#i can't take it anymore all the tributes okay

[iheartsunset]

TBOSAS Alignment Charts

Tanner dresses like half the guys did at my senior prom...gotta love the Deep South ig

[malk1ns]

Most definitely talking about Sid's upcoming heat and Sid's yapping that he doesn't need any help but Geno knows he will get a call the first night of a whimpering and desperate Sid

👀

"Stop scenting me," Sid snaps the second Zhenya sits down.

Zhenya rolls his eyes. He hasn't even caught his breath from his last shift. Fuck this altitude, and honestly, fuck the Avs too, Sid's cozy little friendship with MacKinnon be damned.

"I'm serious," Sid continues, scooting down the bench to make room for Rusty, who practically dives over the boards to avoid a too many men. Zhenya obediently scoots along with him, grabbing Rusty around the waist to keep him steady.

"Thanks," Rusty wheezes, and Zhenya pats his shoulder before turning back to Sid.

Sid's glaring at him. He hates being ignored under normal circumstances, and it only gets worse when he's careening towards heat—a fact that Sid is strenuously denying.

"Sorry," Zhenya says, making his eyes big and ducking his head. "Smell good, Sid, can't help it."

Sid's eyes narrow. After so many years, he's wise to Zhenya's tricks, and he's apparently not far enough into pre-heat to fall for them anyway. Zhenya adjusts his mental calculations forward a day. "I don't know what you think you're smelling, but it's not me. I'm not due for another two weeks, and we talked about this. I don't need you this time."

"Okay," Zhenya says placidly, tapping Sid's knee. Sid's cute when he gets all worked up and indignant like this.

"Hey—" Sid sputters, probably picking up Zhenya's amusement, but then coach is tapping his line in, so Sid can't do anything but glare as he swings over the boards.

Zhenya watches as he swings a big arc towards the goal, changing direction so abruptly that the d-man shadowing him loses an edge and hits the ice. Sid turns to snap at the guy, and Zhenya readjusts his math again, this time back a few hours.

Pissing Sid off always makes things move faster.

-

They drop the game in OT, but that's okay. They played well, better than they have since the trade deadline, and the shock of losing Jake is finally starting to wear off. Sid doesn't look hollowed-out whenever he looks to his left any more, and Bunting is the exact type of yappy, determined presence on Zhenya's wing that he's always played best with. The postseason is still a reach, but suddenly the games they're playing seem like they mean something again, and that's all Zhenya wants, really.

Playoffs are nice, but Zhenya's old enough now that he doesn't live and die by each individual season anymore. If he can keep his production up for a few more years, avoid major injury and quiet the people who constantly call for him to be traded, he'll be happy.

Well. That, and getting Sid to finally admit that what they've been doing for nearly two decades now isn't just friends helping each other out. But Zhenya can be patient on that front.

Seeing Jake in Carolina colors is hard, and Zhenya discreetly wipes his eyes during the tribute video. Sid doesn't bother, staring up at the enormous new jumbotron with shiny eyes. The win makes it easier to stomach, though, and Jake stops by the locker room after the game, lingering well past when the Hurricanes' bus must have left for the hotel.

He and Sid talk for a long, long time, tucked away in a hallway while Rusty and Zhenya linger, ready to head off any media that comes this direction. They're left alone, though, and when Jake finally slips past them, he's knuckling at his eyes. Zhenya politely doesn't mention it when he pulls Jake into one last hug.

Sid's marching for the parking lot, and Zhenya has to hustle to catch up with him. When he draws even, he practically trips over his feet—Sid smells ripe, fertile and alluring, like he's minutes from dropping into heat. Surely he feels it by now.

Sid slides him a sharp glare. "Don't fucking start," he mutters, angling away when Zhenya leans towards him. "You were right, okay? But it doesn't mean anything."

Zhenya takes a deep inhale and consciously steps to the side, giving Sid his space. "Call if you need," is all he says, cutting towards his car and speeding up before he can give into the impulse to manhandle Sid back to his house and his bed and keep him there.

"I won't!" Sid calls across the garage. Zhenya shakes his head.

-

It doesn't always go this way. Sometimes Sid invites him back, sends him texts like i think it's starting soon and would you mind...? as if any alpha in their right mind would turn Sidney Crosby in heat down. He gets squirrelly when it happens too many times in a row, though, acts like Zhenya's going to hold him down and bite his claim into Sid's neck without permission, and tries to put distance between them.

It never lasts, though.

Zhenya's in his pajamas and glasses, settling in with his Kindle, when his phone rings.

"G," Sid whimpers over the line, and Zhenya sits upright, the sound of a distressed omega plucking at his instincts even at a distance. "G, where are you?"

Zhenya fists his hand in his duvet. "You say you don't want," he says carefully, listening to Sid's gasps, wondering if he'd managed to get something from his toybox or if he fell into it so fast that he's using his hand. Sid doesn't take care of himself like Zhenya would if they were mated, and he's come over more than once to Sid on his belly and whimpering because his own fingers don't get him right.

That's what Zhenya's always been for.

"I didn't mean it," Sid whines, voice muffled. "G, I need you."

Zhenya pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Not even ten, and they have an off-day tomorrow. "Sid, you say I stay home this time," he says, but he's throwing his blanket back and getting up. "You change mind?"

"I was lying," Sid moans, frustration edging into his voice. "I was...G, please, you..."

He's falling deeper into it now. Zhenya hesitates; Sid had sounded so sure, more than usual, but...

"Geno," Sid says, practically a sob, and the decision is made. There's only so much his own instincts will allow him to ignore, and Sid calls him every time—if he didn't want Zhenya coming over, he shouldn't be calling.

It takes Zhenya a few tries to remember Sid's new door code, but when he steps inside, the smell of Sid's heat practically bowls him over. Zhenya has to stop and breathe, adjust to the overpowering sugar-and-marine salt permeating the air, before he can walk without stumbling to Sid's bedroom.

"Oh, Sid," he says, pausing at the doorway.

"Please," Sid begs. He hadn't gotten to his toys after all, and he's practically twisted in a pretzel, two fingers stuffed inside himself while his other hand strips his dick. He's come once already by the mess on his stomach, but his dick is so hard it's purple, and his face is twisted in agony, not pleasure.

"Shh," Zhenya croons, voice dropping to alpha-register all on its own. He's across the room and stripping his clothes off before he's even registered it, but when he gets hands on Sid's torso Sid takes in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.

"G," he mumbles, looking up at Zhenya through tear-damp eyelashes. "You left me."

"I'm sorry," Zhenya murmurs, gentling Sid onto his back, pushing at his shoulder until his hand slides free. His fingers are shiny with his own slick, and Zhenya pauses to suck them clean, eyelids fluttering at the taste. Sid watches him, chest heaving, and when Zhenya lets Sid's fingers drop from his mouth, Sid trails them down Zhenya's face and chest, resting his hand over Zhenya's heart. "I'm here now," Zhenya says, leaning down to kiss Sid. "I'll take care of you."

"Yes," Sid sighs as Zhenya slides into him, letting his legs butterfly out and his head loll to one side.

Zhenya stares at Sid's neck, exposed and there, and practically bites through his lip, fucking Sid harder. He wants to bite Sid so, so badly, has for years, but Sid always pulls back just when they're on the precipice of turning this into something more, always ices Zhenya out when it starts to feel too serious, and Zhenya's not going to push—it has to be Sid's decision.

Something of what he's feeling must be leaking through, because Sid opens his eyes and looks at him. His eyes are blurry; he's deep in it now, and every exhale is a half-purr as Zhenya's knot starts to grow and catch at him with every thrust. "Mmmm," he moans, the perfect picture of an omega submitting to his alpha, but the way he tilts his head to expose his neck is all purposeful, as is the way he coyly looks at Zhenya.

"Sid," Zhenya groans, grinding his teeth. He can't stop himself from dropping to his forearms and getting his nose into the crook of Sid's neck, licking frantically over Sid's scent glands. The smell of them blooms in the room, heady and intoxicating, and Zhenya's thrusts go ragged and desperate as his knot swells. "Sid, please." He feels drunk, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, opening his mouth around the meaty muscle where Sid's neck meets his shoulder.

Sid's hand is at the back of his head, but he's pushing, not pulling Zhenya back, and Zhenya's teeth dig into Sid's skin. His "bite me" is barely audible, but it's the loudest thing Zhenya's ever heard, echoing over the roaring of blood in his ears and their breath.

He bites. The world falls away.

-

When Zhenya swims back to consciousness, his knot still hasn't gone down. Somehow, Sid had managed to get them on their sides, and he's petting over Zhenya's sweaty back, nuzzled up against Zhenya's chest and humming.

"Sid?" Zhenya croaks, eyes flying open when he remembers. "Oh, fuck, Sid, I—"

"Shh, it's okay." It's Sid's turn to soothe Zhenya, purring until Zhenya's heart slows down. Zhenya's nostrils flare as he inhales, and all he can smell is happy, contented omega.

"We..." Zhenya's floundering, head spinning as he tries to put the pieces together.

"I asked you to do it, bud," Sid says. He sounds quiet, but sure. "I wanted it. I was..." He sighs, and Zhenya can feel him shrug. "We can talk about it later, but...I was talking to Jake, and he said, you know, we're lucky—it doesn't matter what happens, because in the end we always have each other. And then I got home, and I was thinking about how he's right. You've had plenty of chances to leave, and you never did. And you always come when I need you. So...it felt stupid, to be pushing you away still."

"Sid," Zhenya groans, half infuriated and half overcome with fondness. If they weren't still knotted together he'd pin Sid down and bite at his sensitive, ticklish stomach as punishment until Sid was laughing and kicking him away. "You say to me when you think these things, like, don't make me come run over so late, scare me like I do what you don't want."

Sid shrugs again, and now he smells smug. "You always come when I call," he says, and Zhenya can't even argue that point.

He wouldn't want to, anyway.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part fifteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: another happy birthday post for @that-veela-girl bc i love her and thank you so so much for supporting me and reading my stuff and helping me with it too AH it just means so much to me!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You didn't talk about a single important thing in the hour that followed. You had changed into more comfortable day clothes, something Coryo instantly thought made you look more like yourself, and somehow made your way outside onto the back porch swing.

"Did you win your prize?" You ask, staring out over the meadow behind your home as you gently rock the bench back and forth with one foot on the ground.

"I did." He smiles, unable to take his eyes off of you. You catch him staring as you turn to look at him, an excited smile on your face.

"Did you really?" You grin, excitedly reaching out and placing your hands on his thigh, hoping that it wasn't a joke.

"I did, yeah." He confirms, chuckling. "Highbottom was very against it, but the odds weighed against him." Coryo shrugs.

"Oh, Coryo, that's wonderful. Congratulations." You pat his leg before removing your hands, retreating them to your own lap.

"I owe it all to you."

"Why is that, anyway?" You ask, eyes once again focussed on the wind forcing the grass this way and that. "I knew you needed people to like me, but you never told me why."

He lets out a breath while he delays his response. "Well... The task they gave us was to turn the tributes into something people could get attached to- something people wanted to watch." He explains. "You made it easy. I just needed to get people to see you for who you were. To see that you were worth watching. That you were special." He shrugs, looking down at his lap and picking at his nails. "It helped that Sejanus's family paid out the prize, I think." He chuckles.

"Ah." You nod, not wanting to think about it anymore but still glad you got answers. "Is he upset with me?"

"Sejanus?" Coryo asks and you hum. "No, not one bit." He promises.

"I-I mean..." You stammer, taking a deep breath. "About Marcus?"

"No." Coryo repeats, shaking his head. "He left before the games started, he didn't see what happened. I explained it to him before we even left the arena, though. He felt bad for even thinking for a moment you had done something wrong."

