#posted image of him asking for followers thoughts and i still think about the replies my mutuals are really funny

[goldiipond]

maybe i was hyperfixed on tpn before my rewatch last year bc i literally binged the entire manga in 2 days after my first watch and cried over ray multiple times but i didn't post abt it bc i had been a mario blog since i started using tumblr and i knew my followers wouldn't really care and feeling of being ignored fucking kills me its the worst feeling ever to me. but then my s1 rewatch was like ok ive amplified your mental illness by about 50 times. good luck you autistic fuck

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

hi i love your work a lot i've been reading it a lot during this difficult blood moon time. i have a request if you don't mind tackling it!! this is gonna be very specific, but yandere! stalker x reader, BUT the yandere is not stalking reader -- the yandere is stalking a popular girl the reader knows in passing, and reader figures "well, i could use some extra cash", so reader approaches stalker and offers to sell phone numbers of popular girl, hangs out with stalker, and unintentionally ends up becoming the new target of stalker. surprised pikachu face on reader's end that her plan has backfired. bonus points if popular girl that same morning is like "i think stalker guy has finally stopped following me" before the reveal. thank you for reading :)

Based on your post, Imma assume she/her pronouns for our darling (you know what, I relate, gimme the money lmaoooo)

(Reader) slammed her hand down onto the cafe's table, startling the nervous looking man hiding behind his long, shaggy hair. He had been so focused on staring at Jenny (❤️), the angel of campus, and his unrequited love (of three months). Axle fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor as he scurried to hide it in his lap.

"Um.. hi?" His exhausted eyes darted around the coffee shop, too nervous to look directly at the woman standing above him. "May I help you?"

"So you're Jenny's stalker." (Reader) smiled coyly, pulling a chair closer towards Axle so she could sit uncomfortably close to him.

His pasty skin flushed deep maroon, sweating under the harsh accusation . "No, you're wrong, I-I'm not-"

The poor hooded man was cut off by (Reader) grabbing his camera, too horrified by the situation to make a scene in the packed area. (Reader) flipped through the pictures, her smile fading as her eyebrows knit into a disappointed scowl.

"Damn, these pictures... suuuuck."

Axle was shocked, not expecting that response. "What?" His face went slack like a fish, unable to compute the young woman's critique.

"They're all... blurry. And, off center? Out of focus..." She handed back his camera, now with a look of mild pity. "Dude.."

With shaky hands, Axle yanked the camera back, not knowing if he should still be scared that he was caught, or offended.

"When Jenny was talking about how nervous she felt, having a stalker, I thought.. I thought you would be different." (Reader) cupped her chin in her hands, leaning in further, forcing Axle to lean awkwardly to the side, away from the strange woman. She seemed to be debating something, carefully contemplating her next steps. "Are you going to kill her?"

Axle gasped, mortified. "No! No, I would never!" He denied, a little louder than he had meant to. Axle sat stiff, fiddling with his camera. "I just.. really like her." A cute little blush dusted his cheeks, making (Reader) pray she wasn't being a fool.

She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket, and pulled out a picture of Jenny, one not from her social media. Axle grabbed it, admiring how the sunlight looked like a halo illuminating Jenny's hair. "Where did you get this?" Axle asked, full of awe as he stroked the image.

"I took it." (Reader) replied smugly. "Do you want it?"

Axle nodded, unable to pry his eyes away from the image. (Reader) pulled the picture back out of his hands, watching him whimper with a cold, unamused expression on her face.

"Twenty bucks."

"Huh?"

"Twenty bucks, and this is yours." (Reader) sat back in her seat like a mob boss, legs spread wide and head cocked to the side.

Axle yanked his wallet out, and fished out a twenty, absolutely giddy over receiving such a wonderful picture of his beloved.

"Pleasure making business." (Reader) smiled, pleased with how easy it was to trap Axle in her web. "Of course, with how awful you are at stalking, will you be okay with just that little picture?"

The young man froze. Of course, she was right. He was clumsy and skittish, often getting noticed while following Jenny, getting chased by campus police. Even the pictures he took of her were rubbish. "What do you mean?" Axle asked only to be sure he wasn't misunderstanding the situation.

"I'll help you out. I'll continue taking pictures for you, get you private information on Jenny, whatever you want. And you pay me."

He smiled oddly. "Pay? What you're doing is a crime, and you're fine with that?"

(Reader) grinned back childishly. "As long as you pay me."

Despite how uncomfortable Axle was with the strange young woman who hadn't even introduced herself, he couldn't pass up this opportunity.

~ 1 week later ~

Axle waited behind a dumpster, not quite sure how X had gotten his phone number. He still hadn't learned the mystery woman's name, only that she was eccentric, and possibly watched too many crime thrillers. (Reader) had told him to call her X, thinking it best that he didn't know her true identity.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when (Reader) popped up behind him. "You got the cash?" Axle squeaked, grabbing his heart.

"You scared me!" Axle stuttered out, looking better than he had the first time they met. His hair was no longer greasy, and the bags under his eyes had lightened up.

'Looks like he's had more time to take care of himself, now that I'm doing the dirty work for him.' (Reader) thought, staring daggers at Axle. He became flustered under her gaze, shifting anxiously.

"What are you looking at?"

"Just wondering why you're stalking Jenny in the first place." Axle pouted, thinking that maybe this was just a set up to bully him. "You're actually pretty handsome when you've showered."

"Huh?"

"Like, conventionally speaking, by societal standards, you are attractive. Maybe stop slouching and find a better jacket? But yeah, pretty sure if you took care of yourself and just approached Jenny like a normal human being she would have liked you."

His ears became warm at (Reader's) words, trying not to smile at the image of Jenny calling him handsome.

"But, better for me that you're a weirdo." (Reader) smiled playfully, holding out a manila envelope full of pictures she had printed out. "Money!" She said it like a question, empty hand opened expectantly.

Axle grumbled, plopping a wad of cash into her hand as he grabbed the envelope, heart palpitating as he saw more exquisite pictures of Jenny. Each one was amazing, with a sense of professionalism in their quality.

"These are incredible."

"Yeah, yeah. She's, like, super hot, I know." (Reader) absentmindedly responded while counting her earnings.

"I meant the pictures, dick."

(Reader) then did something unexpectedly, she stopped counting, and it looked like a little blush bloomed ever so faintly, genuinely surprised by the compliment. "Oh. Uh, thanks."

Axle noticed the way her back went rigid and the way she averted her eyes. It was.. kinda cute. His brain short circuited. Did I just think she's cute?

~ 2 weeks later ~

Axle's door knocked insistently, rousing him from his slumber. No one ever visited his apartment, not even his parents, so Axle was suspicious of who it could be. "I'm coming!"

He unlocked the door to find X, standing their with a shit eating grin on her face. "I never want to hear you say that again."

(Reader) brushed past the blushing mess, barging into his dark and creepy apartment. "How - why - how??" Axle was almost on the verge of tears, zipping around his apartment faster than the Flash to try and clean up, scooping up arms full of dirty underpants and pizza boxes, and just throwing them into a closet.

"Because I'm actually good at my job, that's how." She smiled triumphantly, flopping onto his bed while taking off her bag. "You know, it was really easy making friends with Jenny. She's so sweet.. it makes me feel a little guilty." (Reader) faked a sniffle, pretending to be torn up. "Maybe we should end this.."

"What? No!" Axle panicked, immediately regretting acting like a fool, as "X" removed her hands from her face, revealing dry eyes and a sarcastic smirk.

"Maybe I'll stay.. if you give me a raise."

Axle looked shocked, like he had actually believed (Reader). It was cute. "Fine.. whatever." He groaned, still standing with his arms cross.

"Aren't you going to sit down? I've got some things to show ya." (Reader) patted the bed.

"No!" Axle replied way too quickly, embarrassed about sitting with a girl in his bed. "I mean.. I'm fine standing." He rubbed his neck, avoiding eye contact as usual.

"You know, I know I'm not Jenny levels of hot, but it hurts that you never even look at me." (Reader) deadpanned, pulling out a pad of paper from her backpack, along with another envelope of pictures. "In this little notebook I have Jenny's phone number, her mom's phone number, her dad's phone number, I have her dorm address, I have her family's home address, I have the contact info for her past three exes, and I also wrote down some stuff I learned from talking to her, like the kind of guy she likes, her favorite food, her allergies, a bunch of stuff."

Axle was shocked, and kind of startled, by how thorough (Reader) was. He enjoyed following Jenny between classes, making sure she got where she needed to go, and yeah he liked climbing up the side of the dormitory to try and watch her sleeping, but this was beyond anything he ever could have hoped for.

"Wow. Maybe you do deserve that raise." He opened the envelope, ignoring (Reader) as she bragged about how she got all that information, overwhelmed yet again by (Reader's) photography skills. "Have you ever thought about becoming a photographer?"

(Reader) paused her rambling, nervously shifting her gaze away. Axle was beginning to suspect that she didn't receive compliments all that often, which was a shame, because she certainly was talented. Axle felt his heart thump heavily again.

"I, uh, never thought about it.." (Reader) lied. "Why, you think I should?"

Why did she look so cute right now, nervously asking a creep who was paying her to stalk someone if he approved of her talents?

As he was about to answer, he found a selfie of Jenny and (Reader) together. "What's this?"

"Oh, sorry that wasn't supposed to be in there. Jenny saw my camera and asked if we could take a pic together." (Reader) made a move to grab it, but Axle held it up out of her reach. Strangely, he realized that he had never seen the two side by side, and for some reason in the picture of the two of them together Ms. X was way cuter.

"I'll keep this one too."

"Huh? Why?"

"I like it."

~ 1 month later ~

Axle stared into the bright blue light of his laptop, looking at (Reader's) face. It was difficult to find her, as she didn't have much of a social media presence, and Axle didn't know her name, but he finally found her. He kept telling himself that he was just curious in what kind of lunatic agreed to work as a professional stalker, and why the hell was she so good at it? But as he lost track of time staring at the terrible family photos her mother posted online, he started to question why he never seemed to notice her before.

It felt even worse, since she noticed him.

The pictures she took were all neatly packed in a drawer except for the selfie she took with Jenny. Axle kept arguing with himself, insisting that that was simply the best picture of Jenny by far. But he knew deep down it wasn't the truth.

He had started to lose sleep again, trying to dig up information on his partner on crime. Partners in crime. Axle smacked himself in the head, pulling his hoodie down over his mop of hair. Unfortunately, he was a college student, and had classes to attend.

Out in the corridor, he heard the most wonderful sound in the world. (Reader's) maniacal laughter. Even when out with normal people, (Reader) didn't mask who she was. She was walking with a group of popular students, all cracking up over something one of them had said, and Axle was jealous.

(Reader) looked so natural with that crowd, hanging out like she wasn't a loser like him, glowing so brightly that Axle didn't see Jenny right away. He knew (Reader) said that she had "infiltrated their ranks" in order to learn more about Jenny for him, but it was still incredible to see. Axle wondered if he would look just as natural by their side, after all, (Reader) had said that Axle was "handsome". He suddenly became self conscious, regretting not showering before he left his apartment. When was the last time he washed this coat? Why hadn't he bought a new one when (Reader) suggested it?

It was almost like he had to remind himself to look at Jenny. She didn't look as angelic as he remembered.

~ 2 months later ~

"What made you like Jenny?" (Reader) asked, scrolling on her phone while lounging on Axle's bed. Axle was watching (Reader) while pretending to look at the pictures she had taken. She was so exposed, lying there as though this was just a friend's place, not a man's bed. Axle tried not to feel excitement seeing (Reader) so comfortable in his presence.

"I'm, um, not sure." And that was the truth. Why did he like Jenny? The way she smiled? Was it simply how beautiful she was?

The more he grew to know (Reader) as a person, the more beautiful he found her to be. Jenny paled in comparison to (Reader).

It was too embarrassing to tell (Reader) the truth, that the woman he loved so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her 24/7, now simply didn't interest him. Not like (Reader) did. If I take a picture of her, would she hate me?

"You should take more selfies." Axle stated, out of the blue.

"Why?" (Reader) snorted.

"Because you're pretty.." He blushed softly, smiling at the picture of (Reader) he kept on his desk.

~ 4 months later ~

(Reader) smiled wide eyed, almost unable to contain her surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, he's just, disappeared." Jenny took a sip from her coffee, confused but not complaining. "I haven't noticed that creepy fuck following me around, like, at all lately."

Many thoughts passed through (Reader's) mind like rapid fire. Was everything okay with Axle? Did he lose interest in his beloved? And if he did, was she no longer going to get paid?!

(Reader) ran to Axle's apartment as soon as the coast was clear. Partially worried for his well being, mostly worried for her pay check.

She didn't bother knocking, instead throwing open the door like she owned the place. Axle stood in the middle of his room, confused, and pink in the face. He had a fresh hair cut, showing off his dark eyes, and he had a new outfit on, one that fit him better than his oversized stained hoodie. "(Reader)? What are you doing here?"

"I was just-" she stuttered, blushing violently. He was incredibly attractive, towering over her now that he was standing with better posture. "Wait, how did you know my name?!"

An ominous feeling crept over her, as she thought about how many times she laid in his bed, not knowing that he was falling out of love with his target. He smiled sweetly at (Reader), behind him was a new camera he had bought for her, as a gift. Axle had meant to propose a new deal with (Reader), requesting pictures of her instead, but she had caught him dressing up in the clothes he bought to impress her. He pulled her into his room.

(Reader) only noticed the pictures of her scattered across the floor as Axle locked the door.

[milla-frenchy]

The agreement (Blackmail part 2)

4k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Joel Miller (post OB) Chapt summary: you can't get Javi out of your head. You and Joel go back for more Warnings: 18+ mdni. sharing, oral (f/m receiving), unprotected piv, spitting, cum eating, anal play, threesome, double vag penetration, double creampie, degradation. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you so much for beta-ing me again 💕💕💕🫶🫶 And helping me with the title 😭 Playlist | ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist

Part 1

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Joel, whose cock was buried deep in your pussy. He stopped and looked at you thoughtfully. He gently stroked your hair.

“Are you with me, darlin’?”

“Yeah, sure. I'm here, baby.” You put your hands on his hips and pushed your pelvis towards him, so he could continue fucking you.

Joel began to fuck you slowly again, scrutinizing you with his eyes. He slipped his hand down to your pussy and rubbed your clit under his thumb, gently, the way he knew how to do so well.

“Come for me,” he murmured.

In a few seconds you were cuming, followed by Joel pulling out just before jerking off, and shooting his cum all over your lower stomach. He grabbed a towel from the nightstand and wiped you off.

He lay down next to you, his elbow bent and his hand holding his head up, facing you.

"Tell me what’s happening."

“I’m fine, Joel. Just tired."

You had returned from Bill and Frank’s the day before, after your supply trip.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t ya?”

You lowered your gaze feeling the guilt. 

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and Joel wiped them away with his thumbs when they started to fall.

“Sweetheart… It’s ok. We went to his apartment after a  mutual agreement. I know that what happened was unexpected. For both of us. But… I liked it too.” He was trying to meet your gaze.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I should have… stayed detached.”

“Baby… it’s not like we can block our emotions. This is the principle of emotions. And isn't it better this way? Rather than fuckin’ a guy who would have disgusted you. I'd rather have seen you enjoying it."

You hugged him and said “I love you, Joel.”

“I love you, baby.”

You hadn’t talked about that night before this moment. Joel showed no resentment. But you were disturbed and had trouble getting the images of the evening out of your head. When you were making love to Joel, Javi's face would sometimes appear in your thoughts.

And you felt guilty.

You went out to do the planned tasks. You sorted the clothes collected by the patrols, and Joel cleaned the sewers. His task was arduous but it paid the best in ration cards.

You were walking towards your apartment late in the afternoon when you ran into Javi who was obviously going to take his night shift. You hadn’t seen him since that night.

“Hi, hermosa. Miller.”

“Peña”, Joel replied.

“Hello”, you whispered.

“Glad to see you returned safely from your outing.”

Joel grumbled “thanks.”

You tried to regain your composure and said “have a nice day” to Javi. He was looking at you, smiling. You blushed and said “let’s go, Joel.”

You continued on your way, Joel placing his hand against the small of your back and Javi watching you leave.

Joel and Javi crossed paths the next day.

“Did your outing go well?” Javi asked.

“We’re not friends, Peña.”

"Of course. We're doing business, that's all. You still seem a little tense. More than usual, I mean. Well, you're not exactly the most relaxed man I know,” Javi said with his usual insolence.

"Fuck off." Joel left without looking back.

The next week, you were finishing your work when you heard “Hi, Hermosa” behind you.

You froze before turning around and saying “Hi, Javi.”

“How are you, Hermosa?”

“Javi… you can’t call me that. It was business, that’s all.”

“Really?” he smiled kindly.

You looked at him annoyed but his soft teasing smile disconcerted you.

“I am available if you need to do business together again.”

And he left. You were stuck in place, feeling your panties getting soaked and said “Fuck!”

When you got back to the apartment, you lay down on the couch and quickly slipped your hands into your panties. You slipped your middle finger into your pussy to recover some wetness before sliding it over your clit and rolling it under your fingers. You put your other middle finger in your pussy and came quickly, feeling the spasms contracting it.

You said “Fuck…fuck!” again.

Joel returned shortly after. He hugged you and asked how you were.

“I saw Javi today. When I was leaving work. We just said hello.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself, sweetheart. It’s ok.”

You had been hugging for a few moments, then he said “you want to see him again, don’t you? Like the other night”

You pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Joel I… No… No. I don’t want to see him again.”

Joel took your hands and said “I understand why you do baby. Really. The way he behaved towards you… I understand.”

You looked at him questioningly. You couldn’t believe he was saying that to you. Joel had always been a gentle lover, attentive to your desires, but possessive. And there he was, proposing you to see Javi again, with the possible risks that this could entail for your relationship.

He hugged you again holding you close, and said “I love you, sweetheart. I'm not worried about our relationship. We are the survivors of a damn apocalypse, in a QZ where our life is reduced to picking up shit. What if we allow ourselves more? And if we can do it through him, then I'm ok with it."

“I don’t understand why you don’t wait for this desire to pass, baby...”

“Because I don’t want the temptation to consume you and be more difficult to manage. I prefer to anticipate it.”

You hugged him tighter and said “I love you, Joel. But are you sure?”

“100% baby. I loved it too, you know.”

The next day, Joel went to meet Javi.

“Miller?”

“I’ll be quick. She liked the evening at your place. She liked you, and she’s everything to me. I told her that if she wanted we could do it again. No need to ask if you agree with this idea, I think?”

"Course not. Are you ok with that?”

“I told you, she’s everything to me. So yeah. But no chair for me this time.”

Javi smiled and said “You impress me Miller. I don’t know if I'd be able to do it.”

“You would be.”

Javi smiled. "Tomorrow evening?"

Joel nodded and they went their separate ways.

The next evening, you arrived at Javi’s place. His apartment was as clean as the last time.

“Good evening, Hermosa. Joel.”

You noticed that it was the first time he called him by his first name.

“Good evening, Javi,” you replied.

“Javier,” Joel greeted him back.

