be eating with the olo’eyktan’s family. when they were going to enter the tent, all of a sudden the scenery changed and she was met with the ocean. ‘i’m back with the metkayina.’ the seer thought.

she saw her friends sitting in a circle with the olo’eyktan’s children. lo’ak was having trouble controlling his breathing, the pretty teal na’vi putting her hands on his stomach to feel how he was breathing. “lo’ak, your heartbeat is fast.” she said. “sorry.” he responded. it was obvious he was flustered, it brought a giggle to the seer’s mouth. then the scenery changed again, lo’ak and the pretty teal na’vi sitting next to each other, lo’ak still trying to improve his breathing. “the way of water has no beginning and no end. the sea is around you and in you. the sea is your home before your birth and after your death. our hearts beat in the womb of the world. our breath burns in the shadows of the deep. the sea gives and the sea takes. water connects all things, life to death. darkness to light.” the girl recited. the seer saw the girl throw a shell for lo’ak to catch, him diving underwater to retrieve it, a few minutes passed and he emerged from under the water. “i got it! tsireya!” he exclaimed. "you did it!" she responded.

tsireya, the seer now had a face to the name.

the tsakarem opened her eyes abruptly, not expecting the vision to end suddenly. adjusting her eyes to the light of the forest’s sun. the matriarch was already looking at her with a knowing look. “what did you see?” the matriarch asked. the tsakarem blinked and opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. the apprentice could not find the right words to tell her teacher. “what did you see, ‘evenge?” the matriarch pressed. “i saw lo’ak and tsireya together, she was teaching him to properly breathe and the ways of metkayina.” “who is tsireya?” the matriarch asked. “she is the daughter of olo’eyktan and tsahik. she also recited the ways of metkayina, ‘the way of water has no beginning and no end. the sea is around you and in you. the sea is your home before your birth and after your death. our hearts beat in the womb of the world. our breath burns in the shadows of the deep. the sea gives and the sea takes. water connects all things, life to death. darkness to light’.” the apprentice responded. “he truly is his father’s son.” the matriarch reasoned. silence fell over them, the seer trying to assimilate to all that she had seen. “‘evenge, i would like to tell you a story.” the matriarch said. the tsakarem listened intently, interested in hearing what the high priestess had to say.

"there was once this outcast, he was wandering the forest like a lost child, paranoid to his surroundings. the tsakarem had been in training moments before she found him, hiding behind leaves, the outcast managed to not see her. she was planning to kill him, drawing her bow going to deliver the killing blow, when suddenly an atokirina lands on the tip of her arrow, giving the tsakarem a sign to not hurt the uniltiranyu.” the matriarch told. the apprentice scrunched her face in confusion but said nothing and continued listening. “as eclipse settled on the forests, the uniltiranyu was getting desperate as he didn’t know what was lurking in the shadows. multiple nantangs circled him like prey to attack him.” the matriarch continued. the tsakarem already knew who this story was about, tsyeyk suli and neytiri te tskaha mo’at’ite.

“karyu, i know their story, but if i make a guess and ask you, are you trying to get me to realize how their stories have similarities?” the apprentice asked. “kanu ‘evenge.” the matriarch said with a smile on her face. the tsakarem was confused, the tsahik was so obvious in handling some matters that she was concerned for past apprentices. “we must have another chosen one in our hands ‘evenge, nothing good can come from lo’ak bonding with an outcast and mating with the olo’eyktan’s daughter.” mo’at said, referencing the past vision. that vision had shook the young girl to her core, a family taken away from their home, a son taken from his parents, a brother taken from his siblings, a friend taken because of the sky people, the seer knew she couldn’t change the outcome but if she were to bargain with the great mother, she would fight to bring neteyam back.

“we must go back, you have much to learn.” the matriarch said, standing up from the sacred tree. the apprentice snapped back from her ever imaginative and talkative mind. disconnecting her kuru and standing up from the sacred tree to follow her teacher. once in step with the high priestess, the apprentice asked, “what else am i going to learn?” it was an innocent question to ask but the young girl didn’t anticipate the answer she was going to receive. “‘evenge, has your mother not told you?” the apprentice shook her head, the matriarch sighed and muttered underneath her breath before responding. “you are going to learn everything that there is to healing, listening to the will of eywa, performing rituals, especially uniltaron and learning to coexist with the future olo'eyktan in training." the matriarch said. "olo'eyktan in training?" the apprentice asked aloud. “it is only a matter of time before tarsem chooses his successor, who will learn everything there is to be a leader to the people.” the tsakarem had heard about the custom, the leaders choose a young na’vi to train for the rest of their lives, as to when the time comes they can assume responsibility. “i am sure the council of elders are going to pressure him to choose an apprentice.” the matriarch reasoned.

the council of elders, of which her grandparents were a part of. ingma te ulua amha’ite and ruwe te meknu zäve'itan, from what she had heard from listening to her parents' conversation, they were promised to each other, they grew to love each other and had their first and only son, rämun. sempu had a sister, but she had the ‘privilege’ to be promised to one of the warriors of one of the neighboring clans; she didn’t know any more details.

"keep up, ‘evenge, the people are not going to appreciate an aloof tsakarem." mo'at said, ready to call the ikran to go back to high camp. the apprentice had noticed the matriarch was already with her ikran. the majestic red of the creature entranced the tsakarem, orange accents all around the creature's body, reminiscent of toruk. calling kxamtxon, the tsakarem lowered her ionar and started the way to the place they called home.

***

as they arrived at the tent, the two healers noticed tarsem and a boy with a battleband around his waist. as they got closer, the tsakarem distinguished the boy’s features and recognized him as vìsawe. from what she has heard about him is that since the time he became one of the people, he has become distinguished for his tracking and teaching skills, becoming a prolific hunter, bringing plenty of creatures from every hunt he went on.

“tsahik, i would like to present to you vìsawe te tsrirke rikwu'itan, i will be training him to be my successor when the time comes.” tarsem says, hurriedly. vìsawe greets the tsahik and looks at the tsakarem in curiosity. “for today, i thought it would be for the best if he learned with you and the tsakarem.” vìsawe widens his eyes, this beautiful girl, in front of him was tsakarem, her curly hair which reached just past her shoulders, amber eyes that seemed almost green in the darkness of high camp. “of course, olo’eyktan. i will teach anything that he may need to know.” the matriarch responded. tarsem smiled and said goodbye to go tend to his other duties. vìsawe stepped to the side for the tsahik to enter. a small smile made its way to the matriarch’s face, the gesture reminding her of another young warrior selected to be the next olo’eyktan.

after her teacher stepped into the tent, the apprentice followed suit, not batting an eye to the warrior who had made a kind gesture. that was expected of any young warrior, the tsakarem thought, he did not need any more compliment to his ego, but then again but what if he just did it out of kindness. vìsawe frowned, he wanted to impress the pretty girl who just happened to be tsakarem, he wanted her to see that he could be a worthy olo’eyktan to her tsahik. entering the tent, vìsawe was overwhelmed by the smell of herbs, salves and fire that enveloped the tent. he saw the tsakarem take a seat in front of the fire grinding herbs and with leaves to her side, which he inferred were to be folded after grinding the herbs. he instinctively took a seat at her side and started talking to her. “what is your name?” he cringed to himself, that was such an awkward question to ask but he wanted to know. “y/n te meknu meyki’ite.” she responded. he nodded and asked another question. “would you like some help with the leaves?” he asked, pointing at them. the tsakarem nodded in delight and smiled at him, he smiled in return.

he had a pretty smile.

he nodded in acknowledgement, taking on the duty. he grabbed each leaf gently and seeing the stems for him to fold to make it easier for y/n to grind them. she lightly laughed at his antics, shaking her head and going back to her assignment. he had never heard a sound so heavenly and her smile was even better.

the tsakarem felt herself get warm and knew her cheeks were a deep shade of indigo, she hoped the fire was able to provide her an excuse. he grabbed the leaves from her side and was about to fold them before being stopped. “no! what are you doing?” the tsakarem exclaimed. “what am i doing wrong?” vìsawe asked, worriedly. “you are not supposed to fold them, taronyu, you are supposed to fold them and tear them. that will make it easier for me to grind them.” she instructed.

word bank:

kaltxi - hello

titxen si - to wake, to waken, wake up

ionar - banshee rider visor

kxamtxon - midnight

tsaheylu - bond (neural connection)

tskxevi - pebble, small stone polished smooth by natural forces

atokirina - seeds of the great tree

ayram alusìng - floating mountains; hallelujah mountains

palulukantsyip - cat (earth animal); lit. little palulukan

uniltiranyu - dreamwalker

nantangs - viperwolf

kanu ‘evenge - smart girl

uniltaron - dream hunt

toruk - great leonopteryx, last shadow

taronyu - hunter

a/n: finally!! the third part of seer. i hope you guys enjoyed! tell me what you think! it is definitely getting juicy! stay tuned! vìsawe is my oc!!

#seer.#miranda writes #avatar (2009)#avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar fan fic #atwow imagines #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #loak x reader #jake sully x reader #moat avatar

23 notes · View notes

seapopsworld · 2 months

Text

I’m starting to pass out! yes!

hi I start talking to someone and I wake up in mid sentence sometimes I can finish what I was saying and sometimes I’m rambling on via outspoken speech but it’s incoherent to me; or I have no idea what was said or spoken about while passing out. For example Maybe we had been taking bout TV or a tv show episode and I pass out but wake up before the conversation is over and have no clue why I’m saying what I’m saying out loud and to an empty house or room. This conversation was not happening on or in this default world.

So if you happen to be a person or peoples I am having these conversation with then please people, please, keep me posted on what the fuck I was saying! If i upset you, stop being a fucking PC person and lighten up and listen up geez, I usually have an interesting unique perspective on things, I’ve been told this by people, I probably misunderstood something and to not look foolish I came up with something clever but not really enlighten like not like trying to make us all laugh ovah what some may perceive as heavy, that back fires and I come across as uncaring and seemingly someone who seems to like to upset people, saying the wrong thing at the right time is what I seem to be having a conversation about but with who and am I just dreaming this banter. Please answer.‘answer like the best way? Calling talking or actually face to face. Miss your face miss yours more.

Arghhh, ahhh, damn. It

I think to myself I need a hug so I attempt to hug myself, it’s a nice hug, then I start singing some lines from a techno track and I’m all like that’s it that’s all: time for more sleep. Shit I might miss the eclipse. “Darkness is the absence of light” music is again filling my head, conversation ovah, I’m starting to think about booty house and two live crew. Freedom of speech is our right and anything we do with our bodies should also be on us to decide. Telling people they can’t choose how they want or live because they are choosing some path in life you believe or think or have been told is wrong. Thanks honey bitch cunt dike whore for spreading the rights you have and I have of freedom of speech; I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion so take it and put it where you hurt and try and heal your broken ugly nosey disgusting human being self from the inside out or else.