"You're sure?" You ask quietly, eyes brimming red as you look over at him. He nods. He wants to reach out and touch you, hold your hand, but he's unsure if that's even okay. Even after what happened the night before the games, now you were treating him very much as a friend. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he would leave those questions for another day.

"Positive."

"You don't speak of your Dean favourably." You comment, wanting to change the subject. "Why? He was very good to me."

"You met him?"

"He saw me off at the train station." You nod. "Gave me some cash, promised me that compact would make it back to you."

"Oh..." He mumbles. "He just has some vendetta against me. I don't know why."

"I see." You nod. "That makes sense... He told me that I was lucky I survived you. It was odd."

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek, and it was his turn to look out over the scenery while you watched him. "He's always hated me. I've done nothing to him."

"I did not think you would." You defend quickly, the air becoming thick around you. You answered too promptly- he would know that you were afraid. Maybe think you were lying. Even as he sat next to you, smiling more than you had ever seen him do it before, you couldn't look at him the same.

Coryo can sense that you still don't want to talk about the games in any major capacity, and it was in his best interest to not bring up Bobbin, so he changes the subject. "Your cat is adorable, by the way." He can tell that makes you comfortable enough to relax again. He missed you looking at him.

"Isn't he?" You smile, shifting your gaze from him to the back door, hoping to catch a glimpse of your pet in the small window. "He's a sweetheart."

"I'm just glad he didn't attack me." Coryo jokes.

"What?" You laugh. "Why would he?"

"I don't know! I've never had a pet. They scare me a little."

"Oh, Coriolanus Snow is afraid of a cat?" You tease him. "I didn't know that about you."

"Y/N! Lucy Gray is here!" Your mother calls from inside the house and you're quickly distracted, clumsily standing up from the bench, leaving it swinging unsteadily underneath him.

"Coming!" You call out, grabbing his hand to pull him up with you. "You must meet her, she's my best friend. If you think I'm good company you'll see she's all the better."

"I've met her." He replies, allowing you to pull him up from the bench anyway.

"You have?" You ask, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, she helped Sejanus and I find you."

"Sejanus is here?" You smile wide and he nods, a little confused.

"Yeah, he came with-" He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're moving quickly into the house and to the living room where your mother had let them in, leaving the door swinging open behind you.

"Sejanus!" You call out as you see him, almost tackling him in a hug- armed with the confidence in Coryo's honesty that he didn't hate you.

He laughs, catching you in his arms. "Y/N, it's so good to see you..."

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek as he follows you in. He wasn't met with a hug, or near the same amount of excitement. Maybe he underestimated how close you and Sejanus had become while he was stuck in the hospital ward after the bombing.

He can see the three, evenly distributed scars on the back of your leg. Healing, but still bruised all this time later. He wonders if it still hurts.

"How I have missed you- how are you doing?" You grin, pulling away from the hug and running your hands up and down Sejanus's arms.

"I'm pretty good! I've always wanted to see Twelve, so now I finally had a good excuse." He jokes, looking down at you. "How are you, though? That's much more important."

Coryo takes a moment to notice Lucy Gray staring at him. "I take it your hello didn't look like that?" She whispers, forcing him to relax his facial expression to hide any disdain.

"It did." He lies.

"Oh! My mistake then." She replies, clearly not buying it.

He thought you were treating him like a friend, but if this is how you treated friends, he obviously did not meet the mark.

"We found you guys a place to stay." Lucy Gray continues, watching you and Sejanus chat.

"Thank you." Coryo nods at her, but he's still watching you, eyes taking up and down your body, your hair, your skin- but always finding a home on your injured calf.

"Yeah, of course." She hums, arms crossed over her chest. "She'll come around, you know."

You turn, finally ready to greet Lucy Gray. "I'm sorry, I didn't even say hello to you." You giggle, giving her a gentle, less urgent hug.

"That's quite alright, Y/N/N. You see me every day." She laughs, gently rubbing your back.

"And it still doesn't feel like enough." You respond.

"I agree." She hums, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as you smile at her. Lucy Gray is the only one who knows what you're going through, the only one besides Lennox who knows what your nightmares are like, to have you cry with your head in her lap in her backyard or even at the lake where you used to share the best days of your lives. You felt like you ruined it all, but you felt seen with her. Always.

"Lucy Gray found us a place to stay for the month." Sejanus tells his friend.

"I heard." He mumbles, fighting back the green monster bellowing behind his eyes.

"Yes! Right, I'll get you guys there and settled. I'm sure Y/N is just dying for her afternoon nap." Lucy Gray says, gently squeezing your shoulders. You nod. Even though your visit with Coryo was pleasant, it still placed a weight just behind your ribs you couldn't describe. You needed a break, and your best friend could see it.

"Yes, well, can't get enough of my bed these days..." You joke, but it doesn't come out as lighthearted as you intended, all context considered. You clear your throat. "We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

"Certainly." Lucy Gray smiles, pulling you into a quick side hug.

Coryo watches, avoiding reacting to what he saw happening in front of him. With your mother, and now with Lucy Gray. No one here, apparently, just hums in confusion or looks at you funny when you say something that hardly makes sense. They know you. They understand every word; or at least they pretend they do. They answer accordingly, like it was just a normal bit of conversation. There was no one else quite like you, and he was lucky to get to hear it. He knew that, but they knew it first. By the time the games had started, by the time you won and left, Coriolanus had started picking up the habit as well. You weren't entertainment, leaving something to question after every conversation, it was you. All you. And he loved you for it.

"How long will you be here?" You ask, returning your attention to him now. Finally.

"A month." Coryo answers promptly, smiling at you. At first, he thought a month was a long time until the next train left, but now, it didn't feel like nearly enough.

"Wonderful!" You smile, clapping excitedly. "So I will most definitely see you again."

"It's you I'm here to see." He grins, a pink flush spreading on his cheeks.

It matches yours almost perfectly. "Good." You nod. "I'm glad." You almost choke over the words and hope he doesn't notice.

"That reminds me! Lucy Gray's show tonight, are you going?" Sejanus asks you and you glance nervously over at her. It seems to Coryo that his friend was too eager to engulf himself in local culture, when they were supposed to be there to see you.

"Oh, you guys are certainly welcome but..." She looks back at you as she speaks, silently communicating with you on the best way to say this. You just nod. You trust her to speak for you. "Y/N typically doesn't come. It's nothin' new to her, any of my music she wants to hear I can sing for her anytime." She smiles.

"Coryo?" Sejanus asks him now, and he looks at you the same way you looked at Lucy Gray.

You sense his hesitation. Clearly, he will only go if you do. "You know what? I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. I'll come."

Lucy Gray looks surprised, but very pleased. "You will?"

"Sure, why not." She knows why not, but she won't dig any deeper into it in front of the boys.

"Alrighty then! We better get going, I've left rehearsals for long enough. The Covey is probably out searchin' by now." Lucy Gray says, waving the boys to pass her to get to the door.

"Are you sure?" She whispers to you once they cannot hear. "Don't feel pressured."

"I want to spend time with them." You whisper back. "I'll be fine."

She nods, a look of worry in her eyes as she hugs you again.

"Coryo?" You call as you pull away, walking past her to get to the front entrance of your small home.

His head whips up at your voice calling his name, looking at you expectantly. "Will you..." You start, and Coryo watches closely as you begin wringing your hands together in front of yourself.

Yes. Whatever you need, yes.

"If it's not too much trouble, can you come get me before you go? I don't like to walk at night..."

"Of course." He answers without hesitation. "I'll be back later, then."

"Thank you." You smile, cheeks red from the embarrassing question. "I'll see you guys tonight."

You had your so desired afternoon nap after that. Your mom came and laid in bed with you, gushing over how Coriolanus was such a good guest. A kind soul, she said. She could see it in his eyes, apparently, and hear it in the way he spoke about you. You wanted to believe her, but you really weren't sure.

You couldn't help but see him differently after he killed Bobbin. It wasn't necessarily that he killed him, it was the overkill that really haunted you. That last swing after the threat was so clearly subdued. He didn't look like himself anymore. It kept you up at night- and when it didn't, it was a frequent event in your nightmares.

You woke with a jolt from your nap, picturing your mentor standing over you with his blond curls falling over his eyes. You had a hand out to try protect yourself as you slid back across the cold, cemented ground of the arena. This was a common nightmare you had since you returned.

So when you got home from work only to see him standing in your living room, with your mother who knew nothing but the good things about him, you could have cried. Screamed. You thought for a moment that maybe you were sleeping and the dreams had adapted into something worse, but no. He was there. And he was kind, and so happy to see you that the boy you spent most nights remembering seemed incredibly unlikely to exist. When you looked into his eyes, as he silently begged you not to run, he was just Coryo.

Quick footsteps in the hallway turn your attention to the door. "You alright?" Your brother asks, hand braced on the frame to stop himself as if he had been moving too quickly to do it on his own.

"I'm fine." You nod, taking a deep breath and swallowing back your fear again.

Worried, Lennox looks back down the hall before coming into your room, closing the door behind himself. You move over in your shared bed, giving him his spot back as he slides in next to you.

"Nightmare?" He asks quietly, laying on his side to face you.

You just nod.

"Was it... about him?"

You want to lie. Tell him that no, it was just the games in general, but you knew he wouldn't buy it. Not after answering the door to see the boy whose name you mumbled in your sleep, begging for mercy standing in front of him.

That was the reason you had to tell your brother in the first place.

"No, I- Coryo, please..." Your brother hears you shifting under the blanket next to him, watching as Tybalt's ears perk up from your feet. "Please... Don't!"

"Y/N?" He mumbles, rolling over. "You okay?"

Then he realizes as he sees your eyes scrunched shut that you're still asleep. Nightmares he had dealt with for almost a week now, but tonight was the first night your mother didn't insist on sleeping in the room with you, leaving him on the floor while she took his spot. He had a suspicion that your dad was doing the same, just outside the door. But this was the first time you spoke.

"Y/N." He sits up, grabbing your shoulder to try and shake you awake. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare."

You sit up so fast it makes him jump back, the scream that fell from your lips made his heart race even faster. "Y/N?" He asks, quickly crawling back into the bed and trying to touch you, help you, but you're pushing yourself back against the wall, grasping at the sheets as you looked around. It takes you a moment to realize where you are- home. Safe.

Your brother turns his head as your parents come rushing in to comfort you. He doesn't say anything about you talking until you finally settle them enough with your calming smile, assuring them that you're fine and they should go back to bed. That they needed their sleep, while your own cheeks were still red and stained with tears.

He doesn't say a word until he's sure he's heard them go back to bed, staring at you as you lay back down under your quilt and your chest is still rising and falling so fast he's wondering how you're even getting any oxygen to your blood.

"You were talking to him." Lennox whispers, and you just turn your head to look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, voice still hoarse from the scream.

"What did he do to you?" By now, Coriolanus Snow or "Coryo", was a common name in your household. You only spoke of him favourably this last week you'd been home and even before that. That he helped you, saved you.

"Nothing, bud. It was just a dream." Now you're hushing him, reaching over and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.

You can tell your brother doesn't believe you, but he doesn't know how to ask. What to ask, how to go about it without setting you off or hearing an answer that makes his blood boil so intensely that he jumps on the next Capitol bound freight train to do something you would never forgive him for.

"He didn't hurt me. I promise." You whisper again, sensing his fear. "I just..." You cut yourself off with a sigh. "Can you keep a secret?"

"You know I can." He promises.

You nod, small smile falling on your lips that's illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window. "Do you remember that boy from District Eight? Bobbin?" You whisper and he nods, hanging on every word.

"I watched Coriolanus kill him." You continue, assessing his reaction; confusion and shock settling in all at once. "And it was... Scary. He was already dead, but he hit him again and the look in his eyes I-..." You slightly shake your head. "It wasn't him. That was the last time I saw him. Coryo, I mean."