“Come in for a drink.”

He suggested that you sit on the couch while you had a drink. You downed your drinks, enjoying them more than last time, even if you and Joel were slightly uncomfortable.

“Pe… huh… Javier. The conditions are the same as last time, okay?” He turned to you and added “you’re in charge.”

You nodded and Javi added “of course.”

Joel and Javi looked at each other and nodded. They stood up and took off their tops: brown shirt for Javi, denim shirt for Joel. They kept their jeans on.

You wondered where Javi had found such a dated shirt. Oddly enough, it suited him very well.

You looked at them, standing in front of you.

Two men with dark hair, Javi's darker.

Of equivalent size.

Javi was slightly more slender than Joel. His body was more agile, while Joel's was all strength.

Joel, a little older than Javi, stood more hunched.

His face was serious, marked by hardship, while Javi's was mischievous with a sparkle in his eyes.

Both were stunning, breathtakingly beautiful.

And both were just waiting for you.

Javi offered you his hand, and you took it getting up from the couch. You barely dared to look him in the eye. 

Javi leaned down to kiss your cheek, and said “there’s no reason to be embarrassed, Hermosa. The three of us are here because we want to, because the other evening went well. We want to have fun again. Joel and I, as well as you. Ok?

You looked at him, then Joel, who told you “he’s right sweetheart.”

You nodded and smiled, and said “ok.”

You held out your hand for Joel to come closer, and you kissed Javi on the lips.

Joel kept your hand in his as he moved closer to you. He came up against your back and kissed your neck. You moaned. Having these two men against you gave you butterflies in your stomach. You turned to Joel to kiss him while Javi was now against your back with his hands on your hips. He ran his hands up along your breasts and then down to your hips, breathing in your hair and neck.

Joel took off your shirt and Javi unhooked your bra before taking it off. Joel took the opportunity to take your breasts in his hands and caressed them gently. Javi placed kisses on your cheek, then up to your earlobe, his nose brushing against your skin. He moved down to your neck, his hands still on your hips, before sliding them down to your stomach and unzipping your jeans. He slid them down to your feet, kissing your body as he knelt down. You lifted your feet to remove each leg of your pants, as you kissed Joel. Javi stood up and ran his hand over your soaked panties, saying “mmm Hermosa” softly in your ear.

Joel took you by the hand and said “follow me, sweetheart” and led you to the dining room table where he leaned you against it, butt against the edge while Javi took off his jeans.

Joel pulled you closer to him, pressing his crotch against you. He was hard. He kissed you, hands on your hips, before leaning down to your breasts and taking one in his mouth while he caressed the other. He sucked on your nipple and swirled his tongue over it, before moving on to the other.

You looked at Javi then at Joel, waiting for his approval. He looked up at you and nodded. 

You said “Come here, Javi”. Javi approached, his cock erect and hard. You kissed him and took his cock in your hand, running your thumb over the tip and spreading the precum. He growled into your mouth. Joel stepped aside and removed his jeans and boxers, while Javi faced you. He placed his lips on yours and slipped his tongue into your mouth, mingling it with yours as you jerked him off.

Joel moved closer to you and you got on your knees. You looked at them in turn, before taking Javi in your mouth and jerking Joel off. You looked at them again. Joel's gaze was intense. You moved away from Javi before taking Joel in your mouth and jerking Javi off.

“Damn Hermosa… you’re fucking hot.”

“Get up, baby” Joel said before grabbing you to help you. “Sit on the table.”

You leaned against the table and Joel lifted you to sit on it. He spread your legs with his large hands before kneeling between them. “Lay down, baby” he said.

As you lay down, Javi moved closer, jerking himself gently. He said “fuck… Hermosa you’re so beautiful.”

Joel ran his tongue over your pussy and you moaned under his tongue. He spread the folds with his fingers and ran his tongue more gently before coming to tickle your clit.

“Will you suck my dick Hermosa?” asked Javi.

“Yeah, come here, Javi”, you replied.

You turned your head towards him, he was holding his cock at the base. You ran your tongue over it before placing your lips around his tip and caressing it with your tongue.

You felt Joel’s fingers dig into your pussy, while he focused on your clit with his tongue. You moaned, making Javi groan in turn as you sucked his cock further and further, depending on the rhythm of his hips.

Joel sat up and stood up, and said “make her cum Javier.”

They switched places, Joel bringing his cock to your mouth. “Wanna suck your cock, baby”, you said.

“Take it sweetheart. Suck my dick. Make me feel good in your mouth” you nodded and took him in your mouth, before feeling Javi’s breath on your pussy. He ran his tongue, his saliva mixing with Joel’s in your pussy.

“Doesn’t she taste good Javier?”

“Yeah… You taste so good Hermosa. Joel, you're a lucky bastard.”

Joel smiled at Javi for the first time, and looked back at you “You’re doing well, sweetheart. So good for us.”

You looked at him, before lowering your gaze to his cock which was sliding into your mouth.

Javi stuck his tongue into your pussy and was fucking you with it, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He held your legs apart with his hands. You placed your hand on his head, moaning more and more.

“You’re gonna cum baby, right? Come in his mouth baby. Soak his tongue.”

You stopped sucking him as your pleasure mounted, keeping him in your mouth until you came in Javi's mouth. He held his hands tight around you to keep your legs from moving too much and keep you within his reach, continuing to lick you until the spasms stopped. Joel pulled out of your mouth as Javi stood up, and bended over to twirl his tongue over your pussy again. You jumped at his touch on your overly sensitive clit, before caressing his head with your hands.

While Joel helped you get up, Javi went to sit on the couch and said “Come sit in my lap, Hermosa. Facing him."

You walked over to him before sitting on his thighs. He slid his hand up to your pussy, avoiding your overly sensitive clit for the moment, but sliding his middle finger into your hole.

“Come get sucked Joel,” Javi told him.

Joel came closer to you and said “open sweetheart. Stick out your tongue.” You did as he told you, waiting for him with your tongue out. He placed his cock on your tongue, grabbing your chin with his hand to lift it up, and dripped his saliva onto his cock, watching it slide down to your tongue. And he slid his cock into your mouth. Your eyes were fixed on him. Javi grabbed one of your breasts with his other hand, continuing to gently slide his middle finger into your pussy.

You didn't move, letting Joel handle the movements. He pushed himself deeper and deeper into your throat, his hand resting on your head, the other falling down his body.

Javi said “give me a second Joel” and Joel withdrew. Javi grabbed his cock in his hand and lifted you up, pushing his cock into your pussy and you impaled yourself on it “oh god… Fuck, Javi…”

“Missed my cock Hermosa?”

You looked at Joel before answering, who nodded.

“Answer him baby. Tell him.”

“Yeah fuck… yeah I missed it.”

“I missed you too, Hermosa. You have quite an effect.”

Javi lifted you with his hands, and moved his hips to start fucking you. His movements were slow, and allowed Joel to come back into your mouth. You let him resume his pace, your lips wrapping around his shaft.

“Are you still too sensitive, baby?” asked Joel.

“No… I don't think so Joel. It’s ok.”

Joel knelt down and watched as Javi’s cock slid into your pussy. Your wetness slid down to his balls. He came closer and licked your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh god, Joel!” The sensations were indescribable. Javi’s cock was buried in your pussy, your legs raised. Javi held them apart. Joel sucking on your clit.

“Fuckin hell hermosa… you’re so hot. So good for us.”

You placed your hands on either side of Joel’s face and leaned against Javi’s chest, letting him lead the pace. You heard Joel grunting against your clit.

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum again. Fuck…”

“Come on, baby. Come on his tongue and on my cock. I wanna feel you squeeze me again and soak me. Couldn’t stop thinking about it since the other night.”

You came, throwing your head back and squeezing Joel’s head so hard he groaned.

Joel pulled away to look at where your two bodies met and said “fuck baby… such a fuckin’ slut. Let’s go to the bedroom now.”

As you were about to get up, leaning forward to support yourself on your feet, Javi held you, hands on your hips and fucked you at a fast pace “fuckin’ soaked hole...” before letting you get up.

Once in the room, you lay down on the bed and said “come fuck me Joel.”

Joel lay on top of you and thrust into you, making you moan.

Your gaze was fixed on him but you were lost in your emotions. You loved everything about this evening. The way they fucked you, the way they shared you.

You stared at Joel. Intensely.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want you to…” You bit your lip.

“Tell me,” he said, thrusting hard.

You cried out in surprise, and said "I want you to talk to me. Dirty. Joel, please…"

“Fuck… you want me to tell you what a slut you are? Wanna hear it out loud?”

“Yes Joel…fuck…yes, please.”

"I can't believe you were reluctant to come back here, when your slutty holes just wanted to be filled by both of our cocks."

He grabbed your chin in his hand and added "That's what you wanted? To be filled by two cocks? Mine isn't enough for you, you need two big, fat cocks?"

He brought his hand down and squeezed your throat. His gaze was black. He held you so tightly that you could just nod your head.

“We’ll give you what you want.”

He released his grip on your throat, continuing to thrust into you.

“Javi, I want you in my mouth.”

Javi knelt on the bed, holding his cock in his hand. You looked at him, and stuck out your tongue.

“Fuckin christ, woman,” Joel said, fucking you harder.

Javi placed his cock on your tongue, just the tip. He jerked himself off while watching you, then Joel fucking you. And he slid his cock into your mouth, you rounded your lips to welcome him. He placed his hand on your cheek, and felt his cock through your skin.

Joel buried his head in your neck, kissing it, then came to bite your earlobe. His head brushing against Javi’s hand, before pulling out of you.

“Come fuck her Javi.”

Javi smiled, before saying “you like being shared by our two cocks, huh?” You nodded, looking at Joel.

Javi came and lay down between your legs and slid his cock inside you.

Joel was standing next to the bed, jerking off gently. “You take both of our cocks so well darlin. You’re doing so well for us.”

He walked over and fondled one of your breasts, still jerking off. He leaned towards you and said “open up baby”. As you opened your mouth, he spat in it and clamped your jaw shut with his hand.

“Fill her up javi. Then I’ll fill her cunt too.”

You groaned at his words.

“Look at me hermosa. You're going to get filled by two cocks, like a little slut. Is that what you want?"

“Yes! Yes Javi, that’s what I want.”

“Yeah? Want your pussy filled with both our cum? Wanna feel them running down your thighs?”

You nodded.

"Ok baby. I'll give you what you want.” He picked up the pace and put his arms under your shoulders to fuck you harder. Joel was still jerking off next to the bed.

“Fuck…I’m gonna cum hermosa. Gonna fill this tight cunt.”

He thrusted in two more times before spreading his cum deep inside your pussy. Once his balls were empty, he withdrew, and Joel took his place instantly. He looked down at your folds to see Javi's cum starting to leak out. He ran his fingers around picking some up and stuffing them into your pussy.

“You want both of us, right? Can't miss a drop baby.”

He lay down between your thighs and bottomed out in one go. He put his fingers covered with Javi's cum in your mouth for you to lick them.

“Fuck. Such a slut. With your pussy dripping with the cum from another man. You’re so fucking soaked of his cum and so wet, I'm sure you could take both of our cocks in your pussy."

He growled against your ear, and his words hurried your orgasm.

“You’re such a whore, you know that?”

“Yes Joel…yeah.”

“Tell me what you are.”

“I’m a whore. I’m a fucking whore.”

Javi sat in the chair watching the whole scene.

Joel picked up the pace, unable to stop talking. “Can’t believe it, I thought you were a nice girl who wanted only my cock. But one cock isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”

You couldn't answer anymore. He smacked your cheek. Not too hard. “Fuckin answer me.”

“Fuck. I want two cocks Joel. I want your two cocks. So bad.”

“Shit… I’m gonna fill you too.”

He grunted before thrusting deep inside you and shooting his load. Your orgasm rushed over you.

“Oh god Joel…” 

He collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.

He finally got up while you were still lying down, and said “come see this Javi.”

The two men were standing at the foot of the bed, looking at your sore pussy, with their cum leaking out.

You heard the curfew sirens and Joel looked worriedly at Javi, who replied “stay here tonight. It's too late for you to go back. The bed is big enough, we’ll squeeze in.” The two men came to join you, each from one side.

You fell asleep.

You woke up a few hours later, Joel and Javi’s bodies pressed against you. You felt some of their cum still leaking from your pussy but you didn't have the courage to go to the bathroom. Javi was against your back, his cock resting against your ass.

You stretched your ass towards him, at the same time as you took Joel’s cock in your hands, jerking him gently. You felt them wake up at the same time.

Javi’s hand came to squeeze your breast, before moving down to your thigh. He lifted your knee to give himself access to your pussy, and you felt the tip of his already hard cock directly slide into your hole.

Looking at Joel, you saw that his gaze was on you.

“Looks like you don’t need any preparation to take his cock baby? Still full of our cum huh?”

You bit your lip and just nodded, while Javi was pounding in you.

“Don’t stop jerking me off,” said Joel. You resumed your movement, stopped when Javi entered you.

“How is her pussy, Javi?”

“Ruined. I slide in so easily.”

“Mmmm” Joel muttered. Lie on your back Javi.”

Javi withdrew before settling in as Joel asked.

“And you sweetheart, come ride him.”

You moved on top of Javi, before grabbing his cock in your hand and pushing it inside you.

“Is the lube still in the top drawer?”

“Yeah.”

Joel went to get it and coated his cock with it, before putting the bottle down.

"You’re gonna prepare my ass, Joel?”

“It’s not your ass I’m gonna fuck."

“Wait what? I never…”

“There’s always a first time, baby.”

You looked at Javi with a panicked look, but he just said “come on Hermosa. You’re fuckin’ soaked and still dripping our cum from last night. You’ll take us easily.”

Joel kneeled behind you and spread your ass cheeks.

“Fuck… you’re gonna be so full….”

He leaned against Javi's cock, which had stopped his movements. Joel started to thrust and told you to lean on Javi’s chest.

You leaned forward and felt Joel’s cock sink into you.

“Fuck…Fuck! Joel, wait. It's too much. I don’t think I can -”

“Yes, you fuckin’ can.”

He didn't stop. He felt the walls of your pussy adjust to the two of them. He continued to thrust until his balls were against Javi's.

Looking up, you saw the look in Javi’s eyes, who nodded at Joel. And they both moved. 

“Oh fuck… Cant’ believe… God. Cant’ believe I’m getting fucked by two cocks."

Javi smiled and kissed you, before telling you “you’re really doing well Hermosa, you’re so good for us.”

“You can do better, darlin’.“

“What? What do you mean, Joel?”

Joel put his thumb in his mouth and spat on your ass. He caught the saliva with his thumb before applying it to your asshole.

“Shit Joel…”

“Stop whining. I know you like it” and he pushed his knuckle into your ass.

“Fuck..Yeah. Yes I do.”

Joel smiled as he looked at Javi.

You felt full. Two cocks in your pussy, Joel's thumb in your ass.

Joel told you “I’m sure if there were three cocks here, you’d take one in your mouth.”

“Fuck yeah…I bet she would”, added Javi.

They continued for a few minutes, and you heard Javi breathing harder.

“You’re gonna cum Javi? You’re gonna cum in my pussy?”

“Yeah Hermosa…I’m gonna fill you again.”

“Go ahead Javi. Cum in her pussy, and don't pull out until I fill her too. Not gonna be long.”

Your clit had been rubbing against Javi’s crotch for several minutes, and you felt like you were going to cum soon too.

“Fuck… yeah… ‘m gonna fill you Hermosa. Oh… oh god….”

Javi's cock twitched as he came, his cock crushed against Joel's.

“Fuck. I’m gonna fill you too baby.”

Joel growled louder and louder, and you felt Javi’s cum starting to leak out of your pussy.

Joel stiffened and shot his cum into you. 

He collapsed on top of you, still straddling Javi and you came for the last time that night, full of their cum.

Before pulling out, Joel said, “You’re gonna have to help me find more after pills, Javi.”

Part 3

**********************

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[idoodlestuffsometimes]

Hi, I just read through your Brother’s Keeper AU and I love it!! I was wondering what Eda thought of Lord Metanoy—if she thinks he’s faking it for propaganda purposes, or figured out that Belos is the one who hurt his brother, or thinks it’s something else entirely? And by extension, what does Luz think of him?

Brother's Keeper AU Story Post 13

Luz is still getting her bearings in this strange new world. Eda, meanwhile, has more pressing things to worry about, but she's suspicious of propaganda from the get-go.

AU MASTER POST

BEGINNING | PREVIOUS | NEXT

[Image ID under the cut]

[IMAGE ID: A black and white pencil-sketched comic. PANEL ONE: Luz, Eda, and King, perched on Eda's shoulder, have stopped on their way down the street. Eda carries a sale banner draped over one arm and Luz is holding a box of random human knick-knacks. Luz reads one of the propaganda posters with a picture of Caleb hunched in his wheelchair, reading: "REMEMBER METANOY'S MADNESS, BEWARE THE DANGERS OF WILD MAGIC." "Eda, what is this supposed to mean, anyway?" asks Luz. "Who is this guy?" "Ah, that's just old Mad Metanoy, the emperor's brother." answers Eda. She gestures wildly, eyes sarcastically wide. "They say, he went CRAZY from wild magic." PANEL TWO: Eda picks her teeth, unimpressed, hand on her hip. "With all this dumb coven stuff, though," she says. "I say it's the WORLD that's gone crazy and maybe he's the only sane one." On top of her head bounces a pair of novelty spring-loaded googly eye glasses. PANEL THREE: Luz looks up at the poster, concerned. "Haha, insanity!" exclaims King off-panel. PANEL FOUR: Eda and King continue on their way. "Hey, Eda," says King, one hand to his cheek, "will YOU cast a wild magic curse to drive MY enemies to madness?" "Sure thing, pal." she replies. "I'll let you know once I figure out how." Luz follows after them. In the foreground, the propaganda poster remains. /End ID]

[allieslittlewritings]

*not my gif <3

Baby Girl

Summary: Spencer getting a baby daughter

Set in: Season 13-14

Warnings: Spoilers for seasons 8-13 of Criminal Minds, vague mention of abortion, bad writing, an oc!mom

Word count: 900-1k

A/n: I've never posted a fic before so if this sucks and nobody sees it I'm sorry <3

★

Spencer always thought in an ideal world, he would have children.

He never bothered to think of how many, knowing that would be more up to his future wife than to him.

He'd always just assumed he'd get married before having children one day.

After everything that had happened to him, Maeve dying, going to prison, the shit Cat had pulled, finding out his mom had Altzheimer's, and everything else that was certainly less than ideal, he'd started to think more and more that he simply wasn't meant to be a dad.

When a girl he'd only gone on a few dates with, months ago, told him she needed to talk to him, he was confused.

Emma was a nice girl, they just didn't fit well together so their relationship didn't last long.

She'd asked him to meet her at a random coffee shop.

He had the idea of her being pregnant for one second before he convinced himself that was ridiculous.

He entered the coffee shop Emma had chosen and went to sit accross from her.

Some boring small talk followed about how their careers and lives were going.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant." Emma finaally blurted out, clearly nervous.