“Or else what” the bitch snaps back at me!

Or else you are going to be a very miserable human being in the future, people like you and your thinking are becoming less the majority actually your more likely the minority these days. Anyway it’s nice to speak to you again miss Brady! Maybe we should just stick with fighting the fun laws cause guns killed people and those guns kill students, kill kids guns don’t have a side they fucking will kill us all if they so called could and as much as I believe worlds can kill so as they heal the sick.

Yeah I don’t take my own advice either even if it’s good advice, I usually test it’s advice on others first, see if it worked out for them, the advice I may have given not my own but yeah, so people made money from it, not I! Others. So I started to fight off people this time and I started tossing punches and running after those after hours I was conversing with but my conversation with them was gone and I don’t recall saying much besides what I’d just yelled or screamed. I was rocking back and forth in my chair at work and I passed out for few seconds while leaning forward and then opened my eyes as I was rocking forward so that I lost balance and then I felt the sensation of jumping out a perfectly good plane to skydive, like having lost one’s balance but for a long very fast falling sensation but I was able to not hit the ground face first but it was close. “ stop talking to me this way” I just briefly passed out and woke saying this while also my hands and arms started to flair and fly like a these long skinny arms do while talking but this was in a way a unconscious self defense cause I guess I didn’t like what they where saying to me whoever I was talking to in this passed out moment dream or are these moments where one connects with others and is able to astral project oneself into another persons place and is it’s this current year and current time line or is it another time another being on another planet in another universe in another galaxy. And are they into pegging? But not into LGBTQ rights to love and hug and fuck who they want to oxoxo.

Okay I hope you enjoyed this short story of a typical evening in my current life.

Peace, good night, morning whatever just hope the pillow don’t bite back!

#writing #stories #storytelling #you love penis #poetry #playgirl #eclipse #passing out #i don’t get no sleep #bookie baby #maybe I’ll correct words and sentences later

2 notes · View notes

gwenbrightly · 2 months

Text

(Re)Building the Future Chapter 7

Cassie hangs her head over the bucket, groaning miserably and trying to ignore the way her body feels.

“I hate everything,” she mutters, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of puke. Someone holds a bottle of water to her mouth. It isn’t particularly cold, but she doesn’t care. She swishes a little bit of water, then spits it out before greedily drinking the rest of it. When was the last time she drank something? Trying to remember makes Cassie dizzy. She sinks back against something cushiony.

“Feeling better?” Someone asks her. She tries to nod, but the effort sends a wave of pain stabbing through her head.

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” someone else says, “you’re gonna make yourself sick again.”

“What…” Cassie blinks, her vision slowly becoming less blurry. Roxy is kneeling next to her. Are they in the Daycare? “What happened?”

“Well, that’s a loaded question,” Roxy mutters, frowning. Cassie tries to sit up, but Roxy motions for her to stop.

“I remember coming here to try to find Gregory… he, um, told me to meet him here, but then he wasn’t waiting like he said he’d be…”

“I’ve been wondering what you were doing here. What else do you remember?” Roxy asks patiently. She’s had her own share of memory struggles. Trying to force things usually doesn’t help.

“Well, I kept looking and looking, and there was a Mask Bot and a weird blue bunny that kept showing up!” Cassie recalls. It’s starting to come back to her. “Gregory said he was trapped under the sinkhole and that I had to turn off all the Security Nodes to get him out. I must have done that, next.”

“Oh, you definitely did,” Roxy tells her, shuddering as she remembers the sensation of being deactivated.

“Oh my gosh - that’s right! I… I deactivated you! Are you okay?” Cassie tilts her head towards the animatronic wolf. What if she’s angry with me, she worries. Roxy seems fine, though the oversized sunglasses are definitely new.

“Roxy’s fine,” Helpy announces, inserting himself into the conversation, “If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t have received so many death threats today!”

“I’m more worried about you, kid,” Roxy says in a tone that makes it clear that she’s rolling her eyes, even if no one can see it.

“Why?” Cassie doesn’t understand why Roxy is so worried. She’s puked plenty of times before.

“Well…” Roxy starts.

“We have some good news and some bad news, New Friend,” Eclipse says, sitting himself down next to Roxy.

“There was… an accident after you went down into the sinkhole,” Roxy tells her gently. Flashes of a creature with milky white eyes and Gregory’s voice chasing her fill Cassie’s memory.

“What was that thing?”

“Something that should never have been allowed to stay here,” Roxy replies bitterly. “You made it to the elevator - you should have been safe!”

“The elevator…” Cassie repeats, “oh…”

It all comes back to her - getting on the elevator and thinking she was being rescued, Gregory telling her they couldn’t risk her being followed, the elevator plummeting while she screamed until her throat was raw, then… nothing. Gregory, how could you?! Oh, she wishes she didn’t remember. The betrayal hurts.

“Yeah…” Roxy says softly.

“The good news is you’re alive, and you’re going to be just fine,” Eclipse tells Cassie.

“The bad news is it cost you an arm and a leg!” Helpy cuts in, making a badum tish sound effect. Roxy and Eclipse both glare furiously at his monitor.

“What Helpy means to say,” Roxy begins gently, “is that you were very badly injured when I pulled you from the elevator wreckage and we had to… um… we tried. We really tried, but you were a mess - you were losing so much blood - we had to… there was nothing else we could do - I failed you… I am so, so sorry…”

Cassie stares down at her body, trying to make sense of what Roxy is saying. Failed her! How?

It takes her several pain-filled tries to move her right arm into view. It feels… heavier than usual. And… off somehow. Like it’s there, but not there at the same time. It won’t obey her. And it burns.

“Oh, wow,” she whispers numbly. Her arm is gone. Gone and replaced by a shiny metallic one that feels all wrong. No one says anything. Why aren’t they saying anything? Cassie’s gaze travels downwards. A blanket half covers her legs, but she can tell that one of them isn’t quite right… “Oh, wow…” she says again. “I-I don’t-” her voice cracks. This is all too much for her. Please say something, she begs the others silently. She needs someone to tell her it’s all going to be okay.

“Cassie…” Roxy trails off. She reaches out to stroke the girl's head. She has never been the best at comforting children, but she’s ready to try for Cassie’s sake.

Unable to stand it any longer, Cassie pulls the animatronic into a fierce hug. She sobs as the movement causes her arm to rebel and pain shoots through her shoulder. She sobs as the tears begin to flow freely. She sobs as they run down her face and into her wounds, causing everything to start stinging, and making sob even harder. She sobs as Roxy and Eclipse stare at each other, neither knowing what to do or say to comfort her.

Roxy holds her for a long time, rocking back and forth. What can she possibly say that will make any of this better? Nothing. There’s not a single thing that can fix this. If only Roxy had been a little faster, a little smarter. Then maybe Cassie wouldn’t be so broken. It’s no wonder Fazbear Entertainment gave up on her. She failed the night of the earthquake, and she failed tonight, too.

/////

MXES may not be able to speak, but he is very much still able to show his displeasure when Gregory reboots the security system in the old restaurant hidden in the sinkhole. He glares fiercely at Gregory the second he’s done, as if it’s Gregory’s fault he got shut down temporarily. Which, really, it’s not. And Gregory does try to explain this to the computer program.

“Look, I know you’re angry,” he says. MXES’ glare intensifies. “Yeah, yeah. Being deactivated sucks. But what are you angry at me for? I wasn’t even here!”

“We know you did your very best! You really are an important part of the Pizzaplex’s security system,” Freddy adds, hoping a compliment or two might placate the angry digital hare.

“And now that you’re back online, everything should go back to normal!” Gregory continues encouragingly. MXES continues to glare at the trio. What is his deal? Man, he did not mean to program this thing to have so many attitude issues…

“The security nodes haven’t been reactivated,” Vanessa points out. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

MXES’ glare softens slightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she decides, “don’t worry - we’ll take care of that as soon as we have a chance.”

“Yeah!” Gregory agrees, going over to the backpack in the corner of the room. “We can even use this as the first one.”

MXES nods furiously. He seems to like this plan. Maybe if they do one or two nodes now, he’ll stop being so salty and chill a little instead of plotting their murders.

Vanessa pulls a spare Faz Wrench out of her backpack. It’s a little more difficult to set up the node program without a mask to help her see things virtually, but she manages to figure things out eventually.

“Happy now?” Gregory asks MXES when Vanessa is finished. The hare gives a slight nod, then stares sadly at the now unblocked door that leads deeper into the sinkhole’s cavernous cave system. Gregory wonders how Cassie managed to get through the cement barrier that should have blocked her way.

“We’re going to find her,” He assures the security program. “And make sure that It is taken care of. Whatever it takes.”

MXES gives him a look that clearly translates to ‘you'd better’.

Gregory gulps as he approaches the door. He really doesn’t like it down here as it is (thanks Glitchtrap!). Maybe he and Cassie can bond over shared trauma after this. If they find her. If she’s even still… Please, Cassie, hang on just a little longer…

“So, uh, what’s the plan if we run into It?” He asks the others, trailing behind them down the dirt passageway. He tries to ignore the creepy carnival costumes and cutouts they pass. (Where did they come from, anyway?)

“I guess we’ll get to see if Corporate was right about animatronics being susceptible to tasers,” Vanessa tells him. She stops walking long enough to pull something out of her backpack. Gregory stares in awe. She’s starting to remind him of Mary Poppins.

Freddy, on the other hand, is horrified.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Vanessa complains, “it’s not like I’ve actually tested it on anyone…” She considered all of the animatronics to be her friends when was working as a security guard for the Pizzaplex. Even Vanny wouldn’t stoop so low; they were more valuable to her fully functional.

“I cannot believe that Fazbear Entertainment would encourage these kinds of measures!” Freddy exclaims, still disgruntled.

“Freddy, you do realize that Fazbear Entertainment has done far worse than authorizing their security guards to carry tasers - right?” Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“Fazbear Entertainment sure sucks, but I, for one, am glad we have something we can use to defend ourselves if we run into a thing with a history of ripping people limb from limb,” Gregory comments. No one can disagree with this statement.

They continue their journey, following the same route they relayed to Cassie earlier in the day. The underground tunnels would be kinda cool if not for the murderous animatronic potentially stalking them. There’s all sorts of twists and turns that probably lead someplace interesting (or maybe deeply disturbing?). There’s weird glowing crystals and mushrooms. Even a small lake, though the water is a gross rusty color that isn’t particularly inviting.

As they approach more ruins of some long forgotten building, they hear banging. Gregory slows down, lingering behind his companions. They’re getting awfully close to the elevator Cassie was supposed to use to escape… is It trying to destroy evidence of its crimes against humanity or something? He has no idea what the bot looks like. How will he know if they’re in danger?