"How'd he get in?" Your brother whispers. "What was he doing?" It's all he could think to ask. Maybe he had gone to try and save you- to break you out. If you had told him that an hour ago, he would have believed it based on how you spoke about him.

"Sejanus, my other friend, snuck in. He brought bread to scatter over his tribute, and Coryo had to get him out safe." You explain. "He did, but not until after..." You sniff, wiping your eyes with the sheet.

"It's like you didn't know him." Your brother says, fully understanding.

"Yeah." You reply quietly. Lennox had always understood you. "I don't know if he was ever really my friend. If he's not the person I thought he was."

"I'm sorry." Your brother settles on.

"Nature teaches beasts to know their friends."

"You are not a beast." He whispers, brow furrowed.

You smile sadly at him. "You should get back to sleep."

"Yeah." You whisper, looking away and out the window at the sun beginning to set. Coryo would be here soon, and suddenly you were regretting agreeing to go out at all. "It was about him."

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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[meidui]

stevetony sex pollen fic recs

for @fluffystevefest day 5: aphrodisiac 💕

Aphrodisiac by @kandisheek

Steve gets hit with some sort of sex pollen. It must be the universe's idea of a joke to let Captain America die from horniness and make Tony his only chance at survival.

Simple Biology by @stark---contrast

“God, I'm sweating bullets in this thing,” Tony said, already unzipping his undersuit. “It’s not just me, right? It feels like a sauna in here.” And Steve's resolve crumbled by each inch of sweat-slick skin that was revealed.

Or, Tony gets hit by sex pollen. Fortunately, Steve is there to help him out.

the thorn in his side by @fohatic (or @moon-language-0 until justice is served)

It had been there from the beginning. There was no end to it, that mutual wanting between them—forever unresolved—that had grown so terribly soft and unbearably romantic with age...

But there was an unspoken rule between them, as well: an understanding that they could never act on it.

That is, until an alien parasite's brood nest gets violently dislodged from its Chitauri Leviathan host during the Battle of New York, dispersing its contents directly over two time-jumping tourists who are very much in the wrong place and the wrong timeline.

All the Love You Hold and Hide by Mireille

On a mission, Steve triggers a booby trap that turns out to be a skeevy sex curse, of the "fuck or die" variety.

Tony volunteers as tribute.

Exposed by @festiveferret @sirsapling

Of all the people Steve could be stuck with while this agonizing drug surged through him, of course, it had to be Tony Stark.

I Want to Hurt You by @festiveferret

How could Steve ever look Tony in the eye again? He loved Tony, so desperately, but he didn't know how to come back from this. He didn't know how many apologies would be enough to make up for what he'd done.

He could still feel Tony's soft skin giving to dark bruises under his fingers.

Side Effects by @elimymoons

"So what I'd like to propose," Tony continued on, "is for you to let me help you out a little, yeah? We'll work off some of this energy, some of this adrenaline, and you don't have to worry about hurting yourself anymore, okay?"

Steve's in a bit of trouble. Tony wants to help him out. Sexily.

Emergency Contact by @valdomarx

Steve has been exposed to sex pollen, and for some reason Tony is the person who's been called in to assist him.

Tony knows that he can't take advantage of Steve in this desperate state, but it's awfully hard to remember that when Steve is rubbing up against him and describing all of his deepest fantasies in excruciating detail.

Double Blind by @loftyperch

Steve signs up for a drug trial. Naughty side effects ensue.

Long Distance Relationship by @cookinguptales

So what do you do when your boyfriend gets sex pollened and you're thousands of miles away? The correct answer here is Extremis sex. Obviously.

Messes We Make by @navaan

Commander Rogers locks himself in his office with a sex-pollend Tony, he's not exactly back on speaking terms with. Things get out of hand.

calling (screaming) your name by orphan_account

in which the whole team gets vapored during battle and it affects everyone differently. Tony finds out, first-hand, how it affects Steve.

Dishonest John's Special Rates by @meh-guh

Steve runs afoul of sex pollen and Tony reaps the benefit

honey from your hive by @meidui

"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?"

"We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."

[sports-on-sundays]

It kills me to see all the requested: nope! In your fanfics

How about, reader struggles to sleep due to the stress of her work & travelling so he comforts her and helps her sleep? I’ll take any f1 driver or barca player.

help me sleep / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: censored cussing, sobbing, work problems, stress, anxiety

Requested?: YEs! yEs!!!!! YES, MATE, IT IS REQUESTED!!!!

Author's Note: First request, baby!!! I love you so much bestie! <3 I'm so happy you saw my subtle-not-subtle begs for requests 😭!!! And I hope it's okay I chose Pedri; the other day I was having major I-Miss-Pedri syndrome that we've all been having for the past however many months (I don't even want to think about how long it has been) so I decided as a tribute to my boy, the first request on my blog should be him.

I say 'tribute' as if he's dead or something 😭

I feel like I'm acting way too excited about this request for it to be normal, but that's okay! I'm happy, and I owe it all to you! Now, let's get into this-

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock went the clock on the wall. That stupid old clock that wasn't even set to the right time. You sat on the living room couch, at 2:34 A.M., dealing with work sh*t.

You walked in this evening, feeling ready to literally collapse, and was greeted by your boyfriend as the welcoming committee. It was sweet. He had bought you your favorite treat and flowers and everything and let you snack on it. Had a little snuggle with you. And the moment you stood up, telling him you had to unpack from your long work trip, he pulled you back down on the couch. "No way," he had said. "You're tired. Your bags can wait 'til tomorrow. For now, just relax."

And he really had convinced you. He really had. Soon after that, you had gone to your bedroom and gotten snuggled in together, and within minutes, you were fast asleep.

Only to wake up three hours later. You stared at the ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes, unable to fall back asleep as the stress of work and everything you hadn't gotten done and needed to get done crushed you.

Realizing there was no chance of you falling back to sleep now, you slipped out of bed as slowly as you could, as to not wake up your boyfriend, and quietly walked (or rather, stumbled, because of the extreme lack of sleep) to the living room.

And so now you sit on the couch, barely alive, feeling like a lump on a log but on steroids, dealing with work sh*t.

Suddenly, you get a message from one of your co-workers, though. Bad news... You click on it, and in the moment, with everything you've already gone through within the last seventy-two hours, this is enough.

You swallow, your phone slipping out of your hands. I'm trying so hard. How could my job be on the line? Your head falls into your hands, and you let out a angry groan, letting out quick, little breaths.

God, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. I need help. Please, I need help. I just can't keep doing this any longer. I can't do this anymore.

Your eyes well up, and that turns into a tear. And that tear turns into another one. And those tears turn into crying. And crying into weeping. Tired, pathetic, pitiful weeping, until you're flat-out sobbing, unable to control it. The world spins as another glowing text comes in on your phone on the rug and your laptop shows more emails and the bags in the corner of the room are still full of your things from the work trip and and and and and...

Suddenly, strong, warm arms around your trembling body. You lean into your boyfriend's body, blubbering between gasps, "Pedri you weren't supposed to wake up... I know you're going through a lot too... I don't want to stress you out... I'm sorry..."

"Shhh," he soothes, rubbing your back. "Do you really think you're on your own? My love, we help and love each other. You can be vulnerable. I know it's hard. Don't you think for a second that I don't want to help you."

"This isn't your problem..."

"Your problem is my problem, because I love you," he mutters close to your ear. He gently closes your laptop and powers off your phone. "You don't need to worry about that right now."

"Pedri-" You grip his shirt, looking at him slightly manically. "Yes I do. I could lose my job."

His jaw tightens, but he says, "What you're doing is impossible. If you lose your job because it's too hard, then maybe you shouldn't be in this job. And it's not because you're a failure. It's because you're expected to do much more than anyone should be able to handle. If you lose your job, I'll be the first to support you until you can get a new one. Okay? But we don't even need to worry about that right now, okay?"

"But-"

Suddenly he takes your wet, tear-stained cheeks in his hands, and looks at you earnestly right in the eyes. "But right now, you need to calm down. Come on; why don't we go to the bedroom, okay?"

"Uh- y- yeah," you get up, feeling terrible at how much a mess you are. Pedri walks to the bedroom with you, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. He fetches a damp rag and gently wipes your face with the cool towel. You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Pedri pulls the blanket up to your torso. You lean back, sitting upright on the blanket.

"Can I get anything for you?" he asks after he finishes, taking your hand gently.

You shake your head 'no'. "Just sit down. All I need is you."

He nods and slips onto the bed and under the blanket next to you. Straight away, you lean your head on his shoulder and clutch his hand in yours. "Y/n, you know that it'll be okay," he murmurs. Not even a question. A fact. You know that you'll be okay.

"But Pedri, what if..."

"No 'what if's right now, okay?" He pulls you closer to you, rubbing your shoulders. You sit quietly together for a while, before Pedri slowly sinks into a laying down position, pulling you down with him. You snuggle close to him, resting your head on his chest. When you yawn, he says, "You're tired. Anything I can do to help you sleep?"

You breathe gently. "Just... talk to me."

He nods and starts whispering. At first, you listen to the sweet little things he's saying as he gently strokes your hair, but soon you're too tired to comprehend them. Soon your eyes are fluttering shut, and your mind is switching from daytime thoughts to nighttime dreaming.

Within your dream, you feel a soft kiss on your forehead and Pedri's perfect sweet-as-honey voice murmur, "Buenas noches, mi amor."

[moonligsposts]

Finnick Odair x reader

And I fell to the ground… I couldn't discerned the environment around me as my eyes could barely stay open due to the sun's rays.

Not far from where I lay helpless, there was the body of the tribute from the second district, without his head.

The fight had been to the death and that feeling of numbness, caused by I don't know what, hadn't helped me at all. I don't even know how I managed to raise my sword, since I was on my knees in front of him partially unable to breathe, and manage to complete a blow that managed to decapitate him.

Before entering the arena I would never have considered myself capable of carrying out such an atrocious action, but once you’re inside you can't wait to leave, but in my case dying was not allowed: my family is waiting for me at home, the last wish of a little girl from the seventh district was “Please, live your life for me too”, and lastly I promised someone that I would come back for him.

15 days ago

“Don't you dare leave me alone, there, without you. I'm begging you, darling. I can't live without you anymore.” My hand caresses his cheek; he is sitting in a chair with his arms around my waist.

“Finnick, you were a wonderful experience…”

“You were everything, you are everything.” His hands caress my back; I approach his lips and kiss them.

“I'll do anything for you, Y/n. My sweet girl, my sweet Y/n…”

“But please, not that… I don't want you to do that kind of things, Finn. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you give yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you, neither your body. You’re gold… they don't deserve you.”

“And I don't deserve you, my love. I don't deserve you..."

“Don’t say shit… instead take me, Finn. Take me in your arms until the sun rises…”

“I was wanting for it for all this time, Y/n…”

We moved to the bed where we remained until the next day, the day we would have to separate without the certainty of being able to see each other again.

He was lying on his back and I was with my head on his chest.

“I think I love, Y/n.” I didn't react to those words; I didn't move an inch. I couldn't say I loved him because tomorrow I won't wake up knowing that he will be by my side but knowing that tomorrow will be either a goodbye or a see you later...

“Finnick…” I whisper softly and with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, honey. I said I think I love you… I'm not sure, yet.” His little laugh penetrated my heart… «I do love you» this was all I wanted to tell him but I wasn't brave enough.

Before it was too late, they took me from the arena and I was brought back to the Capitol, fresh as a rose: they had washed and restored every single remnant of the island, as if those 15 days had never happened.

My head stopped spinning, my eyes could see clearly again, my belly was intact again...

“We're here,” a woman informed me.

