#tagging for my own amusement/organisation

[saidar]

I had a nonsensical dream about a big battle between groups of characters from every media I've ever seen, none of it made sense but I can tell you that Moiraine and Lady made an absolutely deadly fighting combo

Cutting down Sith Lords with the One Power and the power of these paws. And I didn't understand why my brain threw these specific characters together until I woke up and looked beside my pillow

(Shout out to Thom and Verin because they were there too)

[kyokosayuki]

What my Barbie movie review would sound like

(from the Spider-man/Deadpool #12 comic)

[archive-z]

curating reading lists (without social media)

a guide to finding stuff to read, for @divorceblogger. this is a guide specifically for avoiding things like goodreads/storygraph etc which aggregate books that are popular without being all that helpful for finding things on niche/specialist topics.

a bit of housekeeping before getting to the actual list-making tips:

i mostly read nonfiction targeted at both academic and popular audiences. i also read a mixture of classic lit, genre fiction, zines & conceptual/artists’ books, and playtexts & poetry. i read traditional print books, non-traditional print publications, PDF and ePub ebooks on an iPad/iPhone, and listen to audiobooks and audio dramas.

i have a infinite number of books i want to read. the discovery process of new & interesting outstrips my capacity to read them all, so i have to be extremely selective. this also means i never tolerate a book i’m not enjoying. it can have weak points, but i have to be getting something out of the experience, or else i am wasting my one wild n precious life, ya feel?

my goal is to read for quality, not for quantity. i tend to dislike a lot of online reading communities for their focus on metrics (number of books, page count, word count, etc). i bristle at tools that try to push my reading into this direction. i have a reading practice, in the same sense that one would have an artistic practice. thinking of my reading as a practice — rather than a project, a thing to be completed and checked off the checklist — helps orient me towards patterns of thinking that serve me better

i work in the arts industry, so fiction and non-fiction books are reference tools. when I finish reading a book, I put it back on the shelf, like returning a tool to the toolbox until it is time to use it again. i live in a bachelor flat, so obvs i have to resist the incessant pressures of consumerism, but it doesn’t bother me that i have not read every book that i own. they are there for when i get to them. similarly, i would not be bothered by owning a kitchen fire extinguisher that i have not used.

where do I keep my reading lists?

Obsidian: for organising to-read lists on specific topics, genres, eras, locations, etc. i repeat books across multiple lists where appropriate. i don’t keep a single master list of everything I want to read because it would simply be too unwieldy to manage. Small focused lists of no more than ~25 books on the topic are best, imo.

TinyCat: for cataloguing physical books that i own. i have a shortcut to the website on my phone so i can easily pull it up if i can’t remember what books in a series i already have. i can tag anything unread with my “antilibrary” tag. for my own amusement, i also insert library pockets and circulation cards into my books and stamp them with the date completed (using my beloved rotary date stamp). i can also stamp the date a friend who borrowed the book completed it. i like seeing the signatures add up over time.

Zotero: for academic bibliographic citations. useful habit to get into if you transcribe lots of quotes from yr readings into yr notes.

how do i develop my reading lists?

i usually develop my reading lists through a combination of concerted effort to research a topic & ambient browsing. this isn’t Abt How to rigorously conduct research though so im gonna focus more on ~letting books organically find me~

when i have a book that i enjoy, i see if the author has written any more books on topics that interest me. incredibly basic 101 advice but somehow people still miss this one.

check the bibliographies & acknowledgements. if something comes up in bibliography after bibliography, its usually a good sign its worth checking out. also, authors usually thank other authors in their acknowledgements, its a great way to start building an idea

i love when artists talk abt their influences in interviews, like this interview abt what influences and easter eggs there are in disco elysium (i screamed at the Einstürzende Neubauten reveal!!!). i love when fans come up with their own reading lists for media, like my list speculating what daniel molloy would have read and watched in 1973.

when i am travelling somewhere i try to read something related to the to place I am going. Wikipedia is a first easy point of reference to find out if yr destination is famous for being the birthplace of X poet or Y film is set there.

tertiary sources. secondary sources are about a primary source, whereas tertiary sources aim to provide an overview of the major debates in those secondary sources on a specific topic rather than to generate their own new ideas/arguments. the oxford university press “a very short introduction” series varies in quality but its often a very useful starting point.

recs from friends/gifts. my loved ones know i like books, and books are usually a cheap & easy gift for holidays & special occasions. i gift books that i want to read myself, so we can talk abt the book together.

what physical locations do I browse?

Local library, university library. You might be even be able to get a specialist library card to an archive or museum reading room. Some public libraries also have special collections like the Seattle Zine Library.

For-sale section in the local library. proceeds usually go to supporting the library

local secondhand bookshop. there are several in walking distance, i usually hit them up quarterly, especially as i gift a lot of secondhand books

local independent bookshops. several local independent bookstores host an annual bookstore crawl where if you get a stamp from all of them in one weekend u enter a draw to win $1000 gift card :)

thrift store/charity shop/antique markets. there is usually a section with books even if the main focus is clothes/furniture

book events. author talks, staged readings of new plays, poetry readings, book/lit mag launch parties, Writers Festivals, small/independent press fair, rare book fair, zine fests, international library day, conferences

bookshelves at house parties. im 100% the person checking out yr bookshelf at a house party. great place to get yr flirt on.

travel. basically any new place im going, i look-up in advance the local library, second hand bookstores, charity shops, antiques stores etc. and save them in my maps on my phone. if i can conveniently pop into one while im there, neat! i particularly like municipal libraries bc the big ones are usually architecturally interesting (like the Vancouver Public Library) and the small ones are usually really charming and full of specific local history, leaflets to interesting local stuff, etc.

what online locations do I browse?

navigating the online catalogue to yr local & academic libraries is a whole skill unto itself. i was very fortunate be born in the late 90s and to have a specific local librarian teach me boolean operators before i could tie my shoelaces, ride a bike, or, frankly, do most human being things (shoutout to Miss T yr a real one). your library very likely has something like a workshop or at the very least a help desk that can help u with this if needed.

mailing lists of small/independent presses.

publishers websites (academic and general audience).

wikipedia. u can look at the footnotes section on wikipedia. its free. its legal.

looking up university syllabi. some are on profs’ websites, some are available through the university library. there is also the Open Syllabus website which aggregates the most often mentioned books in submitted syllabi, organised by discipline or through a visual map.

what’s available on libby/borrowbox.

Archive dot org and google books/google scholar to read the previews and judge if the book is worth following up on.

i didn’t actually include any selections of my personal reading lists, but if you would like to know more you can always shoot me an ask with a specific topic in mind.

[dragonbarbie]

𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇?

modern!aegon ii targaryen x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: reader thinks aegon can never be more than a one night stand, and aegon is intent on getting her to give him a chance.

word count: 2.5k

tags: modern!au, smut, drunk!aegon having sex with sober!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, tity sucking, pussy eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

note: i very much write fanon!aegon, not the canon, show!version.

sidenote: is this lowkey inspired by my irl situationship who wont quit calling me every time he gets drunk?? maybe

it was a regular friday night for aegon. his frat was throwing a big party, and he had organised everything down to the last detail. he had a reputation to maintain after all, known affectionately as the king of parties of dragonstone university. he had already drunk his own weight in alcohol, flirted (and then proceeded to get handsy) with a couple of girls but he’d been too distracted to follow through with any of them.

his mind instead wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, at another party, where he’d met y/n. she’d been chatting to cregan stark, wearing a little black dress that hugged her in the best way imaginable. he knew, looking at her enchanting laugh at stark’s dumb joke, he had to have her. putting on his most charming smile, he’d approached her.

she’d been wary of him because of his reputation around campus (who wouldn’t be) but after a few disarming jokes as his fingertips grazed the side of her thighs, he’d managed to convince her to give him a chance.

drunken steps were then taken back to her dorm room, and they’d had what aegon could only call amazing sex.

now hold on, you have to believe him when he says amazing, alright? he’d slept with too many women to count, after a while the nights blended to the point that he couldn’t much differentiate between what having sex with each of them had felt like. so, when one such night stood out for him? it meant it had met a very high bar indeed. after all, he thought, he didn’t go around spending the night at every girl’s place.

he'd thus expected a little warmer treatment come morning and was rudely shocked at her attempting to throw him out. still, wearing his jeans in such a hurry that its button and fly was undone, unlaced shoes, bare-chested as he held his rumpled shirt in his hand, he’d had the audacity to offer her a lazy grin and promise “i’ll call you.”