“Help me!” A voice - Gregory’s voice - calls, “I’m trapped! It’s so dark and lonely…”

“I hate this so much,” the real Gregory says with a shudder. Hearing his voice be used by someone else is even more disturbing in person. He considers staying where he is and letting Freddy and Vanessa deal with this on their own, but he doubts that would be any safer.

“Trust me, I hate it too,” Vanessa tells him. She grips her taser fiercely. Whatever happens next, she’ll be ready.

The trio rounds the corner, ready for (what will probably be a very unfair) battle.

“Chaaaarge!” Gregory can’t help but yell. He clutches a rock he (nearly tripped over) found earlier and tries to look intimidating. The battle cry ultimately turns out to be unnecessary, however. It isn’t running about freely, ready to cause more carnage. Instead, the animatronic has somehow gotten itself trapped inside of a little room that kinda reminds Gregory of the containment rooms the Pizzaplex has in Parts and Service.

“Let me out of here!” the thing cries out, banging on the door. Everyone stares at it.

“How…” Vanessa doesn’t even know where to start. “How did you get in there? What the heck is going on?”

“The wolf lady trapped me,” It says, still sounding uncomfortably like Gregory, “she trapped me and then she took my eyes!”

“Good for her!” Vanessa snaps back before she can fully process this revelation. She’s always admired Roxy’s spunk.

“Roxy was here?” Freddy questions, surprised. He assumed she stayed powered down after Cassie shut her off. Clearly that is incorrect. He glances about the area, trying to find signs that Roxy has truly been here. Someone had to have locked It in that room. If this were a trap, they would likely have been attacked by now.

“Yes! Didn’t you hear me?” It pouts, “she trapped me in here and took my eyes! Now I can’t see…”

“Look, you jerk, could you stop using my voice for five seconds? It’s creepy.” Gregory demands. He’s anything but sympathetic to It’s plight. He’s heard what this thing is capable of, no matter how innocent it wants to act right now.

“But-but I’m Gregory!” The bot insists.

“No. You’re not. I am!” Gregory argues back. Okay, this is just stupid.

“But-”

“Shut up already!”

“There is… a concerning amount of blood, but it does not appear that Cassie is still here,” Freddy interrupts, examining the ruined elevator.

Temporarily forgetting his argument with It, Gregory races over to see for himself. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that Cassie’s horribly mangled body isn’t lying at the bottom of the shaft like he expected it to be. If she’s out there somewhere, still alive, she’s gotta be in rough shape. Gregory is no doctor, but he’s pretty sure people don’t just walk away from something like this.

“If she’s not here… then where is she?” Vanessa wonders. “There’s no way she got out of here on her own…”

“She took her and now I’m all alone… I just wanted someone to play with!” It complains.

“Your idea of play usually ends with someone dying,” Vanessa points out. It huffs, unhappy with her comment. She doesn’t care; there are more pressing things to worry about. If Roxy rescued Cassie from the elevator’s wreckage, where did she take her afterwards?

“Well,” Freddy says, backing away from the elevator shaft (and taking Gregory with him), “we may as well return to the surface and try to locate Roxanne.”

The others nod in agreement. There’s no point sticking around here any longer than is necessary. Not if Cassie’s not here.

“At least let me out before you go!” It begs them, banging on the door one last time.

Vanessa considers using her taser on It just to get it to shut up for a bit. She’s more than a little disappointed she hasn’t had an excuse to use the darn thing yet.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” Freddy tells her, knowing exactly what she is thinking. He, too, is quite annoyed by the creature, but he cannot bring himself to encourage tasing another animatronic like himself. Even if said animatronic has a rather high body count.

#myfics #fnaf sb ruin #fnaf fanfiction #roxanne wolf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at Freddy’s fanfiction #fnaf gregory #freddy fazbear #fnaf vanessa #the mimic #cyborg Cassie #angst #wheeeee

6 notes · View notes

respectthepetty · 1 year

Text

609 Bedtime Story: Ep. 2 - KH Edition

Theories from episode 1

Two things before I get into the theories: 1) These opening credits and the visuals in general are pretty amazing, and 2) why is Mum telling EVERYONE about this?! Man does not know how to keep a secret!

Timeline

Vee thinks Mum is seeing flashbacks, but they are flash forwards in reverse!

I thought the timeline was working in reverse from Mum's perspective, and that seems to be right. The last episode began on November 1st and ended with Dew being shot on the 24th. [The series began on the 25th - big brain energy, Golf!]. Mum wakes up at 1:05, so he was in the fantasy world for one hour. Dew dies sometime between 12:30-1.

The blood stain shirt encounter happened on the 23rd. When Mum falls asleep, it’s 12:45, and he woke back up at 12:50, being there only five minutes.

This episode starts around the 7th and ends the 22nd.

Mum goes to sleep on the 7th at 11:55, so he should wake back up in the next episode at 1 am on the 8th.

When he goes to sleep, he meets Dew on the 22nd during the meteor shower, so the next time they meet in the fantasy world, it will be the 21st for Dew.

We are quickly moving to the "middle" date if two days are covered each episode, so halfway through the show, we might switch to Dew’s perspective, perhaps episode six when it's Dew's November 14th and Mum's November 15th around midnight.

Theory #0 – There is an unedited version

Did I blank out and miss the discussion about Jake being a bad friend and cheating his own family’s company? Because if not, then there has to be uncut versions of these episodes OR we will see these scenes when we get Dew's perspective. The first episode was short, and this one skipped over a scene or something.

Theory #1 – Mum is dying

Mum is STILL sick, which Vee points out several times, and Mint makes this comment which refers back to the flash forwards we saw in episode one of her crying:

The first time Mum sees Dew this episode, Dew is crying and has blood on his shirt. Dew looks at Mum as if confused. In the previous episode, Dew was shocked to see Mum and told Mum he loves him, so since the timeline is going in reverse, Dew might have witnessed Mum die, which might be why Dew has blood on his shirt on the 23rd.

Or why he panics when Mum tries to leave the apartment

We were shown Mum smoking again, and Ton comments on how Mum doesn't look well, but during their conversation, Ton states that Mum's heart must want this fantasy world with Dew. Then, Mum reflects on the comment:

Once again, Dew has blood on his shirt the 23rd, and he gets shot in what appears to be in the heart, soooo theory in a theory, will they share a heart?!

Or will Dew kill the mysterious Jake over something work related, and that’s whose blood is on his shirt, so whoever kills Dew is related to work as well. Why is he smiling like that when he says this?!

Theory #2 – Dew is Mint’s boyfriend

Nothing this episode except Mint was up working late when she called Mum, and Dew already seems like a workaholic. Does she work for Dew or do they collaborate on work-related projects?

Theory #3 – Games knows something

Nothing too suspicious this episode except Games pranking Mum with the Ouija board, but it’s still a vibe. I don’t trust him. He is too quick to declare his love for Vee, so is he from the parallel world? It’s Namo all over again (but in my defense, The Eclipse's Namo DID burn the fliers, so I was right about that!)

Theory #4 – They exist in each other’s world but are different

Mum had flash forwards again this episode before falling asleep and slipping into the fantasy world.

We see him walking into his bar and Dew being there, BUT based on how the first pair of flash forwards appeared, I don't think these scenes show them at the bar at the same time. Dew being there will happen BEFORE Mum walks in so maybe at different times. We see the jellyfish again from their upcoming aquarium trip (might that be the halfway point?), and end with the scene that happened before Mum went home with Games asking "How do you feel? Do you like it or not?" about sleeping with Dew.

Obviously, some version of Dew does exist in Mum's world, but in Dew's fantasy world, Mum isn’t visible, so maybe this proves that two versions of them can’t exist at once.

Plus, fantasy Dew's hair is split, he wears glasses, and he seems more uptight, while the flash forward of Mum's-world Dew has his hair different, he has no glasses, and he seems more relaxed.

Theory Recap

Theories proven - 0

Theories squashed - 0

Questions answered - The timeline theory seems strong, but I have more questions about everything else now.

#609 bedtime story #kimlock holmes is on the case #dew x mum #episode 2 #I have theories for days

18 notes · View notes

antisociallilbrat · 1 year

Text

Even When The Sun Rises, Don't Wake Me Chp. 7

Read on Ao3

Chp. 6

Chp. 8

A/N: Welcome back, I offer you this monster of a chapter. This chapter is ALMOST 8k Going back to my 2k - 3k chapters after this

Also Mike and Bill have a conversation in the beginning and part of it is stenbrough related but the other half Bill shines some light on Mike's problems with Max. Also Bill is a cheeky bastard.

he news said to brace down for the long haul as the snowstorm would be lingering. This news brought nothing but groans to Mike's college home.

It was day four of the snowstorm now and the snow was still piling up outside. It was almost to his waist now. Thankfully the snow did seem to at least be thinning out as the snow mounds outside weren’t growing in height as quickly as they had been.

The power has been coming and going and while it’s on right now, Mike fears for when it’ll go out again. Everyone has been dressing in multiple layers to keep warm. Their apartment has this old fireplace that they were all surprised, and relieved, to see that the chimney chute was clear. Bill had bought some shoty firewood from a gas station one time, about a month ago, planning to try it out. This was before they knew the chimney was clear and Derek had chastised Bill to not even think about it.

Now Mike is just happy for Bill’s ignorance because he kept the wood hidden in his closet. Very convenient for their current situation.

Emily, Bill, and he have made a little fortress in the living room. Bill dragged out his mattress so that he and Mike could share it. Emily has taken over the couch. They pass time by playing card games and munching on Derek’s snacks, trying to bare through the harsh cold.

In these past three days, Mike has seen Max two times.

The first time was the morning of the second day when she came out to get some crackers and bottled water. Her skin was flushed and she looked like she was sick. He was on Bill’s mattress, pretending to be asleep. Not wanting a repeat of the previous night he let her be.

Later that day they all could hear retching sounds coming from his and Bill’s bathroom. Max allowed Emily to come in and check on her. When Emily came back out she told him that Max has caught a stomach bug. She didn’t look like she believed it, but he was not about to tell her that Max was sick because the drugs were working their way out of her system.

The next time he saw her was last night. She had snuck out of his room once again thinking that everyone had gone to bed. Mike had been asleep until the nightmares awoke him. The Mindflayer rampaging through Starcourt, hold your breath don’t let it get El or Will! He was sitting against the couch, Bill half flung on him, twitching in his sleep.

Max had pitter-pattered over to the fridge, the light revealing something that made him wish he was still asleep. Last time she was flushed and yet this time she looked like a corpse. Dark circles ragged under her eyes and her face resembled more of a skeleton’s. His sweater hung off her, eclipsing her body. Is it possible to lose that much weight in days?

