#so heighten the impact of ‘oh he’s a little fucked up actually’

[nightcatssketchbook]

Hey I actually ended up finishing that piece! Baroque-inspired Percy de Rolo portrait.

[previousloversandmuses]

Slow Burn - Prologue

Part I | masterlist

A/N: This is a “must read” precursor to the whole series. Please read it to know what the origin story is. 

Pairing: Y/N x Obi Wan Kenobi

Words: 2048

Warnings: None. Brief mentions of violence. Low self esteem.

I am always one to experience emotions at a heightened frequency. Dangerous for a Jedi in training I know, but the council never took it as a sign of caution, just a minor set back. Happiness is bright, and beaming, even painful. My cheeks hurt for days after, smile lines sculpting my skin too early in life. Anger is powerful, my skin becoming vicious, and hot. Ripping through me like a silver bullet, and tearing my already unrelenting gut apart. I am loud, I am violent, and most of all, passionate. I would later become grateful of this curse, turning it into a blessing. Sadness is so deep. Tears crash like an ocean, and my heart would ache in my chest. The physical symptoms of my despair become overwhelming, and make me sick.

A fresh eighteen myself, my graduation is only a year or so away. Compared to other padawans, ones that don’t deal with the same struggles as myself, have already been graced with knighthood. They make their masters proud, and have already completed more missions at sixteen than I think I ever will in my entire career. 

I had the choice to become independent, to take my morals by the throat, and shove them deep down inside me, never to be seen again- but it really just isn’t that easy. See, I’m taking this time for meditation, or even a “behavioral therapy” of sorts. I have meetings with other council members, more powerful, and more prominent than my own master, who is often off tending to matters elsewhere. A mighty general he is, but they see me as someone who would cause more of a distraction, so I stay here at the temple left to my own devices. Sometimes I think it may be because I’m a woman, and other times I just take a good look in the mirror and recall the outburst that has stained my face only minutes before. 

Today was like any other; wake up, meditate, exercise, study, combat training, study, try and find time to eat something, and study. I walked down the main hallway with Master Yoda. He spoke to me about how he once struggled with his emotions as well, but with enough meditation, learned how to keep them at bay. Looking down at him and his vacant expression, I was surprised he had ever even felt an emotion a day in his life. That was until seconds later…

Stopping in my tracks, my hand flew over my heart. I recalled feeling out of breath, like my heart had physically stopped beating in my chest, or at least was trying to catch up with the rest of my body. I was shaky, yet somehow managed to take a knee. Something was off, that feeling in my chest grew and grew until I was faced with the blackest black I had ever felt. The darkest emotion to ever run through my body, as cold as ice, and heart stopping. It was deep, I felt it within the darkest abyss in my soul. It wrapped around my insides and nestled itself a home deep within the most shielded corners of my subconscious. That’s when Master Yoda felt it too. His hand flying over his heart, and steadying himself on my own shoulder. His face morphed into a snarl, gasping at the sudden pain that now infected his unwavering calm aura. 

...

After a painstakingly slow recovery, I sat on the edge of my bed. My quarters were neat and tidy. My bed, usually made up in the morning, because I have always been one for a routine. My walls weren’t bare, in fact they were almost completely covered in photographs I have taken from my travels as a Padawan. I'd go to the library, and butcher borrowed books, clipping photos of different words, and alien fauna. But today, those bright colors capable of producing fantasies for hours and hours, seemed black and white. 

I had been staring at the floor for sometime, desperate in trying to heal the ache in my chest. It felt as if I had a cold, like the burn after a deep cough. I felt so tight, so tense, an actual living embodiment of rigor mortis. Yet, at the same time, I hardly felt all there. It was as if my existence was floating all around me, and my shell was sitting vacant on an uncomfortable mattress. The knock on my door was enough for me to engulf myself again. 

“Y/N, are you decent?” The voice asks. 

“Yes,” I reply, rolling my shoulders back. 

“The council has requested an audience. Please report downstairs within the next few minutes.”

I nod my head, as if whoever was behind the door could see me. 

“An audience,”  I think. “Let’s add another year to that training plan, shall we?”

...

Walking downstairs to the council room, I can’t help but feel that all eyes are on me. They cut through me like a hot knife, slicing me thin. I feel so vulnerable. Like everyone around me can feel what I feel, and if I’m being honest, they probably do. A good Jedi who is in tune with the force, and especially in tune with others, can sense an intense emotion from a mile away. I’m sure at this moment I pretty much equate to an open book. No reason to try and hide it, force knows I struggle with concealing even an inkling of agitation. 

Seeing the council room in sight, I take a deep breath. This is it. I’m done for. This reaction was way too over the top. I’ve scared people, I’ve scared Master Yoda. Might as well just turn in my saber now and call it a day.

I walk into the door. Only a few masters sit scattered around. Master Yoda of course perched dead center, Master Windu waiting patiently to his right. But my master was nowhere in sight. You’d think if they were going to terminate me, that maybe my own mentor would be among them? Shaking his head, sending me glares that one could only compare to fucking daggers. He was tough on me for sure, maybe he was too ashamed of what I’d done to even bear to see me in this moment. 

“Coming here so quickly you did,” Starts Master Yoda. “Grateful we all are.”

I smile and bow my head. 

“Y/N,” Master Windu starts. “We’re here to discuss the events that happened earlier.” 

Oh god here it comes. This is it. I’m totally done for. I can’t even keep myself calm now. My face, getting hotter and more red by the second, is going to be the biggest tell. At least let me go out with some dignity. 

“Your reaction, what you felt at least, was not just brought on out of the blue. Master Yoda had the same experience, as did all of us on the council, and most Jedi and padawans in the temple.”

“I don’t understand.” I say. 

“At around 1 Coruscant time, an enemy bomb was detonated on Nal Hutta.”

Then it hit me. My heart sinking, I began to shake my head. 

“Unfortunately, Unit 505, and Master Cato were all killed on impact.”

My ears ring. Slowly, I move over to a chair, bracing myself. 

“That’s,” I start, trying to find the words to say. “He would’ve felt it, all of them would, I don’t understand.”

“We have a feeling it was planted by a Sith. That’s the only way it would’ve clouded any judgement.”

I slump into it, my vision going black, my head spinning. 

Master Cato has been with me since I was a very little girl. Although rough, tough, and brutally honest, he has done nothing but be a father to me time and time again. Everything I do is a reflection of him. He had been so busy at war, fighting day in and day out, I caught myself missing the commands, and demands I once so passionately despised. I took our whole relationship for granted, and now, is this the price I have to pay? The last time we spoke he told me how disappointed he was in my outburst in my Alien Fauna lab. I was being stubborn, I was bratty, and rolled my eyes. We had argued that entire call. He didn’t even attempt to say goodbye. Now, for an eternity, I will have to face the catastrophic guilt of my actions. Live with the fact that I never, ever told him how much I appreciated him. And even, how much I loved him so. The closest thing to family in my life, gone, in the snap of a finger. 

Both Master Yoda and Master Windu continued to talk but it all felt like empty words. I couldn’t hear them anyway. 

“Although this situation isn't ideal, we and the rest of the council applaud you for being able to feel something most of us haven’t been able to experience yet.” Claimed Master Windu.

I don’t listen. I stand up again. 

“What am I going to do? I don’t feel comfortable with being knighted yet. I had- we were working on so many things I-,” I stumbled on my words. 

“You’ll get placed with a new master.”

“There are no new masters. And even if I had been trained a certain way, I don’t know how to learn otherwise.” 

There is silence. 

“The force works in mysterious ways. Meant to happen, I feel.” 

I scoff. “Meant to happen,” what an evil thing to say.

I begin to walk off, stopping of course, only to get in the last word. 

“Not only have you told me that my master has been killed, but you lack any empathy. There is no emotion in your eyes. Nothing.”

“We mourn your master y/n, just as much as you do. You know what we stand for. You know our view on attachments.”

“He's like-,” I choke. “He was like my father.”

I can’t even begin to explain the pain I feel. Disgust in myself, I should’ve been better. I could’ve been better. The last few years of our relationship I’ve just been behaving poorly and rebelling, and then getting angry at him when he made me face the consequences. Like I wasn’t aware of the job I was made to do. I should’ve been nicer, I could’ve been nicer. It’s all going in a circle, all the things I should’ve done just morphed into things I couldn’t do. Maybe I was too emotional. Maybe my tears that fell leading up to this moment was all part of the plan, the final kicker to show that I wasn’t apathetic enough for this job. My empathy, my burning passion will always be my biggest flaw. This hole that gapes inside of me will never be filled, and now it grows bigger. It’s like a disease. Am I enough? Will I ever be enough?

“Put you with Master Kenobi, we will.” States Master Yoda. 

Master Windu is quick in turning his head. He glares at him. 

“Master Yoda, General Kenobi has just finished his training with Anakin. It is far too early to give him a new Padawan, if at all.”

Yoda nods, almost giggling. 

“Yet so freshly knighted, a Padawan Anakin already has. Obi Wan will have no problem with taking on a student. Graduates soon, she will.”

“But General Kenobi and I have two completely different methods of combat, let alone ideals.” I scoff. 

“All Jedi have the same ideals.” Adds Windu. 

“He is a Jedi guardian, I am a Jedi sentinel-“

“Train with General Kenobi you will. Not long ago he also lost his master too soon.”

Master Yoda nods to me. He stands up and walks over to the large windows behind him. Looking out over Coruscant, he takes a deep sigh of relief. 

“Master Windu,” says Yoda. “Get in contact with the 212th battalion.” 

I watch on as my fate now rests in a stranger's hands.

[thekitteninlove]

I want to start with a disclaimer that applies to all my fanfics.

BDSM has always been seen in a bad light, and i want to clear some misunderstandings. Any impact play (spanking, whipping, etc) should always be consensual and never send you to the hospital or leave bruises. It is also highly recommended to only spank the thighs or butt because they have the most protective fat and muscle. You must understand that this is just a game, there's no 'beating' or anything like that and i don't want to encourage any sort of violence by this, which is why i'm saying this. It's hard to explain it. It's like in a movie when 2 people are fighting. To the observer it looks like they're harming each other, but irl they're just acting. It's just an act. The damage taken isn't anywhere as bad as it seems.

Want a scientific explanation? Here it is. When the butt, for example, is spanked it stimulates the skin’s nerve receptors and can trigger the release of feel-good endorphins and the neurotransmitter dopamine.

Okay, now, so i'm participating in the kinktober event, but i combined more kink prompts from @xxsycamore 's list. They are: temperature play, sensory deprivation and begging. From the dialogue list i did 25. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stay awake anymore. Maybe after that too.” At first i planned to only do day 30, but then i thought that temperature play would go well with sensory deprivation, so i wrote this. This takes place in Oliver's route, which i did last year, so i don't remember too much from it. It's when they try to escape from the Magic Tower only for Dalim and the other disciples to stop them midway. This is what would've happened if Oliver and the MC hadn't been able to escape from them.

Characters: Dalim Tweedle, Oliver appears only at the beginning

Warning: smut, bondage, sensory deprivation, temperature play, begging

Title: Dalim's doll

I was at a crossroads. Either I could just run away or become Dalim’s doll to save Oliver. I didn’t want to abandon Oliver because that’d be an awful thing to do, but I didn’t want to become that disciple’s plaything either. I didn’t even know him. But I couldn’t see any other way around it. There was a large group of magic disciples clad in black robes right in front of me who were like a pack of wolves ready to attack at any given moment. There was no way I could defeat them all by myself, so I chose what I thought was the best option at that time.

“Alright. I agree to become your doll, Dalim” I could see Oliver’s eyes widen in shock, while Dalim seemed quite pleased by my decision. “On the condition that you won’t harm Oliver in any way” I added hastily to remind him of the promise he made. Oliver tried to put on a fight, but since it was daytime he didn’t have much strength because he was in his child form, so in the end he was taken away by the disciples. I was left alone with Dalim, who seemed to be their leader since they all obeyed his orders. While I followed him through the forest back to the tower I mulled over the decision that I made. I believed it was the best choice, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Who knows what he had in store for me? I started to get nervous as I walked through the dimply lit hallways of the tower. I was worried that they might want to use me in their crazy experiments, so at this point I began to rethink my choices. But before I could come up with any escape plan, Dalim stopped in front of a door and said “Since I tend to stay here more than the other disciples I was given this room to use it for resting”. Once he opened the door he invited me in. It wasn’t too small, but it wasn’t big either. It looked just like a bedroom, with one double bed in the right corner of the room and a nightstand besides it. On the left side of the room there was a closet and some bookshelves. I think there was also a window, but any light coming from it was blocked by a large drape with the symbol of the tower on it, so the room was, just like the hallway, dimly lit by some magic crystals embedded in the wall.

“This will be your new room. I hope you like it” I heard him say.

As I turned to him to ask him about his plans he pulled his hood off and I gasped in surprise. I recognized him. He was the barkeeper I met at a pub in the Central Quarter. Relief flooded me as I realized I at least haven’t given myself to a complete stranger and that Dalim wasn’t as bad as he seemed to be.

“You shouldn’t drop your guard around me, princess. You don’t know me as well as you think you do” he warned me, but that didn’t convince me that he was the villain he pretended to be. To begin with, I’ve talked with some of the girls that knew him and all said only good things about him. The only bad things I’ve heard people say about him was that he was a whore who stole their partners away from them.

“You say that, but I’ve heard about how well you treat the ladies, so it’s kinda hard to believe you’re that bad” as soon as I said that a grin spread over his face.

“Oh, so you won’t believe me? Don’t say I didn’t warn you” he said as he drew near me. “Ever since I first saw you in my tavern I wanted to touch you, to feel how smooth your skin was under my hands” his heated look along with his words made me realize how much he wanted me. “But that man stopped me and I had to hold back” as he said that he slowly made his way behind my back. “I’ve waited so long for a chance to make a move on you without being interrupted” he put his hands around me from behind. “And now I finally got you where I wanted”. I heard him say that in a low voice right next to my ear, which sent a tingling sensation down my spine. “You’re my doll now, so I’m going to play with you to my heart’s content”

I saw him bring a blindfold to my face and tie it up around my eyes. “This should make things a bit more interesting” I heard his voice come from behind me. I let out a yelp of surprise when I felt him lift me up in his arms. “Relax, my lady. As long as you’re being a good girl and listen to me I won’t do anything bad to you”. I then felt something soft under me as he put me down on what was most likely the bed. He brought my hands over my head and bound them to the bed with what I think were a pair of fluffy handcuffs before I felt the bed shift a little as he sat down next to me.

“Why are you tying me up?” I was a bit tense since I didn’t know what was he planning to do to me.

“I just don’t want my doll moving around too much while I play with her” his reply was a bit too vague for my liking, but I decided to just wait and see what his plans with me were. He didn’t sound like he wanted to divulge too much.

As he began to unbutton my shirt I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety form within me. “My Lord said he wanted to play with you too” I heard him say all of a sudden, “but I don’t share my dolls, so I convinced him to find another toy” his words brought me some relief. I didn’t want to experience real torture. As if he knew what I was feeling he continued saying “So don’t worry, princess, I won’t let anyone else lay even a finger on you.” His face must’ve been quite close to my neck because I could feel him breathe on it. “You’re mine now” I heard him say before he pressed his lips against my neck, eliciting a soft sigh from me. Since I was blindfolded and couldn’t use one of my senses, the other senses were heightened, so every touch and kiss I felt on my body was more gratifying than usual and I soon started wanting more. I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way towards my enemy, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him. So much. And he seemed to want me just as much because his hands were hungrily roaming my body, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “Ah, I finally got my hands on you, princess, and I won’t let you go.” His words were filled with desire. “I doubt you can even imagine how much I’ve been craving you all this time” He paused to place another kiss on my neck. “but I can give you a hint”. He pressed his hips against mine so I could feel how hard he was for me even through our clothes and I let out a sigh of pleasure as he began rubbing against me. Knowing that he desired me so much was quite arousing and being bound and unable to do anything but submit to him and let him do whatever his dirty mind came up with was even more arousing. I was enjoying this too much, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like this either.

The way he was touching me and his movements were driving me crazy. I was supposed to hate my enemy, yet here I was… craving him.

“I can tell that you’re enjoying this, my lady, but I still want you to say it. I want to hear you beg for it”

Dammit, I didn’t want him to know how much of an effect he had on me, but now that he knows… no, I won’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg. Why should i?

There was a moment of silence while he waited for me to say something, but when he realized that I wasn’t going to say anything he said in an almost amused voice “Hmm, so you don’t want to do that? Fine then, I can just play with you until you do”

Play!? But I’m in no mood for playing right now! Is what I wanted to say, but I knew he wouldn’t listen, so I kept silent

His hands kept sliding over my body, gradually warming me up. “Your skin is so soft, I can’t keep my hands off you” there was a brief pause before he added “Actually, I think you got too warm. I need to cool you off. Luckily, I have some cold water with some ice cubes in it nearby, so I’ll use that”

I felt him move on the bed to get the glass of water. I gasped when I felt a few drops of cold water land on my neck. “Uh-oh, was that too cold? I’ll warm you back up a bit then” I then felt something warm and wet on my neck as he ran his tongue on my cooled off skin, making me sigh contentedly. He kept playing with my senses like this for a while, pouring a few drops of cold water on me, then warming me with his mouth. Sometimes he’d blow some warm air on me to tease me before using his tongue to stir the fire within me. Once he got rid of my clothes I felt too exposed, so I wanted to cover myself with something, but since my hands were cuffed all I could do was close my legs

“Oh, you’re feeling bashful now, my lady?” I heard Dalim’s mischievous voice come from above me, while he managed to slip one hand between my legs and rub his fingers over my entrance. “But you’re so hot over here, don’t you want me to pour some cold water over this hot mess?”

The way he moved his hand over that spot was so arousing I unintentionally let out a moan.

“Come on, princess, I know you want to”. He used both of his hands to spread my legs and I didn’t put up much of a resistance. As soon as he did that I felt a few drops of cold liquid run down my pussy.

“If you’re a bad girl and don’t stay still I’ll have to use the rope to tie you up until you won’t be able to move even an inch, so you better stay like this” there was a warning tone in his voice that had a strange effect on me. Instead of making me afraid of him, it made me even more aroused.

After he poured some cold water on me, he pressed against that area what was most likely the tip of his cock, then he rubbed the length of it over it. “Do you feel how much I want you?” his voice was quite husky now. “I can hardly hold myself back from going all out on you, but I want to hear you beg for it”

He kept rubbing himself against me, stopping only to pour some cold water on my sweet spot before resuming what he was doing. I didn’t want to yield to him, but I was about to reach my limit and there was no way I could escape from this difficult situation I put myself in. His movements made me so hot and wet for him I couldn’t contain myself any longer and said “Ravish me already”. I made a sound of surprise when I felt a sting on my butt as he spanked me.

“That can’t even be called begging” he sounded slightly annoyed, but not too much. “I said beg”

Dammit, fine then.He made me crave him so much that I finally gave in to him and said “please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me”

“Yes, you finally said it” He seemed quite satisfied by this as he pushed himself inside me, eliciting a sound of delight from me. As he began moving I heard him say in a low voice “Oh, it feels so good… mmmh, I’m going to completely lose my control”

I could tell he was trying to control his movements, but after a while he lost it as he began going faster at an erratic pace. Seeing that his desire for me was so strong he’d lose control made me even more aroused. I hoped the others weren’t able to hear us, but with how loud I was moaning, I doubted that they couldn’t hear it. I don’t think he’s supposed to do such things in his workplace, but then again he’s in a high position, so maybe he tends to get off scot-free for doing such things.

Waves of delightful sensations coursed through me as he went all out on me and I tightly gripped the bed frame to which I was cuffed. His hands were on my hips making sure I was staying as still as possible. I couldn’t see anything since I had the blindfold on, so my mind was focused on the naughty things he was doing to me. The pleasure had been quickly building up inside me until it reached its peak intensity as I came under him.

After he calmed down a bit he took off my blindfold laid right next to me. Since I couldn’t move much because of the handcuffs I just turned my head towards him to see his beautiful dark grey eyes staring intently at me. We were still breathing hard after that passionate love making session and I was still trying to regain my composure.

Dalim broke the silence when he asked “Why did you sacrifice yourself to save that man? Is he that important to you?”