Spencer had heard a lot of radicalizing things in his life.

A lot of unexpected things had happened to him.

In his line of work, a lot of things altered his perspective and way of thinking.

This one was different.

"You're..." He trailed off in shock.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest, I don't want the baby, but I'm too far along now to get an abortion. I'm about to start looking for potential adoptive parents, but I thought maybe you'd want input on who it goes to, too."

As muddled and confused as Spencer's brain felt, he immediately replied, "No. I'll take it. I mean, I'll take care of it. Of the baby."

"Are you sure you want to do that? You've already got a lot on your plate..." She pointed out.

"I'm sure." He said softly, without an ounce of hesitation.

★

Spencer was in an odd haze everytime he remembered he was about to become a parent.

He knew it wouldn't be easy, taking care of a child and having such a demanding job.

But he also knew he could never live with the knowledge that he had a child somewhere and they're not with them.

If they're with him, he can keep them safe.

He could make sure his child didn't grow up alone, like he did.

★

Spencer and his baby's mother sat quietly in a waiting room.

Spencer was attending his first ultrasound.

He sat, in thought.

A nearly empty cup of coffee in his right hand.

His lip was being lightly picked at with his left.

He took one last sip of his coffee and went to throw the now empty cup away.

His sweaty hands were starting to annoy him.

The restless feeling wouldn't go away.

Emma's name was called and the pair went into the ultrasound room.

Spencer picked at his fingers as he watched Emma and the ultrasound tech set everything up.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear any of the little things the women talked about.

Everything in him froze when he heard it.

A heartbeat.

His baby's heartbeat.

"So, would you like to know the baby's gender?" The doctor asked.

The women looked at Spencer, waiting for an answer.

He stood dumbfoundedly, staring at the grainy image of his baby on the moniter.

Their heartbeat still the loudest, best thing he'd ever heard.

"Spencer?" Emma gently nudged him.

Spencer finally snapped out of his haze and quickly wiped away a stray tear rolling down his face.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?" The doctor asked again.

"Uh, no. No, I want it to be a surprise." His eyes remained on the moniter, he couldn't pull his eyes away from it.

★

Spencer prepared for the day Emma gave birth as best he could.

He was actually grateful for his sabbaticals now, it gave him a lot more prep time.

He read about a hundred books on labor and childbirth.

And give or take twice as many on actual parenting and child care.

He did as much research as humanly possible.

But one thing he'd learned over the years, is no matter how much research you do or how many books you read, the actual topic you're researching and preparing for is never quite the same.

★

His anxiety in the last few weeks before the baby came skyrocketed.

Worry overtook him nearly every minute of the day.

What if he hasn't done enough?

What if there's something important that slipped his mind?

What if he'll actually be a terrible father and he'll mess up the best thing to ever happen to him?

What if he-

"It's a girl!" The doctor announced.

Much like when he heard his daughter's heartbeat for the first time, he froze.

A girl.

He had a daughter.

She was here.

He watched as the doctors and nurses scurried around doing things, to make sure his baby was well and healthy.

His baby.

He had a baby.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Covered in blood and vernix, his daughter.

Her loud, very infant-like cries filled the room.

Not a new sound to the doctors, they continued with their routine work.

It was the most grounded Spencer had felt in months.

She was here.

His baby was here and she needed him almost as much he needed her.

★

Spencer tiredly rubbed his eyes, the wide range of emotions from the day catching up to him.

He walked tiredly to the room where Y/N was, a hint of confusion on his face.

The exhaustion was evident in his posture and his droopy eyes.

But now was not the time to sleep, he was walking to go be with his daughter.

He entered the room she was in and sat down in a chair next to the basin his baby lay in.

"Hi," He whispered to her, gently resting his hand on her tiny stomach.

His baby gurgled and looked up at him with big eyes.

A tired smile graced his face as he gently stroked his daughter's head.

He could stay there forever.

Just him and his daughter.

She was the most the beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" He quietly asked her.

His baby gripped his finger with her hand, continuing to quietly make baby noises.

"Yeah. We're gonna be okay."

fin. ♡

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Rev. 22:20 - Chapter Four: Saviours and Saints

Warnings: Talk of religion, angst, sexually suggestive language. Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: Aemond deals with the shame of his confession, leading him to get closer to the novice..

Main series masterlist.

Author's note: I do not have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications to be updated when I post a fic. Community labels are for cops.

The moment Aemond spills over his knuckles with a choked grunt, shame weighs heavily upon his chest. Disgusted with himself, he cleans himself off, the very act of wiping away his spend feels as though he is scrubbing away his irrational thoughts, though he cannot evade them for long. 

Of course a novice would not be touching herself to his words, especially not while inside the confessional booth in the Sept. He is a fool to entertain such a notion, has allowed his lust and recklessness to direct his actions; but no more. He will simply stay away from the Sept, until he can keep his thoughts and urges under control, and put this woman out of his mind. Perhaps he ought to apologise to her.

I imagine taking her virtue.

He feels his cheeks blaze at the memory. How could he ever begin to say he is sorry for such crassness? Worse still, it would be a disingenuous apology because, despite their utter depravity, he meant every word. In spite of the risk it poses, he still wants her, is still enamoured by the way her eyes catch the light, the softness of her voice.

I think about how she’d feel writhing beneath me.

His chest tightens, his heart beating rapidly as the thought occurs to him that she may tell someone. What if she was so appalled by what he’d said to her that she had divulged it to one of the septas? What if they tell his mother? He feels bile rise in his throat at the image of her looking at him with the same disappointment that she so often stares at Aegon with. He really is no better than his wastrel of a brother.

Aemond drums his fingers anxiously on the arms of his chair, keeping his gaze fixed upon the flames within the fireplace. His stoic demeanour does nothing to betray the maelstrom that rages inside of his mind, as he sits and waits for the inevitable moment that his mother will fling open the doors to his chambers and scold him, just as she has done to Aegon each time he has forced himself upon one of the maidservants.

He has no idea of how much time has passed, but eventually, the door creaks open - to his surprise, not in an angry burst, but with quiet trepidation. He turns and meets the soft, hopeful gaze of Helaena, a tight smile upon her lips.

“Did you see Dreamfyre?” She asks, keeping her hands clutched in front of her as she moves slowly towards him.

As she draws nearer, he sees a golden beetle brooch clasped within her fingers, her thumbs running over its ridges as she anxiously awaits his reply. Aemond loathes the nervous habits passed down to them all by their mother - where she picks her nail beds bloody, Aegon flexes his fingers against every surface, taps incessantly against his wine goblet. He drums on the arms of his chairs, rubs his forefingers against his thumbs, while Helaena is always clutching something, fiddling with some small trinket to soothe her inner turmoil.

He keeps his eye fixed upon the beetle for a few moments more before looking at his sister.

“Yes,” he replies simply, thinking about the sorry state the she-dragon had been in when he’d seen her earlier that day.

Helaena kneels beside his chair, not a care for how the position rumples her skirts, gazing up at him imploringly. “How is she?”

Aemond is struck at this moment by how childlike his sister appears. Despite her being the elder sibling, he has always felt seniority over her, an intrinsic need to protect her. She is so innocent, so filled with wonder, and his brooding darkness has forever served as the shield that ensures her light is never snuffed out.

He swallows thickly, going against all of his natural protective instincts and his earlier thought to water down the truth and not cause Helaena upset. Right now he needs to look out for himself, to ensure it is his sister that accompanies their mother on her next visit to the Sept instead of him. So he wields the words he knows will hurt her, against his better judgement.

“She…she is in a bad way,” he says quietly, his heart aching at the pain that fills Helaena’s eyes as her brow furrows, her bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

He has never hated himself more than in this moment, deliberately tormenting his sister to get his own way.

“I think you should accompany mother on her next visit to the Sept, go and see Dreamfyre, she needs you,” he tells her gently.

The movement of Helaena’s fingers against the brooch becomes more insistent as she blinks slowly, her lashline becoming watery. “But…the children–”

“Will be fine with the nursemaid for a few hours while you tend to your dragon,” Aemond tells her. “She needs you more than they do at the moment.”

Helaena nods slowly and Aemond wants nothing more than for her to just leave. He cannot bear to see her so sad, to know that he is the cause of it.

“I-I suppose you’re right,” she says, uncertainty colouring her tone as she rises to her feet. “Thank you.”

She places a gentle hand upon his forearm, where it rests upon the arm of the chair, and for a brief moment her face becomes vacant of all expression. “Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike,” she says, her voice hollow.

Helaena releases his arm, sniffing quietly before moving quickly from the room.

Aemond huffs a sigh of relief as the door clicks closed behind her. He is used to his sister saying all manner of strange things, however, there is something in her words this time that unsettles him, adding to the swirling dread that plays havoc in the pit of his stomach - another piece of tinder for the burning misery that rages white hot within his heart.

He is irritated over the following week, he had assumed ensuring that Helaena takes his place on Alicent’s next visit to the Sept would give him respite from his constant thoughts of the novice, knowing he wouldn’t have to see her.

Instead she is prominent in his mind as ever, but this time when he pictures the graceful slope of her neck and the silkiness of her hair, it is accompanied by the words he’d disgraced himself with in the confessional booth.

He is driven to distraction by a combination of crushing shame and unbridled lust. Nothing is able to fully occupy his mind, he replays their exchange over and over again, noticing that he has taken in none of the words on the page of the book he is attempting to read. He has gripped the cover with such force that his short nails have left crescent shaped indentations in its leather cover.

As Helaena and Alicent ready themselves to leave the Keep for the Grand Sept, it takes all of his restraint not to rush out to join them. He longs to see her, even speak to her again, and yet he knows he must not.

He is fortunate that it appears she has told no one of his indiscretion the previous week, however, there is nothing to say she won’t tell Alicent if she sees her today. It is a humiliation he cannot face.

It is better that he stays behind and continues in his efforts to simply forget about her, cast her from his mind, and attempt to return to his life as it was before he met her.

He is filled with restless energy and attempts to burn it off in the training yard, physically exhausting himself with the exertion of every slash of his sword and defensive block of his shield. Yet, while his body aches and fatigues, his mind refuses to cease its racing.

By the time Helaena and Alicent return, he is setting down his blade for the day. He rights himself to his full height, anxiously anticipating a withering look of disapproval from his mother as she walks through the yard. Perhaps it is today that she’ll have learned the words he sullied the ears of the young novice with.

Instead, to his relief, she gives him a small nod and smile as she moves past, eager to get back inside. She has never enjoyed watching the sparring sessions that occur in the training yard.

He ponders why the novice has not told anyone of what he said to her, but has little time to indulge his curiosity as Helaena makes her way towards him, looking much happier than when they’d last spoken.

“I saw her,” she tells him brightly, “I saw Dreamfyre. She ate the rest of her goat when she saw me. The keepers said she has been leaving most of it. I am happy to have lifted her spirits. Thank you for telling me.”

Aemond nods. “I am glad to hear it.”

“And perhaps we could fly together soon, like we did as children?” Helaena continues, looking hopefully up at him. “I will have more time to, once we have the new septa.”

Aemond blinks, swallowing thickly, feeling his heart freeze. “The new what?”

“The new septa”, Helaena repeats, oblivious to Aemond’s shock, “she is still a novice at the moment, but once she finishes her training she will be able to care for the children once they’re old enough to no longer need the nurse maid.”

If Helaena says anything else, Aemond does not hear it over the roar of blood in his ears, as silent panic settles over him. He quietly excuses himself and walks back inside, shutting himself away in his chambers.

This will be disastrous for him. If she hasn’t revealed his indiscretions yet, then she certainly will once she resides within the same four walls as him. He cannot allow this, he must ensure he silences her once and for all. The risk is simply too great to leave to chance.

Aemond bathes, changing into plain looking attire and dons a hooded cloak, ensuring his dagger is securely fastened to his belt, before leaving the Keep via the passages he has seen Aegon use to sneak away hundreds of times before.

His steps are sure and quick, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he strides through the streets of King’s Landing towards the Grand Sept. It occurs to him as he draws closer that he hasn’t fully considered what he intends to do. He has been so tightly wound over the last week, that he has sprung forth at the first opportunity for release, and now stands at the doors to the Sept, unsure of his next move.

Slipping through the slightly open door, his fingers flex around the pommel of his dagger. Has he come here to slash the novice’s throat? Spill her blood upon the chancel, for all of King’s Landing to see? 

Foolish. 

He should not have come.

But then he sees her. 

The sun is beginning to set, and if she’d looked beautiful the first time he’d seen her with the mid morning rays shining upon her face, she looks positively ethereal now, bathed in a warm orange glow.

He watches her, entranced, feeling as though he has forgotten how to breathe. His grip loosens upon his dagger, but he does not lower his hood, choosing instead to stay back in the shadows and watch her from afar.

Uncertainty regarding what he ought to do clouds his thoughts, but he is sure of one thing; he cannot turn back now he has seen her.

It is nightfall by the time she completes her duties, and Aemond is swift to follow her as she leaves the Sept, keeping back a few paces so he does not arouse her suspicion.

The walk through the narrow street seems incredibly dangerous to him, and it occurs to him that anything could happen to her as she makes her way back to her lodgings each day. He could do literally anything he wanted to her at this moment, and she’d be powerless to stop him. He draws in an unsteady breath, attempting to ground himself and clear the idea from his mind as he feels himself stir in his breeches.

He has never given much thought as to where it is that septas might go when they retire for the evening, but he is surprised at how humble the building she unwittingly leads him to is.

Waiting in the darkness, he watches her go inside, the door closing behind her.

He steps forward, trying the handle, expecting to find it locked, but is surprised when it opens with ease. She has forgotten to lock it. 

Stupid girl.

Every part of Aemond demands that he cease what he’s doing and return to the Red Keep, yet he is powerless to stop the force that propels him silently forward, carefully following the lingering herbaceous scent of camphor - it is burned regularly within the Sept, and he is certain it must cling to her hair and clothing - up the stairway and down a narrow corridor.

It feels more like a place where one might be held prisoner than find a comfortable night’s rest, a joyless existence in service of others, which each day ending in a room that may as well be a cell.

He pauses when he catches a glimmer of a candle light coming from one of the narrow doorways, illuminating a familiar head of soft hair.

Pressing back against the wall, he watches her, knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to help himself. His single eyed gaze is captivated as she removes her robes. She faces away from him, yet he is enraptured by the curve of her back, the swell of her backside and her shapely legs - legs that would look so good wrapped around his—

Screwing his eye shut, he swallows thickly, and when he opens his eye again she is wearing a nightgown. He exhales shakily, his hood slipping back from his head, watching as she slips into bed. Seeing she is about to snuff out the candle, he moves closer, telling himself he will allow himself one final look before he leaves. 

He will ask that his grandsire send him to Oldtown to be with Daeron before she is ever stationed at the Keep, and put an end to this once and for all.

Her quiet voice causes him to freeze in place, heart lurching.

“I knew you’d come.”

His fingers flex uselessly around the pommel of his dagger once more as she climbs out of bed and walks slowly towards him. He is rooted in place, eager to run from her but unable to.

She stops in front of him, impossibly close, the heady scent of camphor mixed with cloves fills his nostrils as they stare at each other in silence.

“I waited for you all day”, she finally says, “I knew I’d see you eventually. It’s why I didn’t lock the door when I returned.”

“That is dangerous”, he replies in a strained whisper.

“As are you, I am sure,” she says, cocking her head slightly.

He blinks, pursing his lips, his curiosity making it feel as though his skin sizzles with expectancy. “Why haven’t you told anyone…about what I said?”

She smirks, her eyes sparkle in the dim glow of the candlelight. “You and I are not so different.”

Aemond scoffs. “I hardly think so.”

“It is true,” she insists, “we are both angry over what we have lost.”

He narrows his eye at her. “And what is it you have lost?”

She giggles softly, though there is no real humour to it. “You assume me pure and virtuous, but it is not my faith in the Seven that has led me along this life path.”

Pausing, she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue, choosing her words carefully, before she continues. “Before I was forced to give up my life to the Seven, I came from a noble family. I fell in love with the son of a blacksmith. My father caught us…together, and the blacksmith’s son was sent to The Wall for sullying my virtue. No rich lord wants to marry a woman who is no longer a maiden, so my family handed me over to the faith to be trained as a septa.”

Aemond feels his pulse race as he listens to her confession, certain that this is how she must have felt when he’d revealed his darkest desires to her just a week prior. He opens his mouth, closing it again when he realises he is unsure of what to say.

She takes another step towards him, her nose almost brushing his as she looks up at him. “Do you still desire me? Does the fact that I am defiled turn your stomach, or does it make you want me more to know that I am all too willing to writhe beneath you as you rut into me, as you so eloquently put it?”

His mouth runs dry. Her words are crass, sinful, and yet his gaze drops to the fullness of her lips all the same.

It happens too quickly for him to know which of them moves first, but the kiss is hungry, possessive, his hands cup her jaw as she clutches the front of his cloak eagerly. 

Aemond has not kissed many women before - the servants he allows into his bed he does not permit such affection. Their purpose is for his pleasure only, he does not desire their lips upon his. Yet he moves his mouth against hers as though he means to suck the very air from her lungs, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest as he feels the wetness of her tongue caress his.

When they eventually break apart, both breathing heavily, the reality of what he has done settles over him like a viscous cloud. She is to be the septa for his niece and nephew, she is nothing like what he expected her to be. There is a familiarity to her that sets him on edge, and he is overwhelmed by the urge to get away. She is too much, too dangerous, he cannot get close to her.

Wordlessly he turns and walks quickly away, out into the night, back towards the keep, knowing in his heart he has done nothing to quell the deep seated ache of longing he feels for her; on the contrary, he has worsened it.

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

[resowrites]

Hot Seat - oneshot.

Summary: Henry is interviewed about life post-The Witcher…

Characters: AU!Henry Cavill, Wife!OC, Interviewer

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2817

A/N: This is something a bit different so I hope you all enjoy. Not that I should have to point it out but as with all my work, it’s pure fiction (as in completely made up) and not in any way meant to reflect reality. As ever, let me know your thoughts - R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Hot Seat - oneshot.

My first thought upon starting my interview with Henry Cavill is that I must have got my lines crossed. Instead of the 39-year-old Jersey-born actor, the featureless wall on the screen in front of reveals a woman. She quickly introduces herself and apologises for his absence. "Our puppy got into a multipack of toilet rolls and is still wreaking havoc, but he'll be right with you." This, as it turns out, is his partner Ollie. The 33-year-old financial advisor (she politely asks me not to give her full name as apparently "the people who care already know it"), has been with the actor for the better part of a decade though it's seldom publicised. They're occasionally pictured together but Henry, known for being one of the more private Hollywood actors, has given away few details about the relationship.