Again, he said nothing. Not even when she turned away from the fridge, arms full of string cheese and deli meat, and their eyes met. She didn’t appear surprised to see him awake and for a moment they just stared at each other. It felt like he should have said something but he couldn’t bring himself to. What was there to say? They both are in a shit situation, her more than him, and at that moment it felt like there was nothing he could do to make it better. She remained quiet as well and eventually made her way back to his bedroom. He heard the soft click of the lock. Despondency radiated through his whole being as it did.

The days were starting to run together. His sanity was running out and honestly, he wanted his room back. Ha, imagine him going to the door, pounding on it, and demanding that Max give it back to him! The chaos that would follow! For fuck’s sake he’s been reduced to wearing Bill’s clothes!

Yet, a small part of him is relieved his is happening. He had no idea how he was going to get Max to detox and honestly hadn’t planned on attempting that for a while. Ultimately quitting drugs was going to have to be her choice but as the circumstances are, she doesn’t have one.

Bill’s liquor and weed are in his room and Max hasn’t thought to ask for some yet. Maybe he can get Bill to lie, and say that he’s out. Maybe Bill wouldn’t question that request from Mike but that would mean he gave Bill enough pieces to put the puzzle that is Max together.

Her body looks ragged from the detox, maybe he can convince her that she doesn’t have to put herself through this again. That this snowstorm is a miracle from God or the universe or whatever. Why not just quit now that she's already gone through the detox? No need to shoot up again. Guide her stubborn ass into making the right choice, quitting now. Get her to a NA meeting.

Of course, this would require talking to her first. A feat he doesn’t feel up to right now.

Because for her to quit, he has to figure out why she started in the first place. How did the Max he knew get started on heroin? How did she let herself sink that low? They went through the trauma of the upside down together and yet he’s never felt the need to run away from it through the means of dangerously numbing himself.

He has a nagging feeling that the answer lies with Billy. Deep in his grave. With the worms and maggots.

There’s a sense of guilt too. The Party pretty much just moved on after Starcourt. It wasn’t their brother that was lost. They kinda all just left her in the dust. Fuck, he’s angry with himself. Yes, he and Max weren’t that close but how could he not have reached out? Someone who he had risked his life for and who did the same? He’s ashamed of himself and honestly, the whole Party should be too. They abandoned her.

Tomorrow he’ll talk to her, whether she wants to or not. He’s abandoning her now by not doing so and he’s just letting the past repeat itself. Never again.

It’s too late to do so now and he’s really hoping she’s managing to get some sleep. She needs it. He himself can't sleep, and sits up against the couch yet again. His mind too busy thinking of every way Max is going to get herself killed.

“What are you th-thinking about so hard?” Bill breaks him out of his stupor. He didn’t know he was awake.

Mike rolls his eyes, “Go back to sleep asshole and go back to your side of the bed you hog,” he jostles him from where Bill had been creeping towards him.

Bill shakes his head against the pillow, “Can’t.”

“Can’t go back to sleep or can’t sleep on your own damn side?”

“Yes.”

Mike sighs, “You're impossible you know?”

Bill smiles as he flings himself on top of him to snuggle him, his head now in Mike’s lap, clinging to him in an iron grip, “Maybe but you luh-love me.”

“Pfff as if. You’re an idiot who never learned the meaning of personal space,” he chastises.

“I like to love on my fruh-friends. Deal ww-with it jjerkface,” he pinches his thigh.

Mike pinches him back in the neck, Bill letting out an “ack!” before he reminds him to be quiet. Emily is asleep on the couch right behind him. They fall into a comfortable silence.

This is familiar. Him and Bill being awake in the living room, not talking but enjoying each other’s presence. Once Mike’s nightmares wake him up there’s no going back to sleep. He has a working theory that Bill has insomnia but he’s never asked. They just deal with the long nights together.

Bill shuffles off of him, not before elbowing him in the stomach on purpose accidently, to tend to the dying fire. They’re almost out of their convenient firewood and if this snowstorm doesn’t end soon their Christmas tree will fall victim. Their sad little tree that has no presents underneath it with it being so close to Christmas. Would it be weird if he wrapped the one gift he bought and put it under the tree? He’ll ponder this if he can ever get back to his room.

As Bill is watching the fire, waiting to see if the new log he added will catch, he’s staring intently at his phone. With their power limited their phones had been resigned to stay on the charger dock, but Bill checks his every chance he gets. Mike has no reason to check his, it would just be his mom fretting over him or maybe even El checking on him.

When Bill crawls back into the bed, Mike can’t help but notice that Bill seems…crestfallen. His easy smile disappeared.

This time Bill lays flat on his back, a space between the two of them. Mike feels like maybe he should pry into whatever has Bill in a sour mood. He does care about him but Bill is also Bill. Dramatic, always waxing woes. That stupid writer's brain of his. In a way, he reminds him of Dustin. And there was only so much he could deal with Dustin.

Turn around, look at what you seeeeheheeee-

Mike rubs at his face, groaning, deciding to be the good friend for once, “What’s up dude? You’re pouting.”

“Am not!”

“You literally are!” he juts out his lower lip, making an over-dramatic pout overtake his features, “What’s wrong? Who made poor ole Billy sad?” he babbles.

Bill smacks him on his chest, “Beep b-beep!”

“Stop saying that! I don’t know what it means!” Mike whispers.

He huffs, “Well you should!”

Emily starts to rustle on the couch behind them, their hushed argument making her stir. They both watch with weighted breaths as she turns her head and lets out a loud snore, some of her curly hair falling in her face. Mike doesn’t push it back from her face.

Bill flops back down onto his back, sighing deeply, “Do you really wa-want to know?”

“Absolutely not,” Bill glares at him and Mike shakes his head, going for a softer tone, “Clearly I want to know, what’s getting you, Big Bill?”

“It’s fuf-fucking Stanley.”

That’s a name he wasn’t expecting to hear. Honestly, in all his shit with Max, he’s kinda forgotten about the catastrophe from the frat house concerning Bill. How Bill was making out with mister pristine and accidentally bumped his nose, making it bleed. Okay, it was kinda Mike’s fault but he’s not taking that blame.

Since that frat party, he’s seen Stanley a couple of times. First at the study session time before fall break and at them since. It’s like he’s now a permanent attendee of them which sucks because if he’s there, Bill won’t be. There's also the fact he's gotten to witness the evolution of Patty and Stanley's 'friendship'. He hasn't told Bill about that. But also there hasn’t been a time for him to ask Bill about the Stanley situation. Not that he’s tried to make time either. Guess he hasn’t just been a shitty friend to Max.

“The guy you were making out with at the party?” he asks even though he knows.

Bill pulls his pillow over his head and mumbles, “Stan! Yes!” or that’s what he guesses Bill said. He can barely understand him.

He pulls the pillow off of Bill's head, “What about him?”

“There’s just ss-so much, I don’t even know wuh-where to begin. Too much history,” he concedes.

Yeah, he knows the feeling. He knew when Stanley had said that he “only knew of Bill”, that it was bullshit. “How about you just tell me this, how do you feel about him?” he offers him.

More huffing, “As if that’s an easy question!” Bill looks like he’s lost in his mind, reliving through something and Mike lets him sit for a moment. Bill slowly comes back to himself and meets Mike’s gaze. He looks focused now, determination set in his blue eyes.

“Stanley and I, we go way buh-back. We’ve been fr-friends since we were kids. Actually, there were suh-seven of us. A group of outcasts, The Losers club we dd-dubbed ourselves. I loved all of them, but Stan was ddifferent. You know how you can have cluh-close friendships but that one is dd-different?”

Mike nods, knowing exactly what he means.

“Anyways,” Bill waves off, “Stanley, he was ddifferent. Our ff-friendship was different. He was always there for me. Fuck, I basically luh-lived at his home during high school. You know he’s the reason I got into this ststst-stupid school? He single-handedly made sure I p-passed my classes,” he smiles fondly as if remembering.

“I just thought that we’d end up to-together. I thought we both felt the suh-same way and we were just waiting t-t-till university to finally be together. It wasn’t sa-safe in our small town,” he laughs humorlessly, “No one is safe in Derry.”

That sounds so ominous but he doesn’t butt in to question him. Just lets him vent.

“We got into the suh-same school! I was so sure we were thinking the sssame thing! Why would he fuh-follow me here if not? NYU wasn’t in his top choices but he applied anyway! Then when we got here…he wanted n-nothing to do with me!” Bill grips tightly onto the bed sheets, “I was some fu-fu-fucking stranger to him. That frat party was the f-first time I got him to talk to me. I overheard sssomeone say they were meeting up with Stan there so-so I went and cornered him.”

“Oh, so that frat party wasn’t just about you forcing me to liven up then?”

Bill represses a chuckle, “Nope. Sorry dude.”

He looks like he’s not going to say anything else but Mike knows he needs to get this out so he nudges him gently, “Come on Bill, what happened at the party?”

Bill lets go of the sheets and throws up his hands, “We got drunk! We mmm-made out! That’s it! Now he’s back to not t-talking to me and I think he’s bluh-blocked my number. None of my mm-messages are going through now. Probably t-too busy messaging back fu-fucking Patty!” he spits out.

Ah, so Bill knows about that and odds are he found out through Patty herself too.. They are supposed to be friends after all. Mike forgot about that.

“I don’t think they’re dating Bill,” he tries to reassure.

“They’re nn-not dating yet,” Bill corrects.

To that he has nothing. He’s not going to lie to him. Mike is many things but he’s not a liar. Friends don’t lie.

Instead, he says: “It’s his loss then. You're a great guy, he’s missing out.”

Bill doesn’t acknowledge this and his next words put Mike at a loss, “I think I love him.”

Shit. Mike is not the guy to give out advice on this. Everyone Mike’s ever loved has left him. All Mike knows how to do is make people leave him. Thankfully Bill isn’t looking for answers. He just looks resigned to his fate.

“Th-thanks for letting me rant man, it fffelt good to get that off m-my chest,” he reaches over to pat Mike on the cheek, “You’re a good friend.”

No, he’s not.

Mike flings the pillow at Bill’s face, “No I’m not.” Bill laughs and takes back his pillow, getting it comfortable under his head. Mike is wondering about something from Bill’s tale, something that leaves his lips before he can stop it, “What caused you and Stan to be so close anyways?”

Bill’s breath hitches, eyes widen, “My little brother was murdered.”

He regrets asking. He wants to take it back, but the dam has busted wide open and Bill looks like he’s about to cry as he blubbers, “After his dddd-death, all my fruh-friends were there for me, th-they were amazing like that, but Stan was really there."

Kinda like how the Party was there for eachother when Will first went missing. Just without the romantics. He misses how close he used to be with Dustin and Lucas.