Sacrifice myself? Oh, he must be talking about how I offered myself to be his doll in exchange for Oliver’s safety. That man better thank me. “Well, he’s just a friend, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave him there, in the hands of the bad guys. If something bad were to happen to him because I ran away it’d be partly my fault”

Dalim sounded a bit confused as he said “That can’t be. The blame would only fall on the ones who do the deed, not on anyone else”

“You’ve got a point, but… what I’d be thinking is ‘if only I’d stayed there and negotiated somehow then this wouldn’t have happened’. You know what I mean?”

“I guess. I still think you shouldn’t feel guilty about that though”

He didn’t seem to get it, but that didn’t matter. His hands were back on my body before he said “I can see you care about him more than I would like you to and it makes me jealous”

More than he’d like me to? What does he mean by that? I wondered, but I didn’t have time to think about the answer because my mind got distracted when he moved his hips back on mine.

“Ready for round two, my lady?”

“Huh? Already?”

He gave me a grin and said “You’re my doll now, remember? I’m going to use your body for my own pleasure just like I would with a sex doll. So I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stay awake anymore. Maybe after that too.”

He began moving again and all I could do was moan at how good he was making me feel. He kept doing naughty things to me for hours until it was time for him to report to his lord. Then he made sure I had everything I needed, which was quite thoughtful of him, before heading off to do his job. I was quite tired after all the things he did to me, so I quickly fell asleep after he left, feeling relieved that the deal I made with him didn’t turn out to be as bad as I thought it’d be.

[wallwriterstuff]

Hi! Can I please request a Demetri x mate!fem!reader where he finds her (when she’s still human) severely injured, and he can sense she’s his mate, and decides to immediately turn her because he doesn’t want to lose her (I’m sure he wouldn’t take the chance of taking her to the hospital) and when she wakes up, she’s in the Volturi castle. I’m sure it’d be really shocking for her because she didn’t know about the vampires (she thought they were fiction), and now she’s a vampire and has a mate,Demetri. He would be so sweet when he’s helping her adjust!! Ooo what if she woke up as a vampire near Christmas time,and she’s really sad because she was going to spend Christmas with family, but now she’s a vampire, so she can’t, so Dem finds out everything he can about this “human custom” (I feel like he’d call Christmas this lol), and he sets up their room all Christmas like and gets her presents, mistletoe 😘, a tree, etc, and ahhh he would be so sweet, if she could cry, she’d be bawling omg... Also she would so somehow convince him to wear matching Christmas pajamas... And then Felix would walk in to see this LOL

This Thing You Call Christmas ||Demetri Volturi x Female Reader||

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury, violence and trauma.

Words: 5391

Summary: When a wrong turn down a dreary alleyway spells disaster for the reader, she finds that Chrismas miracles come in all forms. (I swear despite the warning tags there are some fluffy bits in this.) 

It wasn’t really clear to you what had happened for several moments after the event. One moment you had simply been jogging to reach the end of an alleyway that had creepier vibes than an abandoned psychiatric ward, and the next you were…hot. Too hot. Just for a moment. So hot in fact you could feel how cool the breeze was on your skin. Everything in that one brief moment was so heightened and yet so confusing, your blood roaring in your ears and your mouth spouting protest after protest with some not so lady-like words at the man that had shoved you against the wall.

Then an explosion of pain in your side had ricocheted through each and everyone one of your ribs, bursting outward like a small, red hot explosion, the lava leaking out and soaking your shirt, your hip bone. It wasn’t until you looked down and saw the knife embedded in your gut that you understood what had happened. In that brief, infinitesimal moment, the world just stopped. Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your system as your eyes met your attackers. He was a scrawny little boy, dirt smudged on his face and clothes utterly ruined, homeless most likely and in desperate enough need of cash he’d stuck you with whatever he could find to get it.

“Please…take the bag just don’t pull out the-“

“Shit!” he swore, yanking the knife free of your abdomen to cut through the leather of your bag handle and steal it away. You cried out, knees giving way beneath you the moment he let you go. Just like that, he’d drastically reduced your chances of escaping this alleyway alive. The ground was cold and wet beneath your knees, typical British weather not on your side to make anything better in this shitty scenario.

“Fuck…f-fuck,” you whimpered, hand pressed to your side as you rapidly lost blood, “H-help! Someone help me! Help me please!” you called out. The wound in your side throbbed, a fiery kind of ache that radiated outward from the focal point and shot through every nerve ending your body possessed purely to torment you as you tried to stand up straight. Blood was seeping through the gaps in your fingers, your shirt soaked with it as you collapsed sideways into the wall. Gritting your teeth, you used your other arm to try and lever yourself up, hobbling forward a few steps. Every step was agony and you could feel the colour draining form your face, your heart beating hard in your chest as adrenaline pounded through your veins.

No matter how loud you cried out nobody seemed to hear your desperation. No matter how many steps you took the mouth of the alleyway seemed to get further away, or maybe it was your vision starting to tunnel, who knew? Your legs gave out and you hit the floor hard, face crunching into the cement and nose shattering upon impact. More blood burst over your face, hot and fresh, and your vision began to blacken at the edges. Gasping for air, tears stung your eyes. This was not how your life was supposed to end. You were young, only 22, you had so much to live for yet that you hadn’t been able to achieve or see or do. Bleeding out in an alleyway because of a mugging gone wrong? Not your idea of a good way to go out. Christmas was just around the corner, you were supposed to go back home and spend it with family, instead they would have to come to London and peer inside a body bag to identify their daughter.

After that, time became a blur. You had no way of honestly telling what happened next, the world going dark as you descended further and further into the pits of hell. It had to be hell, didn’t it? That was where the pits of flame swallowed you whole to torture you for eternity, right? You hadn’t stopped burning since you closed your eyes, a red hot poker too big for your veins being forced through them at an agonisingly slow speed, splitting nerve endings and peeling away your flesh inch by inch. The screams in your own head were deafening and you were sure the devil must have enjoyed watching you writhe on his table. The raging inferno just didn’t go away either. You weren’t sure what was worse, the intensity of the burn or the fact you actually started to get used to it.

That relief was never going to last, not when the devil liked to torture his victims. The fire began receding from extremities first, the tips of your fingers going blissfully cool, tingling with numbness as the flames dissipated and feeling began to return. It was like being submerged in cold water and you welcomed the blissful feeling, but even that was accompanied by a worse kind of pine, a searing, blistering agony in your chest that was eating away at your rabbiting heart. It was gone as quickly as it came, and for a second you forgot how to breathe, the air stolen from your lungs at the sudden, intense relief. No more fire, no more burning. With a sigh you finally unscrewed your eyes, or at least, it felt like you had kept them clenched shut for a thousand years at that point. There was no ache in your jaw though you were sure you had screamed, no pain in your body lingering from the torment it had gone through.

The only problem was how sensitive you felt. After burning for so long your body was reacting to everything, senses heightened to the point the world seemed surreal. The air was ripe with a thousand smells, your tongue tingling with the taste of each one and your eyes were so laser-focused on everything all at once it was difficult to focus on any one thing. Beneath your fingers you could feel every strand of cotton that made up the dark sheets you were lying on. Where even were you? This was…it wasn’t a hospital bed, too plush and the colours to deep for the neutral tones of a sickroom. There was expensive looking wooden furniture with rich, dark tones and photographs and a fireplace made of stone.

“It is a relief to see you awake.”

One moment you were relishing in the softness of sheets and sinking into a heavenly mattress, and the next you were flat against the wall across from you, your spine crunching through the stone even though it should have been the other way around. Your wide eyes looked down at the chunks of stone near your feet, the dust settling on your shoulders, and then you tried to estimate the distance between you and the bed. It was easily four meters. How had you crossed four meters in such a short time span? Don’t even start on your posture right now. Since when did you crouch and bare your teeth at people like that? It was like a deep, animalistic urge had taken over, your senses still screaming danger as you tried to take in all the new information, the new man.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the sharpest jawline you had ever seen on a man. The crystalline quality of his skin was equally as distracting, it was almost pearlescent he was so pale, and it distracted you just long enough that you didn’t notice the redness of his irises till after you had already become fascinated with starring at him. Chestnut brown hair looked soft enough to run your fingers through, golden strands interwoven and reflecting the minimal light coming in from the window. He wore a suit, the very definition of elegance as he sat back in a leather armchair and watched you carefully, like he was a talent-show judge maybe trying to decide if you were worth his time.

“Who are – oh.” You blinked, pulled out of your defensive stance by the sound of your voice. It was you but it…wasn’t. How could you sound so soprano sweet? It was almost like you had swallowed sugar and it was now sprinkled throughout your words. His head tilted, a smile pulling at full, pink lips to reveal the briefest flash of pearl white teeth.

“A man who means you no harm, I assure you. There are a lot of changes you need to be made aware of, things I do not expect you to fully believe right away but need you to know are true. Will you give me the time to explain once we have gotten you fed?” he asked. Fed? You wanted to ask what he meant because you weren’t honestly all that hungry, but his words reignited the fire in your body. Your throat was absolutely parched, ripping itself apart for any sort of relief. With a gasp you doubled over, hand flying to your throat like you might just be able to rip the pain out.

“I – w-what d-did you – gah!” you rasped. A large, warm hand found your shoulder, and though the touch of a stranger should have felt foreign and wrong it was relieving, soothing.

“You will focus much better once you have fed. Wait right here, I promise you it will be over soon.” He reassured you with a gentle rubbing motion on your shoulder. You weren’t too sure you could have moved even if you wanted to, your mind going haywire as the intense fire burned brighter, blazing through your throat. Water, you needed water. Stumbling towards the bright white porcelain of a bathroom, you threw the door open wider and gasped when the wood shattered against the tiles. It was difficult to think beyond the burning in your throat though as you forced the tap to turn on, trying to gulp down water in the hopes it might soothe your throat some. Gallons must have washed down your throat by the time the handsome stranger returned, and what came next was…a blur.

Everything was euphoric, and hazy, a fog slowly lifting from your mind. The sound of dripping water leaked into your consciousness, your nose smelling something incredibly rich and sweet that made your throat ache – the burn was thankfully gone. Though your ears and nose seemed to be working your eyes were not. All you could see was red, dark crimson coating the walls and, if your reflection was to be believed, you. It dripped from your chin, coating your lips a ruby red and staining the pretty black dress you had been wearing in large swatches. The handsome stranger was stood in the doorway, watching you with a hint of amusement in his irises. It took you a fraction of a second to understand where the red drenching had come from. A woman who might once have been pretty lay in your arms limp as a ragdoll, drained of all colour with her throat ripped out and trailing along her collarbone.

Her blood was quite literally on your hands.

With a gasp, you dropped her shattered body and almost slipped on the water blanketing the floor, your body righting itself at unnatural speed. You twisted, the horror on your face obvious as a sob ripped its way free of your chest, hands flying up to your mouth as a flurry of terror and guilt and horror washed through you. The tap had been warped, your fingerprints indented into the metal and the top twisted off. Water had flooded the entire bathroom, and as your panic grew more intense your eyes stung as though you wanted to cry, but no tears would come. You could barely breathe, yet you couldn’t feel your heart rabbiting in your chest as you knew it should. The tile shattered beneath your knees as you fell, not a scratch on you as you spotted the second body over the tips of your fingers. Splinters of wood had been soaked by the overflowing tap, the door almost as broken as the bodies at your knees.

“No. N- no, what happened to me?” you cried out, chest heaving as you buried your head in your hands. Within seconds you were enveloped by strong arms, a warm body moving in behind you until you were cradled close, shielded from the damage around you.

“Shhhh sh sh sh, everything is fine cara mia, you did well,” the smooth whisper was like the voice of the devil tempting you to sin further, “This is normal for our kind, this is how we survive, you have done no wrong.” He promised, whispering quiet reassurances while you struggled to calm. Whoever this man was, you should have been afraid of him. He had somehow made you blackout and murder two people, you’d cannibalised them actually, and whatever else he had done to you you were now abnormally strong to. He had made you into some sort of monster, and yet…

“Wh-why?” you sniffled. Why had this happened to you? Why had these two unfortunate souls had to die? Why had you burned so badly for so long? There was lots of questions and so little time to ask them, so many answers you weren’t actually sure you wanted. He was stroking your hair now, his embrace feeling safe and warm; while you were in his arms, you could almost forget about the scene surrounding you.

“Forgive me, I know this is overwhelming, but I could think of no other way to save you. I had to change you my love.” He whispered. Your sobbing had died to sniffles now, and you lifted your head to look up at him, feeling lost and desperate for anything that might make sense. It was all so confusing and the only thing grounding you right now was him, because you could just sense that he was the same as you, only he was much more sure of what he was and his place in the world.

“Change?”

“Yes, change. I had to change you from human, to vampire. The burning you felt was my venom. Please understand I had no choice,” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek, eyes scrutinising your face. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk some more, yes?” The word vampire was ricocheting around your brain, your body moving whichever way he wanted to lead it. It was like you had blacked out again, suddenly standing in a much cleaner bathroom as the handsome stranger turned knobs to adjust water that came tumbling out of a luxurious looking waterfall spout above your head. You blinked, shocked to realise that despite not paying attention you could distinctly recall the way he had carefully moved you from room to room with the promise of a hot shower and fresh clothes.

For his part, Demetri was incredibly worried about you. At first he had simply feared his venom wouldn’t take, that he was too late when he found you that awful night, surrounded by your blood and struggling to use the last of the air in your lungs. He’d been attracted by the smell of your blood, not having smelt something quite that strong and alluring in a while. He thought it was his lucky day, a bloodsinger perhaps, but he found you instead, broken and abused, twitching in a pool of crimson – the scent was strong because so much of it had spilled onto the concrete.

Demetri had known from the moment he saw you that you were meant to be his, everything about you screaming to every instinct he had. Your scent teased his nose as one of the best he’d ever come across, your tenor irresistibly bright and warm, the curves of your broken body looking like they were physically molded for his hands to hold. He had never turned anyone before, but it was really the only option he had once he realised he couldn’t rouse you to so much as ask your name. His next worry had been trying to stop. Once his teeth had sunk into your flesh and the sublime taste of you hit his tongue it had been a race against time to hold his position long enough so enough venom could infiltrate your system, all while not draining anymore of the precious little blood you had left. He had almost lost it when he tried to seal your stab wound with his tongue.

You had taken four, agonisingly long days to open those vivid red eyes. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything else, so distracted that Aro had been forced to give him time off so he could sit by your side – and do a bit of hunting on your behalf. Now you were nearly comatose in Felix’s shower, his best friend busy cleaning up his bathroom as best he could so you wouldn’t return to that horror scene. Demetri had known you would be shocked, that it would be a lot to adjust to, you had been ripped from a safe world where monsters like him didn’t exist after all, forced to become one yourself without consent. How was he supposed to explain it all to you? How did he even begin to make you understand the bond that was set between you? You had calmed so quickly in his embrace, a sure sign you felt it to.

“Vampires aren’t real. I know they’re not, but the things I did…you can’t even tell I was stabbed. It shouldn’t be possible, none of it should be.” Your voice was as soft and melodic as windchimes, an addicting song he could listen to on repeat for hours. Demetri had sat as a silent sentry on Felix’s bed, listening for any sign you might be distressed again so he could swoop in and save you. Every little sob had torn at his heart, his arms aching to hold you until it all went away. He gave you a slow nod, patting the space beside him in a silent invitation, one he was glad you accepted. Your scent was unique, comforting, intoxicating. From the moment you sat beside him, it was all he could focus on.

“We are very real love. You are faster and stronger in this body, your senses keener. My venom has immortalised you as you are, unchanging from this day for the rest of eternity.” He informed you, his voice soft so as not to startle you. Newborns were unpredictable, driven by animalistic instinct. Vibrantly red eyes stared back at his for a brief moment before your gaze dipped to your hands. You were wearing one of his shirts, the premium cotton almost swamping you and landing at mid-thigh. The sleeves had covered your hands, and he moved to kneel in front of you to roll them up.

“Your venom?” you asked, eyes watching his every move. Demetri nodded.

“Yes, you have venom to. It coats our teeth to immobilise our prey, and our joints to allow us to move faster than anything else on earth.” He answered honestly. A slow exhale was the only response he got from you as he carefully brushed his fingertips against your arm, desperate for even the smallest amount of contact with you. Every time he touched you he felt his nerve-endings sing with relief, like he had been suffering for a thousand years without ever knowing he was till he had found you.

“So…vampires are fast…and strong.” You mumbled, pulling your hands back subconsciously. Demetri nodded, moving back to sit beside you.

“Some of us are gifted also. I, for example, can track anyone anywhere in the world. There is much to learn still, try not to overwhelm yourself learning it all in one go,” he advised, head tilting slightly, “Since I am answering so many of your questions perhaps you can answer one of mine?” You looked somewhat bewildered, as if you hadn’t actually considered he might have things he wanted to know to.

“Like what?” you sounded cautious and Demetri couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing too sinister I promise, but I was hoping I might learn your name.” he hinted. He was sure you would be blushing if you could, but you turned your body towards him and held out a hand anyway.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.” your hand was small in his own, delicate, and yet when you gripped you gripped too tight. He winced slightly as the skin cracked and you withdrew immediately, looking horrified by what you’d done. Demetri cradled his broken hand to him with a light laugh.

“My apologies, I should have known better than to ask a newborn to shake my hand,” he dismissed it with ease even as the skin stung and knitted itself back together, “I am Demetri, Demetri Volturi. Welcome to our coven, tesoro.” You swallowed, looking nervous again.

“When can I go home? I…you’ve been really kind but I have to get back, my parents, they’re expecting me to come for Christmas.” Your teeth worried your lower lip and his heart ached a little, knowing you wouldn’t like the news he had to give you.

“Given the damage you have unwittingly caused today, would you think it wise of me to let you return home?” he asked gently. He watched your breathing pick up slightly, your expression twisting into disappointment and upset.

“But it’s Christmas, I have to get back, I always go home for Christmas.” You insisted, voice wavering. Christmas? Demetri couldn’t honestly comprehend what was so important about it that you had to go back for it every year. It was a time of year for human greed to rear its ugly head and nothing else, wasn’t it? He couldn’t very well say that to you, however.

“It will not be possible anymore Y/N. Please understand, to the rest of the world vampires do not exist for good reason, we remain hidden, from this moment forth, you no longer exist either, not as you used to.” He wished he’d never said anything when you began to cry once more, and even though he was sure part of you was angry at him for doing this to you, you still curled into his side to accept the comfort he offered. The days that followed were some of the strangest of his life, his mate so near and yet so far. He understood that everything was overwhelming, not at all what you were used to, but you were much shyer and more withdrawn than he had expected. There was little he could do to coax you out of your shell except give you time, though his saving grace was you seemed willing to be in his presence more so than anyone else’s.

It was a pattern he found he rather liked. You came to him when you had questions you wanted answers for, and curious little thing that you were you had lots of them to; only he was ever allowed to get close enough to touch you, and only he got to be near when you fed, you still needing the guidance and his grounding influence to move past the initial guilt till it was almost negligible. Once, when Felix had tried to hand you some spare clothes’ he had collected rather thoughtfully from town for you, he had accidentally brushed your hand with his own and you had flinched straight into Demetri, like you subconsciously were seeking his protection. Another time (he wasn’t quite sure you had known you were doing it) but one night, as he trawled the internet for more information on Christmas traditions in Britain on his tablet, you had simply been watching the flames dance in the hearth beside him when you scooted a little closer and rested your head on his shoulder. His hand had reached for your own and you hadn’t hesitated to slip your fingers between his own, squeezing lightly.

His favourite memory by far had to be the day you found out you glowed. At first you’d been utterly startled, flitting past his window so fast to show him something you hadn’t fully seen anything, but the glimpse of glitter was enough to slow you down, leaving you looking bewildered as you struggled to see exactly what had happened. With a chuckle, he’d pulled you back towards the window, keeping your hand in his and gently rolling up the sleeve of your jumper before slowly moving your arm into the light. The awe on your face was an expression he wouldn’t soon forget, wide red eyes looking between him and the diamonds encrusted in your skin before a laugh so sweet it could have been a baby’s coo rent the air.

“We sparkle?”

“We do. You are as precious as any rare gem love, the proof is in your skin.”

You had tilted your head just enough that he could have kissed you, if you’d both so desired it in that moment, but you’d barely known him a week and it didn’t seem appropriate. He’d let you pull away from him, averting your gaze in that shy way you had that he found so endearing. He wouldn’t let you pull away next time.