“please” she’d snorted with an amused look, “everyone knows aegon targaryen is not the type to call.” taking no note of his offended expression, she’d shut the door in his face.

he’d been wondering about those words ever since. sure, she hadn’t been wrong but, hey, he’d meant the lie this time! with tits that great, ass that perfect, why wouldn’t he want a repeat of last night? he’d thought to himself.

determined to prove her wrong, he’d asked around the frat house and found out her number. but as his hand had hovered over the call button, something had stopped him. she’d caught him spot on, he realised. he wasn’t a relationship guy, and she wasn’t expecting the relationship-thing with him. perhaps it was best he left her alone.

he’d done just that, at least while sober. drunk aegon on the other hand, found it much easier to pick up the phone and dial her number.

“who is this?” there was panic and sleep in her voice, having picked up an unknown number at 2 in the morning “sweetheart! you picked up” he’d grinned, words slurring. he could practically hear the eyeroll on the other end. “aegon… to what do i owe the pleasure?” “i was just missing you.” he sighed. “sure.” nothing in her voice indicated that she believed him.

“i’m actually not far from your dorm. how about i come up with a bottle of tequila and we can… catch up?” he suggestively added. “it’s 2:14 am…. on a tuesday.” she pointed out, but her words didn’t seem to mean much to him as he replied, “so?” an exasperated sigh could be heard over the phone, “good night, aegon.” click. he stared down on the iphone in his hand in disbelief, she’d hung up on him.

he decided maybe he’d come out too strong, so the next time he texted first. he’d stared at the text for a couple of minutes, and when he saw that she was online but hadn’t bothered to text him back, he’d walked over to the nearest girl and proceeded to make out with her in the bathroom. until he was interrupted with a buzzing in his pocket, “just a minute” he’d mumbled against her lips, unbothered by her disappointed expression as he fished for the phone in his pocket hurriedly.

he saw that y/n had finally replied to his ‘u up?’ with a ‘depends.’ his brow furrowed at her response in confusion, he typed back ‘on what’.

the notification arrived with a ping. her response read ‘are u drunk?’. something told him instinctively to lie. he typed out a no, but once the message sent, he realised it had autocorrected to ‘yo’. he corrected it to a no and sent again, only to find the same mistake committed again. it was only after a string of typos had been sent, did he blink and realise autocorrect wasn’t to blame at all, his damn fingers just refused to cooperate with his inebriated brain.

ping. after receiving the string of nonsense, she finally replied ‘i got my answer.’ “aegon?” the girl in front of him looked at him impatiently, only to have him grab the handle of the bathroom door, leaving with a quick “gotta go”. he immediately called up y/n as he walked out of the party, but the call went straight to voicemail. all four times.

thus, every night aegon had gotten drunk since, he found himself being distracted by thoughts of y/n, frustrated at her refusing to engage with him.

that night too, once the clock on the wall started to look to him as if it were melting off and his feet seemed to stumble wherever he walked, his brain suddenly thought showing up to her dorm was the best idea ever.

reaching her door, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking. no response. impatient, he loudly whined “y/n! c’mon, open up!” met with more silence. he whipped his phone out, blinking at the bright screen as he concentrated to make sure it was without typos, he sent her a text, ‘m 0utsidee’. he pounded with his fist on the door one more time, before a door opened, but not the one he was standing in front of.

three doors down, y/n stood against her doorframe in her small black shorts, red tank top riding up slightly to reveal skin just above them. “wrong fucking door, idiot.” aegon grinned as he walked towards her. “you’re lucky baela’s out of town for the weekend, otherwise she would have kicked your ass for banging on her door like that.”

ignoring her, he pouted as he leaned his head against her door frame, looking too much like a wounded puppy. y/n felt a tug at her stomach at how undeniably cute he looked. “why don’t you ever pick up my calls?”

“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she asked instead of answering. “what?” he mumbled, confused. “high….why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she slowly repeated, as if talking to a two-year-old. “i’m not interested in someone who needs to be drunk to call me. i don’t want to be your booty call.” she shrugged. his lower lip jutted out further at her response, crease appearing between his brow. oh, gods, y/n found herself thinking, how could someone manage to look this pathetic and this cute at the same time.

“you’re not a booty call.” he groaned in protest. after all, there were enough girls at that party willingly throwing themselves at him, he could have been with anyone, and yet… it was her door his drunken steps had taken the path of.

“go home, aegon. it was a one-time thing. it’s not happening again.” she insisted. her words seemed to have no effect on him, as he placed a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. he bent down to her ear and whispered, his words slurring, “let me show you all the reasons that this should be more than just a ‘one-time-thing’.”

he pressed his lips to hers, softly at first. she didn’t immediately kiss him back, but the feeling of his lips on hers felt more intoxicating than whatever it was that she could smell off his breath, and she found her lips moving against his within seconds. he bit her lower lip playfully, at her response. she parted her lips to allow him to slide his tongue past them. his hand, meanwhile, slid under the material of her tank and travelled upwards, thumb pressing against her nipple as he squeezed her breast. breaking from the kiss for a second, he smirked at her, “didn’t bother wearing a bra to greet me?”. “i was preparing for bed!” she hissed in response. “excuses” he shook his head at her, teasing.

with his hand he lifted her tank to reveal her bare breasts. “aegon!” she attempted to keep her voice low, lest her neighbours wake up to the scene, “we’re in the middle of the hallway, anyone can walk in!” the idea of someone catching them only made it all the more exciting for aegon, “relax.” he told her with a laidback smile.

before she could protest, his head dipped and he captured her nipple in his mouth. a moan escaped her lips at the feeling, and she stumbled back, her back hitting her doorframe. aegon continued his tongue’s assault on her sensitive nipple, one hand gripping her waist to keep her in place, the other reaching behind her to squeeze her ass. her hand held the nape of his neck, as her head was thrown back in pleasure at his actions. she whined when he abruptly stopped.

he kneeled down and his fingers reached up, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, causing a shiver to go up her spine. chewing on her lower lip in nervousness she weakly said, “we should go inside” but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting caught made her even more wet. there was a hint of recklessness and danger in his eyes, “where’s your sense of adventure?”. he threw the clothes inside her ajar door, then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. she audibly gasped as she felt his tongue upon her already soaking pussy.

“aegon…ah!” her hand gripped his hair as his tongue played tricks on her core, her eyes rolling back till she could see stars. his grip on her thigh remained firm, and she was certain she would be waking up with a bruise. “close… so…close…” she had begun to say after a few minutes, feeling her muscles tense, when he stopped.

he stood up and started to undo his pants, freeing his length. he grabbed her by the waist, letting the tip of his cock tease her folds. she was already moaning for him, “want me to take you right here? make you scream my name, till your neighbours come checking?” she swallowed at the thought, lust overtaking her eyes.

“let’s do one thing.” he smiled as if he’d struck upon the most perfect idea, but the gleam in his eyes told y/n it couldn’t be anything good. he turned her around by her waist, hand coming to her front to rub her clit as he whispered in her ear, “you see that door?”. she knew he could only mean the door to the elevator which was the way to enter her dormitory floor. she managed a nod in response, unable to form words as his fingers pressed down on her so ruthlessly. “keep looking at it.” he commanded as he grabbed her hips back to push his cock inside her. “aegon!” she gasped at the feeling.

he entered her completely in one go, pulling out punishingly slow before pushing back in. he continued speaking as he impaled her, “someone’s gonna walk in any moment now…” he teased, “…and see you in this mess… see you bent over, taking me from behind…like a whore” the thought embarrassed her, yes, but what embarrassed her more was that she found herself almost wanting it to come true.