I stood up and felt neither fatigue nor pain, yet my right leg was torn until a few hours ago.

When the door of the plane opened, I almost rushed down, looking only for those sea green eyes that have encouraged me several times even from afar.

We had landed right on the roof of the building where I had been staying in the days before the Hunger Games.

As soon as I looked out of the plane's steps, a voice shouted my name.

“Yn!”

I turned towards his voice and saw him: a Greek God, breathtakingly beautiful, looking only in my direction.

I started running, feeling the need to throw myself into his arms.

How I missed… my mentor. Even if within a few days he had become something more and I had only understood it in the arena, when at the end of my strength his gifts fell from the sky, always accompanied by a note: “you're doing great, honey. ” “Keep fighting, sweet girl.” “Survive, baby.”

Every time I've got his messages I couldn't help but smile like a child.

Finally the meters separated us disappeared and I was finally in the safest place I could wish for: in the arms of Finnick Odair.

“Thanks, Finnick. You saved my life..." I whispered against his chest: his hands were one around my hips and the other immersed in my hair.

“No, you saved my life by winning that fucking game. How could I live without you?” He said leaving a kiss on my forehead. I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his eyes: beautiful but a little shiny.

“Finnick…”

“Yes, honey?” His hand moves to my check.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Always, baby. I will always be by your side from now on, Y/n, I promise.”

Our embrace melted after a while, his hand took hold of mine and we went inside.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He said hesitantly, his confidence had disappeared: and he was only acting like that because he didn't want to force me to do anything.

“Of course, I wanna be with you tonight and the days after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that… forever, Finnick.” A dazzling smile lit up his face: his lips placed a kiss on my hand which he held tightly in his.

“I love you, Y/n. You don't know how much.” My heart melted and I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around him. But he, with incredible speed, lifted me off my feet, placing my legs around his hips.

“You're coming into my room tonight, little girl.” Whisper in my ear “You want this, right?” I nodded. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him…

So I was carried into his room.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He wisher and all I knew was that all my body was going on fire.

“Finnick, I'm yours, do to me what you want, I love you.” And this was the phrase of affirmation that man, as beautiful as the sun, needed to free himself from all that tension that he had to endure in those long days.

His lips ran down on my neck licking and sucking it. His hands reached up and unhooked my bra from over the sweatshirt I was wearing. My hands slid under his shirt, lifting it up, revealing his defined muscles.

“Do you like what you're seeing?” My response was only a muffled moan which, however, made him more excited.

While he continued to kiss my neck, he pressed me against the wall, I couldn't breathe: my desire for him was palpable and he was eager to have... me.

I took off my shirt and he threw away my bra, taking one breast in his hand: he squeezed it and rubbed his finger against the already swollen nipple.

Our mouths were one inside the other, and with his tongue he was devouring me: he sucked my lower lip, bit it and I tried to keep up with him but it was useless... I wasn't on his level.

Suddenly from the wall I found myself lying on the bed with Finnick pulling down my pants... caressing every inch of skin that he discovered little by little.

Once the trousers were off, he threw them across the room. He returned to my lips, careful to make his cock touch, hard, against my vagina.

I started lifting my pelvis moving it left and right, feeling his erection getting bigger and bigger.

“Careful, darling…” Finnick grunted, lifting his head and my movements became faster.

A guttural moan escaped him from those lips on which I rushed to devour them. His fingers reached the elastic of the panty and snapped it.

“Beg me…” And I wasn't even able to breathe let alone talking.

“Finnick, I want you, please…” with his palm he rubbed me underneath and I opened my legs more. I wanted every single part of my body.

He walked away from me, undid his belt, and took off his pants and boxers. He came back on me, leaving a nice mark on my collarbone as I raised my pelvis to touch his member.

“Stay down, Y/n.”

“Finnick…” his name was like a prayer, a cry addressed to him to speed up the process… but he didn't seem to care about my inability to hold back any longer. I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks and he was making me suffer before satisfying me, filling me up.

His cock moved away from the center of my legs and Finnick positioned himself right there.

“Let's see..." his finger traced a vertical line from bottom to top. "How wet you are, good girl." His head lowered and the contact of his hot tongue against my wetness made a cry escape my mouth...

“Yes, baby, let me hear you…” he said making me vibrate. He pinched my clit with his teeth and my hand dipped into his hair, pushing him closer and closer.

After exploring the entire area with his tongue, he began to make circular movements: fast, insatiable.

“Finnick…”

Between various moans and whispers of his name, I felt his finger entering me.

“Honey, you're so tight…” he said this time raising his head.

“I love it…” he smirked and started to move his finger up and down, curling it. Meanwhile, with the other hand he took care of the clit: rubbing and pinching it.

“More…” I wishered.

“As you want.” He put his middle finger to his lips. “Will you do it for me?” I nodded and took him between my lips, sliding my tongue along the length of him.

“Nice technique, love.” He smirked and finally I had two fingers of him in me.

I could easily come if he will keep going like that…

“Fin, please, I’m… close.” Another prayer came out of my lips. He just smiled and, finally, removed his fingers and brought his cock against my entrance.

It was so big, so bulky. I wasn't even sure if I could have him in me.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much painful…”

I wasn't scared at all, even if that was my first time and he knew it, all that I wanted was him.

Finally I felt his length in me, he entered slowly and his movements were the softest. As my walls adapted to his presence, he increased the intensity of the movements and I began to accompany them with my hips. And just when we reached a certain speed, my body contracted with numerous shocks and I came between moans and crying of his name.

As soon as my juice wet his member I saw a sparkle in his eyes and his movements became harder, more violent. My fingers gripped his back and I screamed his name over and over again. We both moaned and my legs trembled, but he didn't seem to get tired, in fact his movements, accompanied by the squirm due to the fact that I had come, were more and more violent but I didn't want him to stop, on the contrary...

Suddenly he exploded inside me, making me arch my back and fall my head onto the bed; filling me with him.

He fell on top of me, still inside me.

Our breaths were ragged and both our bodies were hot, quivering.

We didn't say a word until we were clear again.

Yes he slipped out from inside me and dropped onto the bed. His hand slipped underneath me and turned me onto my side.

“Are you okay?” He asked me gently and in a way that I just adored.

“I feel epic.” He laughed and that sound was all I needed to be happy.

“I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you too, my loudest girl.”

[adidegmez]

x-men '97 spoilers

ep 1(To Me, My X-Men)

wow. i just finished x-men animated series. last eps were different than the other seasons. im glad they made this Show story wasnt ober yet. this new start is so good. artstyle is amazing. The visual effects were so cool. everything is great. it was fun. cyclops is struggling. There's a lot of pressure on him. and he is leaving x-men with Jean. Jean is pregnant. Charles really left everything to magnus?! and why is bishop still there i get that timeline is not right but they are not doing a certain thing to fix it. and im glad morph is back. and rogue and gambit i love them. logan and morph's friendship is nice.

ep 2(Mutant Liberation Begins)

Why did they suddenly start calling Magnus Erik? Okay, Erik is also his name i know, but they used to call him Magnus. Erik is an honorable man. I want to believe and trust him. I hope he doesn't have any evil plans. We'll see what happened between rogue and magneto. storm lost her Powers while trying to save magneto. magneto tried. he really did. humans suck(most of the times-in most of the universes). they dont deserve them. dr. rogue and baby is here. scott is being nice to magneto. its good for now. but not for long probably. ororo left. gambit's heart is broken. and 2 jean's?! I cried in the last two minutes of the episode more than I ever cried in the first 5 seasons. It was more painful. it happened in a much more perfect way. it was beautiful. I guess this is what happens when an animated series is made for adults. i really love it.

ep 3(Fire Made Flesh)

Why is Roberto in the mansion? Is he there to hang out with jubilee or is he staying there now? Since when is jean a clone? goblit queen is so powerfull. baby is gone. Madelyne is one but i think we'll see her again someday. hi, forge. i hope this is really forge and he can help storm.

ep 4(Motendo/Lifedeath - Part 1)

I want to see more gambit and rogue. and I want to see nightcrawler. not mojo again🤦🏻‍♀. jubilee's powers are cool. storm:(. i hope she can get her Powers back. i love forge. he did something bad but he wants to redeem himself. i hope he can.

ep 5(Remember It)

this Show makes me so happy. kurt is here. genosha is beautiful. mutants live in peace. madelyn is here. and i got gambit rogue and kurt:). I can't feel nostalgic. I just finished the x-men animeted series yesterday but this is so perfect. its just perfection. i love them so much. this Show pays tribute to what the other has done and takes it even further. I can only ask for more episodes, there is nothing else I can ask for(except maybe more gambit and rogue). scott is right. If the x-men were like humans, I think they would start thinking like the old Magneto. The x-men did not think about themselves, they always prioritized others. but in the end they were always hated. I don't understand how they can still do this. How do they hold on, how do they compromise themselves for those who still hate them? Mutants(not the bad ones) deserve great things, but all they get from the world they're trying to save is hatred. and scott is losing his fate in charles vision. he lost his son. his wife was a clone. There's a lot going on for Scott right now. but I hope he can get over this as soon as possible. jean kissed logan! she is confused to she has to remember so that she can be with scott again. and then maybe jean and scott could help eachother get better. i like seeing scott's eyes. scott is right i am not sure jean loves scott anymore. she remembers she loved him but i dont think she feel that way anymore. scott loves madelyn because she was jean and part of her is still jean. idk everything is complicated. it is painful to watch. i just want them all of them to be happy. but there's so much going on right now. I wanted gambit and rogue to be together. They were so beautiful together. But Magneto may be right, I can't be angry with him. But I just wish Rogue and Gambit could be more than friends. too many people are heartbroken rogue, gambit, jean, scott, (me). Did I just see Watcher? after gambit and rogue's talk. i think i did. i wish things were simple. cable is nathan. Why was he there and why did he leave? erik is gone. gambit is dead. they saved rogue. so many mutant died. leech trusted magneto. magneto gave hope to mutants and everything was great, i had hope things were getting better. mutants on genosha were happy. magneto he tried. he tried to save them. he tried to be like Charles. but World just wont let them be this good. he really tried. Would I be too delusional if I hoped that Remy and Erik would return? I need them both back. i cant feel you, this tells everything(reminds me of wanda). I knew it the moment I saw rogue touching gambit. I wish things could have happened differently. i knew I haven't cried this much while reading or watching a story in a long time. This episode really broke me. I'm not in a good mood. The world doesn't deserve X-Men. they never deserved the x-men and will never deserve them. Whatever the x-men do now, they will almost always be right.

ep 6(Lifedeath - Part 2)

lilandra and Charles are good together im happy for them. but i wouldnt mind if they come to earth and save x-men. storm and forge they are cute. but it probably wont last long, i wish it could last. i hope Charles can learn about what erik did. professor xavier, that was smart. yes, storm got her Powers back. Charles is Charles. i love him. his ideals are amazing but they are just ideas. to make them real they suffer they try and they fail over and over again. im glad hes returning to earth but it is too late. and things in spece wont be good when he left. and sinister! sinister killed all those mutants adn remy and erik. i hope he will have a painfull and an awful ending to his story.

ep 7(Bright Eyes)

not a funeral, please he has to come back. hi cap. normally i would say it is nice to see you but right now you're just reminding me how ridiculous mutant hatred is. Yes, there are people who hate superheroes too, but mutant hatred is on another level. And this is ridiculous. rogue is right to be mad. Humans expect mutants to compromise themselves in order to live with them, and they require this. Because humans are afraid of mutants, mutants have to hide their powers and not use them so that people do not feel threatened. Why do mutants follow their rules? because they are good. The "bad ones" don't suppress their power just because people want them to. But when it comes to humans, mutants who live their own nature as they wish are evil. i love kurt and rogues relationship. it feels good to see the X-Men being together and helping each other through all this bad stuff. oppenheimer… now i am become death the destroyers of worlds. trask destroyed all those mutants lifes. i cant say he didnt deserved death but rogue, she let him die. this is not who x-men is, at least WHO they were. she is angry she is grieving she is not in her right mind right now. if she was herself she wouldnt have let him die. i saw the sign for Strak Industries. I wish we could see Tony. In which universe, in which timeline are we right now? Is Tony dead here too? magneto is alive. bastion? i dont know anything about him i guess ill see. scott learned about cable.