“Demetri? Where can I put this?” Felix brought him out of his reverie, and he turned his head from the fireplace to see what exactly he was holding. He had ordered a lot of things after all. His tree was currently a little lopsided, lacking ornaments on the right-hand side, so he hoped it was another box of baubles. You were currently in the training room with Alec and Jane, the twins agreeing to distract you while he set up his room with everything he had brought. He couldn’t do much about your general need to acclimate to the new life you had discovered, but he could soothe your grief by bringing Christmas to you, right?

It had taken him a few minutes to figure out how the stupid tree was supposed to go up and he was admittedly irritated with how many specks of glitter he could see in his carpet, but he figured it would all be worth it when everything was ready.

“Those are for the fireplace.” He informed the giant. Felix glanced about the place, much different to Demetri’s usual decoration. The Masters’ had been generous at first, giving you our own space to allow you to acclimate to your new senses in some peace and quiet, but since you were mated to him it was expected you would eventually share a room, and the Masters’ patience was running very thin. Demetri hoped you would accept the proposition soon given you spent most of your time in his room with him anyway. Felix knew better than to stick around, knowing he would get irritated by his friends fussing eventually. Demetri didn’t mind, he had a tree to trim after all, though it was quickly becoming more arduous by the minute as he tried to ensure a balance between tinsel and ornaments. With his speed, he had transformed his room in a little under two hours, and from the look on your face when you walked into the room it had well been worth it.

Your mouth parted, eyes alight with wonder and confusion, you took in an array of lights adorning the bookshelves, fireplace and tree. There was tinsel on almost every flat surface, and fake snowmen and santa’s sitting along a mantlepiece dripping with fake icicles.

“Metri…” you breathed. He hoped your lack of words was a good sign. Hesitant steps carried you about the room, your fingertips dancing over the ornaments scattered about.

“Are they to your liking?” he asked. His eyes dipped to the package in your grip but you seemingly had forgotten it. Your eyes were sparkling as you turned to face him.

“I – these are – we…their perfect.” You whispered, voice raw with unshed emotion. Demetri watched you come closer towards him, meeting you halfway to prevent you from going any further with a smile. His eyes flickered upward to the white berries of mistletoe he’d carefully hung from the chandelier – his plan was in motion. Your eyes followed his gaze, breath hitching slightly. Demetri had never wanted to kiss anyone more than he did in that moment, you and your wide-eyed stare was too tempting, the soft glow of multicoloured lights illuminating the planes of your face making you as picture perfect as any hallmark Christmas movie character he had forced himself to watch.

“I tried to read up on some Christmas traditions for you. Most seem to be very subjective but I chose a few I knew I could bring to Volterra,” He murmured, “I admit, this was one of my favourites…I was rather hoping you would indulge me, love.” He placed his hand on your waist as gently as possible, hoping not to scare you away. Timid thing that you were, he wasn’t sure you would agree, but he wanted to give you plenty of chance to choose for yourself. You didn’t need to know that your decision here could make or break him, that he wasn’t just asking you for permission to kiss you. What he really wanted to know was whether or not you accepted him as your mate. You bit your lip, eyes flickering away briefly.

“Only if you indulge me to,” you bargained, pulling your package up between you pair. Demetri raised his eyebrows slightly, curious to know what was in the squishy looking plastic envelope. “I…I didn’t know you were going to do all this for me but I was going to ask that…well, you see my family always get matching pyjamas to spend Christmas Day in and I just…since we both are free on Christmas day…you don’t have to but-“

“I would be honoured, love,” Demetri cut you off, “There is little I would not do for you.” Your grip on your pyjama package tightened, your breathing a little shaky now and eyes filled with trepidation. Demetri searched your expression, looking for anything that might warrant some hope, but your deer in the headlights expression remained and he was truly uncertain as to where you stood.

“I don’t understand,” You admitted quietly, “I’m nothing special. I don’t understand why you did all of this for me.” Demetri sighed, absent-mindedly brushing your hair back from your face. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so bloody frustrating. Why couldn’t you see how much you meant to him? He made himself readily available to your every whim and desire, never rejected you when you sought physical comfort from him despite quite obviously denying it to everyone else. Had you truly not noticed and understood you were everything to him? He quite literally couldn’t live without you.

“Truthfully? I care little for the tinsel and lights and all of the frivolity this holiday gives humans an excuse for, but I care for your enjoyment of it. This is important to you, and if I have not made it abundantly clear by now you are important to me.” Demetri said, moving the package from your grip so he could take your hands and squeeze them lightly.

“But-“

“But nothing, Y/N. I have known since the day I was forced to change you there was only one person meant for me. I would rather endure the change for the rest of eternity, drown over and over in the deepest and darkest parts of the ocean, have the devil himself rip whatever is left of my soul in two, than spend a day without my mate,” He swore, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, “It may not beat, but if you will accept it, this heart is yours and yours only.” A small squeak of surprise escaped you and you almost seemed to flounder for a moment, clearly shocked by the bold declaration. He had said nothing he didn’t know deep in his heart to be true, and surrounded by the glow of Christmas lights, nestled in his arms beneath the mistletoe, you answered him the only way you knew how.

So long as you kept up a tradition of kissing him like this, Demetri could get used to celebrating Christmas.

[jippy-kandi]

Digimon Adventure: 2020 – Episode 32: Soaring Hope (Review)

Thoughts on the thirty-second episode of the Digimon Adventure reboot series.

Well, what a surprise! This was actually a pretty good episode.

The sound of Patamon running is so cute. And how he just plops over from exhaustion. XD; He actually might be my favourite Digimon in the reboot, lol.

Sora and Taichi came to the rescue in a pretty dynamic way! I loved it. The episode opened so great and got my attention right away. :D

YAMATO!!! I’m so happy to see you. :D Yamato: “I see, so you were able to join them. Were you hurt, Takeru?” Takeru: “I’m fine, but Patamon’s . . .” Agumon: “Patamon looks in pain.” Piyomon: “What’s wrong?” Taichi: “It’s probably the damage from fighting DarkKnightmon.” Yamato: “Takeru. I’m sure Patamon will get well soon. Until then, you stay by Patamon’s side.” Takeru: “Yeah! I will, Big Brother!” Yamato: “Taichi, I leave Takeru to you.” Now, on paper, this exchange seems good . . . but Yamato’s voice actor sounds really “off”? He honestly sounds like he doesn’t care about Takeru, LOL. Which is certainly a change from OG Yamato - who would be losing his damn shit right now. XD; I’m not sure if there’s “more to the story” and Yamato sounds “distracted” (more like disinterested, LOL) for a reason and we’ll find out later? Or this was a weird performance from the voice actor. Or the series really is making Yamato less of an overprotective brother. But it was really odd to me.

LMAO Mimi started a Digimon fight club!? XD; But OG Mimi was such a pacifist. XD;

Jou . . . is still just a joke and the series honestly thinks it’s doing him favours? Sigh. I really don’t like him.

Koushirou tags in to remind us all that he’s still just an info-dump bot. And he’s still going on about a threat that no one (us) cares about. Yawn. This better lead somewhere (to actual on-screen relevance/impact) . . .

LMAO Master Jedi Lopmon astral projects himself into Patamon’s dreams - Oh hello! I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon. I really liked the whole sequence, though. Nicely done.

Why are Taichi and Sora peeking in on Takeru and Patamon? lol. Did they really need privacy here? How respectful of them - except not, because they’re still peeking in. XD;

Takeru and Patamon’s exchange ending with Takeru telling Patamon that he’ll always be by his side was super cute. I loved the story he shared about Yamato helping him swim. This is actually the material we love and need - and not Taichi fighting enemy #7872. Please, Toei, realise this? This is what keeps people engaged and interested in the story and its characters.

Forget the puny Fangmons, Cerberumon is a beast! He looks like a better, cooler, more awesome version of Garurumon! I wouldn’t mind if Yamato had him as his partner Digimon, haha. XD

The series has shown us that Agumon is able to Mega evolve at very little cost - and at pretty short intervals. Why doesn’t he just do so against an Ultimate Digimon? Is a non-Mega not worthy enough for him to Mega evolve against? XD; I know, I know, plot. But this is an issue I have with the series. It doesn’t do a good job at handling Digimon levels and threat levels in general. Everything just comes down to plot convenience in a lazy way. And yes, I’m complaining too much, so I’ll stop. XD;

MY POOR BABY SORA! They always take her out. :( Well, I just remember her frozen leg, lol. But of course she looks like she’s seriously injured, while Taichi also gets hit, falls, but still manages to have enough strength to hang onto the side. Yeah. He’s fucking Superman.

Awww, I really liked Patamon remembering his past and how much Takeru means to him. It was great. The Takeru/Patamon stuff this episode is A+ material.

But Pegasusmon was totally unexpected to me! I had a bit of a “jump the shark” feeling because of how much I didn’t think that could happen. XD; But it’s cool, I liked it. Rodeo Gallop totally should have killed Takeru or at least make him dizzy, though. XD;

Next episode preview: We’re going back to The Taichi Show? -_-; The main focus better be Hikari, though!

I enjoyed this episode a lot more than the last several episodes. It’s amazing how interesting the show is when it’s not just The Taichi Show (centered around a dull, generic, action hero protag). I’ve even accepted Takeru’s heightened courage and I’ve gone back to thinking he’s a cutie and liking him again. :P His bond with Patamon is really endearing. The flying pig is just too cute for words.

I know next episode “looks” like it should mostly be about Hikari, but as Taichi’s involved . . . I am prepared to go back to The Taichi Show again. Sigh. Please hurry up and reunite all the kids again, Toei. My interest can only wane so low.

[lindwyrmrelinquished]

So....what are some of your headcanons for Ranbutler?

OHHHHHHHHHH BUDDY, YOU ARE OPENING YOURSELF TO A WHOLE NEW CAN'O'BEANS HERE

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL-

(everything else under the cut because there is a L O T )

Butler's human form is predominant(which unfortunately means he does not have a tail :(), but he can make Ender noises/speak Galactic. He's got a bunch of stims and tics, and making the Ender noises is one of them! He often makes them to fill the silence, or in times of high emotion(positive or negative. just imagine a Butler bouncing on his toes while excited Ender chirps keep coming out of his mouth, or he's rambling about something and half of it is layered with Galactic). Following from that, Butler has something that Billiam calls the "monochrome form". If he's under high levels of stress, whatever dark tint of color is in his right side will start spiking into the left side, making his skin darker(and, if he has enough color in his skin from NOT FUCKING OVERWORKING HIMSELF, it can get dark enough to blend into shadows) and spreading from the little black scales on his neck and cheeks and hands(which are already claws, that's why he wears gloves), and if he's really stressed/pissed, little horns are gonna start poking out of his skull and he's gonna be completely gray/black, his teeth are already deadly but they're gonna get sharper and if you look him in the eyes he will s c r e a m and very likely tear you apart if Billiam isn't there to hold him back/calm him down.

Speaking of! Butler very much dislikes eye contact. It makes them extremely uncomfortable and the Ender part is gonna start screaming to attack attack attack and the pupil-slit thing is gonna happen. Unfortunately, he's frozen by the eye contact and cannot move of his own free will, it's all going to be instinct to either get away or attack, if he moves at all. And the moment the eye contact is broken, he starts to calm down and all the screaming in his head starts to dissipate, so he doesn't really get the chance to consciously act on the Ender side's instinct.

NEXT OF ALL, throwing canon out the window and saying BILLIAM AND BUTLER ARE FOUND-FAMILY. The way they acted in the episode is just that, an act. In reality, they actually Care each other Very Very Much and have adopted each other into their respective hybrid groups(i.e Endermen have their hauntings, Piglins have their sounders{that part's not canon to mc but i yoinked it from a fic}). Hubert jokes about how Billiam accidentally adopted Bu as his son, but both Bu and Bi deny this. Hubert also got Liaria and James in on the joke and now these two are being constantly triple-teamed.

ON THAT NOTE Liaria and James know about the Egg. It happened at the tail end of Bu's first masquerade when they started accusing Billiam of committing all the murders, and Bu kind of panicked and outed himself as the killer, he pulled out the knife and everything. Billiam admitted that he knew about this, and showed them the Egg as explanation. Now Liaria and James willingly give up their bought lives to the Egg on the regular(we might get into the lives thing later{it was also something i yoinked from a fic, and then I gave it more explanation}) to keep Billiam and his family alive, but they're not all that affected by it due to not even being near it half the time.

AND ON THAT NOTE, let's talk about Butler's relationship with the Egg! Bad. It's bad. Absolutely terrible, the two despise each other immensely. I like to say they're the closest thing to caliginous that a teenaged hybrid that lived off spite and an ancient crimson demon can be. The Egg's hurt Bu a lot, and honestly that's part of the reason his contempt and fear for it is so high. But that's also part of the reason why Billiam was pulled out of its influence despite living right above it. Because he cares for Bu, a literal child that's suffered severe mental and physical trauma at the hands(well, vines) of the Egg. Honestly? Billiam wouldn't be the way he is now if he didn't have to take trips to the Nether. Short explanation, too much time away from their home realm gets hybrids really really sick. So, about a few months or so after Bu arrived, he had to yeet back there for a week and just told Butler and Hubert to take care of the mansion. And you know what Hubert did, that bitch? He took advantage of both Billiam's absence and Butler's skill and pampered himself while throwing the entire load onto the child. And then like halfway through the week, he got the idea to introduce said child to the Egg, who before then has had no idea it ever existed aside from the crimson red aura around the mansion(it's a whole thing about Endermen and magic but again, another thing I might get into later). He hadn't even attended a party before then. So, yeah, Hubert just left him down in one of the old cells for three days. Didn't even check on him, that bitch. And then when Billiam game back, suffice to say he was PISSED. He may be a rich bastard who causes murders biweekly, but even he has standards, and hurting a damn 7-8 year old child that bad was not one of them. he can't be held responsible for child labor, bu followed him home by his own choice. again, another whole backstory thing

Bu's genderfluid! He usually switches between he/him and they/them, and the direction he nods is a little indicator of which one(up for gender, down for no), but sometimes he uses she/her. Adding on that, due to Weird Enderman Genetics, he can manipulate his hair to grow real fast and likes to experiment with it in the mornings for Maximum Gender Euphoria This means that one day his hair could be barely touching his neck, and the next it's all the way down to his waist. It's a fun little anomaly and sometimes Billiam likes to play with it when it gets longer :3 travelling on the lgbt train, Bu is also ace/aro! This doesn't have much impact story-wise(usually), but it's just a fun little tidbit :3 On other, more Ender notes, he has pretty much all the traits an Enderman does, even if he looks fully human aside from being 6 inches taller than Sir Billiam himself. With the eye-contact thing, I've got a headcanon that Endermen can kind of read minds to an extent if they look into another entity's eyes, but it gets loud and borderline painful if anything but another Enderman does the same. Meanwhile, Bu's about the perfect mix of an Enderman and a Human(later called Players and Villagers depending on their capabilities) to be able to take at least a few seconds of eye contact. He can also teleport! To about the same extent as Endermen, if not a little less. Unfortunately, spending too much time in the void between teleportations(i.e a few hours for him, though an hour in the void is a minute in reality. It's why teleporting happens in the blink of an eye to anyone but the user) has some adverse effects. Bu's either glitched, gotten some sort of void-sickness like a flu but worse, and/or lost large chunks of memory each of the separate times he stuck himself in there for too long. Pure-blooded Endermen have a longer tolerance, but even they can succumb to the void with enough time.

Bu's also hurt by water, and the first time Billiam really figured this out is when he dragged him to the roof because it was raining and for some reason, Bi really likes the rain. Bu, on the other hand, was hospitalized for a day once Billiam actually realized, "oh, he's burning" Unfortunately, Bu can still produce tears, so he's got some scars on his cheeks and hands from those, Luckily, though! Billiam got him some gloves and a facemask reminiscent of cc!Ranboo to hide those scars because bu's. really self-conscious about them :,D

But also he's got TOE BEANS,

[ahem] So Endermen are basically giant block-holding teleporting cats and no one can convince me very much otherwise. So on the one hand, they have giant hands shaped for holding blocks. On the other hand, T O E B E A N S

So Bu's got beans on the pads of his fingers and feet(which also end in claws with a black gradient because Peak Character Design <3). Billiam likes to hold his hands on the rare occasion he doesn't wear his gloves because mans likes to stim with those toe beans. Meanwhile Billiam himself has nicely-textured hands because of his Piglin hooves and Bu also likes to stim with them, so just. them holding each others hands for mutual stimmage

[ahem] anyway

Bu stims!! He flaps his hands and does thing really rapidly and harshly when he's really high-strung, which doesn't happen often, at least in front of people. Boy's got anxiety so he's had his fair share of panic attacks :,D he just knows how to disguise them so people don't see, but Billiam knows the signs at this point. But he also has a lot of vocal stims/tics, mainly lots of Enderman noises, some popping and a little screechy thing here and there. Sometimes he picks up a sound and then repeats it a whole bunch because it feels nice on the tongue :] there's also these poofs of particles that happen when he's happy, they look like mini purple fireworks and they're like an expulsion of magic, he can feel when they happen and it feels nice :]

(cw for self-harm in this paragraph and the followed copy-pasted convo)

[ahemhemhem] So y'know how Butler's an Ender-hybrid? His hands and feet reflect that(along with the ears, the eyes, the height, the abilities, but we're talking about about the hands here). Part of why he keeps those gloves on almost 24/7 is to dull his claws, which are not so much an intentional danger to others rather than an unintentional danger to himself. He's got tics and stims and is very neurodivergent and has anxiety(me projecting? noooo /hj), so he gets very nervous very easily. And one of his nervous habits rather than wringing his hands, fidgeting, and (if really bad)a heightened amount of tics, he tends to scratch at his arms. His claws can tear through the fabric easily, and more than one or two suits have been sent back to the tailors for repairs to the sleeves. However, having both padded sleeves and padded gloves nullifies that, so he always wears them special-made. If he didn't have that habit, he likely wouldn't have the gloves on as often as he does.

Friend Hey good headcanons 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 Also ohhhh my god Billiam fussing over him and his gloves until he gets them to be the right amount of padded where Bu can still do things but also not hurt himself

Me gbfhdgbhgsfhbgsfdhdf He keeps examining them every time the tailors try but it doesn't feel right until That Specific Try so he just plops the gloves back on the counter and says "Do it again"

Friend They spend an entire day doing nothing but making gloves while Billiam & Hubert take turns watching Butler to make sure he stays safe

Me Absolutely Problem is Butler can feel eyes on him. And eyes make him nervous :,) so when he gets nervous. he starts to scratch at his arms again and anxiety is too much for him to ask them to stop watching him

Friend It ends up with them just having to hold his hands, looking at random things (they can go sit on the balcony or something so they have something pretty to look at)

Me That hold on actually that's adorable-

Friend Fhhdjdjdjsjsj they're friends your honor

Me Absolutely Even Hubert contributes to keeping him safe. And Hubert's afraid of even being near Butler

Friend And then we get bonding via the oh no Billiam is busy and Hubert has to take care of Bu for the next 3 hours

Me GHDSFGSHFGS THAT IS A GREAT IDEA Butler insists he can do everything himself, nothing's different about the routine, and then he has a mental breakdown when he tries to make food without anyone else in the kitchen- Cause usually Hubert's there, even if he's making something else. There's at least another presence, and that's the sort of thing that's calming for Bu. But Hubert's off setting up the table for lunch/dinner or something and Butler makes One minor slip-up and spirals from there until he's struggling even handling spice mixing The same thing happened with cookies one time, and both times Hubert found him borderline unable to function because he panicked too much and helped him out of it.

Friend Butler is just curled up in the kitchen, trying to have a quiet panic attack because he can't cause the others any more trouble than he already is, and Hubert is very quietly upset about helping him because he was doing so good at avoiding Bu but here he is again being the only thing that's letting this kid breathe

Me Absolutely

Friend Do you think Bu passes out on him? Like Hubert (probably reluctantly) gives Butler a hug cause those help, and Bu was just supposed to stay there until he felt better, but panic attacks are exhausting and he fell asleep at some point-

Me Oh my gods he would though, especially with the amount of sleep he gets He'd have to try so hard to even stay conscious, much less do things in the manner he usually does, and Hubert just quietly tells him that it's okay to sleep; he'll take care of everything. Hu never forgets that of course Bu's always in danger around him - he has fleeting thoughts and quite often knows how to act on them - but he stands up holding an exhausted child and takes him to his room so he can rest. Butler may want him to stay; Endermen usually want someone around when sleeping. It's the security of having someone watch for nightmares, but Hubert doesn't stay. He has to go back to the kitchen and finish that meal Bu was making. But if he's still asleep by the time Hu's done with everything, he might linger outside his door, listening in for anything bad.