This, however, doesn't stop her from graciously chatting with me while we await his arrival. Having a son with her name, I ask if it's short for something else. "No, just Ollie. My parents were fans of Laurel and Hardy," she says with a shrug. So she's not actually Olivia? "Nope, though I suppose it could have been worse, they could have called me Stan," she replies drily. I tell her my wife and I are expecting a girl in the summer. "Oh how lovely - don't give her a boy's name." Duly noted. I then ask after Kal, Henry's longtime canine companion, and she assures me he's still alive and kicking. So what prompted the puppy? "Anniversary gift," she says between sips of water, though she doesn't give a name or clarify who gifted who. Moving on, I ask if she has any tips for interviewing Henry. "Talk slowly," comes her immediate response. It's not difficult to see how he fell for her, big twinkly eyes and a throaty laugh betray a quick wit that's similar to his own. I venture to ask what it's like being in a relationship with him. "Agonising. I mean his looks alone, I'm at a loss," she deadpans before another laugh. And the fame? "Honestly, it's not something I really think about. Our day-to-day life is very normal."

As if on cue, Henry enters the room with a large and very fluffy puppy trying to wriggle free of his arms. His eyes flash briefly with concern but she gives him a reassuring smile, thanks me for my patience, and wishes me well. She then pats Henry on the chest, tells him to behave himself, and disappears with the puppy in tow. The screen now fills with his impressive frame though his demeanour is infinitely milder - if slightly harried. "My apologies John. Akita's - can't live with them, can't live without them." Much has been made of the peaks and troughs of his Hollywood career. At one point in the early aughts, he'd missed out on multiple high-profile roles (Henry Cavill: Hollywood's unluckiest actor?) Finally bagging Superman in 2013 with Zack Snyder's Man of Steel, he proved capable of big returns and even bigger popularity (Henry Cavill: Superman for a new generation).

In 2013's Man of Steel (image credit: Warner Bros.)

This makes news of his recent departure from both Netflix's The Witcher (ostensibly because of creative differences), and DC's Superman franchise (due to the recent hiring of James Gunn as the studio's creative leader), all the more stupefying. But whether or not he really is Hollywood's 'unluckiest' actor, this isn't a term that reflects his life outside of the job, something which definitely marks him out from his contemporaries. In addition to a much-protected relationship (neither he nor his publicist confirms the status of it despite appearing to wear a wedding ring), he hails from a loving family and has a close-knit group of friends. He withdrew from a recent project (for reasons unrelated to the project itself), but is now in talks to appear in and produce an adaptation of Warhammer 40, 000 after Amazon recently secured the rights to the popular tabletop game.

In 2019's The Witcher (image credit: Netflix)

It's actually not the first time I've met Henry. Our paths once crossed some years ago in a hotel lobby though this brief encounter was part of a jam-packed press tour. Today's meeting isn't scheduled for a considerably longer time, but there's more than enough to discuss. A colleague did however warn me that despite a more ingenuous nature, he can make for a difficult interviewee. For the first part of our interview, I would be inclined to agree. Though pleasant, his answers border on glib and this is perhaps unsurprising given the recent twists and turns of his career. Happily, he warms up as our fourty minutes go by and on this occasion, is more revealing about life away from the cameras…

J: First thing's first, are you watching the Six Nations (an annual international men's rugby union competition)?

H: Yeah, it's been dismal though (England won just two out of five matches)… doesn't bode well for the World Cup does it?

J: No it doesn't. Now I know you can't say much at the moment about more recent as well as upcoming projects, but I wanted to get your take on the development of IPs for modern audiences. More than ever it seems a rather precarious business…

H: I think that's a fair assessment. There's lots of competition and only a finite amount of resources, so balancing what audiences want against the financial gains is tricky.

J: So what's the solution?

H: Are you trying to get me into trouble (laughs)? It depends. I mean, you can experiment a bit more with big projects. But for niche ventures, I think it's probably better to lean on the source material and fanbases already there.

J: But do you think there's a general fatigue with certain genres at the moment?

H: Perhaps, but that's why it's all the more important to look at the project as a whole. More often than not, if a project sinks it's on the project, not the audience.

J: Surely events such as the pandemic have had a huge impact though?

H: Yeah, definitely. But I don't think it's that difficult to produce big and/or successful entertainment because if anything, the need has never been stronger. It may just require studios to slow down a bit and think harder about each stage of development.

J: Do you feel more at peace with your career these days?

H: I would say so. I mean it's not an industry you ever feel secure in because that's not really the nature of it. But I still feel the same rush and excitement. I think there's a tendency to forget that actors act for the same reason people enjoy consuming our work. We like to escape and have fun as well.

J: What has it taught you about yourself?

H: Well for one it's bettered my patience (laughs). There's also nothing like acting to improve your physique (laughs).

J: Do you still feel the same pressures to look and perform a certain way?

H: I mean to an extent it's just the expectation and I completely respect that - if you're spending millions bringing, say, Superman to life, whoever plays him must at the very least, look like him.

J: And what are your thoughts now that that franchise will be moving ahead without you?

H: Well, for one, I'm not as devastated as everyone seems to think (laughs). I had a blast making those films and I was looking forward to expanding on what was created but the workouts were something else. As were the press tours (laugh).

J: Would you say that's one of the biggest drawbacks now for actors?

H: I suppose. I mean who honestly wants to be hooked up to a lie detector and asked leading questions (laughs)? I find it a bit unfair at times. I'm not suggesting for one minute that actors aren't immensely lucky or privileged. Of course, what we do is comparatively easy. But the amount of exposure will always be a double-edged sword, no question.

J: You've said in the past you're not a huge fan of social media, do you think it's essential to what you do?

H: Perhaps not essential but it's undeniably very useful. And I have no issue in sharing parts of my life with those who find it interesting. But I also don’t see the harm in a bit of mystery, there's no need to upload and share absolutely everything.

J: More male stars are speaking up about the double standards in how they're treated by fans and the wider public. Are those sentiments you share?

H: Yes and no. I mean most of the time it's harmless and of course very flattering, but I think it's always best to put others at ease rather than risk making them uncomfortable. Of course, everyone has different ideas on how to do that (laughs) but as the old saying goes, do unto others…

J: I imagine it's different when that attention is also directed at those closest to you?

H: Oh absolutely. My friends and family didn't sign up for that but luckily they're good-natured about it.

J: It seems the lines are becoming more and more blurred though…

H: Yeah, and that's a shame. But it's also why you need to be prudent about how much of it you elicit and engage in.

J: But do you take issue with the amount of gossip? I imagine it's hard knowing it's out there when there's not much you can do about it.

H: I try and look for the silver linings, I mean if people are that invested it means you at least have some relevance still. Besides, I have a very happy, successful life outside of what I do and that makes all the difference.

J: I am curious to know how you've managed to make that work…

H: Well I don't want to give the impression that it's easy because it's not. Spending so much time away from the people you love is easily the worst thing about this job and it's something I'm always trying to improve.

J: You're also approaching 40, has that caused you to stop and take stock?

H: Thanks for the reminder (laughs). Nah I'm in a good place about it actually. Well, for now… (laughs).

J: Are there any roles, in particular, you still wish to play?

H: Not really. I think most people see me as an action star and I'm happy to remain so. It seems to be what I excel at though I've also enjoyed branching out into more comedic roles. More of those would be nice.

J: So you've no burning desires for the future? What about regrets?

H: I wouldn't say that (laughs). There's some stuff I've yet to get around to, as for regrets I've very few.

J: Such as?

H: Well, some of the films I've made for starters (laughs). Although that's not really fair as there's always something to take away from those experiences.

J: What about personally?

H: Um (pauses), nothing springs to mind. I wish I'd met my better half a lot sooner. But we've been together for over seven years so I can't complain.

J: If I remember rightly you'd just started seeing each other the last time we spoke.

H: That's right! God, where's the time gone?

J: How were the lockdowns for you both?

H: You know, as scary and traumatic as that time was, I can honestly say it reaffirmed to me that I'd made the right choices.

J: Did she feel similarly?

H: Perhaps not at first (laughs).

J: You certainly seem to share the same sense of humour. You know she introduced herself as the maid?

H: (Looks around) I hope you didn't fall for it… (laughs). And she's far more warped, trust me. She's just better at hiding it (laughs).

J: Care to give some examples?

H: Oh God, where do I start (laughs)? To be honest I'm not sure I can without making her look completely mad… though that wouldn't be an unfair assessment (laughs) (slight pause). She's a nightmare to text. Her idea of messaging me usually involves repeating a word until I manage to guess what on earth she's on about (laughs). I was in London a few days back and I messaged her asking how her morning had gone and she just kept responding with the word 'log' (laughs). So there I was, in a meeting with my business manager, trying to figure out at the back of my mind what she meant. Did she want to log a complaint (laughs)? Was I supposed to bring home a chocolate log? Did we need more firewood (laughs)? Turns out she'd just tripped over one while walking the dogs. See? Mad (grins).

J: My wife's like that but with GIFs.

H: Yeah, I get those less often but to maximum effect (laughs). Like I remember when I was getting fitted for the suits I wore in The Man from Uncle. I sent her a picture of my favourite and she immediately winged back a gif of Sterling Archer (from FX's 2009 animated sitcom Archer) (laughs).

J: Is she indifferent to what you do?

H: It's not that she's indifferent, she's just not taken in by it and thank God because it helps keep me sane.

J: So she likes to keep you on your toes?

H: Oh yeah, our life's never dull (laugh). The last time I was away filming, I'd stupidly warned her beforehand not to go anywhere near this rare Warhammer figurine that a friend sent me. So cue the photos of it in the dust container of the Dyson, at the edge of Kal's food bowl as his face was in it… she even sent me one of it in the washing machine just as it was filling up with water. That one warranted a phone call (laughs).

J: Oh dear. Did it survive?

H: Annoyingly it was absolutely fine… she's done worse (laughs).

J: Such as?

H: Er, well there was the time I was in New Zealand shooting the helicopter sequence for Mission Impossible: Fallout. I've talked about it before so I'm not going to rehash it but the conditions were extreme so everyone was pretty miserable. What made it worse was that a few weeks before, she'd broken her hand - the story of how she did that is actually funnier than the one I'm about to tell—

J: What happened?

H: … No, I can't say. She'd kill me (laughs). Anyway, being halfway across the world I couldn't get back to her and was in a bit of a state about it. So to cheer me up, one afternoon she sends me a video of her at the physio's office and in it (laughs)… she's wearing one of those old-fashioned prosthetic split hooks (laughs). What's amazing is how she somehow managed to rope the physio in, like as soon as he comes into the room she puts her phone down so as not to film him (laughs).

J: Where on earth did she get a split hook?

H: I know right? She told me Etsy but God knows… apparently the physio provided the arm it was attached to (laughs). So there I was, suspended above the Southern Alps, laughing the hardest I've ever laughed in my life.

J: Did you show it to Tom Cruise?

H: Oh yeah.

J: And what did he say?

H: She's a keeper (laughs). I'd play it for you but it got deleted when I changed phones a little while back.

J: Well, that's disappointing. What happened to the hook?

H: When I finally came home we had some champagne to celebrate and when I went to the drawer, I found she'd chucked it in there with the bottle openers (laughs).

J: Are there any more stories you can share?

H: Yeah, but I think I've said enough (laughs).

J: What makes the two of you such a good match do you think?

H: She's got a long fuse which certainly helps (laughs). We were just meant for each other (shrugs).

J: Did it feel that way quite early on? I know it did with my wife.

H: Oh yeah, almost instantly. When you know, you know.

A week after we meet I receive a gift at the office - a box of homemade cookies (which are heavenly) and a beautiful baby blanket. Accompanied is a note which first apologises for the gift's tardiness 'Henry ate the first batch,' thanks me for a good interview and then encourages some skepticism of the tales told as 'they're only mostly true.' Either way, I concede that he is indeed a lucky man.

Enola Holmes 2 is on Netflix.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

[ingravinoveritas]

Is it sad that I immediately thought of AL when I saw this? I don’t know if it’s the fact that the 3rd year of my husband’s passing is quickly approaching, or what, but it infuriates me how AL treats Michael.

Hi there! Still playing catch up on Asks here, but first my most heartfelt condolences on the loss of your husband. To lose someone you love dearly must be incredibly painful, and especially near to the date of their passing. I'm so sorry.

As for your question, it's both sad and not sad at all that you thought of AL, because I actually had someone send me this exact cartoon just days before I got your Ask, also in reference to her. So you are definitely not the only one who had that thought, it seems.

I'm grouping your Ask along with the one from @phantomstars24 because today we got another new post from AL on Instagram that merited discussion. Probably everyone has seen it by now, but for those who haven't, the post contains a cute picture of Michael with a puppy:

But when we look at AL's caption on the post, that is where things take somewhat of a turn:

The caption seems to be referencing what is in the pictures she posted, but one word in particular stands out: "Trolls." In the pictures, we see deer, the girls, other family members, puppies. But if you Google pictures of "Scandinavian trolls," this is what they traditionally look like:

So if we consider those images and then think of AL's pictures, the only thing in them that seems to fit this description is Michael, which would mean she is calling him a troll. It's actually not surprising or out of character for her, as it does fit with her long-running pattern of making snarky/mean comments about Michael's looks.

What makes this all even stranger is that Michael went on a tweeting spree on the 8th and 9th (answering a lot of GO-related questions in particular):

And then AL posted an Insta story of him throwing an airplane with the caption of "Family holiday is going well," followed by this reply from her to a fan who shared the video on Twitter (to whom Michael had also replied during his Twitter spree):

To recap: Michael was on a family holiday in Sweden last weekend and spent most of it scrolling on Twitter, for which AL passive-aggressively called him out (suggesting that he was happier/paying far more attention to Twitter than to her), and now she posts the pics from the trip and calls him a troll.

I mean...you can spin things a lot of ways, but this doesn't come across too well from any direction, especially given how she made sure that she looks good in the picture of her (and because I don't think there is any flattering or complimentary way to call someone a "troll," as it's meant to describe something as ugly, unattractive, etc.). However if there is some other meaning or if I'm just reading too much into this, I welcome folks to comment on here with their thoughts, because I'd love to hear other perspectives.

It's ironic, too, that she used the caption "Family holiday is going well" when so much else seems to indicate otherwise. Thinking about Michael in that puppy picture among the other pics in that post, you can see how he just doesn't quite "fit." Not just because he looks different from everyone else (recalling AL's pointed mention of "curly blondes"), but because there is a community there that he is not part of, and for someone like Michael, for whom community is such an important thing, him being a stranger among these folks makes him stand out even more, and for all the wrong reasons.

So yes, I would agree with your assertion @lepqueen of that cartoon being reminiscent of Anna, and I share your sentiment in disliking the way she treats Michael. I just keep thinking of how different the reaction would be if Michael had a history of commenting on her appearance, or if he called her a troll. The uproar would be staggering, I imagine, yet somehow no one blinks an eye when it's her doing it to him. Things that really do make you wonder...

[radfemfox5]

LOL that guy you were arguing with a few days ago changed his entire blog. i think you radicalized him LMFAOOO

here's him still malding about your argument: https://www.tumblr.com/mommabearlaciii/732929534465359873

It's been 3 days, honey. Why are you acting like a martyr? Please move on. Get a job. Or a hobby.

This is doubly hilarious to me because he warns others not to waste their time speaking to radfems while wasting multiple days seething about our conversation, to the point that he changed his whole blog...

Guess I have to address this in its entirety since he won't shut the fuck up about it. Buckle up, gyns.

For some added context as to why I immediately assumed this was a troll when I saw his post, this is what his blog looked like:

Jeez, I thought, what a terrible troll. It was so on the nose as to be comical. I soon realized that he was anything but a troll.

I was incredibly tame in my response to his insanely misogynistic post, to the point where I chided myself afterwards for not going harder on him.

In retrospect, being "civil" with him was the best way to go, as my reblog is simple, concise and clear: woman = female. That's literally it.

In spite of how simple my comment was, he still went on an unhinged rant mere minutes after I pressed reblog. It's honestly not worth reading, but for the sake of transparency I'll include screenshots.

Honestly, I was shocked to see how quickly he typed this whole thing out. Rage must increase your typing speed.

It's pretty funny to me that someone whose blog name used to be "adult human female" got so incredibly mad at me for stating that women are female. Shouldn't you agree with me, if you think trans women are female? Hm.

Following this, I wasn't planning on interacting with him again. I left a one word reply and thought that would be it. He kept replying with questions, which devolved into an extremely long exchange in the replies that had some interesting moments. Like him elaborating on why he believes trans women become female, which boils down to "amalgamation of female-approximate traits = female."

Source for his claim that sex is a bimodal distribution between two poles? No clue.

Basically this:

The graph he provided in lieu of a source:

I'm confused about this graph for multiple reasons, namely, the fact that it conflates sex and gender. Mostly, I'm confused about the extremities. Are the people on the far left of the graph "ultra female", and people on the far right "ultra male"? It's complete nonsense, not to mention that he doesn't provide a link to the source this graph is from, it's a commentated screenshot of a tweet with the graph.

Looking into it, the graph comes from a blog post by a transgender real estate agent. I would not consider this a reliable or credible source whatsoever, especially when the post goes on to say this:

You heard it here first, folks, having a small penis means you're less male, and a larger clitoris means you're less female. That makes total sense. I was half expecting them to include this image:

Back to the post: I attempted to explain to him that being in the female range of a specific trait doesn't mean you're female, without much success.

Speaking with him felt like trying to capture a feral cat. It was like I kept having to appease him with treats to keep him from hissing and scampering off. I've never had this feeling when speaking to any other trans person on this webbed site, they usually either block me immediately or have a conversation and then block me when they realize I actually have valid arguments to make. It was definitely a new experience for me. I have screenshots if anyone cares enough to see the full thing.

He did end up realizing I wasn't as complacent as he thought, and blocked me after leaving another beautiful essay in my DMs. The post that pushed him over the edge? The one where I made fun of the breastfeeding fetishist nominal.naomi. Why? Because I implied that males are ugly slobs that can't take pictures. Lol.

It's funny that this interaction seemingly got him to reconsider his time on Tumblr, to the point that he did a complete 180.

You know what, I'll take it. Some of his posts unintentionally call for gender abolition and acknowledge gendered labour inequalities. Sure, he reinforces gendered stereotypes while doing so, but at least he's saying something.

If I can get a misogynistic lesbian fetishist to change his entire blog to regurgitate basic feminist talking points and think he's owning Le TERFs... That's probably the funniest thing to happen to me here.

To be clear, that doesn't make him any less violent towards women he disagrees with.

To conclude: This entire exchange has made me realize that I don't have that many serious posts on this blog compared to my previous blogs. I'll start working on some more serious posts. If you gyns have any suggestions for subjects I could discuss in more of a serious or analytical tone, feel free to shoot me an ask or a DM.

[lgbtlunaverse]

POV switches in chapter 108

This is generally me trying to figure out which parts of the novel are from wei wuxian's limited perspective and which ones are omniscient, as they switch pretty frequently and without warning. And also specifcally because @darkfalcon-z asked in a reply to a post I made earlier today!

Obvious disclaimer that this meta looks pretty closely into specific wording, and that my source remains a translation. I haven't read the original text and so can't attest to my accuracy there.

So MDZS gets real messy with its narration. It obviously starts in omniscient with celebrating Wei Wuxian's death, but spends a lot of its time in limited, most exemplary shown by the enduring obliviousness wei wuxians has towards lan wangji's feelings never being explicitly undercut by the narration.