ep 8(Tolerance Is Extinction - Part 1)

is madelyne dead? i thought she just get hurt not dead. kurt with swords, I've been waiting for this. Everything is in a very bad state right now, but this visuality and the fights are beautiful. Jean being a mother to cable(seatbelt:) ). wolverine's fight in the skys. yes! summers family. it was so cool. hi peter. but really magneto was right. Charles was just being naive. humans are the wortst. i wish humans and mutants could live together in peace but humans wont let them. mutants deserve better. Charles is back. It wasn't Magneto who started the war. humans wanted this war from the beginning. Mutants and X-Men have been patient, but now it's too much, how much longer should they be patient? It would be really nice if there was peace, but as long as people have this hatred, it seems impossible to make peace. Bastion ignited the war, but whether he started or not, the war would still happen one day. I hope the mutants can win. magneto can win. I think Charles is late. Before the war, they could have tried to implement Charles' ideals, but it was too late. The war has begun and mutants need a leader in the war and that leader must be Magneto.

ep 9(Tolerance Is Extinction - Part 2)

Why is everyone mad at Magneto? I understand humans being angry, it's usual hatred, but why are the x-men so angry? Okay, the order of the world has been disrupted, life has become difficult, the end of the world may even be near, but Magneto saved the mutants. If he had not done this, the mutants would probably have died. I've never been one for villains, I've rarely agreed with them. and this is one of those rare moments. magneto is right. I don't think he is the villain in this story bastion and humans are the bad guys. im glad rogue went with him. charles' ideals are nice to think but its impossible right now. we need magneto. black lether, I completely forgot this scene was coming. x-men are noble they are still trying to do the right thing(according to them). I'm still amazed at how they can endure so much and still try to do good. morph smash:) I wish mutants didn't fight each other. but really i wanted to say shut up to Charles when magneto did. things are bad, really bad. When I started watching '97', I thought I would watch something fun and light. I never thought it would be this dark. Logan should have at least thought once before attacking Magneto with his metal skeleton. He probably won't die, but I think this is an indication that Magneto didn't want to hurt them before. If he wanted to, he would have done this years ago, but he prioritized mutants and didn't want to harm mutants. Now he had to harm the X-Men to save many other mutants. scott confused me, yes the others needed time but why did this happen? Is Jean dead? forge and storm will surive too right?

ep 10(Tolerance Is Extinction - Part 3)

ironman! I wasn't surprised when I saw Ironman with Captain America, but Daredevil caught me off guard. Daredevil is one of my favorite Marvel characters. Is Doctor Strange in surgery?! wakanda! cloak and dagger! this cameos are amazing i hope we can see things like that in live action. I hope mister sinister is gone for good. t'chaka is black panther. Charles destroyed magnus. i hope he can bring him back. bastion is right, humanity would rather die than have kids like mutants. and that why i dont like them. mr. fantastic(morph but still its nice to see him)! humans say we did it. But all they do is bring about the end of the world over and over again. x-men saved the world, magneto saved, mutants saved the world. humans only made it a worse place. wanda and quicksilver off World? where are they? bishop. yes save the x-men. i need season 2 immediatly. x-men scattered through time. They found Nathan. en sabah nur(Apocalypse!!!). At least the series didn't end in a bad place. They defeated Bastion and Sinister. They fell apart, but they're not in a bad situation right now. When is gambit coming back? he has to come back.

this Show is amazing. Characters from MCU and X-Men are in the same universe together. It was very beautiful. I hope we can see more. I can watch so many seasons this way.

[bookwyrminspiration]

I made a shitpost about the Forkles and transgenderism yesterday, but it inspired an actual thought/thought experiment. Let's see if I can articulate it, @gay-otlc

Imagine with me--what if one of the Forkles was trans? For max angst, I'm thinking the second, surviving one, the one who took on their brother's life and identity without a choice.

And specifically only one, as I'm going in a forced to live in a body/life they don't feel or want kind of direction. If it'd been both of them, they could've simply adapted together. Instead they're uncomfortable, but don't have a life or identity outside of their brother's, and have to wear his skin, his voice, his life and keep the consistency--for safety.

Pretend it's theirs and that it doesn't grate and make them question their very existence or if anyone even knows them. Pretend they're okay after they started drifting away from the shape changing elixirs and the fun trickery of their youth, that it was just for the pranks and that changing their body for it wasn't a lifeline.

They're supposed to be one person shared between two minds, two bodies, but that only works if they feel seamless. And they don't. It makes them constantly aware of what they've been forced into, and what they've lost

Then Forkle 1 died, the original, the one they pretended to be. And they're still carrying around his body, a body that no one feels comfortable in anymore. And it still grates, and they hate it, and they can't stand mirrors, but can they let it go? Can they kill this body and finally be themself when it's all they have left of their brother? Or will they continue wearing his dead skin in tribute.

I don't have any conclusion or anywhere to take this, I just had the thought of "man wouldn't that be compelling" and went from there. There's of course other iterations that can be made, this is just the first one I thought of

[daboyau]

I can't decide on either Animal Attack, Open Wounds, or Failed Rescue. Aaaaaaa-

maybe an ally try to save the character from an animal attack but was unsuccessful and left them with their wounds idk you're the writer

idk these are the three I offer do what you will with them.

-pcw (the letters mean something I swear)

Ooo okay this was fun to do. I ended up going with animal attack. (Loosely lol) I hope you like!! 🙏

@boots-with-the-fur-club

He stumbles upon the District Ten tribute twelve hours into the Game. She’s been dragged halfway into the water by one of the strange, colorful beasts that populate the neon hellscape that makes up this year’s arena. She’s clutching the branches of a spindly little blue tree that overhangs the shore, arms trembling, hands bloodied from their razor-wire branches. The creature seems content to wait until she finally loses the strength to fight back, neon pink eyes blinking slowly from just above the rippling waterline, its clawed, reptilian hands digging into her hips as it keeps her still and pulls her slowly down. 

Yoshi almost leaves. He already knows that he is unwilling to help carry her through to the finale of this bloodbath. Surely, it would be so much kinder to let her go now, when the death itself will be quick and impersonal instead of messy and inexperienced. At least this way, she won’t have to spend any more time than she already has in pain or in fear.

It’s the best option, and he’s determined to walk away. 

But then she looks at him. Her eyes are dull and sad and hopeless. She looks at him, and she doesn’t for even one second dare to dream that he will help. It’s the most heartbreaking thing he’s ever seen, and he knows he cannot allow this to be the moment she is lost to the world. 

He’s leaping into action before he has a chance to think anything through. The beast screeches and snaps teeth the size of knives at him, lips pulled back, eyes flashing with fury and hunger. Those teeth and claws are really all it has going for it. Its body is thin, almost emaciated. Yoshi wraps his hands around its spindly little neck and he squeezes, snarling right back, ignoring the way its claws tear through his skin, leaving deep gashes that leak blood into the tumultuous waters that it is fighting to drag him deeper into.

He wins that little battle. This creature wasn’t built for a real fight, and Yoshi has been training to survive for the last 17 years of his life. When he drops its still form and turns to make his way back to the shore, he sees the girl he just saved waiting for him on the unnaturally yellow sand. She’s shaking, terrified, but she silently offers him a torn strip of her jacket to wrap around his wounds. 

They form what could be loosely called an alliance. He doesn’t kill her. She doesn’t kill him. They alternate who’s on watch so no one can sneak up on them at night while the other one sleeps. They share what little food they’re able to scavenge, and in the quiet moments they keep one another company.

She tells him her name is Mosely. She’s fourteen and the youngest of seven children. She’s been ready to die since the moment her name was drawn. There’s no chance she’s leaving this arena with a pulse. They both know it, though neither will say it.

Yoshi tells her what little there is to tell. Of the broken remnants of a family (all dead or estranged or disappeared in some other way). Of the little seaside shack he’s worked hard to turn into a home. He shows her how to make an eel trap. He teaches her how to throw a punch.

When the District One boy attacks them, he cuts his throat and the blood stains her shirt. The girl from Eleven meets a similar fate. After he gauges the eyes from the skull of the District Seven boy, and strangles the District Nine girl, he finds that there’s really no use in taking shifts at night. He can’t sleep anymore. The nightmares won’t let him rest for even five minutes.

Mosely doesn’t say much to him, but she does watch him with those dark, sad eyes of hers. She looks like she knows something he doesn’t. Sometimes, she’ll open her mouth like she wants to tell him, but she never actually lets her words spill out. He never does learn what she wanted to tell him. 

On the fourth night, he loses her. 

Two other tributes distract him while their companion grabs Mosely. He doesn’t even hear her scream. He just turns around and sees her crumpled on the ground, blood a dark pool against the neon green of the grass, her dark curls soaked in it. He can see the white of skull through her hair, and the greyish-pink of brain matter beyond that. Her eyes stare straight through him, bloodshot and bulging. Her mouth hangs open, like that secret she’d held so close to her chest is still waiting to spill forth. 

Yoshi doesn’t remember how the rest of the fight went. All he knows is that at the end, there are three strangers’ bodies scattered around them, and he is cradling Mosely’s small form in his lap, telling her he’s sorry while her sad eyes go flat and dull.

They’d both known it would end like this.

[rwby-confess]

60-something confessions, weve paid our tribute, what are YOUR confessions

Okay, here goes 10 confessions from me:

1.

I wish we had seen Pyrrahs friendships, I think she and Ren would've been good friends since both of them are so level headed.

I headcanon that they would take care of the school garden together, Pyrrah would struggle a bit with delicate plants but same time be happy to be able to learn from his peers new things for once.

One day she learns that Nora and Ren are orphans. Her respect for them grows, seeing them as so much stronger for not having the same support she had growing up, yet here they are thriving. She makes sure to invite them over during holidays and for other things they possibly missed out on as kids.

She doesn't care for cooking but often goes to shop for ingredients with Nora.

2.

I think Freezerburn is incredibly soft.

Weiss is able to cool down hot-headed Yang and Yang is able to melt away the Ice Queens tsundere tendencies. :'-) <3

3.

I miss seeing the street fashion influence when it comes to designs, ofcourse I understand why it isn't there as much anymore but I can still moan about it.

Yangs' tsuyome-esque looks was my fave, it was fire and I wanted to cosplay it so badly.

Ruby's look reminds me of something I wore when I was 12yo actually

4.

Only on my second watch I realised that Ironwood looks really hot with this look and it's a shame that it got SO little screen time. And same with Winters first look.

5.

Also on my second watch I realised that the straps on Oscars' gloves are green not black ???

6.

Remember bootleg Neptune from volume 4? Yeah he sure exists. But what if he did more?

Weiss is trapped in Atlas, she's lonelier than ever, she can only go to places and events dad approves of. And this guy keeps coming around, maybe they meet at the Schnee Manors garden, why not go for a bad boy?

They have fling going on, for Weiss it's mostly out of boredom and finding him good looking. If she's trapped might as well have fun. Maybe they'll get in trouble or have some other sort of side plot going on together but eventually when Weiss gets a window to escape out of Atlas, she's faced with a decision.

Stay with the guy who obviously finds it insane to trade living high life in Atlas to go chase some pals she met at school in other kingdom. Weiss snaps out of the rose coloured glasses after hearing this, ultimately choosing her friends.