(Okay the cw is over now, you may now go back to your regularly scheduled content :,D)

Also, one last thing: Billiam gives Butler a bunch of gold things(including the masquerade mask) because that's what Piglins do with their sounders, they cover them in gold to show they care. And after Bu finding out the reason why Billiam's been handing off a bunch of gold things to him he does not cry, because that would hurt his face, but he does feel quite a lot of things that make him want to because holy shit Billiam feels the same

Butler is Billiam's sounder and Billiam is Butler's haunting, they are family your honor

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Comms are down and 141 had no way of determining when extraction will arrive. While the team is defending the base, Alex is tasked to protect our HVIs. Can he handle the responsibility from pure initiative alone?

Previous Chapter : Uninvited Guests

Alex and Augustus

Alex

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 - Secret Bunker

The ground shook as the three of them looked up at the ceiling, Samantha gripped her hand tightly against his, signaling her fear towards the situation. Maxine hugged Samantha while they both whimpered.

"We'll make it out of here. Trust their abilities." he told them and they nodded. Samantha's face looked hopeful and the feeling was nostalgic when their hands met once again. Even the urgency of the situation was familiar.

They had a small talk earlier, saying she wanted to know what happened to them. Alex felt excited, but debated whether it's okay for him to do so, but her eagerness was too powerful to resist. And it's going to be a win for him anyway. 

He smiled at her for being so brave about all this, but their moment was cut off as soon as static rang on his ears.

"Shit. Our comms are down. We'll have to wait for the plane by sight." he muttered and commanded the two girls to follow behind him as they cross a hidden tunnel which led straight to the forest near the secondary LZ

The tunnel was dim and cold. Alex told the two that this tunnel ran below the river to the forest. His words effortlessly echoed across the dark cylindrical passageway as the three made their way across, ears popping as they descended to extraction.

Alex gave Samantha a pistol and told her to watch their back as he climbed the ladder to the exit. Alex's fists pushed the heavy metal door open and repeatedly slammed his hands until it opened. Samantha on the other hand held the pistol forward, pointing it at the dimly lit abyss hoping no one was actually out to get them.

A small ray of sunshine peeked through the opening Alex's slams made and with one final grunt, the metallic door flew up, opening their access to the exit. Alex reached for his hand and grabbed Maxine's, wincing in pain as she held it tight. Next came Samantha and he endured the pain of his now bleeding knuckles as they ran through the LZ.

Alex reached out his hand and Samantha gave her his gun, smiling at her gesture and she smiled back. These were trying times but the reunited couple's hearts were already yearning for each other. It almost felt like she didn't forget about him, even if they still had a lot of memories to recall.

Dark smoke trailed from beyond the valley, from what it looked like, a huge aircraft must've crashed. That means Augustus may be one step ahead of them.

The open plain by the river felt peaceful, until enemies popped up from the trees and encircled the trio as Augustus pointed the gun at them.

"Drop the gun, put your hands up and give us the girl." He ordered, his thumbs clicked the pistol, threatening Alex that he's not going to let this opportunity slip away. Alex backed up a little but they were already encircled by Augustus' men.

"You're not obeying?" he switched his target toward Maxine, grinning as Alex immediately followed.

"Oh… There we go… Willing to risk your life but also willing to give it up for others… How heroic." He mused, circling around them while Alex spread his arms wide, hiding the two behind his arms.

Augustus' grin made Alex's teeth clench. His square shaped face matched the way his blonde flat top haircut and his left eye was purely white, like it got itself in a blinding accident.

"Push her over or I'll shoot this small one!" he roared, he was getting impatient. Their helicopter started to descend and Samantha had to slowly walk towards it. Alex nodded and frowned, they just met and they're going to be separated all over again. But this time, he's determined that it won't happen again.

Maxine's head had a pistol pointed at it while eight armed soldiers targeted their rifles to Alex. Samantha was already sobbing as she slowly stepped to the whirring helicopter.

Alex's eyes met hers and felt a sudden jolt of emotion as tears started to fall out to her cheeks. It felt sad but Alex gave her a hopeful look. She's going to be fine. We won't be separated. I won't allow it.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a flaming missile head straight toward the helicopter causing it to explode. Everyone dropped to the ground on impact while Alex, who saw it coming, quickly got up and pulled the two girls to safety, using his metal legs to effortlessly support their staggered movement.

It didn't take too long for the adversaries to recover. Half of Augustus' me  fired at the base as snipers assisted Alex. They could freely fire now that Augustus no longer pointed their weapon towards the HVIs. 

Alex turned back to see Augustus and two men started to fire bullets toward them. They had to go to the forest, and take advantage of the natural covers known as trees.

Alex didn't know where they were headed but as long as they can't hear something behind them, it was cool. After running aimlessly for a long time, he felt his energy fall and they quickly set camp behind a huge rock, which almost looked like a cave.

"You two okay?" he asked. Samantha whimpered and showed him their burn marks, she was the closest one to the plane and so that explains the redness on her arms.

Alex quickly took off his shirt and ripped it off to create a makeshift bandage while Maxine assisted him as he tied it tight.

"There. It shouldn't hurt as long as you don't bump it onto something." he gently pulled the ends, securing the bandage.

"Thanks, Alex." She breathed, she looked very afraid but was holding on quite well. She had Alex by her side and he's always ready to protect her. Something she assumed that happened back in California.

Maxine held Samantha's hand and smiled while Alex took a quick peek of their location and Augustus' whereabouts.

"Stay here. Don't make any noise." he hushed and left their cave, looking at the two huddled together fighting through the trauma.

Alex was right, he was already nearby. Good thing he decided to leave them as he attempted to stray Augustus away from the girls' location.

His metal leg thumped on the ground loud enough that he realized he's already being chased by gunfire. A single gunfire, he noted. It's only Augustus inside the forest.

His bare back sticked against the rough bark of the tree as he heightened his senses and waited for Augustus. His heavy footsteps drew closer and Alex inhaled deeply as he kicked the tough guy with his metal leg. The pistol flew into the unknown and it suddenly became a fair fight. Fist to fist, just like the old times.

Augustus was quick to recover, heaving as his breathing slowly recovered. Posing his body like a boxer.

"Where is the code?" he grunted, creeping closer toward him.

"Fuck off." Alex spat as Augustus charged full force. He was notably bigger and taller, so charging back would be stupid, so he instead used his quick reaction time to dodge last minute and stomp him as soon as he passes through. 

He stepped on him as soon as he fell, pressing the ground deeper to deal him damage. Augustus still had the strength to use his arms and toss his metal leg back, sending Alex flying a few meters back. He felt the cold soil rub against his back as he struggled to get back up.

They clashed once again, this time fists were flying over their heads and the both of them neither gave up, punches were evaded and they exchanged a lot. When Alex started using his feet, he got the upper hand but a slight error made Augustus catch his foot and flip him to the ground.

Augustus sat on Alex and blew heavy punches on his face. Alex felt the pain and his hand gripped Augustus'  when he tried to choke him for information.

"Where are they?!" he asked, Alex thought it was stupid. How could he say words when he's restricting his airflow. His actions didn't make sense.

"Woo…" Alex wheezed. He couldn't say a word and his vision almost dimmed as he gasped for air. The adversary was convinced Alex would talk so he loosens his grip making the 141 agent cough out and breath heavily.

"They're…" 

"Out…."

"There…" Alex pointed at a random direction as he looked at Augustus, who followed where his fingers pointed, then he quickly poked his eye causing him to fall flat on the ground. He was finally free from his heavy body.

Augustus rolled as his hands held his eyes, cursing while enduring the pain. He took this opportunity to disarm Augustus before he could recover.

"A burner phone." he muttered, tasting iron as he spoke.

"Give me that!" he slowly got up, his eyes still closed. Alex couldn't afford losing a clue, so he did what he had to do. Using his reinforced leg, he kicked the bad guy back and stomped on him, he stomped him enough that he would take long to recover. 

He sighed. He wished that the phone contained a step closer to Nero as he limped back to Samantha's direction. His face ached like hell and his injuries affected how much he could see. But despite all this, Alex focused his mind. He promised he won't let them get Samantha. He won against Augustus but he wasn't satisfied until he saw Samantha's face. Her face that made him admire her the moment they met.

"Alex!" Samantha hushed as they both slowly walked to his direction, assisting him.

"Samantha, Maxine." he coughed, his voice still hoarse from all the choking.

"What happened?!" Maxine asked, carefully placing an arm over her shoulder while Samantha held on the other one. 

"You're saved. That's all that matters." he coughed as his vision blurred. He felt the two pick up their pace and heard the 141s hurried footsteps and Price's orders. They made it out and Alex was happy they did.

Alex slept through the aftermath of the invasion, recovering from his bruises and injuries but he knew full well what's going to happen. For starters, Augustus will be interrogated, about Nero, about Germany and about the EMP. He's the key to ending this war. Second, 141 would have to relocate, and that meant a long discussion with the General and the higher ups who created the force. This would take time for Nero to fully recover his forces and if ever Soap is still alive, he's going to be in grave danger.

Next Chapter : Meet me halfway

Notification Squad my beloved

@smokeywhalee @beemybee @whimsywispsblog @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @ricinbach

[luque-moreau]

y'know i think its about time ive refurbished my psychonauts headcanons/theories

what??? me??? rewriting my psychonauts headcanons in a more comprehensible and informed way???

ye

alright, i think everyone knows what im talking about, by headcanons i mean headcanon as in singular, and as singular, i mean my "raz is somewhere on the spectrum of adhd".

so lets just get into it:

what is adhd actually?

adhd by definition stands for attention deficit hyperactive/hyperfocus disorder (yes, let me get into the details in just a sec). it is a nerodevelopmental disorder that is almost completely reliant on genetic factors, however conditions during pregnancy can sometimes contribute to certain aspects of how adhd manifests itself.

long story short, people with adhd have a smaller frontal lobe, and therefore less dopamine in general (even though yes, it is more complicated than that).

theres also a little bit of "chicken or the egg first" goin on here, certain behaviors or personality tendencies can also affect how adhd is presented in one individual to the next, however its still not clear if that is because it is an accommodating for a certain thought process or if someones experiences and personality shape their symptoms of adhd entirely. its a very blurry line, and the answer is different for everybody.

hyperactive type

hyperactive type is probably the closest to most stereotypical depictions of adhd, think the 5 year old whos parents brush off their child’s hyperactivity as something that will “go with age”. however, this isn’t only present in children, adults with adhd have to deal with a constant need for stimuli to make up for the lack of dopamine their current activity is providing them. this results in someone fidgeting frequently in repetitive or predictable motions, unable to hold attention to a specific task for long periods of time, or many other of the symptoms associated with adhd.(i sadly cannot provide more information in this area, i am not knowledgeable enough to...)

hyperfocus type

hyperfocus type is a tricky one, it can look like the complete opposite of adhd in theory. hyperfocus can look similar to special interests or hyperfixation, a great deal of time and knowledge dedicated to a very particular thing (although it is important to note that even though hyperfixations and special interests are incredibly similar, special interests is a term more typically used within autistic-circles, and isnt really the best word to use if you happen to be neurotypical). Think of maybe that kid who knows all the cool animal facts and won’t shut up about them. Its because certain trains of thought or activities might release more dopamine then others, so to get more of that dopamine, someone of hyperfocus type will be mentally unable to stop thinking or doing a very specific task or topic. this results in someone seemingly always spacing out, unable to change subjects or changing subjects too fast or with little to no correlation, or being completely unable to have enough motivation to do simple things.

personally i tend to fall under the category of hyperfocus myself rather than hyperactive, however the two are not mutually exclusive, its more common to find people with both types rather than just one. even myself, i might exhibit more tendencies to place me under the label of hyperfocus, but that doesn’t mean i don’t have any symptoms of the hyperactive type. its my personality that affects my mannerisms, which then makes certain aspects of my symptoms more or less apparent. Thats because im an INTP-T, i just tend to be more to myself and constantly in a state of thinking abstractly. I have trouble communicating and even sometimes recognizing my needs, and get to a point where im unable to do the simplest of things without feeling emotionally drained. Thats just my experience though, everybodys different. 

so what the fuck does this have to do with raz then?

well lets think about it, rather than have it just be me projecting myself onto a comfort character:

raz finds issue with connecting to kids his age

lets be honest. none of the campers really like raz that much. or at least some do the bare minimum to be try and be polite. it doesn’t seem like any of the other campers besides dogen, whos also socially outcasted, are really fond of raz. lili might like him, but that can definitely be interpreted as curiosity in someone new and different from the norm. It might not be that the kids despise him, but nobodys opinionated enough to care whether he is around or not.

social isolation is one of the most damning things i had to experience from an early age and still feel even today. there is a sense of feeling that you are different among your peers, whether that is a good thing or bad thing. it feels difficult to interact with other people you are not familiar with, and can really stunt you emotionally and socially. from a really early age, theres somethin in you that knows something is very different between the experiences of your peers compared to your own, and it can feel incredibly isolating.

raz and his borderline stupidity

time to get real again. raz is a fucking idiot. at least in the sense that sometimes his decisions seem incredibly spontaneous and not really thought through. he runs from home to attend a summer camp, not really thinking about the logistics of how he will get there, how the staff will react, how long its gonna take for his parent to find him, and so on. it doesn’t seem like he over or underestimates his abilities, he just goes for it without considering. that doesnt seem like the smartest thing to do, even though we know hes incredibly intelligent when it comes to larger, abstract situations. its the little details that he misses, small minuet things that seem unimportant that he overlooks, which can sometimes make things harder for him in the end.

i think its obvious that impulsivity is one symptom of adhd. however i cannot stress how difficult it is to think at supersonic speed and still feel incredibly stupid. i mean, thinking faster doesn’t inherently mean you will have better ideas, you can always be stupider faster, but being able to realize stupid mistakes or inconsistencies in your own thought process is annoying as hell. it feels like every time you try to recognize the issue, fix it, and move forward, you only end up not paying attention to another issue that gets bigger and more annoying than the first. Its always two steps forward, one step back, constantly making the same mistakes even though you try everything in your power to avoid them or grow as a person. The simplest of facts, ideas, or just things to remember end up being forgotten, and once youre reminded of them you remember them and feel like an idiot. however, arbitrary things and complex issues are much easier to digest and remember for me, things like history and the whole blame game charade of it all, biology and how every minuet thing has a greater impact on others and intertwines with every single factor of its environment, philosophy and theorizing why we think the way we do and what can be changed. but oh shit, im a dumbass i forgot to do my laundry. shit. god fuckin dammit.

empathy over sympathy

one of the basic themes of psychonauts is empathy. simple as that. raz goes around into other peoples brains, and tries to help them as much as he can, even if his efforts are not always successful in the way he intended. he never demonizes anyone to the point of unredeemability, and can empathize and understand other peoples perspectives. hes open to new ideas and

although some studies out there theorize that empathy is impaired due to adhd, from my perspective i feel like that is simply not true. if anything, i would say the sensitivity that comes with adhd (hypersensitivity) only enhances that empathy. i could definitely see social disconnection being one of the reasons it might appear that someone with adhd is less empathetic, however i would doubt that adhd would impair a persons empathy. adhd tends to also entail heightened emotions, this doesn’t necessarily mean a more outwardly emotional person, however it definitely shifts a persons perspective of their own emotions as well as others. the concept of hypersensitivity also completely contradicts the idea of people with adhd be less empathetic.

miscommunication and disconnect

sigh, the dad thing. yup. raz has that very iffy relationship with his dad at the beginning of the game which is eventually resolved. very abruptly, might i add. but thats not what this is about, thats a topic for another day. miscommunication seemed to be the root of the issue, however we only get razs side of the story. not to mention the severity of his claims and willingness to seemingly drop everything afterwards. kinda sus, ngl.

alright this ones a doosey. this, i feel, cements my theory pretty well. like i mentioned before, social disconnect and hypersensitivity are side effects of the symptoms of adhd.  this means people with adhd are highly more likely to either misinterpret someones words or actions if those in question are not completely transparent, its because they tend to overthink and interpenetrate responses with too much thinkin n such. the social disconnect makes a whole lot of it worse, it can just pile on top of already established feelings of inadequacy and isolation. and oversharing as a poor coping mechanism isnt an exclusively adhd related thing, it tends to be shared within similar neruodevelopmental disorders such as autism or even ptsd. i find it incredibly easy to disconnect myself from my own emotions at times and think critically at what i feel and how it affects me. which is a bad thing. if i dont acknowledge my emotions like they are my own for too long, everything falls apart. its not fun. but, that disconnect can make talking about certain more traumatic experiences or instances that had deep personal effects on my life and development as a person much easier to just share. and not always in an appropriate manner, comedic opportunity can be   v  e  r  y   enticing. this also explains why raz might have been able to drop everything about his dad after he apologized. he didn’t really, he probably still suffers just as much afterwards as he did before. but he probably wont realize that for awhile, since logically, the issue has been resolved. long story short, he has not had the time to cope, and to put that off he detaches himself from those feelings. w a c k

of course i have other reasons why i feel like raz could potentially have adhd, or at least be accurately represented in headcanon with adhd, some minor mentions being:

he uses his camp map as a journal to track his in-game progress, list of goals, and notes/snip-its of information. writing down information on some form of notepad or book is a common tool used by kids and even adults with adhd to help them keep track of minuet, individual tasks. its just using a planner, but with a bit more information. 

just from my personal perspective, the lengths raz goes to pursue his dream of being a psychonaut feel more like a special interest/hyper fixation sort of thing. he can jump between having genuine conversations with his fellow campers and just exploring the campground, to investing himself entirely in obtaining his goal, even when it seems almost impossible. thats some serious dedication to one very specific thing, y’know?

this one isnt as solid as the other but: m̶̖̰̯̫̍͝o̵̦͖̟͈̹̤̥̝͐̿̄̀̀̎̓ņ̶̛̭̠̐̊̆̍͝ķ̸̝͈̺̙̰̊e̶͉͚̼̅̔͗̂͐̍̕͝͝y̶̦̖̼͖̪͎̝̖̠̐̑͋̾̔̑́͐͘ ̵̢̲̘͎͉̔̀͒̄͌͊̀͌̀m̴̲̫̮̪̖̍̐͆̕͜͝ͅả̶͙͚͗n̶̗̳̩̙̘̼̦̦͇͝ ̷̡̨̡͔̗͕̘͍̥̑͒̎̐̃g̴͔̔̈̅̐̏́̌̔̈́́o̶̥̱̽̆̂͌̀͗ ̶̝̩͙͕͛́s̴̛͓̥̲̜͓͚̣̠̆̓̌͌p̶̜̹̯̦̫̯̣̎͐̽̉̾ḙ̴͇̬͑̈́̐̈́͘͠ͅȅ̶̡̗̞̩͔̫̪͈͑̓͗d̵̠͇͎̜͔͇͒̈́́̀̅̈́̒͘y̸̡̦̠̻̖̥̿ͅ. yeah, its the most generalizing reason but look, hes moving nonstop the entire game, climbing and running around the entire goddamn place wrecking havoc. a bit of imp can be found in most people with adhd if you look hard enough.

so thanks for reading this far i guess? im oversharing even right now with this, like an i d i o t but yknow what i dont want to read the great gatsby rn, so ive got nothin better to do. who knows, maybe the second game will give us more info to either support/discredit this theory? gotta wait for pn2 i guess

:^)

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Word Prompt #14

Word: Octopus (suggested by @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt!) WIP: Thriving series CW: Oh, everything. Blood, tentacles, violence, fluids, guns. All of it. Word Count: 1,727 Additional Notes: I saw the word and I had to get weird. I could’ve gone completely normal and written a cute little light-AU fluff piece about Warren taking Thrive to an aquarium or seeing an octopus in the ocean on Earth but no. It’s fucking balls to the wall in the first half lmao.