“even when they walk in, i won’t stop.” he threatned, his thrusts becoming faster. “you’ll be on display for everyone to see… to see how well you take my cock.”  he gathered her hair in his fist in one hand, and she felt him pulling it lightly. “yes, oh, yes!” she found herself moaning, eyes intently trained on the door. “you’d like that? of course, you would, little slut.” she only whimpered in response, his words bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “you’d love to have everyone see just how well you receive a ‘booty call’” he chuckled. she could feel herself going weak at the knees at his pace and dirty talk.

“aegon… i—ah!” pleasure spread over every inch of her body, as she came all over his cock. he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own orgasm, until he emptied inside of her with a grunt.

her legs felt wobbly as he pulled out of her, turning her back around to face him. “next time i call—” he panted as he spoke, exerted from their activities, “—pick up.” she smirked, in contrast to his dominating actions mere moments ago, his words now sounded more like a pleading request; one she felt gracious enough to grant him as his juice and her own dripped down her legs. “i will. promise.”

his pearly white teeth showed as he grinned at her response, pleased. “oh, but i’m not nearly done with you for the night, just yet.” he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he shut the door behind them as he walked back inside her dorm.

the next morning, she didn’t kick him out like the last time. she let him linger around her bed, aegon placing a trail of kisses down her body as a manner of greeting her good morning. he was needy and showed it by being as tactile with her as could be. yet she felt comfortable with his touches, allowing herself to lie with him for hours, their legs tangled. even as she bid him goodbye from her door, she had to practically tear her lips off his, neither able to get enough of the other.

she felt content as she’d shut her door behind her, leaning against it as she thought back to the night that had passed, when her phone started to ring. she picked it and smiled as she saw the name being displayed, ‘aegon (don’t pick up)’.

 “see i am the type who calls. a lot” she laughed at his words through the phone, able to hear him standing right outside the door. “and also the type who does breakfast. what do you say, brunch in an hour?”

[chil-aglia]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

What They Made Me

Be sure to read the tags on my Ao3 so you guys know what you’re getting yourselves into.

Picture above done by me. But PLEASE feel free to make your own art and idk tag me in it or something—

Warnings: Brief scene of electrocution/torture, implied PTSD, brief blood, etc

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

Dim lights flickered above, the dull sounds of machinery and voices murmuring outside was enough to stir Leo awake, groaning as he tried to focus on anything but the nausea that crept up as soon as he opened his eyes. 

“Wha…? Where…am..?” His mumbles were slurred, barely audible to others, but he recoiled when a familiar voice called out to him. “Leo! You’re awake!” Mikey exclaimed in obvious relief, making the blue masked slider blinked in confusion as to why Mikey was here with him.

His vision cleared and he tensed at the sight. His family and himself were chained up against the white walls of this large space. Leo instinctively tried to move but he winced when his left arm throbbed, glancing up he noticed his hands were also chained, making him scoff.

He still hadn’t fully recovered from his previous injury that he sustained not long ago. “Where are we?” Leo curiously asked, looking at Donnie who shrugged his shoulders. “No clue. I only woke up recently as well. But if I had to take a wild guess, I would say this has EPF written all over it.” He grumbled at the mention of the organisation.

Ah, now Leo remembered. He and Donnie were on their way to attack EPF base, but they were ambushed from behind, Leo had briefly seen a man with sunglasses holding a tranq dart before he passed out.

���Hold on, how are you guys here?” He inquired, focusing over to his other two brothers, father and the humans also chained to the wall as Raph narrowed his eyes at him, showing some sign of annoyance at him before rolling his eyes.

“Mikey and I went to go find you. We saw the portal in the alleyway.”

April quickly spoke up, nodding along. “And the rest of us went to look for all four of you!” She announces, deadpanning soon after, exhaling in defeat. “Next time let's just order pizza delivery.” She grumbles out loud, the silence following after.

Leo took another glance around at his family. Gasping with widened eyes. “Gio…where’s Giovanni?!” He demanded slightly in concern, as his father was quick to calm him down. “Safe. We left him back home. He was still asleep.” He assured but Leo bites his lower lip, uncertain of this assurance.

“And when he wakes up to see where all gone?”

That had the others flinching in eerie quietness, looking away in shame and guilt for what Giovanni could possibly think when he saw his friends and family vanished. Left him alone.

Abandoned.

“I see you’re all awake.”

A woman spoke over the speakers that were in the corners of the ceilings. Naturally they all look around in alarm at the sudden voice. “I am Dr. Brookes. We’ve met briefly before.”

Donnie and Leo growled, the video of her and Giovanni still fresh in their heads as CJ glared up at, his eyes darting around. “What do you want with us?!” He exclaimed, tugging at the chains as Dr. Brookes chuckled slyly into the microphone.

“With you and the girl? Nothing at all. But with the turtles and the rat? We want to experiment on them. See what makes them tick, what power they hold…”

She pauses and sighs out loud a second later. “And I’m hoping for my lovely turtle to come crawling back to us. To me.” Her tone was laced with amusement, Mikey immediately snapping at her voice. “You’ll never get him! He’s safe away from you.” He declared out, smirking briefly in pride but flinched at the sudden change of voice of Dr Brookes, where her voice was replaced with a man's.

“You shouldn’t be so confident in that. We have your…brother just waiting outside now.”

This had them all freeze, their blood going cold as their cold-blooded bodies could be. “No…no don’t touch him!” Raph yells, lunging forward but whatever these chains were made of, it was strong enough to hold him back. Hold him back from breaking it off the wall.

“We’ll talk again soon. We have a visitor to welcome back.” Dr. Brookes spoke up next, the intercom snapped off with an electric click, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. 

The dull hum of white noise returned, but now it sounded louder—like a countdown ticking to something terrible. Every sibling, every friend, every father in that sterile room was suddenly very aware of how cold the walls were. How inescapable the chains felt.

Leo’s breath caught in his throat.

Giovanni. He was here. Alone. In enemy hands.

“No… no, no…” Leo murmured under his breath, his mind racing, heart hammering as he pulled uselessly at the restraints. “They can’t have him. They can’t have him—!”

“Leonardo.” Splinter’s voice was low, strained. “Breathe.”

But Leo couldn’t. Not when the memory of Gio’s tired, drowsy face flashed in his mind. Of how he’d curled up peacefully that morning. The oldest among them—but too young to bear this alone. Too unstable.

“I should’ve stayed behind. I should’ve never left him…” Leo hissed, fists clenching tight against the cuffs. He couldn’t shake the image—Gio walking into a trap, or worse… being led into one.

Donnie looked up sharply. “If they manipulate him again—”

“They’ll destroy him…” Raph muttered, jaw tense. “Turn him into something he’s not.”

This had everyone look at each unsure what to do. And unsure how to save their brother.

-----

He swallowed hard, forcing the tremble in his hands to still. His breath fogged the air in front of him, short and shallow. He hadn’t realized how fast his heart was beating until now. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade that he held tightly in his hand, not because he thought it would save him, but because it was the only thing grounding him.

This was stupid. So stupid.

The dumbest thing Giovanni could have done. But he had no choice. They had his family in their grasp. Their lives.

He probably should’ve gotten some backup, but he was running on time and plus, he couldn’t involve anyone else. Not when this was his fault and he had fix it.

He stood outside the building, stranded in the middle of nowhere, late at night. He never had a chance to get a proper look at the building that kept him prisoner, that changed and forced him to do things he wasn’t proud of.

Was he scared? Absolutely…but he had to push down his feelings. For his family.

The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing the fluorescent glow of sterile hallways. The stench of antiseptic hit him like a slap to the face. For a moment, his legs faltered—phantom pain flashing across his back, his arms, his mind.