Bill still looks grief stricken and Mike takes a chance when he says: "Tell me about Georgie Bill."

Surprisingly, Bill smiles softly, his panic striving off, “His name was Georgie. I huh-haven’t said his name out loud in a long time…it fffeels nice. He was always s-smiling, always giggling. He loved to race pa-paper boats in the rain.”

“He sounds like he was a great kid,” he says honestly. He can picture Georgie now, a little miniature Bill. He hates that he’ll never get to meet him.

“He was,” Bill answers simply.

Mike finds a sudden interest in his pajama shirt. It was Bill’s and it has DHS WRITERS CLUB in bold print across the front. Bill has shared a deep, intimate part of his life with him and truthfully, it feels nice to have someone trust him so profoundly. He decides he can trust Bill too.

“Max’s brother died too. Well technically, he was her stepbrother.”

Bill sits up, maybe sensing the impact of what Mike was telling him, or maybe because he’s found out someone else near him has gone through the same as him. Though Mike doubts that losing Billy had the same impact on Max as losing Georgie had on Bill.

“Is that why she’s muh-messed up?”

Messed up. That's one way to word it. Aren’t they all messed up? After the upside-down how could they not be? “Yeah, I guess. There’s more to it but essentially yes.”

“How’d he die?” It’s only fair that he asks, he said how Georgie died. Murdered.

Now comes the lies. Those feeble lies that feel almost like an insult to those that died. Billy died protecting El from the Mindflayer. The only good thing he possibly ever did in his life.

“We had this mall and a fire broke out. A lot of lives were lost, it was a town disaster. Her stepbrother, Billy, was among those that died.”

Bill’s silent and it takes Mike a moment to realize he’s waiting for him to go on. He preferred this conversation when Mike wasn’t the one exposing stuff about his past but there’s a reason he did this to himself. “Me and Max, we weren’t great friends, more like we just happened to share the same friends. We fought a lot and the summer before high school she convinced my girlfriend to break up with me. Too bad because the breakup didn’t stick…that time.”

Bill in all his chagrin, laughs. Mike rolls his eyes and continues, “But we were friends during the time that Billy died. I was there the night he died. All our friends were and his death was brutal.”

Mike doesn’t want to continue but Bill prods him, “How’d she tt-take it?”

This is when Mike laughs, almost in self-hatred. “I don’t know! We all got busy with our own shit and we didn’t exactly check to see how she was dealing with it,” they abandoned her, he abandoned her, “Eventually she wasn’t talking to any of us. We deserved it but honestly, we were too busy being shitty friends to even notice her absence at first. We weren’t amazing like yours were.” How badly he wants to replace the word ‘we’ with ‘I’ as he speaks.

It feels like a wire is exposed and Bill is looking at him disappointed wearily that he feels like he has to explain more. “It’s not like Billy was a great guy! He was racist to my friend, her boyfriend at the time! He was a drunk and abusive. One time he tried to run my friends and me off the road with his stupid camero!”

An uncomfortable silence falls between them. Mike fears that Bill is judging him. He can’t blame him if he is. He deserves it.

“You were kids. Kids shouldn’t b-be expected to know how to duh-deal with dddeath.” Bill wasn’t judging him and now he hates himself a little bit more for even thinking that. Bill lays back down and starts to creep his way back over to Mike, getting his head back in his lap. He lets him.

He starts to think that that’s the end of the conversation but turns out Bill’s not done, “Did you ever th-think that maybe Max is fffeeling more than gr-grief over her stepbrother’s death? If he was that bad th-then one would almost feel relieved that he died. Even if he was her ssstepbrother. I can’t imagine the kind of gg-guilt that would walk hand in hand with that relief.”

There have been very few times that Mike has ever genuinely felt like an idiot. Now is one of those times. Leave it fucking Bill to put Billy’s death into a perspective he’s never considered.

Mike deflates against the back of the couch, the wisps of Emily’s soft snores sending chills down the back of his neck. “You know Bill, you’re too smart for your own good.”

Bill laughs, “Don’t call me sssmart just yet! The reason I ff-first thought of when you s-started bringing Max around was buh-because you had a crush on her.”

He resists the urge to shove Bill off him. Is Mike having a crush on Max?! Gross! A perversion of nature! …Right? Mike flicks Bill in the ear, “Ew! No! That’s just wrong on so many levels!”

The bastard starts to make kissy noises, “I don’t know, I tt-think Mike has a lil crushy wuh-wushy!”

“I swear to God Bill I will smother you in your sleep.”

Bill gives in but he's still sniggering as he lets his eyes flutter shut. That’s the first good idea he’s had all night.

The next day Mike was determined to follow through on his resolve to get Max to talk to him. And to get his room back.

…Okay maybe not so much that one but he was going to get her to talk to him today dammit!

The next morning starts how he expected. Running on maybe three hours of sleep he tiredly made breakfast. And by making breakfast he means eating crackers and cheese. Their food supplies were running low.

Bill and Emily split the rest of Derek’s oreos. Mike pointed out that Derek wasn’t going to be happy when he came back and all his food was gone. To which Emily flipped him off and Bill said: “Derek can dd-deal. He’s not the one in a sn-snowstorm. Too bbusy soaking sun in Muh-Mexico.” Mike couldn’t argue with that.

He tried to knock at his bedroom door, trying to offer her some different food besides cheese sticks, but Max just yelled at him to go away. She sounded tired, defeated almost. If the gameplay here is to wear her down till she talks to him, he’s down. Albeit that gameplay is a little messed up, Max feels like shit with the drug withdrawals. This is potentially the only time in her life when she can be “worn down.” He’s biding his time.

The worst thing this snowstorm has brought was boredom. Mike is so incredibly, mind-numbingly, bored. At least the snow has stopped coming down. Should only be a day or two left now. His time to talk to Max is running out.

Middle of the day Mike decides to take a nap. Emily and Bill have been watching some boring silent film from the 1920s and Mike is not nearly sophisticated enough to enjoy it. Also, it’s dumb. There’s a reason silent films are outdated.

But his wonderful nap gets interrupted by a loud crash.

In a panic he sits up on the couch, having taken over Emily’s ‘bed’ to nap. The living room is empty but Bill’s bedroom door is open and the light is on. Another crash comes from the room.

Emily is half in the doorway and Bill is sitting at his desk. At his desk where he keeps his weed in the drawer. For someone who’s having their room torn apart, he looks pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. Shit is all over the floor and his nightstand has been torn apart.

Max is tearing open Bill’s dresser, throwing things out of it. She’s frantic and her movements are erratic. Like a roach when the light comes on.

“What the hell is going on here?!” He demands.

Max whips around on her feet, regarding him with nothing but contempt, “What the fuck is going on here Micheal is that your buddy pal here is hiding his fucking weed!”

Bill shrugs his shoulders, “I told you, I’m out.”

“You! Out?!” she chides, “Based on the size of your stash last time I know you’re basically a pothead!”

Before Bill can say anything else, Mike steps in, “So you’re destroying his room?! Because he doesn’t have any weed?!”

Max is right, Bill is an almost pothead, but Bill has picked up on the fact that Max is not to be given any type of substance. Mike didn’t even have to tell him. Fuck, he owes Bill big time.

Max literally screams, “I just need something! Anything! You don’t know what it’s been like for me these past couple of days!”

He closes some of the distance between them, almost like a shield. He doesn’t know if he’s trying to hide Max in her delirium or to protect Bill and Emily from it. “Because you’ve been hiding in my room! You locked me out!”

Max races up and shoves him but Mike holds steady this time. When Bill stands to intervene, Mike holds a hand out stopping him. Bill sits back down.

“Yeah because I could totally do with the signature judging Mike Wheeler look! You don’t want to help me! You only want to ridicule me and- and- and make me feel small!” she shoves him again, weaker this time, “You just want to make me feel small!”

That knocks the wind out of his chest. “I-I-I-,” Shitshitshitshit, how is this her conclusion?!

Oh yeah, because he’s a bad friend.

Max watches him flounder just for a moment before she gently grabs his upper arm, “Mike I just need to get high, please. Help me, Mike.”

This breaks his doldrum. She’s asking him for help. She’s asking him to help her get high. To maybe bribe Bill into giving her some weed. She even said ‘please’. He can’t recall a time she ever said that. She doesn’t even care that Emily and Bill are here, now having figured out what is truly up with her. All she cares about is getting high.

She looks like a corpse. Can the dead now talk to him?

He shakes her hand off his shoulder, ignoring the look of betrayal she gives him. “Max I…”

“You know what?” She laughs, “Fuck this shit,” and then she bolts.

It’s like a scene from Looney Toons. He can swear he sees the dust from the spot where she once stood. It’s the slam of the front door that gets him moving. It’s like a horrible flashback as he charges out after her, trudging through the snow.

Outside is so cold it sucks the air right out of his lungs. He pants as he follows Max’s path through the deep snow, it immediately numbing his bare feet. His pajama pants are soaked to his legs.

“Max! Wait!”

Her hair shines in the street lamp lights as she manically tries to get away from him. The snow prevents her from being too quick but she’s determined. It looks like she's out in the middle of the road but it’s hard to tell. Everything is too deep in the snow.

“Leave me alone Mike!” she yells over her shoulder.

“It’s too cold to be doing this! Let’s just go back inside!”

She ignores him and trudges on. He’s about to plead with her again when she trips on something hidden in the snow and falls face-first. “Max!”

Max is still laying in the snow when he finally gets to her and he’s terrified that when he turns her over she’s going to be dead. God, don’t let her be dead.

“Max?” When he turns her over, snow is littering her hair and the front of her his sweater soaked, he’s surprised to see she’s crying. “Max?” he asks again, unsure of what to do.

She sits up, making a crater in the snow, and clings to her legs, sobs racking her body. Hesitantly he puts an arm around her and is thrown off guard when she twists her body to cling to him tightly, getting his shirt wet with her snot and tears.

He’s never seen Max cry, let alone like this. Her sobs threaten to tear her in half, ripping their way out of her throat. She cries so hard that her body can’t keep up and it launches her into a coughing fit a couple of times.

The only thing he can think to do is hold her tight and hope that he can prevent her from shattering. She’s so tiny in his arms and it feels wrong. “You make me feel small.” MadMax is never supposed to be small. Maybe if he can hold the pieces of her together then maybe one day she can mend herself back into a whole person. He never meant to make her feel small.

For a very brief moment, he thought he had lost her and he was terrified.

He doesn’t know how long they sit there. In their little crater in the deep snow in the middle of the maybe road. His body is numb and he keeps sniffling. Maybe it’s not just the cold, maybe it’s because he’s crying too. Maybe he’s mourning everything that was taken from him and Max. Taken from the party. Maybe if they got to have actual childhoods, ones not filled with flesh-eating monsters, Max would be okay. They wouldn’t be here now.