The novel... does NOT telepgraph when it switches povs. Moreover, wei wuxian does sometimes make confident statement about how other characters feel. Prime example being him talking about how jiang cheng would react to finding out about his core

This being, notably... NOT what Jiang Cheng's actual reaction is when he does find out. That's because wwx is working with incomplete information here, he didn't know Jiang Cheng was willing to lose his core for him to begin with.

Also, he afformentioned obliviousness to Lan Wangji leading to him, multiple times, attributing the wrong motivations to lan wangji's actions.

The novel doesn't outright say "wei wuxian assumed/ thought that jiang cheng would react like that" in the screenshot above, but it DOES clearly show, by leading with him thinking about why he thought he coudn't tell jiang cheng about the golden core transfer, that we're in his head at the moment. And so the following statements are also his thoughts, not omniscient narrations. The difference is very subtle. But it's there

So we're in chapter 108. right before Lan Xichen stabs Jin Guangyao, an we're clearly in omniscient.

Lan Xichen's feelings are stated plainly and there's not very much focus on Wei wuxian at all. It switches over briefly to him and lwj checking up on Wen Ning but his feelings are not overriding everything else.

Then the stab happens

We're still in omniscient here. "Lan xichen felt his heart go cold" a detail Wei Wuxian couldn't know, stated plainly as a matter of fact.

However.

I think this part

Is where we retreat from omniscient back into wei wuxian's pov. We're not told anything about either of these character's inner worlds, but do get some extra litte commentary that jgy was so slow that even Jin Ling could catch him with his eyes closed! That's not something either Lan Xichen or jgy would be thinking of right now. It is, however, a comment Wei Wuxian's inner monologue might think to make.

In the context of my earlier post, which this was inspired by. It also makes some assumptions. Namely, that Xichen is just going after jgy to catch him. It doesn't explicitly say so, because we're not in omniscient anymore but it's clear Wei Wuxian thinks so as he'll feel the need to warn him in a few seconds. This is interesting, as it directly contradicts a popular fan interpretation of this scene, that's become explicitly canonized in multipe adaptations, which is that Lan Xichen is intentionally going along with and is willing to die with him. I'm not saying this theory is correct based on its popularity alone, obviously. I was actually surprised to find out it was so vague when I read the novel considering its popularity!

By the next chapter we'll be unambiguously back into wei uxian's head, and after "Lan Xichen could no longer persuade himself to silence him again" which is in the paragraph before the one in the image above, we are no longer told any other character's feelings or inner thoughts except for Wei Wuxian's. Specifically, this:

So this describes wei wuxian realizing a "something" what something? well, this something.

Again, the difference is subtle. The statement of "He was fighting with his last breath to lead Lan Xichen towards Nie Mingjue, so they could die together!" might seem like another one of those "other charcters' feelings" statements. But we're not IN Jin Guangyao's head right now. This is describing actions, not thoughts. He's not trying to get away (a visible action wwx would be privy to) which must be because...see statement above.

And all of this is framed under the banner of Wei Wuxian saying he realized something, and that being that Jin Guangyao isn't trying to get away and Lan Xichen needs to get away from him because... see statement above. This line basically starts as a repitition of what Wei Wuxian said, repeating his assumption, and then clarifying what Wei Wuxian DOES think is happening. The whole paragraph between is just buildup for the payoff of what that "something" of the realization is. MXTX could have writtern "wei wuxian, however, realized something. Jin Guangyao wasn't trying to get away! Instead he was trying to lead Lan Xichen towards Nie Mingjue so they could die together" and them describe the scenario, it'd be functionally the same in the manner of what information was conveyed, but the little gap in setup and payoff increases suspense and makes the reveal more engaging. It's a good little writing trick!

That wording above does make it way more obvious that that statement? Is one of wei wuxian's. That's what HE thinks.

In the line where jgy pushes lan xichen away, we're still not privy to their feelings or thoughts at all.

But we do get this curious litle "yet,"

That means this is a subversion, something that goes against what was previously established. Namely, that jin guangyao would want lan xichen to get caught by nie mingjue. The actual reality of the situaton conrasts hat we were told earlier. it's a surprise. to who? Well, to all the other characters watching this go down. wwx among them. We get other little commentaries, like how the sight of jgy being choked by nmj is frightening, placing us even further away from his inner world and into the shoes of someone watching him in the temple.

The style being used here is similar to the one in the next chapter, when nie huasang's plan is unveiled. First you get bit of dialogue with clear implications from Wei Wuxian, and then we go into wei wxuxian's head. In a few lines it's explicitly established that he's questioning things, and we are following his line of thought. And then a whle account of nie huasang's plan is given. With no further affirmation that we're still in wei wuxian's head. That's based on context clues given prior. Is this recount of the plan correct? Most likely, yeah! But we're never expicitly told. We are still in wei wuxian's head.

This bit on Jin Guangyao is similar. From the removal of stating other character's feelings (a possible exception might be the statement that "Nie Mingjue is not afraid of spiritual weapons" but that is something observable to wwx who's been seeing nmj not give a shit for a good few minutes now. We get nothing he's not privy to) and a clear indication that we're inside his head now. What we get next is his reocunt of the events, and they're fairly factul as he simply tells us what he sees, but when he gets into the reasons for why things ar ehappening? Well, if we wanted to, we could doubt that.

[cosmoseinfeld]

How was the Sunny Dublin show?!!! Do you have any pictures?

How long was the macdennis segment? Was Glenn shaky on the macdennis "love affair" chat (saw a post on twitter) or was he just doing one of his Glenn bits like from the podcast where he acts like he's not into things before he's honest about it? Did they confirm Honey and Vinegar for s16 or were they just teasing the idea of it in future seasons? Were you able to see their expressions from your seat? (Sorry for being cringe and insane in your asks!)

hiii! sorry it took me so long to reply. I was kind of processing those days and also recovering from covid which i brought as a fun souvenir! (nw, it's all good) I can't possibly tell you how long the segment was but it def took up a good chunk of the show! i was sitting too far away to take good pictures or videos (nor did i want to yknow, kind of living in the moment) but i took this pic of the screen which was up for a satisfyingly long time

I honestly think glenn was just doing one of his "bits" because - imo - he's much more on our side when it comes to the meta level of the show just from how he is talking about dennis etc. I still love how bold rob was by just straight up saying macdennis is a love affair to some. at least, glenn then said to rob "love you, baby!" I remember meg saying it's one of her favourite dynamics but we already knew that. Oh, she also said that the impl*cation scene was put up there against her will and i agree. It's not a macdennis moment and I overall hate it (in parts because it is what dudebros cling to so desperately). I am amazed that they somehow managed to avoid talking about Mac and Dennis break up AGAIN by "letting the audience choose" (which is a fabricated thing because a hyped up audience will cheer and holler for anything) but i will say that Suburbs got a REALLY loud cheer. They played the montage from that and ofc the dinner scene with the "newsflash asshole" moment. Oh, we also had to watch glenn's naked ass on screen. Rob talked about shooting that scene and said how hard it was for him to keep up because glenn was bringing his whole talent to it and rob said he wasn't that good of an actor to keep up. glenn said he's sometimes concerned that there is this psychopathic side to him and that he needs to get that checked. They then played Mortgage Crisis but didn't really talk about it. BUT meg suggested that hugh honey & vic vinegar should make a comeback at some point and rob sort of agreed and so did the audience, so who knows! The segment ended with them playing the impl*cation scene instead of break up and meg saying mac and dennis keeping each other in check is one of the things she loves about that dynamic and that they follow their own specific set of rules.

Overall, it was a very fun show and I am happy I went. The mood was so great, on stage and in the audience. I couldn't see their expressions from up there but I did see rob pulling down his pants to show us his shamrock tattoo, so there's that image... I loved the video cameos by danny, artemis, the lawyer and even uncle jack. Glenn got drunk on stage to the point that rob felt the need to intervene when he got too annoying lmao. Glenn said rob gave him a shot of "tequila" backstage and it might have been the bit that tipped him over - he then got corrected because it was whisky of course (maybe he had flashbacks to the christmas special). They played family fight but it was sooo messy omg... never give buzzers to drunk man-children. Everybody celebrated kaitlin of course and it was... a special experience to hear her and glenn sing the tiny boy song live. Charlie sang a bunch of sunny songs. The one that got me most was "I like life at paddy's pub" of course, especially because the whole audience was singing along. They also had an inflatable tube guy on stage before the show started which I thought was hilarious and weirdly relaxing to watch... Oh, yes before the show started, they had a sunny playlist going on with all the classics like "the boys are back in town" and the ghostbusters song etc. During the intermission, they showed gag reels on screen. Hm what else... Not to burst the bubble, but they also talked about how they couldn't film s15 in Ireland because of covid restrictions, so the on locations shootings took place in california - movie magic! If I remember anything else that's of significance, I'll post a follow-up. I really hope they'll come back to europe soon because i'll def go again. It was so nice to meet other sunny fans IRL and hang out and have a good time together :) i am always amazed how a shared love for a show can bring people together... it's so wholesome. (and you could also sense their love for the show and each other and I think it's great for them to finally get such a direct feedback from the fans)

[barbiewritesstuff]

Fantasies : Part 3

-- Part 3 is here (finally!!) Thank you to @lgg5989 for proof reading, you're the best bestie 💜💜

(Picture has nothing to do with the fic, he's so done and I love him)

Tw. NSFW, p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc

Previous part

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 @feedthemadness-sweetie @ravensmadreads @whywhathowseriously

--

He thinks about what you sound like for the next week and a half, not really sure what to do with himself. His thoughts are going haywire, not giving him a minute of respite, constantly presenting images of you fingering yourself in a shower stall, or rubbing your clit, or even getting off on the jet of water alone. He’s started making mistakes, Warlock’s even asked if he was okay. And worst of all, he ran out of lube three days ago. He feels a little shameful that half a bottle took so little time to disappear, but the shame lies more in the fact that even porn can’t seem to do it anymore. 

Only you. 

Fantasies of him pressing himself deep inside of you, til you’re so full it almost feels overwhelming, and then fucking you til you drench his cock and milk him til he has no cum left to give you are the only thing that even get him off now that he knows you want it too. 

But as much as he wants it, Beau’s not stupid. He knows, rationally, that he can never act on his urges -- needs. His needs to feel you, taste you, see you -- despite what his post-orgasm brain told him in the showers. He just wasn’t thinking clearly. There’s rules against fraternisation and as an Admiral, whatever goes for the lower rank navy personnel goes triple for him. If he acted on his needs, and someone saw, or something happened, it would ruin his career. It would ruin your career. 

And despite how much he wants this, he just can’t risk ruining this for you.

So when he sees you in the carrier’s gym room in booty shorts and a sports bra, alarm bells are ringing in his head and he tries so hard to remember how bad this could get. 

“Everything alright Lieutenant?” he asks and the alarm bells ring louder, telling him to stop right now and turn around. Telling him that sex isn’t worth losing a thirty year career over, or destroying a budding one. 

“All good,” you smile, stepping away from the punching bag you were destroying not a minute earlier. It still sways slightly in the air, less to do with the fact that the open seas are turbulent tonight and more to do with your assault. 

Your cheeks are flushed and it looks ever so flattering on you, Beau thinks, taking in your form. Your legs are slender, graceful and long. Your torso, usually hidden underneath a beige navy uniform is now on display for him and Beau has to stop himself from staring at the dark line between your full breasts in order to avoid growing hard. 

“I usually spar with Lieutenant Trace, but she couldn’t make it,” you say, “So I have to make do with the bag,” you over explain. It’s not an invitation to anything but his groin takes it as one and speaks without asking his brain for permission.

“I could always replace Lieutenant Trace.  I may be older, but I’m sure I can make up for your youth in years of experience,” he replies, fairly certain he’s not talking about sparring when his mouth forms the second sentence.

You seem surprised for a second, and then your face breaks out in a large smile that makes hs stomach flip, “You’re on,” you say and Cyclone is vaguely aware of familiarity with which you address him and he might have said something, if only to keep up the appearance he didn’t want to rail you into next week, but you turn around and bend down to pick up your towel and your phone and the words get lost in his throat as he stares.

You move towards the mat at the other end of the room. It’s an assortment of thin multicolour mattresses, fitted into each other like puzzle pieces, placed there more to keep health and safety off their backs than to actually prevent any injuries. Beau drops his stuff off next to yours and follows you to the middle. You stand a few feet apart and in a show of both sportsmanship and self control -- because he wants nothing more than to pull you close and kiss you -- he shakes your hand. 

Beau’s impressed, the second he says ‘go’ you jump into action and he really has to fight you off, ducking left and right to avoid swings and kicks, his training kicks in eventually though and soon he has the upper hand. You fight fair for ten more minutes, but he sees you getting frustrated, not thinking you would cheat -- and technically it isn’t cheating -- he bumps his foot against your leg and you yelp. You make such a pitiful sound that he stops short, too focussed on seeing if you’re hurt to see your leg swing behind his and wipe him to the floor. 

You move up to him and in a move practised by years of sparring with Lieutenant Trace, you swing one leg over his hip and grab his hand, pinning them above his head. And then, as your brain gets overridden by the months of wet dreams and masturbation sessions, you involuntarily roll your hips against him. You let out a moan as Cyclone groans before both of you freeze, realising what has just happened.

“I’m so sorry, Admiral, I didn’t -- I don’t know what h--”

"Again," he orders his voice immediately dropping two octaves. The alarm bells in his head have stopped ringing now, it's too late. He was toeing a line and with one accidental movement, you have caused him to sprint across it.

You look at him for a moment and Beau's afraid you might not do it, that you're stronger than him and can resist the urge but after a moment, so gently he might have thought it was a dream, you roll your hips again. And then again. And again. And again. Your pupils dilate more with every movement and Beau is overtaken by the sudden urge to kiss you.he sits up, knocking you to the floor and he doesn't waste any time in moving up to you to crash your mouths together.

His lips dance against yours until neither of you can breathe and when you come up for air, the passion of the moment doesn't have the time to dissipate before you take each other's clothes off. Or rip, in Beau's case. He takes one good look at your attire and decides it needs to go, now. Grabbing your sports bra with both hands, he pulls and rips it in half. 

For a second, when the arousal induced brain fog has lifted, he feels bad. That is, until he takes in your dilated pupils, hard nipples and the way you just let out a soft little 'oh' and he realises that you liked it. Taking it as a silent invitation to do it all again, he rips your booty shorts off, accidentally snapping your underwear in two at the same moment.

Spurred on by his surprising display of strength, you waste no time pushing off his shirt, and pushing off his gym shorts.

Beau looks down at you, naked in front of him. You look perfect, his dreams and fantasy did not do you justice and the way you're staring at his dick like you're not sure it's going to fit is something he didn't think he'd ever get to see, and now he does, he never wants to not see it again. 

With one strong hand, he pushes you back on the mat. He grazes your skin with his fingertips, looking at how your eyes flutter shut and you lose yourself in his touch, however little and fleeting it is. Eventually he reaches your core. His thumb grazes over your clit and your back arcs off of the ground like you've been struck by lightning.

"Been thinking of this for so long," you admit, embarrassed at how your body reacted, but he doesn't mind. He wants more, in fact. His thumb leaves your clit as his index finger roams down to your aching core, you're dripping. Your slick juices coat your folds, making it glisten under the fluorescent lights.

Beau groans before sinking his finger into you until it reaches the knuckle. Before you can stop yourself, you release a pornographic moan and your hand comes to cover your mouth a second too late.

Beau smiles, "So wet for me," he groans, "Been wanting me to fuck you for so long?"

"Yes," you say breathlessly, rocking your hips up to meet his fingers half way when he fucks them into you.

"Think you can take me?" He asks, removing his fingers from you before wrapping them around his cock and jerking it a few times, smearing your wetness over his tip with a finger.

He lines himself up with your entrance,"Finally mine" he says, breathless, slipping his length in your soaked pussy

"Yours, yours, yours, yours," you chant, unable to think about anything other than the way he's stretching you, tearing you apart. He doesn't leave you any time to adjust to his size and you're grateful for it. You've been so desperate for him for months now, unable to cum to anything but the thought of him. If he'd taken the time to let you adjust, you think you might have just cried.

"Mine," he growls as his lips attack your jawline, nipping, kissing and licking his way down your neck to your collarbone.

"Mine," he says again, sinking his teeth in the soft flesh he finds there, and sucking an angry hickey. He raises his head and admires his work with a smirk, before lowering it back down and soothing it with a few licks of his tongue.

His hand moves to your breasts. Beau takes your nipple in between his thumb and index finger and rolls it gently, making you mewl in response. 

"Please," you beg, your voice needy and high pitched, "Faster."

"Is that what you want?"

You nod

"Sometimes it's not about what you want, Angel. It's about what you need," he says lowering himself down so his chest is flush against yours. He's trapped you in and the idea that you're entirely at his mercy makes you both wild. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, "And you need to be patient."

Beau pulls out and you whine, sounding deliciously bratty. It sends a shiver up his spine and lights his brain on fire. When he lines up with your entrance again, his legs shake with the effort it takes for him to gently glide in instead of slamming into you like he desperately wants to. 

He manages it though and even gives you a few lazy thrusts to satiate you a little. Soon you’re mewling under him, desperate for something more. You try to lift your hips to meet him halfway, and he stops. 

“Please,” you beg, letting out a frustrated sob.

Beau furrows his brow, “You want more, little brat? You want to come on my cock?” he asks and you nod furiously

“Please, please, please,” you say, “Please, Admiral.”

“Okay. Do it yourself,” he says, pulling out again and laying down on his back on the mat. In an instant, you’re straddling him again, immediately sinking down on his length. Even though he’s felt you before, it knocks the breath out of him. 

You look so beautiful riding him. Your perky, round breasts are bouncing up and down as you lift yourself up and fall back down, your soaking core swallowing him whole. Your face contorts and he can feel you tighten around him. He’s so close behind but he holds it in just a moment longer. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, your eyes shut tight and your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. You’re pussy is gripping him so tightly that keeping his resolve not to cum right then becomes a herculean task, but he hangs on, wanting you to make one last fantasy come true

“I need you to hit me,” he groans as soon as you seem to recover slightly from your high

“What?” you ask, groggily 

“With your hand. Just slap me across the face,” he repeats

You obey, slapping him hard. The sharp sting is followed by intense pleasure and he teeters over the edge. He doesn’t even have time to warn you, or to pull out and ejaculate against something else, and perhaps he doesn’t want to. You whimper as he fills you, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your belly, your oversensitive core feeling every pulse. 

Once he can think again, he flips you underneath him again, wanting nothing more than to lay with his head on your chest. He tries to pull out, barely even thinking of the mess it would make on the mat but you stop him.

“Stay,” you whisper, “Stay.”

“Okay,” he says, all too happy to listen

“Stay,” you whisper again when he accidentally moves, subconsciously trying to lighten the load on his knees, the mat not thick enough to make prolonged kneeling comfortable. 

“Needy,” he chuckles, “I’ll need to pull out eventually,” he says and you pout, sticking your bottom lip out and giving him your best rendition of puppy dog eyes. He chuckles again and drops his head into your knees. After another moment of comfortable silence, he starts lazily thrusting into you. Overly sensitive and very full, you gasp softly.