Idk I just wish they let them do the usual young people fuck ups and learning experiences if there's going to be whole volume of them sitting around

7.

Yang's probably closest thing Oscar got for mother figure...

8.

The bird thing. Make Raven tell Weiss and Yang how the experience was as she remembers, give them reason to be shocked. So here's my suggestion:

Maybe the process was violent since current humans aren't used to magic in any shape, they're stripped from their autonomy in that moment and it's humiliating.

Like Amber was in the chamber beneath Beacon, Oz did it to Branwens there in similar way? Underground to not attract grimm, no one to hear their screams, its cold and dark, they're stripped like Amber to act as guinea pigs for this man.

Qrow has (more or less) made peace with all that trauma and what happened since he thinks its suffering for the greater good. After all, the man doesn't really have home to go back to. He doesn't want to bring misfortune to people he loves and the tribe doesn't really want him back.

However Raven learns that Salem can't be beaten, meaning she and Qrow suffered for only to be ideal candidates for a suicide mission...

9.

I want Qrowin angst, please crwby, I want to suffer lmao

Give Qrow absolutely losing it, calling Winter after Atlas falls asking her if she knows where the kids are? Where did she last saw them?

And when Winter tries to answer Qrows questions she can't bring herself to say it; they're gone. She was there and she couldn't save them, not even her own sister. The words just won't come out... and after the silence she tells him to meet her in Vacuo, after all he deserves to know.

Whatever differences they had in the past feel so miniscule now.

(Aaand I headcanon that both of them craved for a "normal" family, making this little story even more horrible!)

10.

Yang "shooting" kids' leg on live TV should've had more consequences me thinks. Give me atleast someone commenting or being vary of her.

Her arm is brand new Atlas tech according to Tai, maybe someone would see it as an issue after finding out that she got it for free from Ironwood himself.

Maybe anti Yang propaganda being showed around town could've pushed her to work with Robyn (lol)

"Quite frankly miss I'm about to piss myself right about now, so this one is on the house"

[dolly-macabre]

⚙️ 𝕶𝖑𝖔𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝟏𝟔 ⚙️

ℑ𝔫 𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔪: ℌ𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫

Memorial Services are hard! Have a fic about it!

In Memorium

"I don't think I can do this…" Dolly chokes back tears as her hands fiddle with the written speech in her lap. She's so nervous that she almost tears it.

"Hey, hey… Yer gonna do great, babe." Pickles attempts to reassure her, but nothing anyone says seems to be helping. It's just one of those things. 

You can't get around this, Twinkletits had told her. You need to go through it. She'd been repeating that affirmation in her head all morning, but how is she supposed to properly pay tribute to so many fallen?

She blames herself, of course. She was supposed to be coordinating the klokateers during that epic battle, but had gotten caught up buying time for the boys. She can still hear the screaming from her earpiece that day, loud and clear.

And Jess…

She'd made many friends along the way as she became a klokateer, but he was the one she held most dear. He was always there to patch her up or give her a kind pat on the back for a job well done.  Not being able to see him every day anymore was rough.

Charles had been kind enough to put off the memorial service until she could be a part of it. She was only just starting to get used to not laying in a hospital bed all day, so this whole event felt like too much for her. She peers around the room to get a feel for her audience. There were hardly any klokateers left to attend, and the ones that were there were very new or had been guarding Mordhaus during the battle.

Pickles can feel her tremors and nervous sweating. He watches as she reaches into her black studded clutch bag and pulls out an amber pill bottle.

"Hey, you uh sharin' that by any chance?" he whispers.

She hands him a couple bars of Xanax and gives him a stern look. She trusts him to keep it together, but the rest of them… 

"Oh! You handings out Xanxies????" Toki loudly chimes in.

"I want some, too!" Nathan wasn't nearly as loud as Toki, but Dolly had had enough. She whirled on them, hissing, "All of you shut the *RIFF* up! This is a formal event!"

"Yeah, in our church. That they built for usch. There'sch hardly anyone here! Don't be a schtingy asschole!" Murderface whines.

She realizes it's been some time since everything went down, but she didn't think it would be long enough that they'd act so negligent about it. Maybe it was just their way of coping? She'd have to ask Dr. John about that. 

"Here, just take it!" she hisses, throwing the bottle on the floor in front of their pew.

"Sahrry," Pickles bashfully says. "I shoulda just kept my mouth shut." 

"Don't worry about it," Dolly says, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Soon I'll be flying and nothing'll matter. I'll give my little speech and go home to my bed and everything will be fine."

Charles takes the stage first, refined as ever. "Good evening, Dethklok family," he says. "I'm forlorn that we must meet under such devastating circumstances. We have gathered here to honor our fallen soldiers, the klokateers. Their sacrifice was not in vain, for we can stand here today, proud for all they have given us. Working tirelessly to meet the needs of their masters and staff alike–"

How am I supposed to follow him? This guy is like the king of public speaking… 

Dolly begins to fidget with her rings as a cold trickle of sweat runs down the middle of her back. She only glances up when Pickle's hand settles over hers. 

"Hey, yer shakin' pretty bad," he whispers. "It's okay if we gatta step out for a sec. Do ya wanna take a breather?" 

He tosses a nod at Charles, who nods in return. Charles continues on to cover for her. He's always been a great boss to her. She'd have to find a way to thank him later. Meanwhile, Pickles walks her out of the Blacklok church's sanctuary. 

Dolly had begun hyperventilating before they even made it out. She's so embarrassed. She's supposed to be Dethklok's fearless defender, for fuck's sake!

"Angel… I know this is sumthin' you really wanna do, but I hate ta see ya all worked up like this…"

"Just… gotta wait for the Xanax to kick in…" She shakily sits down on a nearby bench. 

Pickles kneels down before her, setting a hand on each shoulder as she wipes away her tears. 

"No one would think any less of ya, Dolls…"

"No! I– I need to… "

He lets out a sigh and sits next to her. He begins digging in the black tote bag he's started carrying everywhere. He pulls her dab pen from the bag, looking weary.

"I know yer supposed ta cut back on the smoking while your lungs heal up, but I think this might be a special circumstance. '' He hands her the vape, and she thankfully puffs at it a few times. Pickles always thought of everything; He's fully embraced his role as band mother. 

"There ya go," he says in that gentle tone he reserves just for her. "Yer gonna be fine. "

After about 10 minutes passes, Charles steps out of the sanctuary to check on them. 

"Dahlia," he says, "if you feel unwell, I'm more than happy to read your segment for you, but we can't delay this anymore. People are starting to become restless."

Dolly takes three deep breaths. "No," she replies. "I– I can do this." She makes her way back into the sanctuary, speech in hand, as others whisper and mumble. The aisle may as well have been a million miles long. Would this ever end?

She stands silent at the podium for a moment.  Pickles has made his way back to his seat, and he gives her a thumbs up along with Toki and Nathan, after some prodding. 

She lets out a soft sigh and sets her paper on the podium. Finally, she begins to speak. 

"My dear friends and family, I come before you with a heavy heart. Though right now that feels like an understatement. We all know life is unfair, but this incident has rattled us to our very core. The klokateers were more than just yes-men to answer our every beck and call. They were the very life blood of this company.  A lot–" She collects herself, keeping the sobbing at bay before continuing. "A lot of them I had grown so close to in my time as a klokateer and now when I see their posts empty, it feels as though my heart is being ripped from my chest. They were my family when the outside world had forsaken me. Life will never be the same now, no matter who we recruit, and no matter how much we build ourselves up going forward, but…" Her pause feels like it lasts for a century. "We will become stronger because of their sacrifice. We will overcome, for their sakes. Because that's what it comes down to when serving Dethklok. Death may always seem inevitable in this line of work, but they always put their best foot forward and kept going until they no longer could. And for that, I can't even begin to thank them enough for their service. The least we can do for them is to keep going no matter how hard life gets. For we are all gears in the wheel of the Klok, and we fear not our mortality!"

"That's my girl," Pickles whispers proudly to himself as the crowd respectfully applauds.

[incarnateirony]

Shealyn, stop gaslighting yourself.

Nobody said gods are mad at you for working with other pantheons.

That's not the argument.

The argument is your blasphemy, your raping my face, you mixing me up with a god. I Am Not A Pantheon. I can tell you to stop raping my face and mixing me up. Not sure how you're managing to get this fucked up, because I am literally trying to terminate a cult you have erected in my image. I Am Not A Pantheon. I Am Aaron, You Are Not. Even if you change the name, pasting my face on your delusions you groom your cult to is what it is, you got us all fucked up, you got people listening to your literal anime jibberish you trolled yourself on, and you have literally been grooming people to rape my face because you can't get over the divorce.

That's not the same fucking thing, stop trying to pretend to be confused.

I can also, however, steal those pantheons you're running to, and make Loki tell you to Do The Work Read A Book, yeah. Cuz again, you're schizophrenic and half your head is tribute to me. So it backfeeds.

It's not "gods will get mad at you for working with other pantheons", it's "no matter what pantheon you run to, the gods are mad at you for being a rapey blasphemous douchecanoe, and people can hear it, but you can't hear them, because for magical reasons, you can only hear your ex telling you to do the work."

Don't fucking get them mixed up you cheap skank.

They're not mad at you for changing pantheons. They're just ignoring you, it's not an accident that no one hears your cries. But me. Telling you to do the fucking work. And your guardian you imagined that rocks you back and forth and tells you it's okay. Hey, you talked to your Bloody Mary lately, how she acting?

They're mad at you for being contrary, teaching against their ways, for violating basic principles, for running from responsibility, and from generally being a disproportionate dumbass, even in the scale of humans being dumbasses. They don't OWE your princess ass ANYTHING. Especially when most of them are the same dudes on other names and like, now you're just being flagrantly two faced AND retarded IN FRONT OF THEIR SALADS. Like you are literally running from a trap you made for yourself, trying to bother every timeline and pantheon, and still being told or flat-assed forcefully rewired to do the work. They're not gonna intervene to protect you from choices you made and refuse to stop making. That's not how this works.

Don't get it twisted.

Let's put this simply: The gods aren't angry at you for changing pantheons

Your ex husband, who you have confused with a god, is over you grooming a cult to him, raping his face, and stalking him for three years, and isn't going to stop doing what it takes to make sure he doesnt have to suffer you again even if it takes three years of his own back, no matter how you try to whine and spin shit like this into the internet to rewrite the narrative.

The gods are, generally, ignoring you. One is dancing with shrimp as a mockery. The other is uh, just me, not actually a god, but you thought I was Loki instead of Hermes that time, so there's that.

Like we can keep going, but it ain't about changing pantheons. I do not care if you are getting me fucked up as a trickster god in Greek or Nordic, you've somehow fucking managed both, while still refusing to see how flawed you are, and still refusing to see how you built this fucked up temple to fucking my face. I do not fucking care, it is not about what language you're retarded in. It's about your refusal to change behavior, and instead using gods like fictional crutches to blame for them, and they ain't having that shit girl. One time you almost shot another ex husband between the eyes, claimed it was channeling, and disassociatively blamed Athena, and it's all been downhill from there. Lmfao nobody wants to deal with your pathological ass anymore, which is how you've become lemonbuttershrimpgirl, and like. Mmf. Is it the attention? Are you enjoying actually having his attention again? Even if he's pointing out you're a morbidly obese moron that thinks her cat is channeling freyja, and even if he's openly making fun of your stolen octopus jibberish branding too while squidward bodies mister krabs in all of this, like--you just really need his attention that bad, huh.