But he clenched his jaw. Steeled his breath.

Then walked in.

No turning back.

He wasn’t walking in as their test subject.

He was walking in as a brother.

Giovanni’s feet padded down the stark, sterile hallway, echoing. Every step deeper into the facility was another layer of dread curling in his gut. The cold fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, flickering like they were struggling to stay alive—just like the memories clawing at the back of his mind.

He noticed how there weren't any yokai or humans around. Perhaps they went somewhere else or left for the night. No matter, he had to focus.

He passed the old holding cells. Empty. Silent.

Except…not quite. He could feel them.

Not his family—them. The scientists. The agents. The cameras tracking his every move. Watching. Waiting. He shuddered, his mind immediately going to when he discovered that they were observing his room in this place like some lab rat.

No privacy.

He clenched his fists, eyes locked ahead. No hesitation. No weakness. That’s what they wanted—Giovanni on his knees, afraid, obedient. That was who he used to be here.

Not anymore.

A door at the end of the corridor slid open. The room beyond was wide and cold, more lab than cell. Giovanni stepped through the threshold—and stopped.

There they were.

His family.

Leo. Mikey. Donnie. Raph. April. CJ. His dad.

All of them chained to the walls like animals, uninjured from the looks of it, but their eyes were wide. Struggling against reinforced binds. 

Guilt hit him like a train, and for a second he couldn’t breathe.

“Giovanni?” Leo’s voice broke with disbelief. “No—”

“Gio, what the hell are you doing?!” Donnie barked, thrashing against his chains.

Mikey looked scared. Truly scared.

Raph growled like he could break through the steel just on rage alone. “Get outta here!” He announces, begging for his older brother to listen.

But Giovanni didn’t move. He couldn’t.

The air split with static as a voice echoed through the intercoms. Smooth. Mocking.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Giovanni’s stomach turned. “Dr Brookes.”

A figure stepped out from behind a panel of glass. Dr. Brookes, perfectly composed in her pristine lab coat, the same smug glint in her eye that haunted him. “You came back just like I knew you would.” She purred. “Did you miss us? Did you miss your Mother?”

Giovanni felt like running the moment she uttered the word ‘Mother’ to him. A cold reminder of her little pet's name she gave to herself, what she used to manipulate him.

Taking in a deep breath he gulps down the disgust. “Let them go.”

“Oh, Giovanni.” She laughed. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

His hand flexed out the sword he had a death grip on, her eyes followed it, unconcerned.

“You’re here because we let you be. You’ve always belonged to us. You were just playing pretend out there with your little pets.”

Giovanni glared, his voice cracking slightly.

“They’re my family.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what are they going to think when they find out what you did here? What we made you into? How many have you hurt?”

He faltered. Just for a second. But it was enough.

“Give yourself to us again.” She continued, voice like poison in his ear. “Willingly. Cooperate. And maybe I’ll let them walk out of here alive.”

“Don’t do it, Gio!” CJ snapped. “You don’t owe them anything!”

Giovanni’s jaw clenched. His eyes swept the room. He could feel every gaze on him. Begging. Pleading.

He stepped forward.

Dr. Brookes’ eyes gleamed in triumph. “There’s my good boy.” She cooed, watching with her planning eyes as Giovanni drops to his knees, dropping his sword as he hesitantly bumps his head against her stomach.

“Please…I’ll come with you.” He begs quietly, ignoring the shouts of his family. He was afraid that if he looked at them, he might actually start breaking down sobbing. He recoiled when he felt her nails gliding the back of his head, humming to herself in thought.

However, she didn’t smile this time. Not really.

Instead, she gave a quiet nod to someone out of sight—and everything went dark as Giovanni was hit from behind.

He gags in shock, coughing and falling to the side as he twitches, eyes blurred as he looks up. John Bishop stood over him, stoic as ever as he and Dr. Brookes conversed with each other, but their voices were muted.

Giovanni gazed at his family, blurry but he could see them shouting and lunging in the chains, they were calling for him, but Giovanni had no strength to answer as he closed his eyes.

The last thing he heard was Leo screaming his name.

-----

When Giovanni awoke, he had hoped he was back home. That this was all a dream, a terrible nightmare that he can wake up from. But when he took a look around the room, he realised that he was still there. In the EPF base.

He knew because he managed to recollect what the walls looked like.

Plain, white and cold.

He winced at the throbbing at the back of his head, rubbing at the spot when he remembered that John Bishop knocked him out.

My family!

He quickly stood up, running towards the door and pushing at it. But of course he couldn’t budge it open. He clicked his tongue, quickly gazing down at him. He was still in his gear, they for once left that in for him. Why? He wasn’t sure. And he also didn’t care.

His sword was placed on the floor, he went over and picked it up, inspecting it in vase it was broken in some way. But it seemed intact. He sighs and goes back to the door, wedging his blade in the cracks and trying to pry them open like he had a crowbar.

But it wouldn’t budge, and Giovanni couldn’t risk breaking the sword. He’d had no protection otherwise if someone came in. He sighs, tiredly placing his head against the wall, closing his eyes. What was he doing…? His family was in danger, and he just had to go ahead and get caught.

No…he asked to be taken back. He should’ve expected this outcome. Why was he so useless? 

Giovanni let out a shaky breath, the chill of the wall seeping into his green scarred skin as his forehead pressed against it. His plastron rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, the cold sterile scent of the EPF facility doing nothing to soothe his rising panic.

What had he done?

He clenched his jaw, eyes still shut. He could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears, loud and frantic, a physical reminder that time was slipping away. His family—his brothers, his father, April, CJ—were somewhere in this building. Probably restrained. Probably already being used.

And he had handed himself over willingly.

Idiot.

He pulled back from the wall, gripping his sword tighter. His eyes, dull with guilt, swept across the corners of the room. There had to be something. A weakness. A vent, a panel, a camera. Anything.

But the room was clean. Too clean.

They knew exactly what they were doing. They knew how he operated. They’d built this room for him.

Giovanni's fingers twitched on the hilt of his blade, knuckles whitening as anger started to burn through the regret.

They think I'm still their weapon.

He looked down at his reflection in the polished steel of his blade. Tired eyes stared back, full of fear—but beneath it, something darker stirred. “They’re not getting away with this.” He muttered under his breath. “Not again.”

He turned sharply, pacing. He needed a plan. His instincts screamed to act—to fight, to escape—but this wasn’t about just surviving anymore. This was war.

And they had his family.

Suddenly, a hiss sounded from the door. Giovanni froze, blade snapping up to the ready. The locks disengaged slowly—mockingly—and the door slid open. Two heavily armored yokai stood on either side. Between them, a familiar figure walked in, hands behind her back, expression calm.

Dr. Brookes.

“You’re awake.” She said pleasantly, as if she were greeting an old friend. Giovanni didn’t answer. His grip on his sword remained firm, feet shoulder-width apart, ready to strike. She glanced down at the blade, then back up at him. “Come now, you wouldn’t harm your Mother would you?” She grins, making Giovanni falter for a second, before he glares.

“You’re not my mother.”

She chuckles at him, “No? You came back. You chose this. No tranqs, no cuffs. Just…surrendered.”

“I came to save them.”

“And now you’re ours. Again.”

Giovanni took a step back from her words, taking in a deep breath before slowly stepping forward, “You’re making a mistake…free my family, let us go. And you’ll never hear from us again.” He somewhat pleads, but she shakes her head at him, amused.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She clicks her fingers, the guards automatically rushing in and grabbing Giovanni who sharply hisses, his sword being ripped away from him as they forced him to kneel, holding him down as Giovanni struggled to fight back, looking up as Dr. Brookes smirked down at him.

She crouched to his height, sliding a hand up his plastron and to his shoulder, he shuddered under her touch, panic rising slightly as she stops under his chin, tilting his head up to look at her.

“Now that I have you and your family…we can finally weaponize you.”