Also it should be noted that I decided for no reason to set this in the timeline of Destiny. So Thrive and Warren are still just mutually pining at this point.

***

It hit them both at the same time. Thrive, repairing a form suit in the corner of the medical room, and Warren patching up a minor laceration on his thumb from an improperly handled utensil—they looked up in unison as a guttural scream made its way through every corridor of the L2 and into their ears.

“Oh, Christ,” Warren muttered. “If that’s an eliyi....”

“That was Armatax,” Thrive said, abandoning the form suit and striding out to the room.

Warren secured the bandage around his thumb and followed, anxiety already through the roof. “Whatever the hell could make Armatax scream like that is guaranteed to kill us and I’m just not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment right now, Thrive....”

They traced the continuing shouts to the loading bay, and when the door remained closed upon them arriving, his shoulders tensed. More screams joined in, this time from Sussa, and the struggle ramped itself up to max level. Weapons fire and brute-force physical assault from what sounded like multiple sources.

Thrive waved the door open and his arm shot out to keep Warren back as he himself had to reel away from the loading bay to process the sight.

An enormous creature with tentacles—normal tentacles, sans sharp blade bits, but what was “normal” when it came to tentacles, anyway?—and a bulbous orange head swiping at Armatax and Sussa, whipping an appendage around the nuaclan’s gun and tossing it through the open door. The capsule sat upended in the farthest corner, shattered electric panels sparking and smoking around it. Rubbery flesh slapping the floors, the walls, every surface it could reach. Low-hertz growling vibrating the air.

Warren waited for Thrive to say something, but he seemed to be stunned and confused into silence.

“We wouldn’t be completely upset if you decided to step in,” Sussa yelled, taking a running leap onto the squishy head of the octopus-creature. She socked it directly on of its several protruding eyeballs and three tentacles curled into his body, giving Armatax a chance to dive for cover. “This is kinda your fault, after all!”

Thrive threw a barrier in front of himself and Warren right as a tentacle snapped toward them, and the impact resulted in a wet squelch. Warren grimaced.

“How is this Thrive’s fault?” Warren shouted. “Where did this even come fro—oh what the fuck.”

Thrive had caught another tentacle in his hand and ripped it from the octopus’ body, sending a wave of thin blood over the entire floor. It sprayed everywhere, splashing clean white surfaces with surprising yolk-colored fluids and getting it all over Armatax and Sussa.

Warren watched Thrive hold the limb up and stare at it. “Look, I know I can contribute practically nothing to whatever ungodly abomination is happening right now, but you need to go in there and...oh no. No. No, no, no, no, no—”

He’d realized what was about to happen seconds before it did, and he turned toward the wall, covering his head with his arms right in time to avoid the amber light encapsulating Thrive and shifting his form. A thick tentacle wrapped itself around Warren’s torso and he glanced down to witness it stretching and tightening across his ribs.

“...Huh.”

Thrive lifted him off his feet and bowled him down the hall away from the loading bay.

Warren scrambled to his feet and sprinted for the door, running headlong into it when it slid closed and automatically locked. Warren pounded the metal with his fists. “That’s really not what I meant and I think you know that!”

A fist-sized dent punched its way into the door and Warren jumped back. He listened for a minute, heart pounding, more gunfire popping off. The unmistakable connecting of fists to octopus flesh, and octopus flesh to octopus flesh, and the smell of said flesh burning wafted into Warren’s face.

“This is gonna give me nightmares,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “If you open that door as an octopus I’m aiming this ship in the direction of Earth and shooting myself out of the airlock.”

The fight continued for possibly hours. Warren was about to attempt sliding the door open himself when it blasted off its track and sent him sliding down the length of the hall again. When he stopped spinning he kicked the door away from himself and looked at the loading bay.

The octopus was wedged in the doorway, tentacles lolling over the floor slickened with its own blood. Another tentacle slithered into view, getting a hold of the body and gently tugging it back into the room, succeeded by a spark of amber illuminating the space behind it.

Warren stayed put. “Guys....”

Sussa, still dripping with thin but oddly goopy blood, emerged from the room and wiped it from her eyes. Armatax followed, less drenched but with his feather-like hair flattened to his skull. He spun the barrel of his gun and tucked it back in its holster.

“We good?” Warren asked, standing once more. “Everyone okay?”

“Yes,” Thrive said, back in human form and moving around the downed octopus. He combed his fingers through his own hair to tame it, out of breath, form suit covered in patches of yellow. “Let’s talk.”

The four of them filtered into the conference room around the corner and Warren perched himself onto the table. Thrive entered last, locking the door behind him, then whirled around to aim narrowed eyes at Sussa.

“Explain.”

“I’m saying!” Warren interjected. “Are you telling me that he somehow smuggled a giant alien octopus onto the L2 without any of us knowing? Does that sound like him? I think I would’ve noticed considering....” Considering he’d been with Thrive practically every second of every day for the past few weeks, but he decided against mentioning that fact.

Sussa and Armatax exchanged grim expressions. “Do you recall going to Rotanga and bringing a small glass ball full of green water onboard a couple of weeks ago?” she asked Thrive, venom in her voice.

Warren’s face fell into instant regret, and he pressed his lips together into a line, turning a wide-eyed stare onto Thrive.

Thrive, on the other hand, refused to crack his stoic façade. “...Perhaps.”

“Do you happen to know what was in that small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga?”

Warren, who was with Thrive when he bought the small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga, determined his fingernails were suddenly much more fascinating than this conversation. “...Was it an egg—”

“It was an egg!” Sussa exclaimed. “A microscopic fertilized egg not from Rotanga at all, but from the Lagisa Faction of Holeph!”

“Their oceans are rife with dangerous deep-sea creatures,” Thrive helpfully supplied for Warren’s sake. “I suppose this was...a misjudgment on my part.”

“I’m a little concerned,” Sussa said, pinching the bridge of her nose, which squeaked as she touched it due to the sliminess. “This is not the kind of mistake I’m used to you making, Orthrive’poliea.”

Armatax gestured to him. “Told you. They are both dumb.”

“You’re normally very careful about what you keep around us and where everything comes from,” Sussa continued. “I don’t understand how something like this could’ve slipped past you. Can you walk me through your thought process when you were—”

Warren glanced once more at Thrive’s face, and though he remained the outward picture of calm and blank, he could see a swirl of confusion and shame in his eyes. He must’ve been keeping Sussa out of his head because she didn’t notice or mention this at all.

“It’s actually my fault,” Warren interrupted. “I liked the way the water looked in the glass so I kinda peer pressured him into buying it for me. I don’t think I gave him the chance to apply critical thinking.”

Sussa’s attention fell onto him. She paused for too long. “You didn’t let him do his job?”

Warren cleared his throat. “I take full responsibility. I’m sorry.”

He knew she didn’t buy it. But he didn’t know how to keep her from hearing his thoughts, so all he could do was go over the lyrics to one of his favorite songs over and over to prevent giving himself away.

The sharp stink of the room settled on them like a fog and Sussa waved her hands dismissively. “Look...I need to clean and sanitize myself for four hours so this subject is officially dropped for now.”

She and Armatax left Thrive and Warren alone.

“That was unnecessary,” Thrive said at length.

“Didn’t see you trying to stop me,” Warren shot, leaning back onto his hands.

Thrive strolled into the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You know the real reason this all happened, don’t you?”

Warren shrugged. “Because you made a very normal and natural error in judgment?”

“Yes.” Thrive stopped and turned to him. “Because my capacity for perception either heightens beyond what I ever could’ve imagined or seems to disappear entirely whenever I’m around you.”

Warren’s pulse quickened. “You gonna send me home for that?”

To his shock, Thrive smiled and glanced away. “No. And...perhaps I made another mistake in letting you take the fall for me again.”

“Well, you didn’t let me take the fall the first time. I did that very much on my own.” Warren watched him pace the room some more. “And I saw the embarrassment in your face. Sure, Sussa wasn’t exactly being harsh or even wrong, but I couldn’t let you take that from her.”

Thrive took a deep breath. “You’re often quite gifted at reading me.”

Warren allowed his response to hang in the air.

Almost as if noticing it for the first time, Thrive swept his fingers through a spot of octopus gunk on the stomach of his form suit. He paced back to the door. “I should rid myself of the evidence as well.”

“So you now have colossal alien octopus in the repertoire of forms you can take, huh,” Warren mused. “It’s just...gonna be like that for the rest of your life.”

“Apparently so. Not something I anticipated happening today.”

“What’re we gonna do with the dead one in the loading bay?”

“Ah,” Thrive chirped as he stepped over the threshold. “It’s not dead.”

The door swished shut on the color draining out of Warren’s face.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

So the majority of the shows I’ve seen lately can be charitably described as ‘light entertainment’, including the ones with dark elements or more weighty, ponderous plots. They might be entertaining or interesting, they just... don’t stand up to scrutiny. Turn your brain off because this isn’t that carefully or skilfully made and you’ll only be annoyed if you start thinking about it as a whole. Including the last couple 'tragic’ historical dramas I’ve watched, which were not effective tragedy for that very reason. If you’re going to kill off the main cast, you have to earn it, and overwhelmingly writers don’t. Anyway, I’ve been getting despondent about whether stories which actually hang together and form a coherent narrative unit with consistent themes are the exception rather than the rule.

(And I feel like that should be a pretty low standard to meet, it’s sort of Step 1 of ‘being a story’: be about something! Communicate something, no matter how basic it is. Dead simple stories with rock basic messages can be revelatory! Just do it well!)

I’ve seen very little genuinely focussed or meaningful storytelling in my ventures for what feels like a long time. Basically, I can kind of count on one hand the number of films or dramas or whathaveyou I’ve seen from the last few years where it felt like the filmmakers were in complete control of their story and everything in it was purposeful and intentional. Most things have felt slapdash or shallow or fleeting. Story elements and character choices come out of nowhere just to derail already concluded arcs and fill screen time with empty repetitious drama, not to serve a meaningful narrative purpose. I would be watching with zero confidence anything in particular was going anywhere or that the writers knew where that should be. It’s just throwing shit at the wall, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type writing all the time and it fucking shows.

But then I watched Money Flower.

Money Flower is different. Money Flower is towering head and shoulders above every modern drama I’ve ever seen. Titanically good writing which rises above its genre and makes conventions seem radically new and fresh not by reinventing them or deconstructing them, but by playing them straight, taking them seriously, and committing 1000%. This is all your familiar rich family tropes but with masterpiece execution, infused with consequence and meaning because they’re all driven by the psychology of complex three-dimensional characters. So many moving pieces and none of them are random or unmotivated. Just... GOOD WRITING. And I want to make the point that it is this wherein art lives. The difference between a rank Lifetime movie and Romeo and Juliet is not novelty or tropes or plot twists- it’s execution.

This show is such a perfect example that it is not ‘mere events’ (aka plot) or novelty or shock value or cool ideas which separates something brilliant and timeless from forgettable schlock; it is solely and entirely execution. It’s writing itself, if you know what I mean. You can describe many of Shakespeare’s tragedies and history plays as soap opera plots. What makes Macbeth a deathless masterwork and Death Wish Hollywood wank isn’t a fundamental difference in subject or genre. It’s Shakespeare’s characterisation and purposeful storytelling. It’s the poetry of the dialogue. It’s the craft of writing. Most of Shakespeare’s plots are based on existing stories or on historical events and that has never mattered because novelty is not an inherent good or of any inherent artistic value.

Like, this is the problem with storytelling right now blah blah GOT, shitty endings everywhere etc. because power over the audience (can’t let anyone guess the plot, looking ‘clever’ with meaningless callbacks) and novelty are valued over narrative structure or things making sense or emotional verisimilitude. We have so many writers thinking being ‘shocking’ is all it takes to be a genius. It’s easy to be shocking if your story makes no goddamn sense because things that don’t make sense are literally unpredictable. Not in a good way, though. A great twist or sudden swerve needs to be unexpected but inevitable in hindsight or it does not work. I should be able to rewatch your thing and think ‘oh, of course! you can see it was [x] all along!’

We have so many popular writers now who are so shallow they don’t think anything needs to make sense on a character or emotional level. They don’t think their story has to be about anything. Substance is irrelevant as long as the surface is flashy enough. That has no staying power, you can only watch it once and you will forget about it quickly.

However, if you have ever wanted to experience the constant heightened stakes and High Drama of a soap opera without being annoyed at how ridiculous it all is and while actually giving a shit about the characters because they feel like real human beings, if you’ve wanted to feel repercussions when characters make choices, and get the emotional payoff that is the entire point of drama- now you can. Watch Money Flower. And let me tell you, it is fucking riveting. This show is mostly made up of people sitting in rooms talking and yet it is heart-pounding excitement nearly every episode. It is profoundly traditional and by the book while being totally fresh. It’s the most engrossing and satisfying artistic experience I’ve had in a long time.

Like, THE TENSION, THE DRAMA, THE REVEALS!!! You can, in fact, spend most of 24+ hours on the edge of your seat about family problems and business mergers. It seems unlikely, but that is the power of this series, it creates insanely high stakes and mesmerising suspense out of the most commonplace ingredients. Familiar plot elements become brand new and surprising under the deftness and tightness of this narrative. The plot itself is certainly 100% melodrama but it never feels like a soap opera and is never ever soapy in in a pejorative sense because it handles its classic tropes with such maturity and nuance that it's like you've never seen them before. The writing is incredible.

It is on an entirely different level than the vast majority of dramas, with a total self-assurance that keeps the pacing relentless yet unhurried- taking its time to let the impact of events be felt, the narrative always knowing exactly where it’s going and how to get there. The characters are all multi-faceted and unpredictable without ever being incoherent, their motives and goals always being gradually uncovered in more detail that only makes the storytelling and characterisation even tighter, even richer. The twists and cliffhangers are always mind-blowing but always earned, never cheap or nonsensical, and I can't remember ever thinking that about another show. (There’s literally one exception towards the very end where something a bit random happens for reasons of pure symbolism- it’s a misstep imo but it’s minor in the scheme of things)

Every time I started to doubt the writing, started to think ‘oh no, they’re going off the rails’, they showed me I was wrong and they were in total control. The only 'problem' with the show is that the drama is also profoundly painful to watch unfold, particularly in the beginning, because it's a story where everyone makes terrible life choices and moral corruption is everywhere. It's hypnotic though, like a car crash. If you can handle something dark, insidious, cerebral, and character-driven there is nothing I've seen in the same vein that can approach its brilliance. It’s like The Magnificent Ambersons as a slick modern revenge drama. There is also (PRECIOUSLY!!) a core of stunning romanticism around which all the horrors revolve and that saves it from becoming hideous or cynical. There is a chance for redemption and a new beginning after all, in spite of all appearances.

The ending has apparently been controversial, and it is definitely not quite as climatic as you would have expected given how powerfully climatic almost every regular episode is, but it's a good ending. There isn't full closure, they don't provide final resolution in a bow, but to me it's an ending about hope. It suggests optimism for our characters and I was satisfied with that. It's extremely rare for a 'revenge story’ to allow this kind of room for healing and it can do that because, imo, we discover in the end that it wasn't ultimately vengeance in Pil Joo’s heart. He has not become a tragic hero who will be consumed by the cannibalistic darkness of revenge, his quest was for justice. He teeters on the edge of the abyss but he avoided falling in; he didn't sell his soul, at least not irrevocably.

He is nonetheless a very tragic figure and an anti-hero, but despite having dedicated his life to bringing down the Jang cabal, it’s not that he’ll stop at nothing. He will make any personal sacrifice no matter how desolate, he lives as a mere husk of a man, and he facilitates enormous emotional harm to others in service of his goals, but he has ethical hard lines he never considers crossing. His sense of decency and compassion is never extinguished; he does care about the collateral damage he is causing even when making justifications for it. It’s important to him to give people as much agency as possible in their choices, to mitigate the damage done by his schemes as much as he can. To try to prevent harm coming to undeserving bystanders. Not that this makes it okay that he uses people, which he does, but the point is he never completely surrenders his moral compass to avarice. He’s never okay with burning down the world or ruining innocent lives just to get to his target.

Pil Joo is less a vigilante and more an avenging angel, he wants justice more than retribution. He wants fairness and a better, safer world where what has happened to his family won’t happen again. The reason this story never becomes Sweeney Todd (aka: a full on tragedy where we see the inevitable outcome of lust for revenge) and the reason he can survive twenty years spent pursuing someone’s downfall is exactly that principle. Searching for retribution would have destroyed him, he would have become the very thing he hated, but instead he goes as far as necessary to publicly expose the Jangs for what they are and then willingly submits to penance for his complicity in their crimes and tries to atone with the people he hurt along the way. Purged, he’s symbolically reborn and takes back his real name to maybe finally have a chance at the life he should have had. He moves on, content, a positive force. He’s capable of healing from the ordeal because he realises he doesn’t need retaliation, just seeing them stopped and facing consequences for their actions is enough.

The love story is a superbly poignant part of this. Their love is the ‘victim’ of his revenge and it will forever be impacted by it, but it’s not something that can be killed, so there’s still hope. Mo Hyeon’s bookending rescues of Pil Joo from death mean first that he has a purpose he must fulfil and then the second time that he has freedom to finally live as himself, for himself. There’s a future. And maybe they can be together there. I’m emo about it.

Anyway, if there was the slightest doubt about me becoming a long-term Jang Hyuk fangirl, it’s been put to rest. This performance is easily one of the best I’ve ever seen, period. No contest it’s the best I’ve seen in a tv drama. It’s also the most subtle and masterful turn he's delivered in his whole career. He's so restrained, but he is giving absolutely everything; he has total control over every microexpression, every gesture, every molecule in his body. There is so much simmering under his surface, so much going on in his eyes; the layers and depths are endless. The intensity and sharp intellectual focus he brings to the character is breathtaking. Everyone else is doing amazing work too, but he is almost constantly on screen and has this spectacular command of such a sprawling story, such a complex character, and he makes it look effortless. All artifice has melted away. The fact that being so tightly contained is in stark contrast to the bombastic element in many of his other roles renders its delicate precision even more startlingly impressive. I thought he was a great actor before, but I didn’t fully appreciate what he was capable of until Pil Joo.

[msbluebell]

Hey! How about a Captured AU where Byleth, before all this, had a thing with Dimitri and is pregnant by the time she is brought to Enbarr? 💔

Oh boy.

Oh boy.

This one is going to hurt, isn’t it? There’s no way it’s not. There’s no way not to hurt in this one. I’m sorry guys, but melmcshane is the one that did this to you all. I’m merely writing these scenarios in the most logical/in character way I know how. I didn’t do this!

Before we get into what happens if Byleth is pregnant during captivity, we need to figure out how this would happen. Now, it’s no secret that I’m against student/teacher while the student is in school, and Dimitri is only 17 when he’s in school which is iffy as shit to me. I may have projected that onto Byleth as well, y’know, just wanting to keep the power dynamics at balance. It’s very clear to me that Dimitri and Byleth do fall in love over the course of the school year, but I imagine one of the things holding them back is the fact that Byleth is Dimitri’s teacher and Dimitri is the prince of Faerghus.

So the affair would have had to happen late in the year. Both biologically and personally speaking. I mean, Byleth would have had to be in the extremely early stages of pregnancy to go into the battle without noticeable changes, especially considering her default clothes shows off here naval. She would have had to be in the first trimester, which gives us a three month interval.Now, Dimitri was on a downward spiral during that interval, but there’s a certain point I think we can pin when this affair would have happened. Now, I’m going to go ahead and say it didn’t happen post-reveal because Dimitri was not okay and I doubt he nor Byleth would have indulged in such an intimate moment at that time. It would have been iffy at best, and I don’t think either one of them would have been emotionally able to 

If I had to take a guess when they’d indulge in such a moment, I think I would put my bets on the night before visiting the holy tomb actually.

Logically speaking, I think that’s the best bet. If Byleth and Dimitri have harbored feelings for one another that they’ve been holding back based on the fact that Byleth is his teacher, then I think that this is the time that issues would seem most irrelevant to either of them. Not only does this take place after one of the moments that I have speculated either of them could have realized they’ve fallen in love in the game, but this is also a critical moment where they don’t know what will happen. Neither of them know what will happen when Byleth receives the revelation, and even if Byleth is expecting nothing based on what she knows about what happened to Sothis that no one else does, there’s no guarantee that she will not come out of this unchanged, or perhaps even replaced/overwritten by Sothis. 