Emily starts to walk down the path in the snow that Max and Mike hastily made when they were running. She’s holding two blankets and she keeps her distance. He’s thankful.

Max’s sobs taper out and she’s left resting her face in the crevice of his neck and shoulder, probably not ready to face what happens next. Mike feels guilty when he nudges her but if they stay out here any longer the threat of catching hypothermia is very real.

When they stand, Mike helping her to her feet, Emily approaches them. She hands Mike one of the blankets and puts the other around Max’s shoulders. “There you go darling,” she soothes.

Max can’t meet her eye and stares at Emily’s slipper-clad feet, “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“Oh no no no,” Emily tuts back. She grabs Max’s chin and forces her to look at her, “Don’t you dare apologize. No one is mad at you. We’re all a little fucked up and sometimes we do and say things we don’t mean.”

“But- But- But I destroyed Bill’s room,” she rebukes.

Emily laughs a little, “Bill isn’t mad at you either. His room is always a mess. If anything, you improved it.” Max doesn’t laugh but she smiles weakly which is good enough for Emily, “Now come on. I have a warm shower going for you. It’ll be good for you to decompress and warm up.” She puts her arm around Max’s shoulders and starts to guide Max back to their home. Part of Mike wonders if that’s because Emily is worried about Max running away again.

Silently he follows back.

Once inside Emily leads Max to his and Bill’s bathroom. Mike heads to his room to change clothes.

He hasn’t been in here the past couple of days but besides the wrappers in the trash can and the unmade bed, it looks barely touched. He isn’t sure if he should be surprised or not that Max didn’t pilfer through his things.

Some feeling starts to come back into his hands and feet but he can’t stop himself from shivering. He takes off Bill’s lent, now soaked clothes, and double layers everything in his own clothes. In his drawer, he finds his old Hellfire t-shirt and decides to wear that too. It’s long-sleeved.

For Max, he lays out some of his pajama pants and socks. From his nightstand, he pulls out Max’s long sleeve shirt from that first night. The one that she puked on and the one that concealed her needle marks. Now it’s clean and can serve another purpose, keeping her warm.

While he waits for Max to warm up in the shower, he wraps a blanket back around his shoulders and heads into the hall. He can hear Emily in the kitchen warming up the kettle and smiles. Emily and Bill are the best and he has a lot to be grateful for.

He stops at Bill’s door when he sees him out of the corner of his eye picking up things from the floor. Bill has put most of the stuff that was flung from his nightstand back, albeit a bit haphazardly, and is starting to pick up his clothes.

“Hey…Bill?” he lingers in the doorway, a bit unsure what to say, “I’m sorry about-”

Bill waves him off, “Don’t wuh-worry about it. It ddo be what it ddo be,” he says unconcernedly.

Mike sighs and goes to put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to convey how thankful he is, “Just, thanks, man. For everything.” Thank you for not giving her weed.

He shrugs Mike’s hand off of him abruptly, “St-stop! Your hhands are i-i-icicles! I can fuh-feel it through my shirt!”

“Are they now?” he asks innocently before jabbing his cold hands onto Bill’s neck.

“No! Stahp!!” Bill clamors to his feet and runs out of his room, Mike on his trail, trying to touch him.

They scurry into the kitchen, Bill stopping and making Mike run into him. Emily stands at the bar, rolling her eyes and sighing,“Now now boys…” she scolds.

She hands Bill a mug of tea and then passes Mike two of them. It’s peppermint. “This one is for Max, it should help settle her stomach…and her nerves.” He grins and accepts it, heading back down to his room. He heard the shower cut off when he was chasing Bill so maybe she’s ready to see him.

When he knocks the door falls open so he enters. Now or never.

Max is sitting on his bed, dressed in the clothes he laid out for her. Her hair is still wet but it’s brushed and for the first time since this has started it looks clean. She has her arms tightly wrapped around her legs, staring into the abyss.

He breaks her out of her trance when he offers her the mug of hot tea. She accepts silently with a small smile, wrapping her hands around it to warm them up. Or to try to control the small tremors wracking her body. Stiffly he takes a seat across from her in his desk chair.

An awkward silence falls between them.

“So…how do you feel?” He goes for something relatively easy to break it.

Max guffaws at that, “My body feels like it got hit but a semi-truck.”

“...Guess that’s what a drug detox does to you.”

When Max flings her cup of hot tea at him it’s going to scald right? He’s going to lose his eyebrows? Because a statement like that can only make her angry.

Except…Max doesn’t get angry, her shoulders just slump and she looks, and she looks detached. “Yeah, I guess that it does,” she whispers.

They haven’t been frank about her drug addiction, fuck they’ve barely even discussed it. Now is the time. Now after she just cried so hard in his arms, something Mike never thought would ever happen.

“Tell me,” he presses, “Tell me why, why heroin? Because honestly Max I’ve been racking my brain, for a while now, and I don’t understand. You barely drank soda as a kid! And now you’re shooting up?”

Remarkably she doesn’t get up to leave or flip off, but she gives him a deflection, “Why are you back in your nerd shirt? Hellfire? I always thought that was a waste of a metal name.”

“D&D is metal!”

He takes a deep breath, Max is trying to rile him and that’s not what right now is about, “I’m trying to be serious Max, I want to be here for you. Let me do that, please.”

Max’s face is stoic, unreadable, but her words cut like knives, “You weren’t there after Billy died, none of you were there.”

He leaps to his feet, almost spilling his tea, but he stops himself. His gut reaction is to get defensive and tell her that she didn’t let them be there for her, but that’s not the whole truth. Yes, Max purposefully distanced herself from the Party, but none of them bothered to try and stop her. None of them cared enough to. So he sits back down, Max looks at him with a confused twerk in her brow, and he reframes what he says next.

“I know. I’m sorry. That was, that was pretty shit of me. All of all of us.” Max just studies her hot tea, taking a small sip. She says nothing.

He hasn’t been able to get what Bill said last night about Billy out of his head. Is Max happy that he’s dead? And if so, is it the guilt that crushes her now? He has to know. But he doesn’t get to ask before Max takes the words out of his mouth.

“I’m happy he’s dead.”

“What?”

Max acts like she didn’t mean to let those words out of her mouth and she looks ashamed, “Forget I said that!”

He sets his tea down on his desk and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, hesitantly placing a hand on her knee, “No Max, tell me. Billy wasn’t a good person, no one can blame you if you felt relieved over his death.”

She doesn't shake his hand off but she sits up in a reserved manner, “You don’t get it!”

“But I want to! Max, I want to get it!”

“Why?! Why now?! After all this time?!” Max charges.

Mike rubs at his face with his other hand, the voice of his mom in his head telling him to knock it off be damned. “Because! Because Max I finally fucking realized how shitty of a friend I was!” Am “I mean you watched your stepbrother die and no one bothered to ask how you were handling it! It doesn’t matter if it was Dustin, Lucas, or me! None of us cared enough to ask you! And I’m so sorry! I'm sorry I made you feel small!” tears are springing his eyes but he won’t let them fall, “But-but I’m here now. And Max I care! I know I can’t always show it and fuck, I’m even bad at saying it, but I do care about you! We were friends at one point. We went to hell and back, that has to count for something! If the Party can’t rely on each other then we’re all screwed!” None of them have been good at that as of late.

Max eyes are glazed over as she shakes her head, “No I was the one who pushed you guys away after-”

Mike grabs her wrist, “Don’t try to take blame now, not after I just waxed poetic about how shitty I and the Party was,” And that, that makes her smile, it’s a little one bit it counts. “I’m serious Max. You know we were in the wrong, not you. You were hurting and we let you push us away…have I apologized for that yet?”

She sniffles, “Yes, I think you have.”

He nods, feeling emotionally drained but determined to power on, “So tell me about Billy, I’m listening.”

And she does. Max tells him about how she felt so guilty when Billy died because she spent so many nights wishing for it. That maybe he would wreck his camaro or drink too much and pick a fight with the wrong guy. An accident. She wanted him dead because he went out of his way to put her and the people she cared about through hell. She never thought he would actually die though.

When he did it felt like she had manifested it into existence. She laughed grimly at that, at how ridiculous it sounded. Max was never one for fate or destiny. She blamed herself for his death. He tries to remind her that it was the Mindflayer but she won’t hear it. Not right now.

It’s not just the guilt that gets to her. It’s the questions too. Who could he have become? Could they ever have had a normal brother-sister relationship or was Billy too filled with anger? Could she ever forgive him for what he’d done? Can she forgive herself now?

She doesn’t miss him, she misses the good person he had a chance to become. When he gave his life to save El that showed there was something good in him, just buried deep down. And now he’s dead and she blames herself.

“I’m not a good person, Mike,” she chokes out.

“No, don't say that!” Mike grabs her hand now, having set her tea down as she was talking, “You were the one who gave El a sense of self, and you ran into tunnels filled with demadogs to fight with some nerds you just met. You made Lucas happy! A bad person wouldn’t have done that!”

She tries to argue but he won’t hear it, “Look, Max, me and you? We fought a lot. A lot a lot. And that was because we were both trying to do what we thought was good for our friends!”

“I thought it was because we hated each other.” There’s no malice in her tone.

“Okay well, maybe that too. You convinced my girlfriend to break up with me, that was a real punch.”

“El was too good for you.”

He snickers, “Yeah you’re right.”

Mike is terrified that he’s going to say the wrong thing. Max is finally opening up to him. He’s not a fool to believe that she believes him when he says she’s not a bad person. He’s been there, he still doesn’t think he’s a good friend but dammit he’s trying. “I’ll leave it at this: I don’t think you’re a bad person and friends don’t lie, remember?”

“Thanks, Mike,” Max gawkily pats his hand resting on top of hers but she sounds sincere.

It’s almost…peaceful between them so he hates to ruin it. “Is Billy’s death why you started using drugs?”

Max appears like she was expecting this question but she still isn’t excited about answering it. She takes her hand away and he lets her, “Yes? No? I don’t know. It’s not like I woke up one day feeling like shit over him and decided to shoot up.”

“Then what is it?” This answer is the key to getting her to quit.

“It was everything I guess. Being a year older than Bill will ever get to be, having no friends,” she scoffs, “fucking Gary and my mom.” Mike has no idea who Gary is but he’ll later find out that it’s Max’s rich new stepdad who carted her mom off away to Seattle. “All of it got to me and I was just looking for a way to get away from it all. Somehow I got here.”

“But now you can stop with them.”

Max rolls her eyes, “Mike don’t go down this road, I can stop whenever I want to.”

“Can you?” There’s a flash of annoyance in her eyes and he backtracks, “I’m not asking to be condescending. It’s just what happened in Bill’s room earlier, that didn't look like ‘I can stop when I want’ to me...Max, you need help.”