She turns to a glass wall, as did Giovanni, following her gaze as lights from the other side of the room turn on. His breathing hitched in his throat as he watched Dr. Avery and John Bishop standing near his chained-up family and friends.

“What are you…?” Giovanni mumbles, eyes wide in fear as he tried to get closer to them, but the yokai firmly gripped him down, the yellow-bellied wooded hissing at the sudden pain.

His pupils shrank at the sight — all of them were there. Leo. Raph. Donnie. Mikey. April. CJ. Splinter. Everyone he saw earlier there. Hauled up by chains, against the wall like exhibits in a twisted science fair.

They were all awake, growling and glaring at Avery and Bishop who gave them no attention. “Gio!” Mikey’s weak voice cracked through the glass, his family finally seeing him as Leo struggled in the restraints. “Let my brother go you sicko!” He seethed.

Giovanni in response tried to lunge forward, only to be yanked back harshly by the yokai guards. His knees scraped against the floor, muscles flaring as he growled low in his throat, frustration and desperation brewing into something wild.

“Let me go!” He roared. “They have nothing to do with this!”

Dr. Brookes didn’t even flinch. Instead, she raised a hand, tapping the glass gently as she smiled at the sight of their guests. “Ah, family reunions. So, heartwarming.” She hums out, utterly delighted by the scene.

“You don’t need them.” Giovanni barked. “I’m the one you want. Just—just let them go!”

Dr. Brookes turned toward him, arching a brow as though amused by a child throwing a tantrum. “Oh, but Giovanni, you don’t understand. But not to worry, just let Mother take care of all this.” She assured with a feign smile. Stepping toward the glass and tapping at it.

Then came the screams of his family, Avery and Bishop using electrical sticks to zap their bodies, where they seized up and cried out in horror and agony.

“Stop!” Giovanni’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I’m begging you, leave them alone!”

“But begging isn’t strength.” Dr. Brookes said gently, crouching beside him again. “That’s your flaw, Giovanni. You're still too soft. Still too human. Well, half human and all…with your DNA. But don’t worry—” She leaned closer, lips near his inner ear, “—we're going to fix that.” With a tilting head she gestured for Bishop and Avery to electrocute the guests again.

The lights from the zapping made Giovanni’s head spin as he watched them all crumble under the electric shocks.

They’re getting tortured. Because of him. And he can’t do anything about it because he’s weak.

Pulse.

Fragile.

Pulse, pulse.

Save them. Get up and save them.

The lights flicker and Dr. Brookes and the yokai look around in confusion, her eyes focusing on Giovanni as she broadens her eyes.

He was glowing.

Save them. Defeat the enemy.

Pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse—

“Get the tranquilizers!” She shrieked. “Now!”

But it was too late.

The lights exploded in a flash of violent yellow. Screams erupted from the guards as a shockwave of Ninpo burst from Giovanni’s body, hurling them across the room like rag dolls. Glass cracked. Sirens wailed.

The entire base shook like it was caught in the throat of an earthquake.

In the other room, Mikey’s breath was caught in his throat. “It’s Gio…” He whispered, awe and horror mingling in his voice. Bishop let out a grumble of annoyance, racing out the room. Dr. Avery ran out as well, but didn’t follow the agent. Panicked, confused and terrified.

Giovanni eventually calmed down, panting as he stood up slowly and predatory-like, his eyes remained white, turning his body to Dr. Brookes who groaned as she rubs her head, blood flowing down her face as she stares up at Giovanni.

“What’s wrong doc?”

Giovanni gets closer to her, as though he was taking his time as she shook at the sight. His entire aura was different.

He was a monster.

Giovanni grunts when a bullet grazes his shoulder, hissing he turns around to spot John Bishop, gun in hand and aimed at him. “I always knew you’d be dangerous.” He huffed out, as Giovanni clicked his tongue.

Giovanni slowly bent down, picking up his sword as he gripped it firmly.

“Dangerous?” He echoed the word, his voice low, warped, and vibrating with power. 

“You wanted a weapon…”

His head tilted—unnaturally, predator-like.

“…Now you’re getting one Bishop.”

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

Haha I’m in danger—

I APOLOGISE FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT WERE MADE, I TYPE PRETTY FAST AND OFTEN DON’T SEE THEM UNTIL I ACTUALLY PUBLISH THE CHAPTER. THEN I’D TRY AND FIX ANY MISTAKES WHEN I SEE ONE.

Tumblr - 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

Ao3 - 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

First chapter here

Next chapter here

Taglist:

@fluffyyyfrog9000

@turtl3sk3tch3s

@katiemaycreate

@kameko-is-random

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

WIP title ask meme

Prompt: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

-

I was poked to do this months ago, twice at least - once by @docholligay and I think the second was @jeejyboard, but I can't find the tag for the life of me. SORRY. I felt like doing something a bit more meta today re:writing and post about The Process, and this was a perfect excuse - thanks for thinking of me. So here's some actual effort! I went and dug deep, trawled through some really old stuff, which was fun. I write and scribble down way, way more than I actually polish and post (which I assume is probably normal, but who knows). 

General info, for whoever is interested: I mostly use Google Docs with offline backups for fic writing, as I shift between computers a ton, and I put fandom tags at the start of my filenames for organisation. I have a ton of prompt/meme/ask/event collection files - for example, the very latest: "[BG3, STRAHD, SM] Fic Prompts 2024". In these I jot down both the prompts people send or that are listed and the ideas/outlines/notes for each, then when I really get going with a certain fic I spin it off into a separate document. 

I hate coming up with titles and usually do that last, so most of my document names are silly references for my own amusement or just a boring old brief description of the main concept. For instance, my latest posted fic Cerimonia Compedum was for most of its WIP-hood known simply as "[BG3] Tadpoled Isobel". Sometimes I keep different versions/revisions/parts of the same WIP in different files, and if that's the case I've grouped them here. Note that for simplicity's sake this post includes my "solo" fic only, no collabs or coauthored stuff, of which there is also a bunch. 

Some of these are ancient and hit me in the face with "12 years ago" timestamps. Some ficlets will never make it out of the mixed prompt plot bunny dumping grounds into their own doc. I think Sailor Moon 10-ish years ago was the one outlier fandom where I actually wrote most of my concepts out fully and posted them. The ol' brain is currently overproducing stuff for the more recent BG3 flavoured moon lesbians (and no, that ship name will never stop throwing my HaruMichi-loving ass for a loop). Note that some of the SU WIPs on the list I've already posted about here, here, here, and here.

Obviously all of these vary wildly in terms of completion level, word count, refinement, and age (and capitalisation, apparently). So yeah, here's the list, roughly sorted by fandom - ask away, if you feel like it!

[BG3] Moon-chosen, Moon-guided | Moon-chosen, Moon-guided - Part III [BG3] Cerimonia Alārum | ISOBEL TO THE RESCUE AU [BG3] Tremulous Cadence followup | The Return of the Moon Daughter [BG3] Wizard Tower AU | Aylin & Rolan stuff [BG3] Karlach/Minthara Act 2 conclusion aka why are paladins Like That [BG3] I'm having something very strong indeed

[STRAHD] The d'Avenir Treatise verse tidbits [STRAHD] Road Trippin' [STRAHD] In-character notes & ficlets

[SU] eeEEeeeeEE BISMUTH | Bismuth ficlets | Like talking to a wall | Muse. Galatea. Suffering. [SU] SU Daemons HDM AU [SU] The Adolescence of Rose Quartz | But I don't think anyone turns into a car  [SU] Freedom To And Freedom From | Pearlrose Fixit | i love suffering!!! [SU] Forge Showdown AU [SU] Pearl Playing the Field TM | All I need in this life of sin is me and my pearlfriend [SU] The Grand Aventurine Heist (Not Really Grand And Only Slightly A Heist) | oh no who let Rose read the Scarlet Pimpernel

[SM] Future Vision blatantly ripped me off THANKS REBECCA | PUU fic [SM] Outers fall of SilMil | michific | The End is the Beginning is the End

[DS9] Kira fic bits

[TLOK] Five Times Kya Healed Lin and One Time She Couldn't | Kyalin fluff [TLOK] R.C. Noire | Lin BAMFong

[WATCHMEN] Silhouette fic bits

-

That's it! I don't think I have a single person that I know writes fic left that hasn't already been tagged in this, so feel free to do it (again) if it strikes your fancy.