So, maybe the night before the ritual Dimitri comes to check on Byleth, or maybe it’s the other way around considering he mentions that he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Either way, they’re both worried about the other, and they don’t know what will happen, or what the future holds, and this might be their last chance to tell each other about their feelings. Maybe it started out innocent enough, with some mutually reassuring words, mutual attempts at comfort, and then it got more heavy from there. Comfort somehow became admitting they don’t wanna lose each other, which somehow became a kiss, which lead to them forgetting everything outside that moment and just focusing on each other, which lead to that night. 

It was a thing of passion and comfort, because they’re scared everything will change and they’ll lose each other and then may be the first and last time the get this. 

They’re…not wrong.

After the holy tomb there were more important things to focus on. Dimitri’s mental health has rapidly declined, and there’s a war marching toward them, and things have gone to hell. So there’s no time to talk about what happened, not yet, right now they need to focus. They can talk later, if they survive.

Maybe they did say something before battle, maybe they promised that after they would talk. Who knows. In any case, the battle goes as it does in the game, with Edelgard’s forces taking Garreg Mach and basically destroying it, and Byleth falling off that cliff.

So, when Byleth fell off that cliff she would have been about two months into her pregnancy. That’s early enough both to not be showing and for the baby to possibly survive the fall with their mother so long as Byleth didn’t land on her stomach or anything. So, for the sake of the prompt, I’m going to say that the baby got lucky here and the force of impact didn’t do much to disrupt the pregnancy. Now Byleth is in a coma, and pregnant, and the Imperial troops probably find her.Now, I’m going to assume some field medics are on the case, but I doubt they’re going to be looking for signs of pregnancy in a soldier, especially one that survived falling from a cliff, so they don’t realize right away and keep Byleth put under for the trip to Enbarr like in the original Captured Post. They put her in the tower, lock her up, and things continue as it was in my original AU.

Except that, of course, things have to change if Byleth is pregnant.

Now, I’m going off the assumption Byleth didn’t realize she was pregnant at first.  Observant as she is, I doubt that the possibility of pregnancy was the first thing on her mind at all during the last month or two. If she noticed she missed her period than she probably assumed she was irregular because of stress and anxiety or something.

Three months into the pregnancy though? She’s going to start showing a bit.

Now, three months is the end of the first trimester, so she’s starting to show more than a little bump. During the second month she could brush off a little bump as some weight gain, maybe, but three months in and it’s becomes a little difficult to mistake a swell for extra fat tissue. By this time she will miss her third period in a row, and would start showing more noticeable symptoms. Morning sickness would definitely be an issue, a heightened sense of smell as well as fatigue, much more frequent urination, breathlessness, headaches, mood swings, frequent changes in libido, and of course, breast swelling.

Yeah, pregnant ladies deal with a lot of bullshit, and being trapped in a tower shouldn’t be one of them.

Now, Byleth isn’t stupid. That said, I can see her being in denial at first. She’s already trapped here, she can’t be pregnant on top of that! She probably denies it for as long as she can.

But no one else is stupid either, and she has people watching her for signs of health risks and such. They probably notice something is up right away and have healers sent in. And even if Byleth somehow denied them the chance to check her, it would become very obvious to everyone very fast that she’s pregnant.

Can you imagine how horrified some of the Black Eagles student’s would be to realized they locked up their pregnant professor in a tower?

So they find out she’s pregnant. I imagine that, at first, Edelgard isn’t too happy with the news. There’s probably a lot of debate over who the father could even be, because I doubt that Byleth would share that particular information. Some of the more observant students, like Hubert, could venture a guess that it was Dimitri, but there’s no solid evidence yet. There’s probably a lot of debate about what to do about the professor, specifically what to do about the child. Some might have even been in favor of, y’know, easing up on the captivity (Dorothea), or at least putting her under house arrest as an alternative (Ferdie), just anything to ease up on a pregnant woman. Someone may have suggested…”accidentally” inducing a miscarriage (which I think would be a last fucking straw for a lot of the students, not going to lie, you can only justify so much awful shit in the name of safety) which got very quickly eliminated from the ideas. Either way, it’s considered an unresolved issue…at first.

Byleth, herself, would be stuck on what to do. She’s not stupid, she knows that if she has this child then they’re probably going to take them, or kill them, or…something. Worst case scenario they grow up trapped in this room for all their life and never see the outside. Or Edelgard takes them as fills their head with nonsense. Or…or…

She can’t see a good way for this to end. The best she can hope for is a rescue, or to escape while she’s still early. But security will have been doubled by this, and she doubts she can escape with a baby in her arms. Risking herself is one thing, risking an innocent baby is another. But staying doesn’t seem any better.

Byleth may even also legitimately be considering somehow aborting the child herself out of sheer desperation. It’s not that she doesn’t want the babe, she just legitimately can’t see a way to save them.

Let’s say that there’s no chance to get rid of the baby though, what happens?

I can see Edelgard being resentful…at first. But the longer the pregnancy goes on, the softer her feelings for the idea becomes. She might never have a child of her own, after all, there’s no certainty, and the idea of raising the babe as her own family has appeal. 

Byleth would swell, of course, and go through the turmoils of pregnancy without the father. I wonder if Byleth would ever rub her belly and think about Dimitri? I wonder if she would wonder if he’s alive? I wonder if she sings to the babe? Or tells it stories? Babies are supposed to be able to sense that stuff in the womb, right? That’s what the stories say. So she probably tells them about their father when she’s all alone. She probably tells them about their grandfather too, and the mercenaries, and Garreg Mach, and what little she knows about Faerghus. I wonder if she knows any lullabies? I wonder if she has to make some up? I wonder if she tells them about the Blue Lions, about kind Ashe, and gentle Mercedes, and loyal Dedue, and clever Sylvain, and responsible Ingrid, and fierce Felix, and loving Dimitri.

I wonder if she agonizes over the names. I wonder if she wishes Dimitri was there to help her. I wonder if she rubs her belly and tries to imagine what kind of names Dimitri would have liked, what kind would fit Faerghus.

Her child deserves to grow up knowing these people, knowing their home, but instead they’re going to know round walls and windowless rooms.

I wonder if she gives birth in that room of if they let her into an infirmary. She probably gives birth in that room.

They probably let her keep the baby herself, because newborns need constant attention from their mother. They need to be nursed, and changed, and given constant affection. Maybe, that’s what gets Byleth through the first year and a half of her captivity, taking care of the baby. Naming them, telling them stories, playing with their hair.

Byleth is a new mother, and she didn’t have a mother of her own to learn from, but she has nothing but time to learn in this room. 

I wonder if the babe has blonde or green hair? I wonder if they have green or blue eyes? I wonder if they have their father’s nose? Their grandfather’s ears? I wonder if Byleth looks at them and thinks about Dimitri sometimes, and the fact this child might never meet him.

Okay, but in my discord server we decided that Link from BOTW is the Dimileth love child and now I can’t stop thinking about it.

One thing the child does have is a crest of Blaiddyd.

Pretty hard to hide who the father is with that.

The Black Eagles all try to be involved in raising the child. They brings toys, and books, and clothes. The stay and tell stories and sing songs. But it doesn’t make up for the fact that the child is growing up in such an environment and never will.

Edelgard probably relocates the child after the first half a year, though. She moves them to a royal nursery and has nannies help raise them, and tries to act as a second mother to them. It was probably a big fight to get them out of the room, with lot’s of Byleth screaming and kicking and clawing at the guards as they took her child. Edelgard probably tried to placate Byleth, saying that the babe needed to be outside some, and that she’ll join him as soon as the war is over.

Or maybe that doesn’t happen. Maybe the babe is locked in that room with their mother, having never seen the outside world. Never knowing anything but that room.

I think that one is sadder and more likely, if only to keep Byleth complacent, so we’ll go with that one.

The babe probably grows up with two different extremes. On one hand Edelgard is trying to be their mother and feel their head with Empire propaganda. On the other hand Byleth is telling them not to trust Edelgard, whispering different stories than the one they’ve heard about the war and he people involved. The grow up with one side telling them about the evils of the church and crests, and the other telling them about the best memories of Garreg Mach and the people there.

For years, the only thing the child hears about their father is that he’s either an enemy of the Empire, a dead one, or he was a kind and just man. 

If the poor babe was locked up with their mother and never let out than they’re probably more inclined to believe her over the other mother that’s not really their mother that visits all the time, even if she does bring great toys. The news would be more mixed if they’re raised in the nursery. But since I’m leaning towards the former…

The child grows up pale and used to enclosed walls. They probably don’t know what the sky looks like, or the sun, or a forest, or lake, or the stars. They’ve seen pictures in the books the Black Eagles bring, but no real concept other than that.

I like to think that Byleth probably finally decides to risk escape when the child asks if he’ll ever get to feel rain. That’s when she tries to make plans at least.

Byleth probably teaches him to wield a sword as best she can in that room, teaching him to swing a little wooden toy sword as best she can. 

The first time the child sees the sky is during the first escape attempt.

Tiny hands clutch their mother’s clothes from beneath a cloak, and small eyes turn up towards the sky to see so much bright that they’re blinded, unused to so much light. It’s big, and blue, larger than they could have ever imagined.

Byleth fights a whole armed guard trying to get out of that city, her child strapped to her back. She’s fiercer than any dragon, more savage than any lion, and more determined to get through those gates than any force of nature they’ve ever faced. It takes dozens and dozens of guards to stop her without harming her or the child, but they do, eventually, because Byleth couldn’t go all out, she couldn’t risk the tiny body on her back.

She failed to escape in the end.

The babe is most certainly taken from her after that, relocated to a nursery and only allowed supervised visits every day. Byleth isn’t even sure if she’s angry or not, because she showed her child the sky, and they get to see it all the time now, the get to see something other than this damn room, and she still see them every day.

Still, ever day she holds them close to her chest, when it’s time for them to leave her, those small hands clutching her clothes and fat tears rolling down their chubby cheeks. All she can to is hold them so close in a warm embrace and whisper promises in their ear that she’ll get out someday, and when she does she’ll come get him, and they can go away and find their father, and the Blue Lions, and then they can all finally live together under the sky.

[halstudandruz]

Say You’re Sorry (NSFW)

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Things get a little tense at Molly’s after celebrating a case.

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, teasing, teasing, and more teasing.

There are just some cases that hit a little harder than others, and the one you and your team had been working on the last few days were one of them. Sitting in the bullpen you couldn’t be any happier to finally finish your report and leave it all behind you. Knowing you had saved the girl and your criminal wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

“What is taking you so long.” You complained to your boyfriend tapping your fingers impatiently on your desk beside his.

“Some of us like to be thorough.” He answered still typing. You looked around before turning your eyes back to him

“Looks like your the only one.” You joked, everyone already having left 20 minutes before. Antonio looked over at you giving you a look before you heard the printer starting. “Finally!” You exclaimed getting up and gathering your stuff off your desk.

“You know, nobody told you you couldn’t just go back to your own apartment.” He joked walking back in the room after grabbing his papers.

“Uh..actually yes, you did.” You retorted. “You also said you were going to take my key away from me if I left you alone.” You pointed out.

“Got you to stay though didn’t it.” He smirked walking closer to you pinning you against your desk looking down at you. You smiled wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your lips wasting no time showing him how much you needed him. When you have bad cases it comes with very little sleep and also very little time to do anything else. Working together and having to watch Antonio go all badass is just the cherry on top of your heightened hormones. He roughly gripped your hips lifting you up on your desk inserting himself between your legs moving down to your neck. “Forget the bed, let’s do it here.” He breathed out grinding himself into you before you pulled away pushing him off of you leaving him looking a little flustered.

“We’re already late Dawson. Let’s go.” You smiled innocently taking his hand to drag him with you. Earning a soft huff from him. By the time you walked in the door to Molly’s an hour later your plan was already set in motion in your head. After going to Antonio’s he wanted nothing more than to just stay at home doing other things, but you insisted you had promised everyone you would be at Molly’s. So you dragged a reluctant, very clearly horny Antonio, with you. You stopped at the bar ordering your drinks greeting many of those seated at the counter before walking over to a table most of your team was seated around.

“Great timing!” Kim exclaimed pulling you down on the seat beside her while Antonio sat down in the empty seat on your other side. “Tell Adam that Friends is better than The Office.” Kim finished.

“What?” You laughed.

“He thinks The Office is better and he is clearly wrong.” She explained.

“Sorry Ruz I’m gonna have to take your girls side on this one.” You shrugged making him throw his hands up in the air as they continued to debate. Antonio was immersed in conversation with Jay so of course you took this as your first opportunity lightly trailing your fingers up and down the inside of his thigh. His eyes flickered over to you before he returned to his conversation. Just as you went to move your hand higher he reached under the table grabbing it and bringing it on top of the table intertwining your fingers making you smirk to yourself, glad it was already making an impact and you had only been there 15 minutes. Not too long later you had offered to get the table another round. By the time you had returned to the table with the tray Hailey had arrived and was sitting in your seat.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I took your seat didn’t I?” She asked getting to move up.

“No you’re good!” You smiled pushing her back down lightly and moving to sit in Antonio’s lap. To everyone else it may have looked innocent, but Antonio knew better as you heard him shudder a deep breath. Obviously every time you moved in his lap was for a different purpose. As his grip on your hips got tighter and tighter. The conversation on his end seemed to cease while you continued to contribute to the conversation at the table grinding down onto him every couple of minutes.

“Antonio, bro what’s up?” Jay asked noticing his quietness.

“What? Nothing. I was just listening to the conversation.” He shrugged stumbling over his words a little. Jay raised an eyebrow suspiciously but let it go continuing his story. You turned to look at Antonio tilting your head sweetly.

“Yes?” He asked a little harshly under his breath.

“Nothing.” You shrugged leaning into his ear, “I just can’t stop thinking about having your cock in my mouth.” You whispered into his ear kissing his cheek and turning back to the table. Nobody noticing a thing. You felt his breath hitch against your back. “I have to pee.” You announced sliding off Antonio slowly making him clench his jaw noticeably at the harder contact. Antonio went to get up as well to follow you, you assumed, but Kim and Hailey got up instead informing you they were coming. By the time you had walked out you were behind Kim and Hailey them a few steps ahead of you. Just as you were about to walk out of the hallway back into the bar setting you felt someone grab you by the wrist yanking you backwards. Knowing it was Antonio you turned to follow him back into the bathroom. Where he spun you around pinning you against the door attacking your lips immediately. You slipped your hands up his shirt running them along his torso making him shiver at the contact. He pulled back looking you in the eye, eyes dark. As you moved to lift his shirt off admiring his body in front of you just about drooling at the man standing there.

“Really?” He asked half serious, half amused.

“What?” You retorted smirking.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said.

“Says the person who dragged me into a bathroom.” You replied.

“Thanks to you.” He bit his lip looking you up and down before leaning in to attack your lips again taking no time to assert his dominance shoving his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his hand leave your hip before hearing the lock click. He moved from your lips down your neck nibbling hard on your collarbone making you suck in a deep breath. You could feel his hard on pressing up against your leg making you feel completely accomplished inside. He pulled back flipping around so he was the one up against the door.

“You caused it, you take care of it.” He ordered dominantly his finger under your chin tilting your head up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Whatever you say papi.” You smirked immediately dropping to your knees. You pressed a single kiss to his dick outside of his tight jeans making him hum in even the slightest contact. “I wasn’t kidding when I said this was all I could think about.” You casually started a conversation while working on his belt along with his jeans until you had them down to his boots immediately wrapping your lips around the head of his dick. His hand flew to the back of your head intertwining his fingers in your hair, groaning at the immediate action, expecting to be teased more. You took in all you could, moving your mouth up and down his shaft, your hand wrapped around the base moving at the same speed as your mouth, making up for the extra length you couldn't reach without deepthroating . He couldn’t help himself tightening his grip in your hair holding your head still before he began to fuck himself into your mouth. Occasionally making you gag as tears began to flow down your face.

“You have no idea how good you look like this darling.” He grunted out before stopping his motions and pulling you up from your knees. He wiped away the tears on your face grabbing your face and bringing you in for a gentler kiss this time. Pulling away and kissing your forehead before dropping to his knees this time. Pulling his jeans up enough to cover his knees because you know you still were in a bathroom. He efficiently worked on your jeans before pulling them down along with your panties. He looked up at you smirking as he kissed the inside of your thighs. Before running a finger up your folds smiling wider at your wetness as your knees quickly went weak at his touch. “Would you look at that. Making fun of me for being hard and you’re just as bad.” He joked.

“Nobody can see how horny I get, you on the other hand-“ You began to retort before moaning loudly feeling Antonio’s tongue lick up your folds and flick at your clit.

“We are technically still in public dear.” He pointed out, eyebrow raised before he went back to what he was doing. You couldn’t help the quiet whimpers escaping you as Antonio’s tongue and fingers ravished you taking no mercy.

“Ant...I-I’m..” You rasped out before he pulled back returning to his feet as you gave him a glare.

“What? You’re allowed to tease and I’m not?” He shrugged smiling. He backed you up against the door once again kissing you effortlessly picking you up wrapping your legs around his waist. You moved yourself against his dick teasingly before he pulled back lining himself up with your entrance looking at you for permission. Once he was given it he pounded into you wasting no time. Your head dropping into his neck letting out a scream, succeedingly muffling it against Antonio’s skin thankfully. Antonio was usually gentle with you but from the word go this time he was pounding into you so hard you were seeing stars. Not really sure how you were even managing to keep yourself upright knowing that Antonio was probably having to hold you up with his strength. “How are you always so fucking tight.” Antonio grunted, breaths getting heavier with each thrust adjusting himself so he was hitting your g-spot.

“Oh god...please don’t stop.” You begged nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked you into the door. It didn’t take long at all for you to feel your stomach grow tighter. Desperately crying out into Antonio’s shoulder truly feeling like you were in heaven until his thrusts slowed. Your head shot up looking at his amused face still breathing heavy.

“Tell me you’re sorry.” He demanded going agonizingly slow.

“Antoniooooo.” You whined wiggling in his grasp trying to get more friction.

“Tell me you’re sorry or you’re not going to cum.” He repeated himself giving a hard thrust biting down on your shoulder.

“Okay..I’m sorry..” You gave in. He looked at you eyebrow raised apparently satisfied with your completely distressed look as he continued at his original speed. It took no time at all for you to return to the peak of your orgasm. “Babe…” You moaned knowing he would get the hint.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me.” He said fucking you harder than you thought was even possible as you came over the edge shaking as the pleasure ran throughout your body. Not long after you felt Antonio’s dick twitch inside you filling you with his cum as he moaned into your neck. He took a minute to gather his strength again before carefully pulling out of you and sitting you back down on your shaky feet. You both adjusted yourselves as best as you could fixing your clothes and hair.

“That was hot.” You laughed kissing your boyfriend. Before taking his hand and heading back out to your table. As you returned everyone stopped their conversations and averted their attention to you.

“You guys are disgusting.” Adam said giving you a look as everyone laughed.

“Oh please like you’ve never done it.” You rolled your eyes pulling another chair up to the table. Ignoring the team’s jokes knowing it was fully worth it.

[peachdoxie]

Okay so I’m like way late in sharing my liveblog of chapter 13, but I read it earlier and took notes and here they are! Man, what a doozy of a chapter! I have a lot of things to say.

Conjoined fabrials require a careful division of the gemstone—and the spren inside. 

Like we knew this already but hearing about it directly is like. Yikes.

Other types of spren do not split as evenly, as easily, or at all. 

Gimme the lore, Branderson

Shallan had to deal with Veil’s alcohol abuse. Again. 

Yikes

He was using that time to go ride horses. 

The paranoid part of me thinks something else is going on, but also Adolin is still allowed to have interests, especially if he’s grown closer with Dalinar’s Ryshadium after losing Sureblood in Words of Radiance, as the chapter later describes.

Shallan found herself alone—and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t have a role to play.

Inchresting.

The deal is set and arranged. The spren will come.

wat

Seven years ago now—and if that timeline was correct, she must have begun seeing Pattern as a young child. Long before Jasnah had first encountered her spren.

I feel like this is important but idk why. It sort of implies that the Cryptics were the first spren to start forming Nahel bonds in the current era, but, again, why? What are the implications?