“Mike, I don't need you to try and fix me!” her voice raises.

He’s learned from his past mistakes with El and Will and that comes in handy now, “I’m not trying to fix you! I just want to give you the tools so that you can fix yourself! Max, you're one of the strongest people I know, I know you can do this!”

Max’s anger deflates, “...I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

Mike, ever the researcher has an answer to this too, “There’s an NA meeting at a local church, I figure we could start there. You can try to keep clean and we can attend the meetings. You’ve already gone through the worst of the detox period so this is a good start.”

She’s silent for a moment but she accepts his plan, “One problem with this, what do you mean by ‘we’?”

“Yeah, ‘we’," he says obviously, "You can do this by yourself but there’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help.”

“As long as you don’t become ‘hero’ Mike,” she groans.

“No promises.”

She wacks him on the back of his head, “Mike I swear!”

“Okay okay! I’ll try to keep from my heroness!” he retracts, “Only if we have a deal though?” He holds out his hand.

Max eyes it but shakes it after a moment, “You’re such a nerd.”

“I could’ve spit in my hand, we could’ve made a spit pack,” he jests.

“Gross! Mike!”

He’s still laughing when he looks over and accidentally sees on his alarm clock that it’s past midnight. It’s officially Christmas Eve. Huh.

Max watches him as he stands and goes to his closet. He bought this before their first D&D session and didn’t know if he was going to ever actually give it to her. In light of their conversation now feels like a good time.

She stands and walks over to him silently, bewildered by what he’s holding in his hands. “What is that?”

Is this…embarrassment? Why is there a blush keeping up his neck? He stiffly hands over her gift without a word.

Max runs her finger up the panel and spins one of the wheels, “Did you get me a skateboard?” He doesn’t answer her and she looks up to scowl at him, “Mike did you get me a skateboard?”

“It’s nothing. I haven’t seen you skateboard in a long time and I just thought-”

“It has Wonder Woman on it.”

Fuck did he mess up? “El told me that was your favorite superhero!” Way to blame it on El Mike.

Max grins softly and traces the Wonder Woman symbol, “El told you?”

“She did.” Mike desperately wants to tell that El also misses Max but now is not the time, “Also I figured that if you wanted to try to get yourself clean, skateboarding could be a good distraction.”

Max smirks, “Guess you do have some good ideas in that head of yours nerd.”

He resists snarking back, this is supposed to be a nice moment, but he still flips her off as he says: “Merry Christmas Max.”

A/N: RIP Georgie

Don't ask me how Bill's stutter works, I don't fucking know

Have I forgotten to mention that the events of IT chapter one has also happened in this AU? Whoops. Mike and Bill really should trade some notes on fighting interdimensional monsters

Disclaimer! Weed is not a bad drug! (At least in moderation) But remember Max is going through major withdrawals from hard drugs so she's looking for anything to take the edge off. Weed in this context would not be good for her.

I love Emily and Bill. They're honestly the best for Mike and for Max too. Derek...you get your snacks eaten.

OKAY so so much happened this chapter. Please keep in mind this fic is a slow burn, a painful one. Max is no where near out of the woods but finally Max and Mike were frank about her drug addiction and they had to conversation about Billy. I'm getting back into *hopefully* weekly chapter updates. The next chapter will be shorter (plz 7k chapters can't be normal for this fic) and the next chapter is filler of sorts. Basically fluff. Bc you're going to need it after this chapter and the next major chapter.

Side Note: Max did apologize to Bill but I couldn't fit in, it just happens off screen.

ALSO MAX AND MIKE CAN BE HARD TO RIGHT FOR WHEN IT COMES TO EMOTIONAL SCENES AAAAA BUT I THINK I DID GOOD

Thank you for being patient! I'm sorry for the long time between chapters but I have the best commenters <3 Please excuse any errors

#madwheeler #max mayfield #mike wheeler #maxine mayfield #madmax #bill denbrough #stenbrough #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #stranger things 4 #stranger things

5 notes · View notes

shattered-sparks · 1 year

Text

Previous part --- Sun, no, Sunset walked on the cloudy ground. Blues and purples floating into the vast nothing-ness with each step. Off to look for the twins in order to properly talk. “I do not like him Brother, He treats us as if we are like no other” “I agree other me, but we have to put up intel we are left to be free” The sound of a conversation was heard, Sunset swiveling his head. Finding the two he was searching found criss-cross sitting on the floor. Facing one another. Bloodmoon let out a growl of frustration. “Oooh but he insulted you. Acted like we are a fool!” “Yes but think about what we could do! We can make him the fool!” The thought of the two twins scheming right behind Sunset’s back left a sour taste in his mouth. A spark of anger made itself known, Sunset stomped it out. “Are you two done making plans on torturing me or do you want more time to think on how to ring my neck?” Sunset dryly shouted at the two, 2 sets of eyes quickly scanning and finding the orange spikey jester. Both setting their glares on Sunset as he walked closer. “You do not get to interrupt!! It comes with a cost!” Growled out the more hostel twin. Still clearly upset that Sunset had insulted the two from before. Sunset all but let out a frustrated sigh. Shoulders set as his claw pinched the bridge of his nose etched into his faceplate. “God you two are utterly hopeless, Listen I don’t like you and you don’t like me. That’s fine, great even! But this is my body so you’re going to have to go by my rules.” Sunset started which was only met with a growl of teeth. “Do you think we’ll obey your rules? You must be joking, we are not your tools!” “Tools?! What? I-” Sunset was quickly cut off once more. The aggressive twin standing up and shielding his sleepy brother. “All you Suns are the same. Think we simply a game. We shall not be bested by your sick twisted play, You are merely a thing in the way!” The twin promptly launched himself onto Sunset, pouching on him. Sunset quickly side stepped. Causing him to trip over his own two feet, landing on his ass in a bundle of jingles. That spark came back and turn into a flame. “Will you two stop talking and listen to me!! I’m not like Eclipse!!” Sunset shouted. The floor beginning to shake as Bloodmoon lost their footing and fell to the floor. Growling as Sunset pushed himself back up as if the quake didn’t even phase him. “I am going to loose it if I hear one more time that there is something wrong with me. That I need to take a step back! Because I don’t!! I’m tired of people implying that I’m like Eclipse when I’m Not!!” Several more deadly shakes kept the two twins pinned to the ground. Sunset with shaking claws strode forward to the twin that had attempted to pounce on him. Hurt him. As Bloodmoon’s face plate for once twisted into something that Sunset had never seen from them the orange jester only saw red. “Now you are going to listen to me and stop being so stubborn!!” The mindscape cracked. While lines singling the start to a much more bigger spiderweb. Sunset stood there glaring at Bloodmoon. Daring them to make even one single comment. One tiny peep. But they didn’t. They simply sat there, arms up in a defensive pose. Body slightly shivering as if they were cold. Bloodmoon was scared. It took a moment for Sunset to realize what had happened. What had happened to the mindscape. What had happened to Bloodmoon. And in that same tense moment he realized, he had fallen back on himself. And that alone caused him to crumble in on himself. Legs giving out as if the realization was too much weight to bare. No one dared to move for a while as silence carried over the three. Not intel the more Aggressive twin decided to test the waters. Picking himself up to take a step closer. The sleepy twin shooting an arm out in a silent plea not to. The bloodmoon twins shared a look before the aggressive one spoke up. “You hold anger that leads to danger” Sunset was looked up fearfully at Bloodmoon as tears once again pricked his eyes, threatening to fall. “N-No I don’t! I don’t!” Sunset all but scrambled, stuttering in his words as he tried to get them out as quickly as possible. “Denial isn’t the final.” “I-I..” “We can help make it better than ever”

#BloodSplatter AU #Written Paw Prints #Sunset #Oh my god we have progress!

6 notes · View notes

beevean · 1 year

Note

Y'know what? I'm in the mood for it

Who's the worst character: Bella Swan or Lenore?

(I don't know anything about Twilight nor do I wish to, I just want to see you go off :P)

Oh boy! I did read all four Twilight books! And this is an extremely hard question :'D

Uhhhh I will say this: Lenore, as disgusting as she is, at least is not the protagonist of the story, let alone the POV. Meaning, I don't have to get into her sick head. Meanwhile, reading Twilight means having to deal with every single one of Bella's inane thoughts, from her being a whiny bitch to her being seriously creepy.

Did you know that she's so eager to have sex with Edward in Eclipse that she pretty much forces herself on him? As in, Edward says "We're not having this conversation", and Bella growls "I say we are", and starts to unbutton her shirt? And it's not treated seriously because haha, horny girl, good thing her man can keep her hormones down? Nobody talks about that because Edward's abuse is much more obvious, but Bella isn't much better when she really wants something (vampirism and Eddick) :) just like very few people talk about Lenore like the abusive rapist she is!

Funnily enough, Bella is mostly remembered for wangsting about everything, and Lenore quickly devolves into a whiny brat in S4 too, losing all of her supposed sexy mommy appeal. Another similarity.

Man, I really can't choose. On one hand, Lenore has far less presence than Bella, although wow does she make up for it. On the other, Bella/Edward is actually not a very popular ship - fans want Edward for themselves, and nowadays, it feels like Edward/Jacob and Bella/Alice are more popular (ofc they are). Bella as a character is not very well liked, because at best she's a blank slate and at worst she's just annoying. Unlike Lenore and Lenector who are still hella beloved :^)

Okay. I'm sorry to say. But Lenore is more tolerable than Bella. If I really, really have to narrow it down, Lenore is not a Mary Sue like Bella: as in, while the narrative forgives her abuse and rape, she isn't literally the center of the universe like Bella is. She's a minor antagonist at best. Bella is the Goddess of the Twilightverse, everyone loves her, the few who don't are painted as heartless bitches and get narratively tortured (Rosalie, who's revealed to have been gangraped and turned infertile when she wanted to be a mother - Bella gets worshipped when she becomes a mother herself), she gets everything she wants, she can be as nasty as she wants, her relationship with Edward is horrible on both sides, and she doesn't even have an interesting design or personality. There is literally nothing to like about her.

#anti netflixvania #jesus christ i can't believe i have found someone worse than the rapist bitch #bella is just a thoroughly unpleasant excuse of a character #i viscerally hate lenore more but bella is. bad.

4 notes · View notes

karla-the-elemental-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Convo With Terra re. KH Guardians of Light

These days, it seems like I'm naturally drawn to some of the KH guardians more than others, where as at the start (in 2020/2021), I was able to see and spend time with the whole group if I wanted to.

What started off as a casual conversation with Terra quickly became a therapy crash course, from an all of a sudden wise Terra, on how to get the whole group again. The energy I get determines what Terra (or anyone else) says, and here, like I said, Terra got freakishly smart and powerful; and it made for a very interesting chat.