[squirrelno2]

Back at it again with my Jedi oc, this time introducing a clone to be her pining lesbian counterpart. For context this is set incredibly early in the clone wars so Jedi and clones really haven't learned anything about each other as groups except what Kaminoans told them and then whatever they've picked up as individuals/through the grapevine. and also '25 (name to be revealed in the course of me writing this fic but also she'll have a character tag on this post) has Issues. that too.

It was a strange number for a squad. CT-1525 had been expecting a normal squad of nine plus herself as the lieutenant, with a sergeant to answer to and everything. Instead, she was assigned to a Jedi who’d be running relief missions with only a small squad, and she’d be the Jedi’s primary point person. Not that ’25 hated the idea of being in charge, but it wasn’t what she’d expected at all. Especially when the Jedi, General Tayonissa Miran, didn’t show up on time.

“So if she’s not here after fifteen minutes, do we just go back to Kamino?” asked one of ‘25’s new subordinates. CT-907. She’d never met them before today, but she suspected they wouldn’t get along. 907 was obviously cavalier about everything.

“Enough,” ’25 said. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

She could feel other clones and the natborns who worked here in the Jedi Temple hangar watching them. She wished they could just board the ship assigned to them, but that was for General Miran to order.

At last, one of the bustling figures in the hangar came for them. A Mirialan woman with a cloud of black hair and muted purple and fawn-coloured robes sprinted toward them, then paused a few feet away to draw herself upright. She caught CT-1525 looking and smiled sheepishly.

“Hello,” she said as she approached. “I’m sorry I was late. You’re, uh – CT-1525?”

“Yes, General Miran,” said CT-1525. She was already at attention, but she tried to stand a little straighter anyway. Her new general’s face quirked with something – amusement? Disgust? ’25 had her experience with both. She didn’t really like either one.

“I’m not a general,” Miran said. “At least, I don’t think so. Considering you’re the only ones reporting to me.”

“You’re a Jedi, sir,” ’25 said. “And no padawan.”

Miran stared at ’25 for a long moment. ’25 took the chance to stare back at her. The general – Jedi, whatever – had skin that was such a deep, dark green it seemed to sparkle. Diamonds were tattooed on both cheeks, in a pattern that ’25 imagined had been symmetrical before whatever had scarred her and left her right eyelid drooping over a damaged eyeball. Short, wild curls fell into General Miran’s eyes, and ’25 wondered if she would permit a suggestion about tying it back on the battlefield.

“This army has serious organisational issues,” General Miran said at last. ’25 was so startled she nearly laughed. She choked it back just in time. General Miran shook her head, turning away from ’25 to look at the others.

“Tell you what,” she said, pitching her low, husky voice up so every clone could hear her. “Let’s skip the title confusion altogether. It’s just Tayo.”

“Sir,” ’25 said. “We can’t – that would be –“

“I promise if we have to look like a normal, put-together army team you can call me ‘general’ all you like,” she said, patting ’25 on the chest. ’25 stared down at the place where General Miran’s hand had just connected with her armour, unsure what to say or do.

“We have regulations,” ’25 said feebly. “The chain of command –“

“They wanted Jedi to run this war for a reason, right?” said General Miran. “So here’s some Jedi wisdom. I am not more important than you. You’re all here in case something goes wrong, or the assignments I get would put me in over my head on my own. And probably so the rest of the GAR can keep an eye on me.”

“Sir –“ ’25 protested. Miran held up a hand.

“Let me finish,” she said. ’25 slammed her mouth shut, mortified.

“I am not more important than you,” Miran said again. “I’ll watch your backs. I’m happy to have you watch mine. But our job is protecting all the people out there, and making sure they live through a war they never asked for. So if you have to, you leave me behind. This bowing and scraping ‘general’ nonsense won’t cut it. You need to know I’m no different than you.”

’25 had heard of things like this already. Self-sacrificing Jedi, putting clones under their command above their own well-being. Her brother was serving one such general right now, General Windu.

“That has to cut both ways, sir,” ’25 said. “If one of us gets hurt, and it’s between us and the people we serve.”

Miran sucked in a sharp breath, staring at ’25. ’25 hardly dared breathe. She didn’t regret saying it, but she knew she’d overstepped. Not to mention the squad had heard. If any of them disagreed with ’25, she’d just signed the general up for a very awkward position.

“Then we should hope it never comes down to that,” Miran said at last. “Because you’re my responsibility, too.”

So are you a general or not, sir? ’25 didn’t say it. She’d pushed her luck enough for today.

With a sharp intake of breath, Miran smiled at her squad.

“Well, come on, then,” she said. “Let’s get started!”

[windupaidoneus]

i return. office jobs time. BUT AGAIN!

so emet isn't one to get attached as easily as hilde is. hilde has a big heart & big emotions, a tendency to think he can befriend Anybody if he tries hard enough, even the most antisocial of coworkers! or well. that IS the reputation he has & he is a bit. well. unpleasant. not a friendly resting face, doesnt go out of his way to chat up anybody at the workplace, more likely to make biting remarks under his breath than show someone even a drop more generosity & gratefulness than they "deserve" for a task well done - a curt 'thank you' usually is all one can get out of him. which tbf he is constantly drowning in work so spending too much time on socialising would!! ruin his workflow! is he incredibly stressed? Well Yes Of Course

but the thing is hilde is like. very problem solvy brain. he sees a problem someone else has & is struggling to solve & hes like >:[ i can protect you (from the unsolvable problem). & while initially emet would perceive it as meddling from a tolerable & efficient but ultimately A Coworker coworker it does give him pause when hilde actually solves his problem. [ said problem is, in all likelihood, something in the vein of "Something has come up that is going to make me need to reorganise everything in an entirely different manner & it's too much to process at once for me to work out when i'm already swimming in caffeine, ibuprofen, two hours of sleep & five impending deadlines (he's not a slacker he just takes on more responsibilities than is reasonable)". hildegarde's not good at organising his own affairs but let it be for someone else's sake & all of a sudden he's a master at working things out in a timely manner too! ]

so. he comes to hold hildegarde in higher respect through that. not that he disliked him before that but he was mostly neutral. sort of positive? definitely found Some amusement in seeing hilde fumble the act of walking & there might've been some endearment in it but like. he doesn't form connections that easily. not without prompt

after that i feel like they kind of. rely on each other's insight more. well moreso emet, bc he's the one who's been helped (& hilde. well. imagine feeling comfortable asking for help 😂😂😂 he'll get there though) so he's like. there's this reliable guy. i can get his opinion or assistance on things if they give me too much trouble. not a fan of asking but he does it so naturally & without really paying much mind to it that it doesn't feel like i'm asking for help that much so it's fine. <- also bad at asking for help but it's a pride ( ��️‍🌈? 🤨) thing for him

the like, trigger for hilde asking for help pretty much, is uhh... well. perhaps it is a little cliché (idk i don't read fic or anything. im gleaming the aura of these fic tags & websites from afar) but who DOESNT WANT CLICHE! right? it's fun! anyway hilde (points) is horrible at taking care of himself this remains true in any universe. is he staying way too late at his desk? of course. does he have my mental illness soup? obviously. let's embark upon a journey of "here he is, it's past midnight, he's exhausted & desperately trying to finish something BEFORE the deadline day but the executive is dysfunctioning + it's late so his brain is being not so kind & he's getting really overwhelmed just sitting with his own thoughts. in walks the only other guy who'd stay at work this late for similar reasons except hes actually got it handled a little better. he is now being (very delicately bc it's more implied than "you should do that") encouraged to drop it & just go home". isn't it fucked up when you start caring about someone who was kinda just there for the longest time & now you're walking them home at one in the morning? lol

during the whole time post hilde helping emet there was like. more communication between them ofc. not at all to the point of texting each other outside of Work Stuff but at Job they didnt exclusively talk about job stuff. ykw i even imagine hilde would on occasion come to gossip about a coworker they both have some beef with (hello thancred this is you) which hilde knows bc of emet's snippy remarks, & well emet did the same. & they would end up trying to sync their breaks so they could chat over their respective hot beverages & preferably with no one else taking their break at the same time. that was bonding lmao. at that point they would refer to each other as pleasant acquaintances but they are kind of already friends. it's just that neither of them will outright call the other that without being given indication that Is the case. emet doesn't really think about it that much unless asked & hilde doesn't want to be presumptuous. in all likelihood a third party is gonna have to ask emet about it so they can be Officially Friends. but they are friends at that time.