She couldn’t see those memories; didn’t want to see them. As she shied away from them, something dark shifted inside her, growing stronger. Formless. Shallan didn’t want to be the person who had done those things. That… that person could not… not be loved…

Oof but also not true

Memory loss was apparently common to these cases, but the rest of what Shallan experienced seemed distinctly different. Importantly, she wasn’t experiencing continued memory loss. So maybe she was fine. She’d stabilized.

I have the feeling Shallan does, in fact, have some significant memory losses that she’s either unaware of or so in denial about she doesn’t realize she’s in denial of them.

Besides, these fabrials did the work of a dozen people.

lmao Roshar is undergoing industrialization which is probably a bad thing

When she became Veil, the colors in the room… muted. The colors didn’t change, but her perception shifted.

Neat detail. I wonder how that would interact with the various Heightenings of Nalthis.

His pet chicken, the green one.

IT’S BIRB TIME!!!!!

“Of course, with your powers nothing is permanent, is it? You deal exclusively in the ephemeral.”

That’s kind of a recurring issue in Shallan’s life, isn’t it, the lack of permanence?

His chicken held its prey with one foot, eating almost like a person did with their hands. The thing was so strange, so alien. It stood upright, like no other beast Shallan had studied. When it chirped at Mraize, it sounded almost like it was talking, and she swore she could occasionally make out words. It was like a tiny parody of a person.

Lmao “alien.” Shallan, you have no idea how right you are. Also, I’m going to guess the bird may actually be talking to Mraize since it’s a fucking aviar

Ask a better question. “Nalathis,” Radiant said. “Scadarial. What are they?”

“Nalthis. Scadrial.” He spoke the words with a different accent. “Where are they. That’s an excellent question, Radiant. Suffice it to say they are places in Shadesmar where our Stormlight—so easily captured and transported—would be a valuable commodity.”

Okay sure just fucking namedrop the other planets in the cosmere again why don’t you

A more perfect gemstone could contain the Light long enough to go offworld, but there is still the Connection problem. This little flaw has caused untold trouble. And the one who unlocks the secret would have untold power.

dear fucking hell, Mraize.

tbh I don’t even know how to react to this revelation. It’s so simple and yet so ambitious, and it would have significant impacts not just on Roshar, but on the whole of the cosmere. Not to mention: Investiture on Roshar is renewable because when it’s used, it returns to the Spiritual Realm until it’s brought back into the Physical by highstorms or a perpendicularity. What would happen if Mraize found a way to take Honor’s Investiture and have it be used somewhere else in the cosmere outside of the Rosharan system? Would that unbalance the Shards even more?

just an absolute what the fuck. there are so many unknown Realmatic ramifications for this. what the fuck.

“I already have,” Mraize said, making a fist. “Though putting the plan into motion will be difficult. I have a job for you.”

Great, Mraize already knows how to do this incredibly ridiculous Realmatic bullshit. This is going to be bad if he gets it up and running, even if Mraize himself isn’t “evil.” It would radically change everything, and there are many bad people who would abuse that change.

“I have news for you,” Shallan said. “Sja-anat contacted me while I was away. She agreed to your terms, and is sending one of her spren to the tower, where it will investigate your members for a possible bond.”

Ah, so this is who Shallan was communicating with earlier. But how did Sja-anat use a spanreed? And what kind of spren will she send, and how has it been corrupted?

Also, Shallan and Mraize at least know that Glys was corrupted by Sja-anat. I wonder who else holds this knowledge.

“I cannot betray this secret,” Mraize said. “Let’s just say that Lightweavers fascinate me, and leave it at that. And you should not fear if I did keep someone close to you. Such a person could be an… aid in times of need. Iyatil did the same for me.”

*tosses another piece of evidence onto the theory I saw someone make that Shallan, in a very repressed persona, is actually Mraize’s spy*

“Immortality, in part. He thought he could become like the Heralds. In his quest, he discovered a secret. He had Voidlight before the Everstorm—he carried it from Braize, the place you call Damnation. He was testing the movement of Light between worlds. And one close to him might have answers. At any rate, we couldn’t risk Ialai or the Sons of Honor recovering these secrets.”

I honestly don’t know what to make of this but it seems important so

“Oh, we know where he is,” Mraize said. “He has asked for—and been granted—asylum in a city no other Ghostblood has been able to enter.”

“A place you can’t enter?” Shallan asked. “Where is security that tight?”

“The fortress named Lasting Integrity,” Mraize said. “Home and capital city of the honorspren in Shadesmar.”

OH SURE BRANDON, JUST DROP ANOTHER FUCKING BOMBSHELL IN THIS CHAPTER, I CAN DEFINITELY HANDLE IT

at least my question of “why the fuck is SHALLAN going to Lasting Integrity” is answered

“Oh, you will. And once you successfully return from this mission, your reward will be—as always—something for which you hunger. Answers. All of them.”

So like, first of all I’m skeptical that Shallan will actually succeed, so that’s one thing. And second, what’s to say that Brando will just have Shallan learn things off the page and we don’t know the answers? Either way, I eagerly await how this plot line will play out. Whatever’s gonna happen, it’s gonna involve some hella cosmere Lore.

Mraize had never been willing to speak of that, but she had to think they’d been grooming her—and her family—for over a decade.

He knew the truth about Shallan’s past. There were holes in her childhood memories. If they did what he asked, Mraize would fill them.

And maybe then, at long last, Veil could force Shallan to become complete.

The word “grooming” stands out to me here. What, exactly, were they grooming her for?

***

Anyway. Wow. What a fucking chapter. So little action, and yet so much just changed. Rhythm of War is taking on a very different look now that there’s Lore at stake.

[strangerivy]

The Beginning - Fifteen

Summary: As the Full Moon approaches, Kacy can't help but feel on edge all day and it seems to be even harder on Scott as they get in a fight that leads to something Kacy never thought would happen. Warnings: Swearing | Violent Depictions Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Kacy) Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 2.9k Author’s Note: I was honestly so excited for this chapter and I was not expecting it to go this way but as I was writing it just kind of fit. So I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think! Also if anyone knows anyone that makes banners could you shoot me a message? thank you!

|| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Masterlist ||

I got back to my house shutting the door harder than I intended wincing at the impact, my mom popped her head out from the hall upstairs looking down with a confused expression as she watched me trudge up the stairs.

“Everything okay?” She asked as I got closer to her

“Yeah, fine,” I muttered walking past her going straight to my room shutting the door. I leaned my back against it closing my eyes taking a few deep breaths. Why was I acting like such a brat? It's not her fault. Hell, she has no idea what is going on with her kids. Maybe that was the problem.

I let out a frustrated groan hitting my head against the door. I dropped my bag next to my desk before plopping down in the chair. I tapped my heel repeatedly on the ground as I felt my anxiety build up.

I ran a hand through my hair opting for a bath to calm my nerves or at least try too. I sighed as the warm water hit my skin. I stayed in the bath a lot longer than I had intended, it was actually the sound of Scott's window being opened that brought me back to reality.

My hearing tuned in on the voices coming from downstairs.

“Stiles, they're okay right?” I heard my mom ask him

“Scott and Kac? Yeah totally,” He answered trying his best to mask his lie. I could picture him scratching his head and doing his best to keep eye contact. I walked into my room quietly, a towel wrapped around me tightly. I cracked my door open slightly to hear better.

“They just don’t talk to me, that much anymore, like they used to,” I leaned my head against the door shutting my eyes as a wave a pang of guilt rushed over me hearing the brokenness in my mom’s voice.

“They’ve just had a hard week.” Stiles tried to reason

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” I walked away from the door pulling on some sweats and a shirt. I heard Stiles footsteps come up the stairs, I heard him pause briefly outside my door before continuing to Scotts.

“Oh my god!” I heard him panic, I quickly walked through the bathroom going into Scott's room.

“What?” I asked looking at him, he gestured at Scott's chair and I turned looking over at a very ominous Scott.

“He scared me,” Stiles explained, “Your mom said he wasn’t home yet.”

“I came in through the window,” Scott explained in an emotionless voice, there was an awkward silence between the three of us.

“What you got?” I asked breaking the silence kicking the bag Stiles had dropped on the floor

“Wait till you see what I bought,” He kneeled down unzipping the bag

“I’m fine,” Scott replied, Stiles and I both looked up at him “I’m just going to lock the door and go to bed early tonight.”

“You sure about that?” Stiles asked him

“Scott, you know that’s not going to work,” I tried to reason

“Yeah, you’ve got this kind of serial killer look going on in your eyes, and I’m hoping it’s the full moon taking effect, ‘cause it’s really starting to freak me out,” Stiles continued, I nodded my head in agreement not taking my eyes off of Scott. Scott looked over at me with a dead look, nothing that resembled my brother.

“I’m fine,” He repeated “You should go,” I glanced over at Stiles and he glanced over at me as we both had the same thought.

“Maybe we should at least see what he got Scott,” I suggested trying to act calm

“Yeah maybe you use it maybe you don’t” Stiles added, Scott slowly lifted himself off the chair walking over to the bag and kneeling down slowly, I caught a glimpse of Stiles grabbing something hiding it behind his back.

Scott reached in the bag grabbing a handful of the chains. “You really think I’m going to let you chain us up like dogs?”

“Actually no,” Stiles moved quickly cuffing Scott's wrist and moving to the radiator cuffing the other end to it before quickly moving away from him.

“Agh! what the hell are you doing?” Scott yelled angrily yanking on the cuffs, I stood up backing away from him as he looked at Stiles and I like he wanted to kill us.

“Protecting you from yourself and a little payback for making out with Lydia,” Stiles responded glaring down at Scott.

“You did what?” I yelled staring down at Scott in disbelief

“Don’t look at me like that Kac, like you aren’t a little bit happy,” He shot me a sickenly smug smirk and I narrowed my eyes at him as anger built up inside of me.

“Oh, fuck you, Scott,” I spat before storming back into my room as Scott laughed menacingly at me. I slammed the door shut making the wall shake. I huffed in annoyance as I heard his laugh my fist clenching.

“Way to go, Scott,” I heard Stiles say to Scott who only responded with a scoff as his laughter faded into annoyance once again.

“Don’t you fucking talk Stiles, you’re the one who has been toying with her emotions for two months,” Scott yelled letting out a growl as anger flared up inside him. I leaned against the bathroom sliding down it to the floor. I pulled my knees close to my chest wrapping my arms around them as I tried to calm down.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles yelled back

“Oh come on Stiles,” Scott spat “You’re only fooling yourself, don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at her,” I stood up in a rage having enough of there fight about me as if I wasn’t standing on the other side of the wall. I threw the door open it hitting the wall hard enough I thought I might have left a hole. I let out an angry growl knowing my eyes were there bright yellow.

“Shut up!” I screamed breathing heavily as my anger started to take over. Scott and Stiles both stared up at me and for a moment a flash of guilt showed up on Scotts face before the wolf took over again and was replaced with a sick smirk. I felt my claws began to grow. I turned quickly walking out into the hall not wanting to hurt either of them. No matter how badly they pissed me off.

“Kac wait!” I heard Stiles yell behind me as I stormed out of the house “Kacy will you please just stop!”

I let out a scream that came out as a roar halting to a stop. I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face, I kept my head down my hands balled into fist as I tried to keep my emotions in check, but it was just so damn hard.

“Don’t you get it?” My shoulders shook from my sobs as I looked up at him, he watched me carefully as he too tried to hold back tears. “Don’t you get that I love you!” I watched as the impact of my words took their effect, his chest stopped moving for a moment as he sucked in a breath. “I wish I didn’t,” I took a step closer “I wish you were just my best friend,” Another step, “I wish it didn’t hurt whenever you mention Lydia.” Another step. “I wish- I wish that it was a year ago and none of this happened,”

I stood up straight holding my composer, but the tears still fell. I wanted to pretend that I was strong, I wanted to pretend that he didn’t have this much control over me. But he did. One more step and I would be nosed to nose with him. One more step and I would feel his breath on my face. One more step and I would fall apart.

He stared at me, mouth slightly opened his chest moving up and down with each heavy breath. He looked down and I felt my heart shatter, my head dropping waiting for the words that I didn’t want to hear. But the silence dragged on between us.

“Well, I don’t,” He spoke so softly and if it wasn’t for my heightened hearing I might have missed it, my headshot up to see him looking back at me, “I don’t wish any of that because-” He took that last step forward, closing the space between us. He reached up slowly cupping my cheek wiping away the tears. I stood there frozen unable to move as I waited for him. His head cocked to the side and a small smirk spread across his lips.

“Because I would have gone another year ignoring the fact, that your smile makes my heart skip,” I felt my body stiffen “That your laugh brings a smile to my face even when I feel like shit.” My eyes began to water again, I bit my lip unable to take my eyes off him now. “That I am so in love with my brilliant, beautiful, and chaotic best friend,” I let out a choked laugh as I began to smile at his words. The words I had waited for years to hear.

“You are? But Lydia?” I asked not able to fully believe that this was actually happening, that he picked me.

“Ever since that first full moon, that first kiss. I’ve been trying to fight it.” He admitted, “and I thought if I focused on Lydia then I would stop feeling this way for you.” He looked at me his eyes beginning to water, “But I can’t and I don’t want too.” He gave me a shy smile before he started to move closer till his lips brushed against mine. He stared into my eyes waiting for me to give him permission. I closed the space sucking in a breath as our lips crashed together in a heated kiss. His tongue brushed against my lower lip asking for entrance and I let him. His hands slowly made their way to my waist leaving a trail of goosebumps on my exposed skin.

But the moment couldn’t last forever, the moon broke through the clouds and my body stiffened as the wolf fought to breakthrough. I broke the kiss with a gasp letting out a scream. Stiles's eyes widened as he grabbed a hold of me pulling me back into the house.

I collapsed onto the ground another scream breaking through, I heard the sound of chains clanking together in my disoriented state and soon feeling the cold metal against my bare arms.

“Stiles,” I whispered my voice coming out deeper than usual.

“Stay with me Kacy,” I heard him say as I heard a lock, I opened my eyes to be met with my own reflection in the entryway mirror. I was transformed. My eyes that were normally a deep brown were a bright yellow. My nose was wider, and my eyes were sunken in slightly and my canines were sharp fangs. I looked terrifying.

I was panting feeling the need to run, to anywhere but here and something buried deep inside, the need to hunt. There was a silence in the house that made me panic.

“Stiles,” I panted trying to fight the moon, he appeared in my sight and I felt my body relax just enough to stay in control. He reached out cupping my cheek and I leaned into it.

“Where’s Scott?” I breathed; his eyes widened as he stumbled to get up racing up the stairs.

“Shit!” I heard him yell and he came barreling back down the stairs. He kneeled down next to me and I nodded knowing he needed to go.

“Go,” I breathed with a small nodded trying to let him know it was okay. He shook his head, I felt him reach for the lock, “What are you doing?” I panicked gaining complete focus now.

“You’re coming with me,” He muttered unlocking the lock.

“Stiles I can’t,” I said as the chains slowly fell to the floor

“You can, I’m right here Kac,” He grabbed ahold off my face forcing me to look at him, he pulled me in for another kiss, resting his head against mine, “Just focus on me,”

I stared at him blinking a few times taking some deep breaths, feeling my body start to relax. My claws slowly changed back, and my fangs slowly disappeared. He smiled rubbing my cheek before grabbing my hand.

“There’s my girl,” He whispered before pulling me up as we raced to the car. He helped me get in before rushing to the driver’s side starting the car. We had no real destination in mind just driving around close to the woods.

I tried to not pay to much attention to the sky because every time I caught a glimpse of the moon, I felt the wolf fight harder. Stiles kept a hold of my hand which helped keep me grounded and focused on not trying to crush his hand as I fought the change that wanted to push through. It was honestly exhausting and I silently hoped that at some point the full moons would get easier. Honestly the fact that I have to deal with this and a period every month was just a sick joke.

“What if he killed someone,” I muttered under my breath, Stiles hit the breaks suddenly sliding the Jeep to a sudden stop, I whipped my head over to him with wide eyes.

“He didn’t” He whispered before looking over at me but I could see in his eyes he was questioning his own words, he shook his head as if to shake away the thoughts, “He wouldn’t.” I nodded with a sad smile when the flash red and blue lights off in the distance caught our attention.

Stiles put the Jeep back in drive and rushed to them coming to a stop once they were right in front of us. He muttered a quick ‘stay in the car,’ before fumbling with his seatbelt and quickly getting out. The EMT’s had a body on a stretcher covered with a sheet. I held my breath as Stiles searched for his dad.

A cop grabbed a hold of him before he could move the sheet of the body, I could see him panicking asking for his dad and then his shoulders relaxed, and his dad came into view. I let out a shaky breath that I didn’t know I was holding, a small smile on my lips.

Stiles gave his dad a long hug and when he broke away, he gestured to the car and his dad looked over raising his hand as in to say high before talking with Stiles some more.

After a few more minutes Stiles was walking back to the car, getting in with a heavy sigh.

“Everything okay?” I asked he let out a breath before looking over me giving a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” He answered reaching over and grabbing my hand giving it a squeeze. “Let me get you home.”

The car ride was silent as we drove back to my house. He parked in the driveway leaning back in his seat.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked I gave a shy smile with a node

“Yeah,” I went to get out of the car but he grabbed hold of my hand and I looked back at him, he leaned in giving a gentle kiss.

“Night Kac,” He whispered, my smile grew, and I felt my cheeks begin to heat up.

“Night Stiles,” I whispered back getting out of the car with an idiot grin. I looked back to see the same grin on his face as he started to pull out of the driveway. I turned back around only to hit what felt like a brick wall.

“I stumbled back a little stunned before regaining my balance looking at who I ran into to seeing Derek Hale in front of me.

“Derek?” I questioned, I glanced up at Scotts room

“Well at least I don’t have to go search for you in the woods,” He said before walking past me, I shook my head before heading into the house locking the doors for the night. I ran up the stairs going into Scott's room to see him sitting on his bed with a guilty expression. At least the normal Scott was back.

I crossed my arms glaring down at him letting out a low growl in my throat. “You’re on my shit list I hope you know.”

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “but it worked out!” He looked up at me giving me an innocent smile and I dropped my arms with a heavy sigh knowing I wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him.

“You’re lucky it did,” I muttered under my breath, I walked over sitting down next to him “Where did you go?”

He let out a deep sigh falling back on the bed, “I found Allison,” I fell back on the bed now too

“Must have not gone well seeing as I ran into Derek outside,” I turned my head to look at him, he shook his head answering my question.

I sat up patting his knee before standing up stretching out my arms and back.

“Try to sleep Scott,” He muttered an ‘okay’ before I walked into my room shutting the door quietly getting ready for bed.

As much as I felt bad for Scott, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I fell asleep.

|| Previous | Next ||

Tags: @criminalyetminimal @itshouldbe @sammypotato67 @capandbuck

[notcanoncompliant]

Finely Tuned

So I read this fluffy-ass prompt a while back:

“Person A was waiting for Person B to arrive for their first date, and when Person B doesn’t show up, Person A’s afraid they’ve been stood up. As Person A is about to leave, they get a phone call from an unknown number. It’s Person B, apologizing and telling Person A they’re in the emergency room for [[insert various stupid reasons here]]. Person A shows up to the hospital with take out, and A & B have their first date in a hospital room.”

….and my brain did this: ****************************************

Peter’s been way too lucky, lately.

His last bad night on patrol was over a month ago, resulting in a pretty minor bullet-grazing. Fixing his suit had been the worst part of that encounter.

This time, though, Peter’s sure there will be significantly worse consequences as he takes in what he can see of the spotless, sanitarium-style room he’s woken up in, the impossibly strong cuffs strapping him down spread-eagle on a hospital bed…and the whole ‘naked except for his mask’ deal.

He’s laying face-up and his head’s not strapped down, but he doesn’t bother looking around long for any objects he could use in an escape, weapons or otherwise. It only takes a few tugs against his restraints to realize he won’t be breaking out of them on his own, and he feels a rush of nerves; the strength of those cuffs means there’s a good chance he knows where he is, or at least, who has him.

A crackling sound emits from a small black circle at the center of the un-textured white ceiling.

“Hey, Charlotte’s Web.”

Peter stiffens at the familiar voice.

There’s a soft chuckle. “How do you feel about playing doctor?”

**

"Will she record…everything?”

Tony nods absently, flicking away another holo-screen of stats.