“Good?” he asks

“So good,” you reply, “you?”

“Very good,” 

“Think you can come again, Angel?”

“Mhm,” you answer, biting your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that threatens to release itself when he hits the spongy bit inside you.

“Been wanting to do this for so long, Angel. Been wanting to bury my cock so deep inside you, fuck you till you come, fuck load after load inside your pretty pussy,”

“Trying to breed me, Admiral?”

“Fuck,” he gasps, “Yes. Yes, I wanna breed you. Make you mine,” he whispers. He suddenly lifts himself up on his forearms, one of his hands coming to rest itself against your throat. Cyclone squeezes gently, enough to stop your breathing but not enough that it hurts.

“Tap my leg if I’m hurting you. Three taps means stop,” he says 

“Mhm” you managed to humm

He picks up the pace, thrusting himself into you, hitting your sensitive spot with every movement. The stifled moans coupled with the sight of you brings about a familiar sensation in his stomach. Even though he came not too long ago, the idea that he’s just fucking his cum into you and is about to empty himself in you again is making him feral. His hand releases your throat and before you can voice your disappointment, Beau grabs your chin. Instinctively, you open your mouth and Beau spits straight into it. He watches you swallow and lick your lips. He lets out a growl, the kind that starts from a rumble deep in his chest. 

Your pussy tightens around his cock and he can tell you’re getting close. Wanting to give you what you so desperately want, he picks up the pace once more, forcefully driving himself into you. Bottoming out and pulling out almost all the way, eliciting pornographic moans until you can’t take it any more and that tight coil inside you snaps. Your eyes roll back into your skull and the beginning of a scream escapes your lips. Quick to act, Cyclone covers your mouth with one of his large hands, and with one last thrust, fills you again. 

After a few moments, he pulls out without too much protest on your side. He gingerly stands up and thanks himself for bringing a bag and a change of clothes. Your sports bra and shorts are ruined with no chance of repair so he hands you one of his shirts with a wink. You pull yourself up on your legs and put it on. Because he's so much taller than you, the shirt falls just above your knee. It smells like him, and you're not sure you'll ever give it back. You'll keep it as a souvenir of the best sex of your life, in case you never get to do it again.

“You should drink something, you’ll feel better,” he says, noting how wobbly your legs seem as he ruffles through his bag and fishes out a water bottle. He twists the cap off and takes a swig, no doubt as a miracle cure for his own unsteady legs.

“I didn’t bring my bottle,” you say

“Well, you could always come to my room… I might have something for you to drink,” Beau says, thinking of the bottle of whiskey he snuck in on boarding day. 

“I’m sure you do, Admiral,” you reply, staring straight at his crotch with hungry eyes, licking your lips. He swallows, all thoughts of the whiskey forgotten as you stand up and pull yourself against him, “Lead the way,” you whisper into his ear, your hot breath fanning across the skin of his neck, making goosebumps appear in its wake.

“Is that an order, Lieutenant?” he asks, half-joking, well aware of what your words are doing to him as a shiver shoots up his spine

“Would you like it to be?” you ask, “Do you like receiving orders, Beau?” you say, your teeth coming to nibble at the shell of his ear. 

“Yes, ma’am,” 

[heavenlycloud]

the veil~ ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

four: you think i’m cute ‧₊˚ ⋅ ༘☆*.ﾟ

warnings: swearing, crying

pairing: huh yunjin x aespa 5th member! fem reader

summary: to be in the same place at the same time looking for the same thing is one hell of a coincidence. you both hope to find one another and the mutual ties of friendship may guide your way. so close to finding one another, just hope you don’t fall short and miss the opportunity.

author notes: its been SO long since my last update because i was traveling, in classes, now working, AND my laptop FUCKING BROKE ON ME???? so i managed to throw this chapter together using my phone and a glitchy ass version of google docs. there’s probably spelling errors i didn’t catch so sorry in advance!

this chapter might seem messy and not cohesive with the way it starts and ends but it’s because this chapter did get extremely long so due to that + mobile only letting me post 10 photos at a time—i have to split the chapter into two which will be posted soon as the next update. tag list is still open for those of you all who want to be added in, just comment or drop an ask in my inbox! lastly, feedback, comments, reblogs, questions, literally anything but hateful speech is welcome and very much appreciated!

̟ ̇ ˖ಎ˚˖࿔ masterlist 𓂅୨⊹ ₊˚๑

you jolted awake when you heard the front door to your dorm slam shut followed by muffled sobs and hurried steps to the bathroom. sleep clouded your thoughts and you tried to figure out what was going on elsewhere in the dorm when you went to move your laptop off your bed. you glanced over and noticed you were alone on the video call, and your match was gone. at first you were disappointed and part of you had clung onto the delusion that she’d stay on the call until you woke up. however, that feeling of disappointment was replaced with full blown panic when you saw your camera was turned on when you were 99.99% sure you’d left it off. the only thing keeping you from completely losing your shit was despite the camera being on, your image was blurred by default of the app settings. but, that in no way guaranteed that your identity remained unknown. the screen blur worked when people were sitting a considerable distance from their camera, not a few inches away like you had when you fell asleep. even after you hung up, you racked your brain trying to think about what you could do until you heard a quiet knock at your door.

aeri slipped into your room with tearstained cheeks and swollen eyes as she stood in front of you like a lost puppy. her entire body trembled and her breathing became erratic while she looked down with unfocused eyes. you asked in a serious tone, “are you hurt?” aeri shook her head and you pulled back your blankets and made room for her beneath the covers. she slipped in beside you and you brushed back a piece of hair that fell into her face. the scent of her coconut-apricot shampoo and herbal body wash watered down the lingering odor of alcohol that clung onto her words. there was a small silence before aeri sniffled, “why do i feel like such shit? i thought i would be over all of this by now but i feel the fucking same.” you frowned and ran a hand over her hair before replying softly, “gigi, it’s only been four weeks. you were with him for two years, it’s gonna take time.” you debated on adding on more, but you knew she’d have to hear the truth eventually, “and i know you don’t want to hear it but….running off to other boys and getting white girl wasted isn’t helping much either you know?” she sighed into your shoulder and admitted, “yeah yeah i know but i don’t know what else to do.” you pulled away and looked aeri in the eyes, “you have all of us here, and you can reach back out to your therapist. remember that you have people around you that are here and want to help you when you need it okay?” she nodded slowly and rested her head back on your shoulder before humming, “i will, i promise this time. but right now, i just wanna sleep okay?” you smiled weakly and pressed a kiss to your member’s head, “of course.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✭・彡♡・✫.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

in the morning you found minjeong sitting alone in the kitchen poking at a bowl of fruit she’d cut up earlier that morning. she looked up and made eye contact with you before looking back down silently. you knew the reason for her being upset so you didn’t bother asking because it’d really only rub salt into the wound. instead, you tried to lighten the mood with another question, “are you excited for the Gucci Cruise Show tonight?” minjeong cracked a smile and responded, “elizabeth olsen is coming and IU sunbaenim! i’m gonna try to get pictures with them if i can.” you gave her a look and she scoffed, “i’m serious this time, i’m not gonna just stare at them from afar. ningning and aeri unnie are rubbing off their extrovert energy on me, i can feel it already.” you shook your head and laughed, “so i’m not going to get a call from you 10 minutes into the after party begging for me to bullshit up an excuse to our manager so you can leave?” minjeong’s face dropped and she glared at you, “shut up.” you threw your head back with laughter and she changed the subject, “how was your date last night? has she talked to you since then?” she saw how you suddenly stiffened at the mention of your match and awaited your reply nervously, “i think she knows who i am.”

aeri walked into the kitchen and sleepily rubbed her eyes, “who knows who you are?” she moved to sit on your lap but shot up when minjeong answered, “her match.” aeri already had her phone out with ningning on FaceTime so you could explain to them both: “i was watching the movies with her last night and it got super late and i guess i dozed off at some point. when i fell asleep my camera was off but when i woke up it was on. the screen blur was on but i was super close to the camera so like i don’t know if she could tell it was me…and i’m starting to think she knows because she hasn’t texted me at all this morning and usually she’s up now.”

ningning tried to offer a consolation, “well your hair isn’t a vibrant color right now and your lights were off so if she saw anything it probably wasn’t much.” aeri chimed in, “yeah and she might have had an early practice this morning and hasn’t had a chance to text you.” minjeong nodded in agreement and told you, “they’re right. it’s probably nothing to worry about.” you sank back into your chair again and picked at your cuticles as you let your mind wander to a world of negative ‘what ifs’. ningning snapped her fingers in front of your face and placed her hand over yours, “hey! stop that. everything is going to be fine so stop letting yourself worry about this girl. instead think about how you might see her tonight at the party.”

minjeong perked up and asked, “what party?” jimin emerged from the hallway while she answered, “it’s choi jisu’s birthday party. every year she has this massive celebration for her birthday.” aeri clapped her hands in excitement and continued, “there’s always a cool theme to go with it. last year it was Starry Night and she hosted it in a literal planetarium! this year’s theme is Masquerade Ball. it’s admission by invitation only and this year we’ve been invited AND management is actually letting us go!” the younger singer furrowed her brows and asked, “for an event so exclusive why is she inviting us when we’ve only met her in passing?” ningning chimed in, “when y/n and i were trainees jisu was also training here with us.” you pointed to her then added, “yeah jisu and i were close back then. it was only a few months because she left SM and we lost touch after that…but like i said we were close.” minjeong stared at you suspiciously and asked, “how close?” aeri snorted and slapped ningning’s arm as the two doubled over laughing. you whined, “not like THAT WINNIE OH MY GOD?!” the latter shrugged and plainly said, “hey i never know…people get around.” her gaze fell to jimin for a millisecond then to the floor as if she never said anything. ningning coughed awkwardly then blurted out, “okay well i uh…i have a thing.” the rest of you all scattered as well to go about your mornings before you had to start getting ready for the big night.

all you wanted to do this morning and afternoon was focus on the upcoming party, but you had to practice. you dragged your feet against the floor of the company building hallways until you reached your destination. music was already playing in the practice room when you opened the door and a blonde woman called out to you, “you’re late.” you turned to check the time on the wall clock just to see it’d been unplugged. instead you made a move to check your phone but the woman swiped it out of your hand before you got the chance to look at it. she playfully mocked the sassy retort you always gave her, “by two minutes.” when you scoffed in feign offense she reminded you, “which still means you’re late. get warmed up, i have to make a few calls.” the older woman walked out of the studio and you did as you were told, starting with some stretches to warm up your muscles.

four hours passed and it was just around lunchtime when you finished the main part of practice. you spun in a circle before falling to the floor in a dramatic dip earning a laugh from your mentor. she stared at you from above and shook her head in amusement before holding her hand out to help you up. when you held out a finger for her to give you a moment, she instead joined you on the floor. your chest slowly stopped heaving but the burning ache in your abdominal muscles remained. you rolled onto your stomach and let your face rest on your forearms with your eyes closed. the older woman patted your behind and praised you warmly, “you did really well today. i can see you’ve been working hard.” for a few moments you both sat in silence as she let you catch your breath before moving to stand up. you followed behind her and hesitated before asking, “wait- hyoyeon unnie….can i ask you something?” your mentor turned around and answered, “what’s wrong, babydoll?” the old nickname she gave you years ago slipped off her lips effortlessly bringing you a sense of security that washed away your nerves.

you tugged at the fabric of your pants and a smile grew on hyoyeon’s face, she loved when you got shy and embarrassed over things because it meant she could tease you about it later. slowly you asked, “can you teach me how to dance? you know how they do in the princess movies? like ballroom dance?” the older woman put her bag back down and clarified, “a waltz?” when you nodded eagerly and excitedly followed her back to the center of the room she laughed. she showed you the moves and explained them simply as you started to get the hang of it within a few short minutes. when she added music to it she started asking more questions, “why do you suddenly need to know this?” you followed her lead and answered as you both moved, “there’s a party tonight and the theme is Masquerade Ball…i just wanna know in case.” hyoyeon could see the way you were trying to hide your smile as you clearly pictured she was someone else. your mentor then prompted, “so it’s not in case you happen to dance with a certain someone?” you shook your head in refusal but she could see right through your lies, yet she didn’t question you. you told her about your outfit for the evening and how your members, minus minjeong, we’re going together as well.

when you both finished dancing to the song, she picked up your phone and handed it back to you. hyoyeon pulled you into a hug, “good work today, babydoll. have fun this evening and take pictures, okay.” you nodded and headed down opposite directions of the hallways as she tacked on, “good luck with your dance, im sure you’ll charm your princess.” you whipped around just to see her smiling at you as she shot a wink over her shoulder. she pointed to her phone then walked around the corner leaving you stunned to a silence. you realized what she meant and checked your lock screen which had numerous notifications that read: Lyra 🪐

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✭・彡♡・✫.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

“god- soobin wait! shit fuck- i can’t breathe take it out! somi save me!” yunjin rasped out as her best friend squeezed the last breath out of her lungs while tying up the back of her gown. he let the ribbons go and threw his hands in the air, “somi you’re up. my hands are cramping from the last four times i did it..” somi huffed, “you’re being dramatic. jen come here.” she walked over to her and took a deep breath before yanking the ribbons to the back of the ball gown and tying it tightly. she patted yunjin on the shoulder, “see not so bad right?” yunjin coughed dramatically and winced, “i think you broke one of my ribs…” somi beamed “then i did it right. come on the car is downstairs.” kazuha, chaeyoung, and chloe were already waiting in another room for the other three and the six made their way down to the garage.

chloe gathered more handfuls of her dress’ lilac tulle topped with lavender and silver flowers as she walked and tried not to stumble over her own feet. she asked while looking around for somi’s car, “somi, remind me again how you expect to fit all of us in your car?” the blonde simply pointed to two black Cadillac Escalade trucks, “i got drivers.” the five friends looked at each other with shared glances before remembering this was their best friend they were talking about. chaeyoung helped kazuha into the truck first, picking up her forest green dress so not to ruin it. chloe followed behind her then chaeyoung filled in last, adjusting her navy blue blazer that was lined with silver hearts around the cuffs and trim. from the front seat, keeho turned around, “we waited down here for like an hour.” the girls rolled their eyes and ignored him, insisting that the music be turned up louder instead. meanwhile, soobin was busy helping somi and yunjin into the truck. yunjin went in first and somi followed in suit. her bubblegum pink gown took up a seat and a half, some of the tulle spilling onto beomhan’s lap when he sat behind her. soobin sat in the passengers seat before letting the driver know that everyone was here and they were ready to go.

“who did you invite tonight?” yunjin asked as she watched cars go by in the other street lanes. somi, who was in charge of jisu’s guest list, replied easily, “everyone in jisu’s address book…more or less.” yunjin asked in a more serious tone, “hold on, you didn’t invite jimin did you?” somi looked confused as she slowly answered, “yeah, why?” everyone in the car collectively started speaking over one another causing somi to raise her voice, “STOP YELLING AT ME AND TELL ME WHATS GOING ON!” beomhan lowered his voice as he told her, “she has a thing with ryujin while ryujin also has a thing with jisu. and before you ask yes jisu also has a thing with yeji. i don’t even know what it is honestly. the whole dynamic is a little weird she said. but apparently yeji and jisu are cool and they have their own little…thing. jisu also has a thing with ryujin too though and yeji knows obviously they like live together. but jisu says that she doesn’t really care who else ryujin wants to be with because they aren’t an exclusive thing, right. but then when someone tries to talk to jisu, ryujin gets all territorial, even when it’s yeji sometimes. she said ryujin will act like she’s only hers and her feelings get all hurt when jisu reminds her that they aren’t really a thing. and then in the same breath ryujin turns around with karina and acts like she didn’t even want jisu to begin with. i dunno it’s all just messy.”

yunjin frowned and asked curiously, “i thought karina had a thing with chaewon?” somi added on with a confused look too, “i thought she was messing around with winter?” beomhan pursed his lips as he explained further, “technically you’re both right. karina just has girls she messes with but nothing exclusive. ever since she and ryujin broke up a few months back she’s just been friends with benefits with a couple different people…including ryujin. i’m pretty sure all of them know they’re not the only ones she’s seeing.” soobin offered from the front seat, “well ryujin won’t be there tonight. she has that Gucci event. so even if karina does show up, ryujin wont be around to entertain her.” yunjin added with a shrug, “neither will chaewon.” the rest of the car ride everyone noticed yunjin in her own little world, completely ignoring when taylor swift came on the shuffle.

somi waved her hand in front of yunjin’s face, “jen? hellooooo???” the american singer then snapped out of her trance, “what? my bad what happened?” soobin pointed to the radio and said, “you didn’t sing to the past three taylor songs. are you okay? what are you thinking about?” she tried to play it off but even with the mask over her face it couldn’t hide the smile that pulled at her lips. beomhan glanced at her phone and noticed her Veil app open then he giggled, “she’s talking to her match.” the rest of her friends cooed and teased her before getting her to admit, “jasmine said she’ll be at the party.” somi gasped then questioned, “do you know what she’s wearing?” yunjin shook her head, “nope. she barely even told me she was coming.” soobin asked just as the car pulled into the lot, “do you know if she’s here yet?” yunjin once again refused, “nope.” all of them adjusted their masks over their eyes and secured the ribbons on the backs of their heads before heading into the building to find the massive ballroom. while the ballroom was on everyone else’s mind, all that was on yunjin’s was finding you.

⚠️‼️extra tweets and messages (important) ‼️⚠️

♡‧₊˚˘͈ᵕ˘͈‎ 彡♡ ༘*.ﾟ .·:¨༺ ʚ♡ɞ༻¨*:·.﹢࿐ ☆

authors notes: since i’m posting on mobile (my laptop is still being repaired) i can’t post all the messages and tweets id usually do for a chapter. that being said i can’t post the FULL chapter until i get my laptop back. HOWEVER i think it’ll be ready for pickup tomorrow. but cuz i’m working and i have a hectic week ahead i don’t wanna deprive you all of what i do have ready. and idk if i’ll be able to post again tomorrow even tho i’ll have my laptop back ☹️ so just know something big is coming and it is ready to be posted, i just need to get back on desktop! thank you all for being so patient and understanding i know i’ve been breaking promises with my updating schedule since may 😭 but thank you for sticking with me!

[the-archangel]

V for Vengeance

This took ages and is very long I'm sorry! Might be better reading it on AO3 :)

“You don’t know what I’m thinking any more Johnny, leave me alone,” spits V as he stalks down the grimy, neon-flooded street with his collar up against the rain.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” the most recently appointed Afterlife merc explains as he rushes after him, “and this is a fucking gonk idea.”

V had been brewing for days, ever since Kerry told him about the time he’d been kidnapped and held to ransom by scavs. Kerry had intended it as an amusing drunken tale, it’d been all over in less than 24 hours and he’d been that high at the time he hadn’t really noticed it happening, but V was not so green when it came to dealing with scavs, he knew what would’ve happened if the record company hadn’t coughed up the eddies and was determined to fill in the details of the hours that they held the Rockerboy, no matter how unsavoury.