do i think they fucked on the Late Work Night? well. maybe. who am i to know really. (no. however likely emet had to stay over bc sleepy & upset hilde is clingy hilde. he literally could not leave. emet had the next day off it's Fine hilde even made breakfast & went out to the bakery to get him some pastries as an apology)

something that makes emet realise he's come to really care for hilde is probably learning hilde's beef w thancred is bc they like, were kinda together kinda not for a time? but thancred's nature TM makes it that it was impossible for it to work & also he has a competitive nature that hilde cannot stand. & suddenly emet feels a looot more comfortable getting annoyed at him for the smallest, most unimportant shit LMAO. i imagine elidibus is also one of the famed coworkers in that beautiful au (& someone emet would be more familiar with overall) & he's like. i did not expect you to have such strong feelings on someone you're never actually having to interact with directly. & emet's just shrugging. because it's actually the exact amount of beef he should have thank you very much

meanwhile on hilde's side of things shtola is praising his ingenuity in using his history with some other guy to get closer to guy who dislikes said some other guy. & hilde has to defend himself & assure her that is NOT his intent (she is just fucking with him. of course she is. she just also finds it funny when thancred has beef w ppl) (thancred & hilde are still friends hilde is just the gossipper & the bitcher. once again we shan't forget he is me in a lot of regards)

thancred voice oh so you're courting that prick over there by talking shit about me?? hilde voice i am NOT courting him. however i am talking shit about you yea sorry i remembered that time we played mario kart & you sat on me to make me lose & got mad. thancred voice if you were trying to get with anyone else i would probably forgive you considering the circumstances. but not HIM! hilde voice i am NOT TRYING TO GET WITH HIM!!

but he is. admitting it would make him feel shallow though. he did not befriend beautiful emet for the sake of kissing him of course. but well. impostor syndrome & the whole... yknow... thing where queer- is prince next to me??? hold on. (tabs into the game) (tabs out) yup hes joined me on the bench awesome. where was i. yea thing where queer ppl feel like their attraction is inherently predatory bc of Socieeetyyy. if you think i dont include societal issues in my writing WRONG! a world without homophobia sounds ideal but i would not write about an ideal world. i'd have nothing to write about if the world was ideal. so one of the many issues hilde has to deal with is insecurities regarding the legitimacy of his ✨ blossoming feelings ✨ for the handsome coworker who smells good & is very tall & has been really kind to him & they share opinions on important stuff & have decent banter on other stuff that never feels like an actual Fight is gonna happen about it just friendly bickering & did i mention he smells good & oh god his wings could wrap him up in a hug like a blanket NOOOO don't think about it it's Bad you're a CREEP! <- is this relatable to me? well maybe. SIGH

emet... ack. he's probably not really thinking about romance as a baseline. married to his work kinda guy. his work has started involving this one weird deerguy whom he's more or less befriended [as npc i shan't yet name would tease him about] more & more though. maybe it's time to think about settling down. <- shan't be named npc teases him saying shit like that for SURE it's the kind of thing where. ok these paragraphs are not chronological they go TOGETHER okay it's IMPORTANT to note that. these two would have smth similar going to like. what i've said about... other versions of them let's say. where they get like really close but don't Talk about it. they spend more time together outside of work & work functions ("ah, so it's a date then!" teases the npc. emet rolls his eyes), hang out at each other's place, maybe even go to a concert together if anything catches either of them's fancy & they don't want to go somewhere alone, they probably share a bed more often than not when spending the night together. why do they spend the night together? could've gone out for drinks & gone home together for Safety (or they're both piss drunk & walked home leaning against each other to try & keep themselves standing LMAO no chance for either of them to THEN go home to their own place without just collapsing somewhere on the street), emet's decided to clean up hildes place because mr depression over there has trouble doing it himself but he had to come over after work so it got late, or Just Because. plenty of reasons for them to spend time together. & they do share a bed yeah. cuddle even. maybe more even. what's a little making out between friends? no big deal

it'd be during all that that hilde becomes aware of his own feelings rather than before entirely. & he fully thinks it's all him & there's no chance at all of reciprocation. It Haunts Him that he feels so predatory & evil for still going along with all this after realising his feelings (& in the UNLIKELY event they may be reciprocated what if his own feelings aren't real? what if he's being MANIPULATIVE for ATTENTION & AFFECTION? i mean. you know how it is with. mental illness). he probably has some pretty bad mental crises about it. & one of them is probably the catalyst for them getting together proper lmao. i would go Into It more but i am. once again getting tired. & also sharing info about my characters at their Worst makes me feel so vulnerable HFJKHGDJSG plus i mean... i do retain some self consciousness abt the #marysueish nature of things. ill get over it i promise. & there will be more furry modern au words. after i sleep. i still have not gotten to the date activities. fuck. WELL! sad

final message to the world (in this specific reblog) though is that emet is aware of his own feelings probably around the same time hilde becomes aware of his own & he just. keeps going along to see how long it'll take for hilde to Say something. if he says something at all. otherwise he is perfectly fine continuing like this forever <- lying to himself he is finding himself to be yearning for it & for it to be Official so he can also (rarely) express affection more overtly with words too but he pushes it at the back of his mind to pretend that yeah hes totally cool with things being implied & unsaid he is SO lying. he is SO fucking lying things being unclear stress him the fuck out too. also being able to introduce this guy he really likes & respects as his Partner would make him feel like a god & he wants that so bad. there. the final

first you're not horrible and in fact I care about you deeply and dearly, second!! Tell me about that furry modern AU i've seen you post a bit about I think? the one where they work office jobs. If you have anything you wanna say about that :] or um. Tell me hilde and emet's favourite date activities !

green. sneef. i hold ur kind words so close to my heart. always. even when i feel bad!! which is saying!! u know how it is with brain bad...

& of course i can tell u about my Epic Furry Modern AU where they work office jobs!!!!! it's one i haven't actually pondered TOO much yet but the beautiful thing abt thinking is that it's something u can do & then u have thoughts. isnt it beautiful

it would be separate from my Regular Modern AU which has its own lore. in this one they are really. coworkers. to start with. this one actually started off bc i was designing a fursona for hilde & the image came to me of him.. well hold on. this