Like girl, GIRL. Everyone saw us arguing while you said you didn't have to read anything, or do any work, to be his priestess. They saw me bang on WORK, BOOK, WORK, BOOK. They saw me say we were going in and playing dark magician. Then they saw you post about a shitton of shadows in your house and a mysterious old man in Ancient greece talking about a lifetime of hard work, and you being clueless and picking your nose, then me joking about subsuming your fake ice raven shadow, then they saw you say Loki showed up and Gave You A Work Book, because you couldn't stand to have to do work or read another book, so everyone literally watched you willfully misinterpret me and yet again fuck me up for another god to make yet another version you could bullshit all the rules up from inside your own head and call it mysticism to teach the cult you have raping my face, now possibly in two pantheons. Like, literally, everybody fucking saw it. It's bisexual, not bilingual, Shea, get off our dick in every language. A slavic dub of me is still me.

Literally people watched that shit happen and you're still going "uwu gods won't care if I change pantheons" not when it's the god of your ex husband you've obsessively deified in your head screaming at you to get off his dick and read a book in any fucking language. Dead ASS woman you are like "NUH UH I DIDNT MIX UP AARON AND HERMES" then IMMEDIATELY PROCEDED TO MIX ME UP WITH LOKI TOO. IN FRONT OF THE CLASS!! AND YOU JUST KEEP!!! MOVING ON LIKE NOBODY SAW IT!

The gods are not here to be tools for your roleplay fetishes and your refusal to process grief. I don't know WHAT fuckin pantheon you think will tell you THAT.

I know you're smarter than this Shealyn, stop giving yourself intentional brain damage to run from the truth.

I repeat, I do not care if you are getting me fucked up as a trickster god in Greek or Nordic, you've somehow fucking managed both, BUT THIS IS GOING TO STOP, NO MATTER HOW MANY CIRCLES YOU SPIN TO TRY TO FIND A NARRATIVE YOU MIGHT BELIEF* YOU'RE NOT FUNDAMENTALLY ASSFUCKED IN. Belief your spider back, Belief away the above posts you proved yourself a clown in, Belief away the timeline you got yourself stuck in this octopus jibberish comedy mess. Oh, it's not working? Weird. So anyway, keep doing the work and coincidentally replacing your humor with ours in ways that play into comedic punchlines we re-re-re-roll our old jokes on, that shouldn't be alarming you or anything.

Update: Or you know, you catching Flight Fursuit Friday into Tartarus and reading the vibes of me looking over at work in the morning realizing I forgot to feed my cat as the great god Anubis remembering to tell you to feed fuzzy, your precious. Hashtag Release Coyote Versus Acme. Yeah, you're. You're doing fine over there, Shealyn.

Yeah Shea, it's been an interesting few years you lost the plot on reality with on your end, while on my end, at least my insanity is general awareness of the insanity of reality, and that's why you're here, in Octopus Fetish Land, getting beaten through time with your own jokes, but also very immediately. Apotheosis is a biiiiiiitch. How've you been? Oh you went totally nuts? Yeah man, tried to stop that, but now it's just really funny hitting the buttons.

[siren-darkocean]

Random Bionicle AU Idea

So last night while trying to sleep (I have this thing where I picture my favorite ships in my head when I try to sleep like a bedtime story) I got an idea for an au that is weird and came out of nowhere but I like it

Okay so what if, with my headcanon Mata Nui'a Toa/Glatorian body before the giant titan of the GSR Robot and able to have that body inside his own universe (outside I'm iffy sure on it) and it's how I imagined Mata Nui taking care of the Toa Mata and Takanuva/Takua of Mata Kids AU, the Great Beings decided to have a Glatorian join his side (kinda like a right hand)

Thus enters the Lord of Fire and he volunteers a younger Ackar (freshly yoinked from his mother during his grief of losing his father in the war), he's their perfect tribute and they keep him in a room until they finally finish up Mata Nui's conscious

Ackar absolutely HATES it, being either a sacrifice or a potential offering for something being made by the Great Beings so many times he's trying to either escape the tower of The Valley of the Maze or off himself to escape it (all of those fail)

Then finally Mata Nui's consciousness is finished and put in his own Toa/Glatorian body and the two get to meet and bond, Ackar isn't hating so much anymore (he still dislikes it to a good degree but he can't help admit Mata Nui does have some charm)

Ofc we have the successful launch of the GSR Robot, Ackar is in a almost large home space inside the robot where Mata Nui is able to broadcast that same Toa/Glatorian body consciousness at his side

Que more bonding of the two they fall in love, etc.

So during The Great Cataclysm when Mata Nui, Ackar and the Toa are rushing to the pods, Mata Nui shares his age immortality with Ackar before pushing Ackar into a pod for his safety from the Brotherhood and inside the pod he's in a statis

Which I have like two paths it could lead to;

First path Ackar ends up on the island and helps both the Matoran and his and Mata's amnesiac children with saving Mata

And the second path the pod takes him back to Spherus Magna, now Bara Magna, near Vulcanus and he joins the Vulcanus Glatorian ranks just so he could have a place over his head until Mata Nui and him reunite

Shenshsjshs-

Why must my brain be like this?

[missizzy]

Narrative Interlude: The Shadows Hanging Over

(Takes place in the universe of my first playthrough, where I've just played through the Githyanki creche, and the meeting with Elminster one long rest later.)

When she saw their leader stalk away from camp, after speaking with each of them, Karlach waited a few minutes, then quietly followed. Even in the short time she had known Sara Tully, she had recognized their similarities, and it made her very good at telling her moods. Not that this was difficult, given how the elf wore her heart on her sleeve. She'd been worried about her since they'd returned to camp the previous night with a distraught Lae'zel, even before she'd heard a bit about what had happened with the Githyanki. And after today, well.

So she walked until they were out of earshot of the others, and there she found their leader, seated curled in on herself on top of a rock, body shaking with her heavy sobs.

"I really wish I could hug you right now," Karlach said as she sat down next to her. Sara raised her head to that, and Karlach thought she might have even been trying to smile, but she couldn't. "Anything else I can try?"

It was maybe a minute before Sara could get herself even to speak. "Sing for me?" she asked. "Just a little?"

"Don't think I'm any sort of virtuoso there, but okay," said Karlach, and she started singing, softly and gently as she could. As she sung, Sara's sobs slowly quieted. "Sorry I'm not better at that."

"You don't have to be," Sara managed, her voice still thick. "I was just glad to hear you, you know. Besides, you should get to go around singing all you want no matter how good or terrible you are at it. You've earned that. You've earned so much."

"That's nice of you," Karlach replied. "And don't feel bad, you know, about breaking down like this. I'd be amazed if none of us have in our tents."

"I don't know how you do it, you know," said Sara. "Well, I know you're not upbeat and happy all of the time, but you still seem to take so much joy in everything."

"Believe me," said Karlach, "it's not always easy. "And it helps to think that literally anything that could be ahead of me, even death, would be better than what's behind. I wouldn't expect most of you have that kind of comfort."

There was more she could've said then, had she been ready. But it had been too long and too hard a pair of days, and there wasn't much point in burdening Sara with more pain and grief that she really couldn't do anything about. She'd tell her the rest someday, maybe, if they both lived to see this ordeal over.

After a brief silence, Sara spoke again. "I've never been all that religious. When I was young, my tribe did festive rites in tribute to some of the gods. A feast for Silvanus during one season, for Lathander in another, that sort of thing. I'm afraid most of the people I knew who did individual worship prayed to Malar...yet even so, I've always thought the gods to, in general, be a good thing, even if some of them were evil." She actually looked a little guilty as she added, "I suppose I've been lucky, to never be affected by the evil ones. Not like you've been."

"Honestly?" said Karlach. "The gods have always kind of been background noise for me, too. I suppose the evil ones are ultimately to blame for what happened to me, but it was their subordinates who actually did everything, them and other lower-downs. I certainly wouldn't want to hear directly from any god at all, mind."

"Then you have more sense than many," Sara sighed. "But surely people shouldn't have to go through what you did to learn that lesson. And when any god tells someone that they want them dead, surely, at the very least, they shouldn't worship them anymore. It's evil, to demand that kind of sacrifice. Why can't they see? Why can't either of them see?" Fresh tears fell as she nearly wailed the question.

"Either of them," said Karlach. "So you mean Lae'zel, too?"

"She still won't face it. And she even said to me tonight, just like the rest of you, that she knows Mystra isn't doing it because she really believes there's no other way. And then promptly insisted to me that Vlaakith isn't like that, oh no, she says, Vlaakith's still doing right by her people. And when I do think Vlaakith's the more evil of the two of them. But I don't know which one of them I hate more right now. At least Vlaakith's condemning Lae'zel wasn't anything personal on her part, not really."

"What happened, exactly?" Karlach asked. "Yes, you guys have told me, but it was more than that, wasn't it?"

"The machine," Sara said, her voice low with her rage. "The one she so eagerly jumped into, so sure it would fix everything. We all three of us felt exactly what it did to her. And we couldn't do anything. I even tried to use the parasite, and was left to wonder if maybe had I listened to our astral friend and gotten stronger with it, maybe I could have, but if she hadn't intervened...and there was that doctor, all excited words and pushing her, oh, was I glad to spill her blood later, and I knew right then. I didn't even need anything else that happened in that place to tell me anything.

And that creche in general. To think she grew up like that. It wasn't even how brutal they were. It was how expendable she was. How expendable they all were."

"That's a common trait, I'm afraid," said Karlach. "I certainly witnessed it. Sometimes I thought myself lucky that I was so valuable to Zariel. Though, really, I think I was more unlucky that way."

"Even now?" Sara asked. "Even when it means you lived to escape?"

"Well, I'm certainly not sorry for that part." Karlach herself had to pause a moment, her next thought almost too painful to voice. "But I can't help but think, sometimes, of those who died instead, when they might now be me had Zariel not been so reckless with them, and maybe their chances of not dying would be higher, what with having their own original hearts."

"Please..." Sara started, now looking even more dismayed. "You...you can't..."

"If it makes you feel better," Karlach tried, "it does also make me more determined to enjoy the freedom I've gotten. I mean, someone should, and if it's got to be me..."

Sara placed her hand very near Karlach's, an obvious statement that she would've taken it if she could have. "I honor you for it, then. Sometimes I think you're the best of us all, though honestly, that's very much between you and Wyll."

Karlach would've laughed at that, had she not then continued, "Did any of Lae'zel's fellow soldiers, the ones she lived and fought with, did any of them care about her at all? They clearly weren't supposed to. I think that's what truly makes a god evil, when they demand you care only about them, devote yourself to them and noone else. I don't even know how I feel about those who demand you love noone else as much as you love them. Are we the first people in Lae'zel's life to say to her, 'No, you are important'?"

"Too much devotion to the powerful in general is probably a dangerous thing," Karlach observed, thinking very much about what had happened to her because of it, but only adding, "as we can even see with these cultists.

Still, at least we all care about her now. Though Astarion would probably deny it if you asked him."

"We need to help her," said Sara. "If we can only figure out how. Or just how to get her to let us."

"We can't force her to let us," Karlach gently told her. "She has to decide to let us."

"I know," she said, though she again looked even more unhappy.

"And don't feel guilty, either," Karlach added, after another moment's thought, "that you can't give her what she wants from you. None of us can help who we fall in love with."

"I thought I might, you know, at first," Sara said, almost to herself. "When we met on that ship. When we were just two women fighting fiercely for our lives together, and why shouldn't we want each other? I imagine she's still in that same mindset. But when I look at her now? All I can think is how young she is."

"Well," Karlach chuckled, "don't tell her that."

"Oh, I know how she'd respond. We all heard what she said to Gale, when he talked about those two children that bitch doctor brought with her, that we had to kill. Because she's wrong; they were children. So what if they'd fought before? So what if they'd even killed? Thanks to the way things went with my tribe during my first century, I wielded my ax for longer than she's been alive before I actually became an adult. It takes more than just that."