“Seriously V, it was twelve years ago, they’re all either dead or they’ve moved on by now.”

Stopping in his tracks, V looks intently at the dark-haired man, “You don’t have to come with me Johnny, I never asked you to.”

“I know,” answers Johnny darkly, “maybe you should’ve. You’ve got no idea what you’re looking for.”

“Neither have you! You were a data stream living in a freezer at the time, how exactly does that make you any more qualified than me to find them?” It’s a fair point, and one that V knows Johnny is not pleased to be reminded of. “Look, if you wanna help fine, just try not to be a pain in the ass.”

“Can’t promise anything,” Johnny mutters turning to follow his friend down the street.

-

Kerry had just done one of the best shows of his life – or so the bassist of his backing band tells him as he gives the Rockerboy a sloppy post-gig blow job, despite the best efforts of the younger musician it’s not a relationship, just a habit that they’ve fallen into.

Later, alone again, Kerry messages his kids telling them about the show and asking about their day. He never gets a reply, but he does it every damn day anyway. Then he calls his new manager to see how the attempt to copyright his image is going, but the fucker doesn’t answer, he never fucking answers, Kerry’s beginning to think he made a mistake hiring him. There’s one more call he thinks about making, but he’s had enough rejection this evening and so puts on a jacket and heads out to the waiting car. He doesn’t make it.

-

“Where’re we going?” Johnny shouts after V’s retreating back.

“Pacifica.” answers the other man.

“Woah, we’re not walking to fucking Pacifica.” states Johnny breathlessly as he catches up.

“Course not, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”

Afterlife is buzzing even at this time of the early afternoon, despite it now being V’s kingdom Johnny’s heart lifts a little at the thought of Rogue maybe being there, her visits are increasingly rare, but it is possible. They make their way over to the bar where V has a quick word with Clair before heading to his usual booth at the back, Johnny makes to follow until he sees who V is meeting, he sits at the bar instead nursing a tequila and glaring over petulantly.

“You’re lucky I was in town,” Panam tells V as he takes a seat opposite her and puts beers on the table between them, “another few hours and I’d have been showing this shithole my dust.”

“I know, thanks for meeting me, and…I’m sorry.”

The woman looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Luckily for you I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Something more than we had might’ve been nice, but as far as flings go, it was one of my favourites.” she says taking a swig of beer and sitting back in her seat, one leg resting on the other and arms spread along the back, “But you’re still part of the clan whatever other shit you’ve pulled, what do you need?”

“Info,” says V leaning forward and looking at her seriously, “about twelve years ago Kerry was taken by some scavs, prolly took him somewhere into the Badlands, wondered if there had been any rumours, if anyone knew anything about what happened?”

“Can’t Kerry tell you anything? Surely he’s not gone senile just yet?” she asks with narrowed eyes and a half-smile.

“Heh, you’re a funny girl, but no. He was pretty out of it and he’s kinda blocked it out.” V winces internally at the lie. “So do you know anything?”

Panam takes another swig from her bottle and ponders the question, “Maybe. I was a teenager at the time, a feisty one too if you can believe it, Saul would sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my behaviour was dangerous, or bad for the clan.” V nods, he’s been at the receiving end of Saul’s lectures and knows what they can be like. “Anyway, this one time he was explaining why taking a bike and riding into the town was a dumb idea, he was even more riled than usual, said if the Raffen could swipe a rock star right from outside a stadium, one little girl on a bike would not be able to stop them taking her. Never connected the dots at the time, but I guess he was talking about Kerry.”

“The Raffen huh? I guessed as much, any idea where they took him?”

“No, they had a few bases at the time, I’ll mark them on a map for you.” she says producing a map and pen from her bag, “Saul was a big fan of Kerry’s, shame they never met.”

V hums in agreement, Saul always turned the radio up when one of Kerry’s songs came on and he’d told Kerry stories about the brusque clan leader many times, they could definitely have been chooms. “Thanks Panam, you’ve been a lot of help.”

Panam looks over his shoulder, “Who’s that guy you came in with? He’s been glaring at me for the whole conversation like I should know who he is.”

V chuckles, he often forgets that even people who met Johnny never actually saw Johnny. Before he can explain, the woman interjects,

“Fuck, that’s Johnny Silverhand. I recognise him from Saul’s album covers. That’s Johnny fucking Silverhand!”

Hearing his name, Johnny smiles warily and raises his glass in Panam’s direction.

“Why didn’t he come over with you?” she asks.

Still smiling, V looks over at the dark-haired merc at the bar and lowers his voice, “He’s kinda scared of you, you were pretty angry about him trying to kill me if you remember, he thinks you might try and break his balls over it or some shit.”

“That’s fair, but if the fucker is going with you, watch your back, he’d choose his ego over his chooms any day I’m guessing.”

Once maybe, but not anymore V thinks, but he just nods and finishes up his beer, “Look after yourself Panam, I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Mhm, don’t be a stranger.” the nomad replies giving him a curt nod and walking out of the booth.

Johnny watches as she leaves the bar, “Don’t say it Johnny.” V warns.

“Say what? That she has a nice ass? I’m only human.”

V groans and grabs his jacket from the bar stool, after a last catch-up with Clair they’re ready to leave.

“Need to get the truck from the garage,” V tells Johnny, “it’s gonna get pretty bumpy out there.”

-

Jogging to keep up with V’s accelerating strides, Johnny is struggling to understand the urgency, unsure as to why they need to head to Pacifica now rather than the morning, it is, after all, 12 years since the attack took place so one more day is unlikely to make much difference. V, on the other hand, can’t get there fast enough, the thoughts of what they might have done to Kerry in that time have been festering in his mind and he couldn’t look the man in the face again if he didn’t do something.

As if he’s read the ex-merc’s mind, the holo rings and Kerry’s tired face fills V’s vision. “Heeey V, missed ya today, what ya been doin’?”

“Just dealing with some business Ker, like I said this morning it might take a couple of days. How’s the song coming along?”

The Rockerboy’s lip curls into a grimace, “Meh, can’t seem to get into the groove, y’know I worry about you when you go out on jobs. Throws me off.”

“I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll call you in the morning, get some sleep babe, be back before you know it.”

“Kay V, love ya.”

“You too ya gonk.” V says softy as the call disconnects and he rubs his temple with his fingertips, it’s been a long day and it’s not over yet, “Johnny, you OK to drive? If I don’t lie down, I’ll fall down.”

“Sure, where we going?”

“The stadium.”

-

Johnny had only been up a few hours having not got home until the early hours. He’d thrown himself into the merc work and mostly enjoyed it, but music was still his passion, so he’d been doing the rounds of the open mike nights – heavily disguised of course – just to keep his hand in. Problem was, compared to his old stuff, what he’s writing now is shit. The tunes are fine but he’s struggling to find the lyrics; before, he channelled his lust, anger and vitriol into the words, now all he feels is apathy most of the time. He hates to admit it but, he needs help, he needs Kerry, and if helping V with his gonk plan gets him back in Kerry’s good books then it’s all going to be worth it.

-

Pulling in at the stadium parking lot, Johnny spends a moment taking in how shitty Pacifica had become over the years. He can still remember when it was the promised land, corpos filling the hotels and beaches, not this gang run nightmare before him. It vaguely occurs to him that it’s at least partly his fault, but such thinking could lead to madness so he tucks the thought away to be chewed over another time.

“V, wake up sleeping beauty, we’re here.”

Groggily, the younger man groans and sits up in his seat, “What time is it?” he asks yawning.

“Just after midnight, not much point looking around in the dark, may as well hang here until the sun comes up in a few hours.”

“No way,” stresses V, already getting out of the truck, “this is the perfect time.”

A perplexed Johnny once more finds himself jogging to catch up to his friend, what is he possibly hoping to find after twelve years in the middle of the night?

The stadium is in darkness, the sputtering street lights only adding to the gloom. V stands, hands on hips surveying the side of the building, scanning the area and sighing. The building hadn’t changed much since it was built sixty years ago, flimsy doors, non-existent security, pretty much what he expected, but what had changed was the area. A stadium built so that high-rolling customers could watch a show or game whilst staying in one of the nearby five-star hotels was now next to a derelict shopping mall in what looked like a war zone. Sure, it could still get the big-name acts, but they would travel in from somewhere more salubrious, maybe a place in the City Centre, whilst the audience would make their weary way back to their homes, never once thinking of staying in Pacifica for the evening, no matter how convenient.

  Although terrible for Pacifica, this is in fact great for V’s purposes, the same bums and low-lives have been hanging around the stadium for years and their information is cheaply bought. The nearest liquor store is not far away, Johnny follows his friend hopefully inside grimacing as he chooses two of the cheapest 6-packs available and then helps him carry the bags back to a wall near the stadium. “Now what?” he asks.

“Now, we wait,” the other man replies, popping the cap off a beer and wrinkling his nose at the first sip. They don’t need to wait long, a dishevelled, grey-haired man comes shambling towards them with a younger, twitchy-faced man at his side.

“Care for some company chooms?” he asks in a surprisingly refined voice.

“Sure thing, wanna drink?” The older man nods emphatically, while the younger sits silently crossed-legged, glaring at Johnny and V between violent tics.

The conversation is moved along from government conspiracies (probable) and the latest sightings of a mothman (unlikely but possible) to the things celebrities will do for attention, V’s attention has been wavering for a while, tiredness having caught up with him, but the mention of his mainline’s name, as well as a sharp dig in the ribs from Johnny, perks him up.

“That there Eurodyne fella, they reckon it was all for publicity, saw it with my own eyes…”

“Wait, what?” asks V suddenly wide awake, “You saw Kerry Eurodyne being kidnapped?”

“If that’s what it was, he walked out with them friendly as anything, got in the car no problem, chatting like they were best chooms.”

V is momentarily stunned into silence, processing what he’s being told, “What…what kinda car was it?”

“Nothin fancy, some sort of Thorton. Remember thinking what an odd shade of blue it was, like the sky at dusk.”

Johnny interjects, “Yeah, poetic as all shit choom, tell us everything.”

-

The concert goers had generally been a happy and generous bunch, the bum and his chooms had made a good few euros and scored a few beers and were sat, nicely mellow, waiting for their second chance as the crowds emerged from the stadium. Before that could happen, a side door swings open and a smiling Kerry strides out to the waiting car flanked by what looks like a couple of suited bodyguards and followed by a red-haired woman with a Valentino’s jacket and a distinctive silver leg. In his youth, the man had been a huge fan of Eurodyne’s, posters all over the walls, shelf full of his records, but he hadn’t been so keen on some of his poppy later stuff, so it’s with detached interest that he watches the Rockerboy be led out to the car and directed into the back seat. He seemed in good spirits, clearly high as a kite and slightly unsteady, but not seeming to be in any discomfort, for which V was grateful.

V and Johnny leave the men with what’s left of the beers and make their way back to their car, V is quiet and pensive which is making Johnny nervous.

“They tricked him,” V concludes, “they knew how confused he got when he’d been partying and they tricked him.”

Johnny tries to hide a smirk, the thought of Kerry being so out of it that he didn’t even know he was being kidnapped not only seemed likely, it was not even the first time it had happened. There was that time out in Miami in the 20’s when a deranged fan took him home and fed him pizza and copious amounts of wine before the rocker was found wandering the streets the next morning in a borrowed tuxedo, but V doesn’t need to hear about that just now.

The description of the red-haired woman is making V’s brain itch, there’s something familiar that he can’t quite put his finger on. Johnny drives them into the Badlands whilst V leaves a message for the Padre and falls into a disturbed slumber.

-

In his dreams, V’s leaning on a bar listening as Kerry tells him about his day at the studio. The Rockerboy is hyped and animated, pacing the room and drinking from a tequila bottle. He comes over placing his hand on the ex-merc’s chest and leaning into a sloppy kiss that ends with a bite on the bottom lip hard enough to raise a gasp.

“Something to remember me by.” Kerry smirks as he pulls away.

“Why, you going somewhere?”

Kerry puts his hand on the door to the exit and turns, smiling sadly. Then he’s just gone, disappeared. V searches the room frantically, calling Kerry’s name and pushing on the door, but no one answers and the door won’t budge, then Johnny’s voice is calling him,

“V, shut your whining. You woke me up from a real nice dream you fucker.”

-

The truck is where Johnny parked it in the early hours, shaded from the mid-morning sun by a boulder which also serves to shield them from the road. V groans and stretches, he’s had the full eight hours for the first time in weeks, but still feels like he’s been kicked in the head, and back, and kidneys. “Where are we?” he asks the grumpy ex-rocker groggily.

“’Bout five miles west of Panam’s first marker on the map.”

Nodding, V gingerly leaves the truck, rubbing life back into his legs he leans against the rock to take a much-needed piss, cursing softly as a call comes midway through. Thinking it best to leave the call on audio only for now he greets the caller as cheerily as he can manage, “Morning Padre, thanks for getting back to me.”

“Always a pleasure to be able to help out a brother in need. What can I do for you?”

“The woman I described; do you have any info on her? She rings a bell with me but I just can’t place why.”

“She is called Selene, she was a friend of your mother’s when you were very small, but she left the fold twenty years or so back, went to live with the Nomads so I heard. If you find her, tell her she is forgiven and will be welcomed back.”

“Selene, of course! Any idea which clan she went with?”

“Nothing for sure, though I think the Raffen would be her style.”

V sighs, it’s what he expected if he’s honest, but he hoped otherwise. “Any ideas where she is now?”

“None. I am expecting another call, but wish you luck in your endeavour.”

Thanking the Padre, V wanders back to the truck checking the map and planning a route for the day, he flops down next to Johnny with his back leaning on the tyre of the truck and takes the cig from the other man’s fingers. “I’m thinking if we work smart, we can cover all three camps before dark, then this time tomorrow we can be heading back.”

Johnny nods, working smart is not something he’s often accused of but he can give it a try.

-

V drives the truck to within a couple of miles of the first possible camp, concealing it as best he can between two ridges and makes his way to higher ground with Johnny following grumbling behind.

“Don’t know why we had to set off so fucking early, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And what’s with all this fucking gear we’re carrying? There’s, like, an arsenal and enough water for a week, I thought we were here for the day not setting up camp.”

V gives a half-smile as he squints at the horizon, Johnny’s whining is actually quite a comfort to him, it means the world is working as it should, “You’d be surprised how much water you get through in the desert Johnny, and we don’t know what we’re up against, better to be over-prepared than under don’t’cha think?”

Johnny grunts non-committally and returns to his binoculars, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Any sign of movement, the camp should be over to the East by those rocks, looks abandoned but we don’t want to go storming in and find a cave full of scavs coming out to meet us.”

 Having established that the camp at least appears to be all quiet, the boys stay low as far as possible and cover the last two miles without incident. The camp has clearly been abandoned for some time; empty crates litter the ground inside the mouth of the cave which was the main living quarters of the camp. Mildewed bunk-beds line the walls, nothing of value has been left behind, no handy clues. Sitting in the mouth of the cave sharing a bottle of water and a cig, V optimizes the route to the next camp whilst Johnny squints critically at a shard he’d found on one of the bunks,

“The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large, huh.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothin, just some chip I found.” explains Johnny tossing it in his backpack to maybe read on the boring ride back later.

-

Their next destination is almost thirty miles to the north mostly over flat ground but the last few miles are a challenge even for the Mackinaw that bounces from dune to dune and jostles its passengers unrelentingly. Johnny clings onto the grab handle biting back his criticisms of V’s driving for fear of being left in the middle of nowhere to find his own way back. It’s a good choice. V had also had enough of the challenging terrain and was in no mood to deal with Johnny’s shit.

“Gonna have to park up for a while, this shitty truck is gonna work my optics loose if we carry on much longer.”

“I think there’s a gas station just up there,” Johnny points hopefully towards a fuzzy, gas-station shaped building on the horizon, “we could aim for that, regroup, grab some food.”

Food sounded good, they hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and the sun is now right overhead, there’s some jerky and trail mix in the truck, but they hadn’t got quite that desperate yet. The building is indeed a gas station, not only that but there is an outdoor seating area where they now are eating reheated burritos and sipping on mercifully chilled water. Johnny squirms uncomfortably in his seat, there are many benefits to having a flat ass, leather trousers hang well, chicks dig it, but long road journeys are just a pain in it.

“So, what’s the next plan of action?” he asks V in between bites of his disappointingly bland lunch.

“The guy in the store said there’s still some Scav action out here from time to time, so we don’t wanna go storming in, just in case. We’re still about four miles out, just over that ridge should be an old farm that they were using as a base.” V tells Johnny indicating a distant sand dune. “We get the truck to this side of the ridge, sneak around and see what we can see.”

Johnny nods, aiming his screwed up empty foil into the trash and smirking as he hears it rattle around the can and hit the bottom.

-

“Shit.” hisses V as he scans the farm buildings from the top of the ridge. There is clearly movement, things being loaded onto trucks. It looks like they might have caught the goons just as they’re moving on, which does not suit their purposes at all.

“Think fast Johnny, what do we do?”

Johnny looks up briefly whilst lighting his cig, the light of the match illuminating the surprised look on his face, since when does V ask his advice about merc work? “We could wait til one of them is separate from the group and bring them over for a little chat?”

“Mhm, there’s a guy over there keeps disappearing off for a smoke, we could follow the ridge around and see where he goes.”

Just as V had said, around five minutes later the man dumps a crate in the van and makes to the back of the substantial barn where the van is parked, the mercs (V is allowing himself the title back, just for a couple of days) follow along and down the ridge until the sharp smell of the man’s sweat and cheap cologne assaults their noses. Luckily for them, he is concerned only with checking his messages and not expecting to be forcibly dragged over the rocky ground with a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

They really should have decided what to ask him before dragging him behind the ridge, after all, he was clearly too young to have any knowledge of the kidnapping, fortunately he helps them out,

“Aw I knew you’d catch up to me sooner or later, I’ll tell you anything and I’ll run to the hills if you let me go, you’ll never hear from me again.”

Johnny and V have no idea who the guy thinks they are, but can’t pass up such an opportunity,

“We’ll think on that,” Johnny tells him, “all depends on how good the info you give us is.”

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” V chips in, “what have you been doing out here these past few, er, weeks?”

As promised, the man spills everything, the camp has been here for several months though he’s only been with them for three weeks, other than a few local raids nothing of any note has happened. They are moving East to an old warehouse that was used in the 60’s as a base, to join with another faction in order to pull off some heist. The whole shebang is being run by a woman with faded red hair who’s name he didn’t catch who was here a couple of days ago but has since returned to the warehouse.

With a pistol-backed warning not to look back, they watch the man sprint into the distance and think about their next move. The warehouse seems to be the last place Panam marked on their map so they don’t need to follow the goons in order to find it, in fact it would be better to get there before them so that there’s less to deal with, but not searching the farmhouse might lead to them missing a vital clue.

“How sneaky are you feeling?” V asks Johnny.

“I can do it if I have to, but I’d rather just shoot them in the head.”