“Yeah, kid. Everything. That’s the point of the study. If FRIDAY knows everything, I know everything, and the suit’ll be ready for anything.”

It makes sense, but Peter still feels a little nervous about it. None of the tests so far have been anything close to invasive–mostly just wearing stick-on sensors while he does active things; runs on a treadmill or climbs walls–and he does trust the billionaire. Tony’s been nothing but good to him since they officially met on the MIT campus those few weeks ago.

Peter catches the words 'Tactile Sensitivity’ before the new screen gets flipped away.

**

Peter makes a sound, something he refuses to acknowledge as a whimper, and his face flares hot behind his mask. Another quiet laugh drifts down from the ceiling.

“Pulse up, temp rising…Are you afraid?”

The smirk is obvious, even if he can’t see the owner.

“No,” the voice continues, “I don’t think you are.”

**

“FRIDAY, can you–can you disable the recording? For, like, fifteen minutes? Please?”

He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, gripping two handfuls of the down comforter at the edge of the mattress.

The room Tony gave him to stay in for the overnight portion of the study is as cozy and welcoming as a hotel room (which is to say, not very much). It definitely feels as anonymous as one, and that illusion of privacy and alone-ness isn’t really helping him resist.

“I’m sorry, Peter; you’re not authorized to override or pause the recording.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He can ignore it. He can. He does.

…He caves. The need’s too strong.

His pants and boxers end up shoved halfway down his thighs, and he wraps a hand around himself.

**

The door opens, and Peter hears someone step inside and shut it behind them. Footsteps tap across linoleum, stopping at the end of the bed.

“Oh,” Tony says lowly, “you’re definitely not.”

Eyes facing resolutely upward, Peter listens as the genius make his way around to stand beside him.

Something brushes feather-light across the tip of his erection, and Peter gasps involuntarily. The gasp turns into a quiet moan when that something begins paying deliberate but gentle attention to his leaking slit. Shutting his eyes, he bites down on his lower lip and struggles not to arch his hips into the contact.

Tony hums in interest.

“Love seeing how far down that blush goes.”

**

“Fuck, Mr. Stark–Tony–”

Peter gasps the name out as quietly as he can, imagines it’s Tony’s hand he’s fucking instead of his own.

Imagines Tony crooning filthy, sweet nothings into his ear as Peter slides his cock in and out of the slicked channel of the genius’ hand.

–You’re a slut for this, Pete, I knew you would be.

–Say it. Say you’re a slut for me.

“I’m–I’m a slut for this–for you,” he groans out into the silent guest room.

–Good boy. Make yourself cum, sweetheart. Make a mess.

He gasps Tony’s name again as he tenses up and spills over his own fist.

**

“I did some research after you left,” Tony says, casually.

The something–a fingertip, Peter’s 99% sure–does a few more small sweeps over the head of his dick and then stops, pulling away entirely. Peter whines at the loss, but he still doesn’t tilt his head to look.

“Did you know,” the genius says over a dull clicking sound, a case being opened, “that spiders have heightened sensitivity to touch?”

Peter wonders if this is how a heart-attack might feel.

“It’s an oversimplification,” Tony continues, “See, Pete, a spider’s touch sensitivity is fine-tuned–”

There’s a short, plastic click, and then buzzing.

“–to pick up vibrations.”

**

Tony clears his throat.

Peter pauses as he’s reaching for a cereal box.

“I watched the recordings,” Tony says.

Grabbing the box down from the shelf, Peter pours himself a bowl. It’s Frosted Mini Wheats, his favorite. The billionaire started stocking it in his personal kitchen after the first few times Peter’d slipped into the penthouse and crashed on the couch after patrol.

“Did you,” Peter says mildly, taking a bite of cereal. He still doesn’t turn around, doesn’t want Tony to see the pink that’s surely bloomed across most of his face.

When Tony doesn’t say anything immediately, Peter nearly looks over at him, nearly loses this game of chicken they’ve been playing for weeks.

Neither of them speak. Peter stubbornly eats his cereal at the counter, listens to the tapping of the billionaire’s fingers on his tablet.

Eventually, the tapping stops.

“Do you trust me, Pete?”

**

“Oh, God–”

“Thank you, but 'Mr. Stark’ is fine.”

Peter struggles a little, puts pressure on the restraints. Whines at the lack of give.

Tony tuts at him.

“Save your breath, sweetheart.”

**

He does trust Tony. Trusts the forty-year-old genius to take care of him. Of his secrets. Doesn’t matter that there was a little hero worship mixed in there, too, at first; Tony never took advantage. After his guest lecture, when Peter had come to him at the tail end of all the other student admirers, the older man had been warm and professional. Talked to Peter like an equal, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference.

And when Peter took a chance and called him after a particularly rough patrol, Tony collected him and brought him to the tower, no questions asked. Aside from whether or not he needed serious medical attention.

Tony Stark was the second person he’d trusted with his secret identity, and the genius had done nothing but provide him access to his lab and give him a safe place to crash when Peter needed it.

“Yeah,” Peter says, putting his spoon down, turning to face Tony.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Tony. I trust you.”

The billionaire smirks at him, eyes dark, and heat pools low in Peter’s stomach.

“Then I have a proposal.”

**

Peter’s outright trembling as the end of the toy drags torturously light and slow up the inside of his left thigh. Closer…closer…it’s so close, feels like it’s a hairsbreadth away from where he wants it, needs it–

He almost sobs when it’s removed completely.

“Oh, Pete,” Tony says, almost reverently, “Barely anything and you’re already soaked. You slut.”

A shiver rolls through Peter’s body at the word, and he bites down on his lip again desperately to hold back another whine.

The vibrator returns to touch down on the inside of his right knee. He groans.

As Tony slides it back up along a path that mirrors the first on his opposite thigh–just as lightly, just as slow–Peter thinks he might actually cry. Tony’s right; hardly anything and he’s already about to fall apart, a pathetic mess under Tony’s hands.

This time, the toy stops at the end of its trail, but doesn’t pull away. Peter pulls against his wrist restraints in an effort to distract himself from the urge to shift his hips.

So close.

**

“What–uh, what exactly do you have in mind?” Peter asks. His mouth is so dry it’s hard to get the words out.

“A surprise. For you. In the vein of the study.”

Peter nods slowly. “Okay…”

“No impact play,” Tony says calmly. He’s not even looking at Peter now, just scrolling through something on his tablet. “Nothing extreme, nothing dangerous. You’ll have a safeword; that’s non-negotiable.”

The billionaire finally glances up. “In the interest of full–” he pauses, “–of enough disclosure, it would be…intimate.”

“I–I figured,” Peter manages.

**

At the first sense of vibration under the head of his swollen cock, Peter cums abruptly, three warm jets along his stomach, up to his chest. Through his rushing heart beat and ragged breathing, he hears the buzzing stop, and Tony’s low, impressed whistle.

Gentle fingers brush the edge of Peter’s mask, and Peter lifts his head so Tony can pull it all the way off. When he lays back down, Tony’s leaning just slightly over him, smirking.

“Comfy, Pete?”

Peter shuts his eyes, swallows thickly. Nods.

“Remember your words?”

He nods again.

Tony tsks quietly.

“Words, kid,” he says, amused, “I need to hear you say them.”

“Red for stop…green for good…yellow to slow down,” Peter rasps out. His breathing is just beginning to steady, but he still feels like he’s been running.

A calloused hand cards through his hair, massages his scalp. Peter shuts his eyes as a moan slips out without his permission.

Tony huffs a quiet, affectionate laugh.

“Good boy.”

The hand slips from Peter’s hair, and Peter hears and feels the older man shift back to stand in line with his hips. There’s another click, and the buzzing starts again.

“FRI, darling,” the inventor says, nonchalantly, “be a doll and start the counter, for me, please.”

Peter tenses, lifting his head sharply.

**

It’s been almost a month since he’s seen Tony, and Peter’s beginning to think nothing’s going to happen. All the texts they’ve exchanged–and they’ve been few and far between, a sharp contrast to the weeks prior to their last meeting–have been short and perfunctory on Tony’s end.

He tries not to be disappointed; it’s Tony Stark. The guy could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he just didn’t feel the need to follow through on an encounter with a semi-experienced twenty-two year old kid. Just because he’d looked at Peter like he wanted to completely devour him the one time doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

Mid-swing, Peter hears a cry from below, changes direction.

Tony’s probably busy, Peter reasons as he drops down into an alley and what sounds like a garden-variety mugging, and it’s not like the billionaire owes Peter an explanation, anyway–

The alley’s empty, except for a small radio on the ground, still pumping out high-definition, very realistic sounds of a violent physical confrontation.

Something stings his neck, and he barely manages to sling a directionless strand of webbing before he drops and everything goes dark.

**

“I can’t, Tony, please…” Peter begs.

He knows he’s a mess, in his mind–everything is hot and overwhelming but so fucking amazing in a terrible kind of way–and on the outside–tears down his face, sticky all over his chest and stomach and thighs.

“Shh, Pete; you can, sweetheart. One more. Come on. Just one more.”

Tony’s voice is comforting and infuriating and grounding all at once. The genius had ceased the excess touches ages ago (only because Peter had begged him to stop when even fingers carding through his hair or trailing lightly down his limbs became too much to handle), but the older man hasn’t stopped talking. Sweet, encouraging, filthy words; warm endearments and oh so satisfying degradation.

Peter makes a desperate, wordless sound, tries fruitlessly to twist away as Tony draws the vibrator up from the base of Peter’s shaft back to the head.

For a moment it’s a continuation of the same torture of the last however-long-its-been, and then Tony moves away.

Struggling to lift his head, Peter stares down the sticky wreck of his torso in time to see Tony lean down and sweep his tongue over the head of his cock at the same time the vibrations crank up to a frankly unholy level.

*

*

*

“How’re you feeling, kid?” Tony asks.

It’s kind of a big question, Peter thinks.

He’s in the vee of Tony’s legs, reclined against that broad chest while they lounge together on Tony’s obscenely large bed. There’s no tension whatsoever in his muscles, he had the most satisfying nap he’s had in maybe years, and he’s absolutely stuffed from the veritable buffet of aftercare-appropriate food. Tony’s been checking and gently massaging his wrists and ankles, even after his healing factor made quick work of the faint red marks left by the restraints.

He feels loved.

…Or like he’s still coasting on the oxytocin rush of eight consecutive orgasms.

“Um. Good. Great,” Peter says finally, flushing slightly.

Tony hums, and a hand slides into Peter’s hair, calloused fingers scritching lightly at his scalp.

“We’ll try for nine, next time.”

Peter chokes.

[redrebecca]

Effortlessly Endearing

You met at the Met Gala, where you saved his ass and he saved yours.

Warning(s): Just swearing

A/N: Hiya, so this is a little Met Gala fic that doesn’t have Hailey in, at all. I just thought it was a kinda cute idea so yeh. Feedback is always appreciated, have a nice day.

Words: 2.2k

*

“And breathe in.” The woman from behind you commanded. The fabric restricted around your torso as she expertly stitched the material of the dress so it clung to you like a second skin, accentuating the curve of your chest and hips.

You had initially said no to this. A list events such as the Met Gala were never considered fun by your standards, more of a pain in the ass – you would much preferred to stay in your bed, eating junk food until your heart was content. But no. Instead you were stuck in a small, stuffy room being gawked at by more people than you were comfortable with, your internal organs groaning in discomfort at the all-too-tight dress and you wouldn’t dare to think the amount of unimaginable pain your feet would be in after at least 4 hours of walking in those ridiculously high heels that were placed in the corner of the room. You swore your feet ached from just the sight of them.

“Done!” The seamstress exclaimed, the first bit of emotion she’d shown since arriving. You gladly stepped off the pedestal and into your slippers, humming as your toes were finally enveloped in warmth. Unfortunately, your little moment of bliss was interrupted as you were swiftly ushered towards the hair and makeup chair. Your manager scolded you as you accidentally let an annoyed groan slip out of your mouth.

Luckily, or unluckily – you were undecided – the hair and makeup team were extremely efficient. They applied countless amounts of product on your face and put so many bobby pins into your hair you could actually feel the weight of them, in record time. However during this, someone had parted you from your beloved slippers and replaced them with the dreaded heels.

“But they’re custom Louboutins!” Your manager had expressed her disbelief when you had complained about them when they arrived. Like you cared what they were, if you made it through the event without breaking something you would be happy.

Unfortunately for you she didn’t take your request of wearing trainers instead too kindly – in fact she stormed out of the room.

*

You arrived at the event, the familiar buzz heightened your senses as you took in the other celebrities in ostentatious outfits surrounding you.

“Okay so you know the plan?” Your assistant said.

You inhaled and exhaled calming your nerves. You’d done enough met galas that you should be able to do it in your sleep, but nerves still ate away at your composure.

“I’d much rather be at home.” You muttered, wondering how many of these other celebrities felt the same way and which ones craved the attention this served them on a silver platter.

“I know you would,” She pulled you into a hug, granted it wasn’t the smoothest as she had to be extremely careful around the intricate design of your gown, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“You’re an actress right?” She said with a small smile. You nodded. “Then if you need to act, act.” You shoved her lightly, a smile gracing your features at her teasing. “You got this.” She assured you before you turned to walk the red carpet into the huge building.

As soon as you entered through the doors, interviewers began doing whatever they could to attract your attention and the sound of camera clicks increased as paparazzi swivelled and turned their focus from the people they were photographing, to you in your eye catching dress.

Sure the process wasn’t great but the outcome was simply stunning. Everything from the daring neckline to the elegant train that graciously moved behind you, like a shadow following your every move, even the colour – a charcoal grey with flecks of silver that caught the light perfectly – made this one of your favourite dresses.

The raucous caused upon your arrival resulted in many heads turning your way. You straightened your posture and put on your award winning smile before walking over to the closest interviewer.

*

You felt as though you had been here, jumping from tedious interview to tedious interview, for a long time, but, according to your watch, you had been here for under an hour.

Great.

You sped through your interview, deciding it was probably time to walk the carpet – and the dreaded stairs. The sooner you got your hands on that drink at the after party, the better. You politely declined interviewers’ offers that were being shouted at you from every angle and made your way to the buzzing centre of the event.

Several of your past co-stars approached you to have a much needed catch up, granted, it was quick and rushed, but it was always nice to see them.

You walked with Zendaya as you turned towards the long stretch of cameras paparazzi and a sea of very expensive suits and dresses, one man in particular caught your eye. Shawn Mendes. You couldn’t recall seeing him last year, or the year before that. A newbie.

He was talking to Troye Sivan, who perfectly timed scanning the room – just as you looked at him – and pointed towards you, drawing the taller man beside him’s attention to you. You waved, causing the two to smile and wave back. You turned back to your conversation with the actress before she was called over to the side by her assistant, urging you to go on without her.

Your eyes quickly found the maroon suit again, but this time the bright red of Troye’s suit was no longer there. He looked almost lost, certainly unsure. However, you didn’t blame him, you had been to countless events before your first ever met gala but you’d still found it daunting. Your eyes involuntarily trailed down his broad figure before something caught your eye. Your eyes widened when they landed on his crotch area – and not for that reason. You inhaled sharply when you noticed the white that significantly contrasted with the darker tone of his suit. The idiot hadn’t zipped up his trousers.

You panicked, not sure what to do. Should you tell him? You cringed at the thought of approaching a rather attractive human being, who your only interaction with was a brief wave, and telling them that you were staring at their crotch? No thank you. You willed yourself to turn around, after all, it wasn’t your problem. But just as you were about to distract yourself with god knows what – you saw him begin to walk towards the paparazzi. Fuck it, you thought, rushing faster than you thought was physically possible in your heels towards the man who was about to make a huge mistake – whilst wondering how catastrophic yours would be.

You reached him just as he turned towards the first cluster of cameras. Purposefully not giving yourself enough time to overthink your actions you stepped inches away from him, shielding him, and his modesty, from the mob of shouting photographers behind you. His expression morphed into shock very quickly at your unexpected appearance.

“Hi.” You said, the awkwardness of the interaction already had you wanting to hide in your apartment for at least a week, and you hadn’t even addressed the crotch situation yet.

“Hi?” He replied with so much uncertainty it was phrased more like a question than a greeting. You winced. God why did I do this? You swatted those thoughts away. As embarrassing as this was, it was the right thing to do.

“Y/N it’s nice to finally meet you but I-” He started.

“Your fly is undone.” You blurted. You hoped that your foundation was thick enough to hide the deep blush that was unquestionably heating your cheeks.

His eyes widened like a deer in headlights before they quickly left yours so he could check for himself. You looked away to try and reduce the embarrassment, for him and you, only turning back when you heard the hum of the zipper.

His perfectly flushed cheeks had darkened to a shade that almost matched the colour of his tailored suit.

“Thank you so much I- oh my god can you imagine the headlines.” His breaths were becoming more and more shallow with every word he spoke.

“Hey don’t worry about it. Wardrobe malfunctions happen to the best of us.” You nudged his shoulder gently and a beautiful smile grew on his face. To your surprise, he wrapped you in a hug, at first you were worried about creasing your dress, but that thought was erased almost as fast as it had come when you realized just how strangely comforting his hold was.

However you were abruptly brought back to reality by the deafening sound of camera clicks. You pulled away despite everything in you wanting to stay wrapped in his ridiculously strong arms. It was difficult to miss the way his eyes raked down your figure – just like you had done to him – as he too took a polite step back.

“See you at the after party?” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before just settling with a nod. You smiled, your confidence levels thankfully replenishing after that… experience. You turned as attractively as you could to walk away, hoping to ‘flaunt it’ as your assistant would tell you. However when you went to move your foot, it stayed still and you went flying forwards. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact. But instead, before you could physically harm yourself, two muscular arms looped around your front, hoisting you up and towards him, so your back was pressed securely against his chest.

“You okay?” He asked. You tried, and failed, to refrain from shivering as you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear.

“Yep.” You squeaked, still recovering from your almost-fall. If you couldn’t even walk without falling on a flat surface, your chances with the stairs were not looking promising.

“Just stand still for me.” He said, slowly removing you from his arms, ensuring that you were able to stay upright. He leaned down and you inhaled when you felt his large hand gently wrap around your ankle. “You might wanna hold on for a second.” He said and you just managed to hear it over the chaos that meant a popular celebrity was arriving. Your eyebrows furrowed before you caught onto what he was suggesting. You reached down to hold onto his shoulder. When he felt the pressure of your hand, he lifted your foot up, his long fingers untangling the train of your dress from the heel of your Louboutins. Just as carefully as he had picked it up, he placed your foot back on the ground with so much attentiveness, you felt as though you could melt into a puddle right there and then. He didn’t remove his hand straight away, meaning that when he stood back up, his hand trailed dangerously far up your leg causing you to suck in a breath of air.

Shawn’s eyes had a sheepish glint to them as they connected with yours, as if he was unsure of whether he had crossed a boundary. You smiled gratefully “Thank you.” You murmured.

“We’re even now.” He said with a toothy smile, which subsequently made you grin back.

Around the two of you cameras continued to flash and the obnoxious people behind them shouted different orders at the stars who were posing for photos, trying to show off their best angles

“Hey, um do you have a date?” He asked, bringing your attention back to him. He scratched briefly at his neck, surprised at himself for being so audacious. His signs of nervousness made your heart beat a little faster – he somehow managed to go from having his hand on your thigh to being an absolute gentleman, and easily got away with it.

“No I don’.t” You responded. Not wanting to get your hopes up about the intention of his question. You were never that lucky.

“How about we make a deal? We do this together – you tell me if my zipper comes undone,” He quickly motioned to his crotch “And I will catch you when you trip on those stairs.” He finished, nodding towards the steps which you had been dreading since you had received the phone call about the event.

“What do you mean ‘when you trip’?” You said incredulously.

“Come on sweetheart, we both know you won’t make it up there in those,” he referred to your heels, playfully scrunching his nose up as he pointed dismissively at the designer stilettos. “Without at least one fall.” He finished, a wry smile on his lips.

You gasped dramatically, hoping to draw the attention away from your flushed cheeks which were a result of the nickname that slipped from his lips.

“So is that a yes?” He asked, a hint of insecurity seeping into his tone.

You nodded. “I would love to be your date, as long as you promise not to let me fall.” He grinned from ear to ear, your face no doubt mirroring his delighted expression.

“I promise.” He said honestly, extending his arm for you – which you gladly accepted.

You didn’t fall over once.