Everything that's spoken about is what's occurring in my timeline, it isn't obviously the cannon timeline nor do you have to adopt it.

I've been prompted on many occasions in my dreams to 'unite' the guardians and get them back all into one space, which is why I feel I need to carry this out. With Riku and Terra leading the pack as my dream guides.

The 'main event' was my grandma having a fall this weekend (while being sick) and having to go to the hospital to get checked out.

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

START CONVERSATION

Me: “Hey Terra, you’re always checking on me, so this time I’m just seeing how you’re doing; especially after everything that’s gone on so far this weekend”.

Terra: “Thanks for checking up on me, I’m doing alright. There really hasn’t been anything big on Kingdom Hearts’ end as we’ve spent most of our time looking after you this weekend. We did have a meeting earlier in the week to say that you’re still struggling with all the guardians, but then Riku and I had to call Jak and rush to your side”.

Me: “The main event is over now. Heaven forbid anything else happens. At least we can all breathe tonight and I can get back to my own personal ventures. Now it’s back to chasing guardians and, as you said, trying to have all nine or ten of you here again all at once”.

Terra: “I know this might contradict what I’ve said recently; but maybe it’s not a good idea to actively chase after them. The only reason I say that is because I notice you making some sort of action plan in your mind, but when it comes time for you to act it out or just put pen to paper, you tend to get really tired and lose steam to be able to do anything”.

Me: “Communication interference again. Blame the current Mercury Retrograde, and the Lunar Eclipse, and another energies or concepts tampering with this timeline. For my brain to suggest something but then not let me carry it out really pisses me off. Like was my set job to unite Kingdom Hearts or not? Perhaps it’s the bloody 3D environment again”.

Terra: “Mmm. That’s another thing I worry about. That if you manage to get some of the other guardians onboard, but when you’re no longer putting energy into talking to them, then they’ll slip away again”.

Me: I’m thinking about them again now; so let me lay out my thoughts fast”.

Terra: “Alright”.

Me: “The ones I had strong connections with were different at the start. Like at the start of it all, I was so close to Roxas and now we barely even rate a signal, let alone any of the Twilight trio. That’s just one example between now and then”.

Terra: “Mmm. I recall that Roxas carried you once or twice. Your intention was to give him a sub role at the start, but now that’s what Ven’s got. Ven and Roxas are both connected to Sora, and they both look the same. So what I actually think is that Roxas’ imprint has been given to Ven, but in a way that you didn’t pick up on it. I think that if you went with Lea, then Roxas would have been more involved. But as it stands, you’ve headed in the direction of our trio, being Aqua, Ven and I”.

Me: “But I thought I was supposed to be with the entire group as a whole”.

Terra: “As frustrating as it may be, I saw that these so called end times are all about you choosing a side. So there’s that ultimate choice of good versus evil, but then you might also have to choose with smaller issues”.

Me: “And how does that relate to the trios?”.

Terra: Our Wayfinder and their Twilight trios are very different, and If you’ve paid attention to the two, they almost seem like opposites. To you, the Twilight guys might seem more relaxed and easygoing, where Aqua, Ven and I have more structure and sort of code of conduct. So you’re either pulled towards them, or us”.

Me: “But I haven’t anchored Aqua to the magnet as it were”.

Terra: “And that’s why you’re able to pick up one of the Twilight guys. Aqua wanted to step up so that we could in-fact take you as a trio, but obviously you and her weren’t a good match. So Lea’s there instead as her opposite. And like I said before; it’s either Ven or Roxas; and so that leaves my opposite being Xion or Namine”.

Me: “And that’s another odd thing, being that I’ve never spoken to Xion. She and I are both INFJ, and yet we know each other the least”.

Terra: “I wouldn’t be able to do much on that one as I don’t really know Xion that well myself. But I think the reason you talk to her the least is because you know the least of her story. You haven’t really seen enough of her at all to be able to imagine and launch your interaction with her. Hang on a minute, Riku’s saying something to me as well. Riku says that Xion comes from Sora’s memories of Kairi. So perhaps if you were closer to Sora and Kairi, then you would be drawn to Xion more. But as it stands, you’re close to neither of them”.

Me: So you’re saying that the guardians have a link, and depending on who I’m with, that determines which link I follow?”.

Terra: “It makes sense because at the start, you chose Riku, and then you saw that I was connected to him as a link, being that I passed down the power of the keyblade. Did you ever notice that when you were just under Riku, you aligned more with Sora and Kairi?”.

Me: “Yes. I frequented the islands more, and Sora and Kairi were present without much thought. That’s also when I was able to travel to other KH worlds more freely”.

Terra: “That’s because you were more on the main plot line back then, whereas by having me as your direct mentor, you’re channelling the Birth By Sleep plot line, whether you intended to or not. Under Riku’s instruction, that’s when you had all the big group gatherings, and you were able to land yourself in any world, because that’s what his best friend did. Riku and I may both be your dream guides, but depending on who you spend more time with, you also take the direction of that one’s surroundings. The reason you have an equal balance with everyone in Jak’s world is because Jak’s your only dream guide and he’s the main guy”.

Me: “Man… Talk about a game, book or movie dictating where I go in life…”.

Terra: “I guess I know why some people in your world call it subconscious programming. But with the ascension process in mind, you have the power to do anything and shape your world into what you see fit. You’ve already done that with Riku, Jak and I, so now you have to think about doing it to all the guardians. Rather than thinking about the guardians as individuals who look and behave different, and who live in various different worlds; try to focus more on us as the collective, who are on the same team, fighting against the darkness for the greater good. I know you can do it because I’m already a changed man thanks to you. I was designed to be a broken man mourning the loss of my father figure and still lamenting over what could have been. But you’ve destroyed Xehanort’s grip over me and my feelings, and that’s allowed me to move on much quicker than if we didn’t find each other. And you set up a personal mission to correct the way that you perceived Master Eraqus had treated me. You actively made the choice to free me from that pre-written script. You’ve set me on the path of discovering my own true potential, with my friends by my side, whilst being your teacher, friend and father figure”.

Me: “Hang on a second… I’ve just noticed a bit of a contradition. You’re saying to change my view of the guardians from individual to collective, yet to shape them into suitable beings for the timeline individually?”.

Terra: “In your timeline, most of the guardians of light are still running loose. You’re going to spend more time trying to round them each up individually than as a whole group, because while you’re focusing on Roxas, Kairi slips out and runs off in a different direction. That’s why you gather them all at the same time, and then when you have them, that’s when you can go to each of them and fine-tune all the details. Get them out of that scripted matrix and then work on them”.

Me: “There’s just one thing I’d like to know”.

Terra: “What’s that?”.

Me: “How did ‘I don’t know what help I can offer’ and ‘don’t chase after them’ change to you seeming to innerstand the entire issue and talking to me like you’ve hacked into my brain and you’re telling me exactly how to get all of them and make them stay?”.

Terra: “Like I’ve become some sort of scholarly sage huh?”.

Me: “Yes… How?”.

Terra: “Well you pretty much gave me the keys to the entire vault; and with that, you said I have free reign to use what ever resources in there and to do what ever I had to, to guide you and keep you on the right path. So with a few ground-rules in place, you pretty much gave me access to everything and told me to work as if I’m your dream dad”.

Me: “I raise another concern here, being that I don’t want every single guardian to be a dream mum or dream dad, aka dream guide. So how do I work with each one individually while placing that boundary on them?”.

Terra: “You have the perfect answer to that question with Aqua, because that’s exactly what you did with her. She acted in one way, but then you took the time to shape her into the path that you wanted her to go down. She pushed too much for your liking, so you told her to back off. But then she went too much the other way, so you went back and told us what you want again, as well as putting those taxes in place”.

Me: “So I have to do that for every single guardian of light”.

Terra: “You don’t have to if that’s not what you want, but it’s probably the best way to keep them. Like with Sora, you clearly got him out of Quadratum and I was there when it happened, but because you didn’t give him anywhere to go after that, it’s like he’s still lost. I know you think you shouldn’t have to give them every single direction and that they should be able to make their own decisions as people, but it’s just about putting them on some sort of path rather than leaving them in an empty void. Think about how you did so with Ven. You gave him an event to work towards, which is what you call the last day”.

Me: “So I guess I’m pretty much on the right track with your trio then, which is why they’re intact”.

Terra: “As it’s the next day now, I wanted to pass on something that Lea said to me in the space of time when you were getting ready for bed last night”.

Me: “What’s it mainly about?”.

Terra: “It’s about Xion”.

Me: “Ah, okay”.

Terra: “Lea said that the reason you’ve had almost no interaction with Xion isn’t because you don’t know her story, but that it’s something to do with her actual personality. You might be both INFJ, but I’ve realised that you’re more of an ambivert, which makes you unique. Whereas Xion’s almost completely introverted, which makes her more shy and closed off than you are. She doesn’t openly talk to someone unless they’re really close to her, and rather she keeps a lot of things to herself”.

Me: “So Xion will be the hardest to work on”.

Terra: “Having the same personality type doesn’t always mean that it’s going to be easy, especially if one of your traits is more subtle and there’s is more intense; or the other way around. But Lea said that if you want his help to connect with the other Twilight Town guys, then he’ll do what he can. And you know that Riku and I are always here for you too. I might just leave you with one last thought. You know how you’ve got the whole of Kingdom Hearts’ attention with me? It’s not just because you and I are connected, but it’s the lengths that you’ve gone to in order to look after me and transform me as a person. That’s just a reminder that you have the power to do anything if you put your mind to it and make some time to do the work, or at least believe that it can come true, as Cinderella taught me”.

Me: “Thank you so much, Terra. I’ll see what I can do with all the information you’ve given me, and maybe it’s the ultimate boost I need to get everyone back here and united”.

Terra: “That’s okay. Let me know if you need anything else, alright?”.

END CONVERSATION

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

EDIT: Just now (1:10 AM), Terra pointed out to me that half the guardians are fairly stable, and half aren't; so I can split them into 2 groups:

Stable (/adequate): Riku, Terra, Aqua, Ventus, Lea

Unstable: Sora, Kairi, Roxas, Xion, Namine

0 notes

morgana-ren · 3 years

Text

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom?

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that.

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then?

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track.

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him.

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves.

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up.

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right.

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins.

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move?

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t.

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

‘Maybe I will.’

That’s how it starts.

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties.

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper.

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils.

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now.

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties.

“Shit-”

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-” He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you. “Yeah- yeah, sure.”

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.”

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

#nsft #shigaraki smut #see warnings #no mommy kink i am sorry #lots of gross shit for you tho #which I assume you want cause you came to me of all people #see the warning list up top for full disclosure

182 notes · View notes