“Maybe when your aim improves, we’ll go with your plan, until then, follow me up to the back window.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but for once thinks better of it and follows V up onto a dumpster, across an awning and in through a handily open window, dropping silently on the other side into what appears to be a command centre of sorts. There are tables and chairs scattered around, empty wrappers and cups, but nothing that presents as a clue.

The next room has been used as sleeping quarters, sheets are strewn around, pillows scattered, and the smell from the unwashed linen and half-eaten food left on all the available surfaces is almost unbearable, Johnny finds it almost overwhelming, he’s still getting used to having his senses back and is having to fight against the urge to pass out from the stench.

The last room on this floor is smaller but had been kept neat. There’s a cot in the corner with the sheets removed and a few bits of sparse, but clean furniture.

“Nothing in here to see,” says V rattling a drawer back into place just as a goon, who’d been hiding behind the door waiting to make his move, hits him clumsily but solidly on the shoulders and flies towards the stairs to make his escape. Johnny takes chase narrowly avoiding a door to the face as the man flees the building, he needs to bring him down before he can alert his chooms and so dives for his legs sending him heavily onto the gravel and drags him, thankfully dazed and quiet, back into the house. Meanwhile, V gingerly opens one eye staring into the painful void before him, his optics soon adjust and the bedroom floor slowly slides into focus.

A dull thud and a muffled groan later, Johnny reappears and offers his hand to help the fixer up, he grudgingly accepts and leans his weight onto the Rockerboy as they make their way gingerly down the stairs and over the battered body of the fallen goon to watch the outside activities through a grimy, cracked window.

“The way I see it,” offers V massaging life back into his left shoulder, “we can either wait here until they leave and check the place out properly, or forget about here and make our way to the warehouse while it’s still light and before it’s full of murderous Scavs.”

It’s a no-brainer, a couple of minutes later they are back in the truck putting together a route away from the roads leading from the farm and sharing a cigarette. The devil in Johnny has a question to ask, “How d’you think Kerry’s gonna feel when he finds out you’ve done all of this without asking him?”

“Well he’ll…” V realises that, in a certain light, his actions could be construed as selfish, controlling even. Although he meant well, he hadn’t really considered Kerry’s feelings in all of this, there might even be a reason he never told the whole story. “I just need to call someone…” he murmurs, leaving the truck and disappearing around the corner.

Some minutes later a red-cheeked ex-merc hops back into the truck and silently starts it up, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Johnny gives it a few minutes but has to ask,

“Kerry is pretty mad OK?”

Johnny nods, he knows how Kerry gets when he feels betrayed, he realises that, to his surprise, he feels bad for his friend.

“He said that I shouldn’t’ve gone without telling him where I was going and that I shouldn’t’ve put myself in danger for him and that we were gonna have to have a talk when I get back.”

“Aw V I’m sorry…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Think he just wants to vent at me. Had to promise to call him every couple of hours and to tell him everything we find out, he really can’t remember what happened and wants to know, even if it’s real bad.”

-

It’s a long and boring journey to their final destination, Johnny has been on a self-improvement kick lately and decides to look at the shard he found earlier. He was expecting a book, but opening the case he realises that The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large is in fact a BD, possibly the dullest one ever but a BD just the same. Rummaging around in the glove compartment he finds a wreath and settles back in his seat ready to expand his mind. Twenty minutes later his mind is definitely blown, though not necessarily improved in any way.

“V, choom, you gotta see this,” he says groggily, clumsily pulling the BD wreath through his tangled hair.

“No thanks, m’driving. Not a good mix dipshit. Besides, sounds super-dull.”

“So pull over, I promise you, you REALLY need to see this.”

-

The scene opens with a stuffy lecturer in an office outlining how far cybernetics have come in the last hundred years, never one for schooling V can feel himself drifting off, but less than three minutes in the scene abruptly switches to a smoke-filled room, possibly a bar, with a dozen or more people sat at makeshift seats and tables. V recognises one, “That’s Selene!” he says out loud to Johnny. A commotion indicates another person entering the room, a slightly dishevelled Kerry comes stumbling in with hair flopping rakishly over one eye and his denim shirt open to expose his recently installed chrome. V adjusts himself in his seat, damn that man is hot.

“…and then later that night, “Kerry was clearly part way through a story when he had left the room, “he came over again. Can you believe it? But this time with a gun and a bag full of drugs. Security fucked him up and threw him out and the drugs made for a preem after-show party!”

The assembled ‘audience’ laugh and clap, an inhaler makes its way around the room as do various bottles, all of which Kerry happily partakes in. The next few minutes are mostly this, blurry partying and a babble of chatter, the room seems to be hanging on every word the Rockerboy says and Kerry is lapping it up. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The recording whips around to focus on the red-haired woman who seems to be receiving a call, biting her bottom lip and nodding slightly as her eyes glow green. The room quietens, even Kerry, though he seems to be in some kind of drug and alcohol induced stupor anyway. The camera follows Selene out of the room into a gravel patch covered with parked cars and overlooked by an old wind turbine,

“Jeez, are you sure?” she asks, “I mean, of course I believe you but he’s a rock star for fucks sake, there must be somebody who’ll pay. What about the ex-wife?” Selene nods again, “What a bitch, I thought they had kids? And they say we’re the bad guys. OK, fine, it’s a shame though, he seems like a nice guy.” Her eyes dull as the call ends, she checks her revolver and strides back into the bar.

A whispered conversation later the filming cuts off as Kerry is being man-handled off the tatty sofa.

-

V removes the wreath and sits stunned in the driver’s seat of his truck not quite sure what to do next, Johnny gently takes it from his hands throwing it onto the rear seats and looks at his friend with concern. “You good?”

“I guess.” V replies thoughtfully, “He can’t know.”

Johnny nods in agreement, “So where next?”

“We carry on,” decides V, “still don’t know what happened next. I mean, they didn’t flatline him, why not? Gonna talk to Selene.”

-

Dusk is approaching when they reach their final destination, as it draws near the familiar outline of the now even more dilapidated wind turbine hovers into view. “This is the place,” Johnny erroneously announces. “We just gonna walk in and start shooting?”

“Jeez Johnny of course not, we want information don’t we, not total carnage?”

Johnny shrugs in a non-committal way.

V had just come off a holo-call with Kerry, he had told him about the bar, about the scavs hanging on his every word and about how hot he looked. He felt bad not telling him the whole truth, but just couldn’t see what good it would do. “You can stay in the truck; I’m going in to talk to them.”

The old Rockerboy was about to argue, the look on V’s face was more than enough to stop him. “Just be careful, I don’t wanna have to explain to Kerry why you’re coming home in the trunk and not the passenger seat.”

Leaving the truck and passing his half-done smoke over to Johnny, V puts his hands deep into his pockets and begins to walk towards the warehouse building, well-aware that there would have been eyes on him from the get go. Johnny has his eyes on a sniper behind an upstairs window, but for now V appears safe from their target practice.

As he nears, V puts his hands in the air and turns around then, a couple of meters from the door he stands and waits.

Up until now, the goons have not shown themselves though it’s obvious they’re around, dozens of vehicles are strewn around the gravel and a deep-thumping beat can be heard coming from inside. A hum indicates the rising of the shutters, rust rains down as they rattle open and a man of indeterminate middle-age dressed in makeshift armour appears.

“Don’t move. Who are you and whaddya want?”

“Name’s V,“ he yells across the distance cocking his head to one side, “your goons can stand down. Just want to talk to Selene.”

The name obviously means something to the other man, he raises an eyebrow and comes a little closer to the ex-merc. “And what’s your biz with Selene?” he hisses.

“No biz, she was a friend of my mom, just wanna talk to her.”

“Vincent?”

The deep, southern tones of the woman he knew in his youth are unmistakable,

“Selene, yeah, erm, hi.”

The chrome is covered in a dark blue boiler-suit and her always striking green eyes are hidden behind shades, but the red hair, less vibrant but still luxurious would have given her away anyway.

“Vincent honey, it’s been twenty years. Why you out here looking for me in the ass-end of nowhere?”

“Twenty-two, just wanted your help with something.” V says cautiously lowering his arms.

“Course sugar, come inside. How’s Martha?” The woman asks, wrapping her arm around V’s waist in a way that seems oddly familiar and leads him inside.

Small-talk exhausted, V is led down a narrow, graffitied corridor and into what seems to be a common-room of sorts. Selene clearly has some power, the assembled goons are variously reverential, sycophantic or dangerously protective, V has rarely missed the comfort of a revolver in his pocket as much as he does right now.

-

Back at the truck, Johnny is making bad decisions, having thankfully dismissed the idea of going in after V with all guns blazing regardless, he has now decided that since he is out of the way for a little while it’s a good time to call Kerry.

No one answers the first time, it’s early evening so Kerry could be getting ready to go out, or maybe napping, there’s even a possibility he’s just ignoring the call. Johnny tries again, this time an annoyed face fills his optics almost straight away,

“What?”

“And a good evening to you too Kerry.” Kerry rolls his eyes and waits for Johnny to continue. “Just thought we could, you know, catch up.”

The white-haired Rockerboy stares back incredulously,

“I saw you a week ago when you came bothering Vince, more’s the pity, had nothing to say to you then, even less now.”

“Ker, we’re going through some stuff to help you out here, a little bit of….”

“Whaddya mean ‘we’? Shiiiiiiit, you’re there with him aren’t you? You’re both gonna fucking get killed. If he gets hurt cause you fucked up I’m gonna personally rip off that good arm at hit you with the wet end. Sheesh. What you bothering me for anyway...has something happened?” Kerry asks in sudden alarm.

Johnny shakes his head in what he hopes is a comforting manner, “Chill choom, he’s just talking to some chick,” Johnny notices Kerry bristle slightly, “we’re nearly done, should be back in a few hours. I was thinking…maybe we could…y’know, get together for a jam when we get back?”

The other man puts the drink he is holding carefully down on the coffee table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Say that again.”

“I just thought, we could maybe, recapture a bit of that old magic.” Johnny says awkwardly.

“You know I don’t need this right?” asks Kerry, “My last album went fucking platinum over night, I sell out stadiums choom. What’s in it for me?”

“V would like it if we got along.” Johnny wasn’t trying to score a point, merely musing, but it strikes a chord with Kerry nonetheless.

Kerry sighs, “Fine we’ll give it a try. If I hear the magic word.”

Johnny still can’t get used to Kerry having the upper hand, but he needs him on side, “OK fine, please.”

“Get that man back in one piece and we’ll talk.” The call cuts off abruptly and Johnny slumps back into his seat, that’s the scariest shit he’s done all day.

-

V is sat looking more confident than he feels opposite Selene at a rickety wooden table in a room reminiscent of the one on the BD. He’s hyper-aware of being watched by several pairs of distrustful eyes, even if he wanted to try something stupid, he’d never make it out alive.

“I doubt you really came all this way to talk over old times,” says the woman softly, “I’ve seen the scream sheets, the feeds, you’re seeing that Rockerboy feller, that Kerry Eurodyne. If you’re here for vengeance it’s not gonna end well for you Vincent my sweet boy.”

“No, not vengeance. We found this.” V hands the shard over to Selene who hisses through her teeth and whispers urgently to one of the assembled goons.

“Someone fucked up, that’s not for public consumption, but if not vengeance then why are you here?”

“Information. Kerry clearly didn’t get flatlined that night, made it home safe the next day, how? Why? What happened in between?”

Selene sits back in her chair staring V in the eye like she’s deciding which version of the story to tell, she decides on the truth…

-

The car is crowded, the two scavs are in the back with Kerry slumped between them and Selene with her bodyguard driving are in the front. “Where we taking him?” asks the burly hustle.

“Out to Biotechnica Flats, but near the highway so that he’ll be found quickly, can’t let the Corpo scum think they can take us for a joke, I think they’ll get the message when their poster boy is being brought home in a body bag.”

Around half an hour into the incredibly dull journey a deep voice pipes up from the rear seats, “Hey, erm, Selene, I don’t think he’s breathin’.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Stop the car!”

In some ways, this is ideal, saves them a messy and unpleasant job, but having him flatline from an overdose of partying rather than a gunshot isn’t exactly the message they’re trying to send. The car squeals to a halt on the deserted highway and the men in the back drag Kerry’s unresponsive body onto the scorching tarmac, where he sustains his only major injury of the night, a cracked elbow.

“Fucking Hell Clive, do something.” Selene screams at the bodyguard, but his specialty is bullets not heart attacks so he stands staring with the rest of them, until…

“Of course he’s got Trauma Team Platinum.” Sighs an exasperated Selene as the distinctive AV hovers into view. “Leave him, we need to delta. If they see us we’re fucked.”

The quartet hastily scramble back into the car and, with a screech of tyres, turn back towards the warehouse leaving the Rockerboy at the side of the road. Selene watches the action through the rear camera, as he gets lifted into the AV she reflects on how fucked they’re all going to be when the boss finds out.

-

“And we’re you? Fucked I mean.”

“Woo yeah, got my guys taken off of me, lost my position, my son, Charlie, got shipped to the other side of the country. It was rough. But you know what? I was glad he got away, he seemed like a good guy. Not his fault the corpos and his shitty ex fucked him over, yeah it was fine. I still smile whenever I see him on TV or hear him on the radio, and when I heard that my little Vinny was his mainline I knew it had happened for a reason.”

Selene takes V’s hand and leans forward to look into his eyes, “I’m pleased for you, of how things have turned out, but you know a lot about us now, where we live, what we do, and I can’t hold these guys back forever. You need to leave and don’t talk to anybody about what you’ve seen and heard here.”

V nods and Selene walks him to the shutters and out, “Be safe V,” she looks over to the truck, “and say Hi to Johnny, we had a lotta fun back in the day.” V hides his shock well and heads back to the truck to meet Johnny who is leaning fluidly against the passenger door.

“So, did ya find out what you wanted to know?”

V thinks for a moment lighting a cigarette and passing it to Johnny, “I can’t say that I wanted to know all that, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

-

The story does not surprise Johnny in the least, Kerry’s behaviour was pretty standard even back in the Samurai days, ‘cept back then it was a hopeful punch to the chest or a friendly ripperdoc that brought him back around. “How much you gonna tell him?”

V gives a deep sigh, “Just what he needs to know, tricked by scavs, rescued by Trauma Team, no need for the rest.”

Johnny nods, lying to save someone’s feelings doesn’t really sit well with him but it’s not his biz, and V’s right, Kerry doesn’t need to know the rest.

The ex-merc’s optics glow green as a call comes in, his favourite face fills the screen, “V, hey. I miss you, you heading back? Find anything out?”

“Not much, be home soon. I’ll tell you then…Ker?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 27 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly), physical abuse (Not by Dean).

Word Count: 962

A/N: Stated as always this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ❤️

The bunker was eerily quiet, aside from the occasional sounds of Sam tapping away at his laptop. Dean sat at the table, staring blankly at the map in front of him, but his mind was miles away, still haunted by what happened with the First Blade and Abaddon. The Mark of Cain weighed heavy on him. It had changed him—he could feel it in his bones, and he hated it.

Julia watched him from across the room, her eyes filled with concern. She had seen Dean fight before, seen him at his worst, but this...this was something different. The way he had lost control when he killed Abaddon, the way the Mark had consumed him—it terrified her. She hadn't said anything, not yet, but she knew something was coming. Something worse.

Just then, Sam's voice broke the silence.

"Dean, I think I found something."

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at his brother. Sam turned the laptop toward him and Julia, showing them an article about a religious movement that had been spreading like wildfire. The leader was claiming to be a prophet, performing miracles, gathering followers, and speaking of divine judgment.

"That's Metatron," Dean muttered darkly.

Julia furrowed her brow. "Metatron? The scribe of God?"

"Yeah, and now he thinks he's God himself," Sam explained. "He's been using the Angel Tablet to boost his powers, and he's got Gadreel backing him up."

Dean clenched his jaw, the Mark pulsing beneath his skin. Metatron had already caused enough damage. He had manipulated Cas, killed Kevin, and now, he was rallying human followers like some sort of false messiah. It made Dean's blood boil.

"What about Cas?" Julia asked, leaning forward. "Where does he stand in all this?"

"Cas got his grace back," Sam replied. "But it's not enough. Metatron's got the Angel Tablet, and that makes him nearly unstoppable. We need to find him and take him down before things get worse."

Dean stood up, his fists clenched at his sides. "Then we go after him. I've had enough of Metatron's crap."

Before anyone could say more, the room filled with a soft flutter of wings, and Castiel appeared in front of them. He looked weary, but determined.

"Cas," Dean said, his voice laced with relief. "Good timing."

Cas gave a small nod, his blue eyes flickering between the three of them. "I've been following Metatron's movements. He's become more dangerous than ever, Dean. He's attempting to reshape the world in his image, using the Angel Tablet to turn himself into a god for mankind."

"We know," Sam said. "He's got a cult following, and he's been performing miracles. What's his endgame?"

"Metatron believes that if he can gather enough human worshipers, he can fully ascend and replace God," Cas explained. "He's delusional, but powerful. Gadreel is acting as his second-in-command, enforcing his will on the other angels who refuse to follow."

Julia stood, crossing her arms. "So, how do we stop him?"

Cas's expression hardened. "We need to destroy the Angel Tablet. Without it, Metatron will lose his power. But finding him won't be easy—he's fortified himself in a place where only his followers can reach him."

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. "Great. So we've got a wannabe god with an army of angels and humans. Awesome."

Cas stepped closer to Dean, his gaze somber. "Dean, the Mark of Cain...it's changing you. I can see it. You need to be careful."

Dean stiffened at the mention of the Mark, but he shrugged off Cas's concern. "I'm fine, Cas. Let's just focus on stopping Metatron."

Cas didn't seem convinced, but he let it go for now. There were bigger things at stake. "We need to move quickly. The longer Metatron has the Tablet, the more power he'll gain."

Dean nodded, but the Mark still throbbed beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the darkness inside him. He pushed it aside, focusing on the task ahead. They had to stop Metatron, no matter what it took.

As they prepared to head out, Julia watched Dean closely, worry etched on her face. She knew Dean was carrying more than he let on, and with the Mark eating away at him, she feared what might happen next.

But for now, they had a mission. And Julia wasn't about to let Dean face it alone.

Hours later, they tracked down one of Metatron's followers in an abandoned church, deep in the woods. It was cold and silent, the wind howling through the broken windows. Sam and Cas led the way, while Dean and Julia followed closely behind, their weapons drawn.

The air was thick with tension, and Julia couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

"Stay close," Dean whispered to her, his eyes scanning the area. He was more protective of her now, more on edge since the fight with Abaddon. Julia could feel it in the way he stayed near her, the way his hand lingered on his weapon.

As they moved through the church, they found Metatron's follower—an angel with a crazed look in his eyes. He attacked without warning, but Dean was faster, the Mark lending him strength. He swung the First Blade, cutting through the angel with ease, his eyes darkening as the power surged through him.

The others watched, a mix of concern and awe, as Dean stood over the fallen angel, breathing heavily. The Mark had taken over again, but this time, Dean managed to pull himself back, dropping the Blade to the floor.

Julia placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding him. "Dean?"

He looked at her, his eyes softening for a moment. "I'm okay."

But they both knew the truth.