"You don't think she's a child, do you? Though I suppose if she is, she's having to grow up fast."

Sara actually had to consider, this, but after a minute, she said, "Not in the way those two were, not quite. But there's still so much she doesn't know yet."

"And what about you?" Karlach asked. "Actually, is it rude to ask an elf their age? Someone once told me it was, but...come to think of it, he probably made up a lot of stuff."

"I'm 279," said Sara. "Old enough to be older than the majority of the people I meet nowadays. Though I don't always feel so much older than them, not the way I used to, before I hit the two and a half-century mark, ironically, when being older than so many people still felt new."

"So you wouldn't be bothered by getting involved with Gale on those grounds? He's definitely not young, not really."

She regretted the jest when Sara's tears, which had finally stopped, started again at that. "I am so, so sorry, that was so stupid of me."

"It's all right," Sara said, hastily wiping away the newest tears. "I suppose I've given it away to everyone now. Maybe even Elminster, though how he could have asked me to just escort Gale to his death like that..."

"I think we all knew how you feel about each other already," Karlach told her. "You've neither of you been hiding it."

"No," Sara said softly, again almost to herself, "he hasn't either, has he?"

It made sense, Karlach thought, that she might still be insecure over Gale's affections. Nobody expected a wizard of his sophistication to take interest in a simple tribeswoman, not with the way the class of them seemed to scorn people like them in general. Yet anyone with eyes could see that Gale had. And he was a good man, better than Karlach would've expected a wizard to be.

Then the next thing she said was, "When Elminster first spoke of this so-called redemption from Mystra, my first thought was 'If he can get her to take him back, he'll forget all about me.' And I wouldn't have even blamed him. Of course he'd choose his goddess lover over me. Except now, hearing the rest of it? I'm starting to wonder if maybe I've gotten it all wrong, about him and her."

"You really thought..." How much could her insecurities have blinded Sara to? "Did you even hear how he spoke, the moment her name came up? It seemed pretty clear to me he wasn't glad to hear it at all. And I think he was the only one of us who wasn't at all surprised when we heard what she wanted him to do. That wasn't a man who wanted his ex back. That was a man who was terrified of her."

"And yet he still worships her. I've even seen him conjure images of her at night. And he still believes what the rest of us immediately recognized to be hogs wash." She shook her head. "At least now I can want him to choose me with a clean conscience. I can wish for him to having nothing to do with her out of more than just jealousy. But that won't be much comfort if I can't save him. And I can't really make that choice for him, in the end. I can't for either of them."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Karlach agreed. "But we can at least harangue him about it, right? Or," she grinned, "you can offer him a little something Mystra won't anymore that he might just want to stick around for. After all, he doesn't have to worry about setting that orb off accidentally anymore, and well, that means he can do a few things he didn't want to risk trying, right?"

And that got a smile from Sara at least, albeit a weak one. "That thought actually has crossed my mind. But I don't know how to talk to him about it right now. It's probably not a conversation for tonight, anyway."

"Nope. Instead I bet we'll hear from our dream visitor. I was kind of surprised she didn't show up last night."

"Well, she does like to appear to all of us at once, and I doubt Lae'zel would've welcomed her. She might have even tried to kill her herself. Never mind that a major reason I believed her over Vlaakith was because I knew the latter was lying to Lae'zel, and was also *hurting* her. Then again, I suppose the whole scene wouldn't have happened at all, if Lae'zel hadn't pushed us up to that point, and that's the only part of that she's cared to realize.

Foolish creature." Sara's voice turned hard. "I'm starting to think that whoever she is, she's just another one of those powerful people expecting us to do exactly as she says. But she should know I'm not going to Moonrise Towers for her. We're going there to get rid of our parasites, and to rescue Wyll's father-though only because Wyll wants us to, that duke is only getting our help on the say-so of the son he disowned, and now I'm staying with Gale to try to get him not to blow himself up. And you, too. I'm also staying on this road with you at least until we get to wherever Dammon is right now. We may have to do what a few powerful people want, but let's not do it for them."

"Hear, hear," Karlach agreed. There was a sentiment she could absolutely get behind. A bunch of such sentiments, in fact.

"I suppose we'll still have to take her advice for a while, at least to a point." Sara rose to her feet, and tried to put her disheveled hair back in order, though there wasn't much that could be done about her reddened face. "We'd better get back."

It was strange, how quickly Karlach had gotten used to not only following after this woman, when she'd still only know her for days, but how glad she was to do so. But she knew why, especially now. She couldn't remember the last time someone had not only cared for her, but had done so with the ferocity with which Sara Tully clearly cared for them all. From what she had gathered about the others, she was pretty sure she wasn't the only one either.

Then again, it didn't have to be just Sara. Karlach took in the scene when they arrived back at camp. Wyll was talking avidly with Halsin about something, while Shadowheart sat nearby and listened. Lae'zel was doing her nightly workout, maybe with a little too much intensity. Astarion was being bothered by Volo, but actually seemed willing to talk to him at the moment. Gale was sitting with Scratch, idly stroking the dog's fur. It was easy for her own affection for all her new friends to well up inside her. It hadn't only been too long since anyone had cared about her; it had been too long since she'd had anyone to care about.

They should all come to love each other, she decided. They could fight for each other, and hopefully save each other, and maybe also the world, too-but that had better happen without any of them sacrificing themselves. It would be each other in the end for each of them, and that would make it worth it. Yes, she knew, some of them might not be willing to go for her idea right now, especially with regards to some of the others, but that was okay. They'd be glad, in the end, if it happened anyway, and it very well could.

[gamesbyalbie]

So, I started writing something this past week (inspired by DPR Ian's incredible music video for Don't Go Insane, and my feelings about [redacted]). This is all a work in progress and I'll be releasing it in sections. Anyways, here's the first part of...

The Cursed Journey

PART 1: PROXY

I don't sleep anymore. Anxiety and caffeine provide me with the energy I need to live and free up hours of otherwise wasted time. 

However—quite unfortunately—they've also stolen my ability to rest.

Most nights I lie in bed for 30-45 minutes but that's merely a formality, a tribute to a past life, a wish I'm certain will never come true. I get nothing from it—except for rare occasions where I stray close enough to dreaming to scrape up a bit of creative fodder—but it's one of the only things I do for myself.

Actually, it might be the only thing I do for myself.

It's not like I do it for long—I couldn't even if I wanted to (which I don't). It's just one half hour out of a full ass 24. Statistically, that shouldn't be the time when I get the most surprise calls. Yet, somehow...

"Fuck me. What now?" I growl, slapping my hand over my phone. It tumbles off the nightstand, because of course it does. A deeply dissatisfied groan rumbles out of my chest like distant thunder. Taking the sheets with me, I crawl halfway out of bed.

This is the third time this week. Who the fuck is it? I wonder, arms supporting my torso while my legs are still on the mattress, looking like I'm waiting for a wheelbarrow race to start. There's something degrading and weirdly primal about this position—stretching to reach my phone, grunting like an ape. I swear, if it's Michael, I'm going to—

The Ward

My blood runs cold. Shit. My arms start to shake. I slip down onto the floor and stare at my phone. It rings several more times before I finally gain the courage to answer. I press the button and a hologram of a woman's face appears. I recognize her and her bob vaguely—she has very distinctive bangs—but I can't remember her name. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Ody Specter."

I can't tell if she genuinely doesn't recognize me, if she's being polite and pretending, or if she's following some kind of script. Then again, maybe I just look like shit. "You've reached them." I lean against the sharp edge of my bed frame. The discomfort clears some of the fog from my mind.

"Hi. This is Kelly calling on behalf of the Writer's Ward. Are you sitting down? I'm sorry to say that I have bad news."

That's all you call with, I want to reply. Instead I say, "What is it?"

"It's—"

"Is it Min-joon?"

"Oh, uh, no." She stammers. With how surprised she looks, you'd think I'd just jumped out of a wardrobe wearing nothing but a jester's hat. Probably the script then. "No, um, Mr. Park is stable as far as I'm aware."

The weight crushing my ribcage shifts. Nothing's alleviated, but it changes in nature.

"It's actually Kim Ji-yeon." There's a pause. "Mx. Specter?" Silence. "Did... did the call freeze?"

My mouth hangs agape. Less than two hours ago I was venting my frustrations and fears to Ji-yeon. She was comforting me. My brain cannot process this information. How? How could she— 

"Ji-yeon, she... is she there?"

"She's in transit to the facility."

"What? Uh, when? When did this happen?"

"Around 15 minutes ago." Damn, they move fast. Not that I should be surprised. This is their sole purpose and there's been no shortage of practice. "She made an alarming call to her editor. By the time emergency services reached her apartment, she was unresponsive."

How did the curse get her? Ji-yeon was the best of us. Of the few remaining writers, I would've picked her as the most steady, the most consistent and confident. Hell, she has two new books slated to come out next week.

Maybe... did I not see it? Could I have done something? Was it obvious? Min-joon would have noticed. No, shut up.

"I see. Um..." I rub the back of my neck while trying to force my eyes to stay open. I need coffee asap. "Okay. You need me to come down?"

"Yes, she'd selected you as her proxy. We need you to sign the onboarding documents for her. I believe you're familiar with—"

"Yeah, I'm well-acquainted with the process." Kelly's still relatively new. I'm certain I've done this more times than her. "When do you need me there?" I glance at my watch. 03:17.

"The flight carrying her is set to arrive within the hour. Can you make it here by then?"

"Sure." My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting off an inevitable headache. "I'll be there in ten."

"Great. Thank you. So sorry to bother you, I know you're probably hard at work. I apologize if this is distracting or..." She probably means to say "puts you at risk" but she's smart enough to leave that unspoken.

"It's no problem. I'm," not happy. "I'm more than willing to do this for Ji-yeon. She would've done the same for me."

She literally would have. It occurs to me that I'll have to select a new proxy. Maybe I should just sign my own papers now. No, shut the fuck up. "Anyways," I tear my mind away from that disturbing thought. "I'll see you soon."

"Alright, see you. Thanks again."

End

My hand falls limply to the floor. The phone clatters onto the concrete. I allow myself a few seconds to stare into space, but I have no time to spare. That's more clear now than ever.

My knees crack as I rise to my feet. I'd been sitting weirdly at my desk all day. In general, yesterday was a bad day. I barely passed 15,000 words and Michael's already breathing down my neck. Almost a month has passed since my last big release. I've been worried, fearful that my well was drying up.

"You're too hard on yourself. Go to bed. Reset your brain."

Ji-yeon told me that. She's the reason I was in bed. Shit. She knew I was "asleep." Is that why she called her editor? Would she have called me if she—

I get dressed quickly. Forcing myself to stop thinking. Well, thinking about that. My mind turns to stories, to the words I'll have to write on the ride over, because I can't stop now. 

This... this can't happen to me.

I won't let it.

End of Part 1 of ? • NEXT PART

More Cursed Journey • More by Albie • Image Source

The amazing music video that inspired this:

[riiseandfall]

❝  alright,  okay—we’ll do this your way.  but i can’t promise there won’t be mild complaining.  ❞ peeta & alex < 3

@reblrths

it's like alex's whole expression lights up, eyes wide as they spin to look back at peeta. "really? don't you dare take it back." he's so used to being told no or being lectured about 'something something, be the better person'. as if they didn't take everything peeta said to heart--as if peeta didn't make alex want to be that better person. it was just...difficult for them. maybe it was due to the tension that hung around the tribute center or maybe this person really did cross a line--you would have had to in order to make peeta give alex the all clear to not hold their tongue anymore. "mm, no. you can't complain, you said i could. that means this is on you." and before peeta can say another word, alex has already taken off. "can't take it back, peeta!"