^ this is him looking up over his shoulders while Handsome Kind of standoffish Smells good fuckkkk he smells GOOD coworker (though the way i see it it's more similar to like, when two companies work together? & they're from diff. companies basically. yeah) reaches over his head to grab something from the shelf he was sorting. & well emet is an Owl so he has Big Feathery Arms kind of like a cape... so in that scenario hilde is kind offf getting enveloped in that. not really bc emet isnt touching him but. yeah. if this hapepend to me id just die homosexual style i can promise you this

i think magic exists in this universe however we still need desk workers yk. magic doesnt, err, magically erase bureaucracy. Sad! theyre both full of magical potential but yknow when ppl either have a lot of skill but cant get hired for anything relevant to them so they settle for some nothing job OR the thing theyre really good at doesnt pay well so they go for smth that doesnt align w their preferences for the sake of living comfortably financially even if it means work is hell on their mind? them. hilde is the one who cant get hired for smth he likes & emet is the one going for a job that pays good rather than a job that suits what he likes doing. though of course he does get really really into the managing & organising aspect of Office Worker due to le autism. no way he isnt a manager of some sort he is NOT at the bottom of the ladder in any universe. i wouldnt say hilde is at the bottom of the ladder either bc he DOES have good skills & is generally a very applied worker (also idk im really not gunning for them having an unbalanced dynamic as coworkers, same company or not) but he definitely brushes his job off as not that important if asked what he does

emet probably has a sort of Reputation that makes him sound unapproachable but in the few interactions theyve had hes been a very reliable person to work with so hilde isnt particularly deterred from maybe trying to make friends for that reason. hes just.. socially awkward & anxious to start with. the moment their other coworkers (who hilde is actually like, decently friends with, likely one of the scions who mightve even been his friend before he started working there too. hell, could be a zero! or two even) catch that hes trying to befriend the guy with the Reputation theyyy try to orchestrate ways for them to work alongside each other more lmao. or like ohhh shucks i left xyz in the office over there can you go get it for me since youre nearby </3 which is entertaining for everyone in the know to watch.

they do get to work more as time goes on bc i feel like hilde would be doing like... communications stuff. great for the social anxiety lmao. & so relaying info & working out how the companies can better work w each other would be at least partly on him. he'd be involved in that i thinks. & ofc that would also involve the ppl in higher positions. fuck iahve so amny more ideas but im actually falling asleep in my seat remind me to rb with more tomorrow + the date activities ahhh

[fizzyxcustard]

I Have Time.

Part 1 can be found here

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pining, smut, insecurity

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine telling Guy about your 21st century Christmas traditions.” Part 2.

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Requested by @sydmarchsstuff

I'm going to sound like a broken record, as usual, but thank you to all of you who regularly engage with my fics. I appreciate it more than you know. :)

The knock at your door had completely broken the spell from around you and Guy. The two of you moved over to your small table, which you noticed that Guy had already set and he began plating the food. 

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you told him. 

Guy merely smirked at you and then pulled your chair out for you. “Would you like your shawl? You’re shaking.” 

As the spell had been broken from around you, you had never even noticed the temperature. Your mind was too pre-occupied with this gorgeous man before you. He aroused you in so many ways, not just physically, but also emotionally. Those icy eyes held so many negative emotions, and whenever in his company, something made you feel sad for him. 

Before you could answer and Guy had got your shawl and was placing it around your shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands lingered on your shoulders for a couple of seconds and then slipped away. The truth was this: you had always found it impossible to read men and know their intentions. Was Guy really interested in you for more than just friendship? 

In his own seat, Guy remained silent and still, watching your reaction to the meal he had organised. But you remained closed, your shoulders and back straight, your face straight. He sighed and tightened his fist, not realising that you had noticed him. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked. 

“No, it isn’t,” Guy growled. His jaw was clenched, and his own uncertainty and indecision was driving him mad. He thought back to pursuing Marian; that had been easier. He had always known that she would never love him, and that somehow spurred him on to try and change her, presenting a challenge. You, however, were so difficult to read, being a different creature entirely. When he had touched your hand earlier, by the fire, you had not moved. Was that his sign? 

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, feeling immediate guilt rise in your chest, and you had no idea what you were feeling guilt for. “Please, Guy, I would never judge you for telling me your thoughts.” 

His gaze locked on yours from across the table. “Most women I’ve encountered and their intentions I can read. Yours I cannot. You confuse me.”

“My intentions in what way? As in, romance?” you asked, your eyes wide in shock at this sudden admission. To think that Guy of Gisborne had power and persuasion, beneath all that was a deep vulnerability. 

“You could call it that, yes,” he replied simply. 

You sighed and looked down into your lap. 

Guy watched you, and noticed a very slight smile on your face. What did that suggest? Amusement? Happiness? 

“Why do you smile?” he asked bluntly. 

“Because I’ve felt the same way about you. I’ve been here a few months now, and I thought maybe I’d be able to read you because you’re not like a lot of the men I’m used to.” 

Guy smirked. “Is that so? Indulge me.” 

“I don’t mean it in a bad sense at all. Far from it. I’ve never really been what men want back where I come from. I began to think you were the same as that.” 

“So, how am I different to these men then?” 

“It’s hard to explain, Guy, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

Guy got up from the table and stepped around it towards you. He leaned down, feeling that intense draw to you, an invisible connection. It beckoned him closer to you, and then he stopped. 

You reached for the edge of his leather tunic, which had two fastenings open at the top. You grabbed the edge of the tunic and pulled him toward you, stopping for a second so your faces were no more than two inches apart. 

Guy inhaled sharp and then kissed you hard. The two of you succumb to that heat which had been rising for months now. The kiss deepened and your tongues met. You got to your feet and the two of you, still kissing, fumbled over to the bed. 

With shaking hands, in anticipation and excitement, you unfastened Guy’s leather tunic, peeling it from him. He threw it to the floor, thankful to get rid of it. And then you continued kissing. 

Once completely disrobed, Guy lay over you, kissing you. The kisses were less forceful now, and instead were full of love. You brushed your hand up into his hair, lacing your fingers in the raven locks. 

Guy’s hand trailed down your warm body, followed by his lips. “I’ve waited so long for you,” he groaned. 

“You have me now,” you replied. 

The two of you made love slowly, tenderly, deeply. There was no rush in either of you. Everything was about savouring the moment, remaining joined for as long as you could be. 

Guy rocked against you, his head at your neck. Your hands were locked in his and your legs were closed around his waist. With each deep thrust, you felt him press against that pleasure point. It made the waves mount as if each time he hit that spot, it flicked a switch, increasing the electricity. It was building, like a pressure in the very base of your stomach. 

Every sensation that Guy felt was pure pleasure, warmth and love. He was encased in you, protected by you. For a second he pulled his lips from your neck and looked into your eyes, smiling as he did so. His whole heart told him that you were his home. Guy had never known a true home, until now. He continued thrusting into you as you kept your gazes locked, and he watched your smile change, transforming your expression into one of wonder; eyes shut, mouth open. This was his sign to thrust that little quicker, and as he did so, he saw your expression mirror your ecstasy even more intensely. His name slipped off your tongue, becoming caught up in a groan. Your body shook around him, and he could feel you tightening his girth. 

As the orgasm reached its peak and died away, you opened your eyes, feeling aftershocks flicker down your legs. And it was here that you knew Guy had also reached his climax. His eyes closed and you watched him come closer, putting his lips to yours. He groaned into your kiss. You held him as he rode that beautiful wave out and then let him slip down onto your chest, panting. 

Guy closed his eyes, that sense of being at home so intense now. Your heartbeat pulsed against his ear, gradually slowing the longer he remained there, the two of you skin to skin. 

The afterglow lingered around the two of you for a few minutes, until Guy spoke. He lifted his head from your chest and looked at you, brushing a stray piece of sweaty hair from your brow. “You have yet to tell me exactly where you’re from,” he said, smirking. “I was hoping that this may have warmed you into trusting me enough to tell me where you are from.” 

“You won’t believe me, Guy. I know you won’t,” you replied defensively and pulled yourself up the bed so you were sat up. 

Guy shifted beside you and laced his hand in yours. “Trust me, please.” 

You sighed and focused on him, finding him the most handsome man you had ever seen. And somehow he was now yours. “I’m from the future.” 

Guy stared at you blankly. 

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” 

Guy furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said I didn’t believe you. You’ve assumed immediately what I’m thinking. It’s hardly something that you hear on a regular occasion, is it? So how do you expect me to react?” 

You continued. “I’m from the year 2022. I’d read stories about time slips and never believed they existed. I always thought they were silly ideas or just stories made up by drunk people. This is why I don’t talk too much about home. England is extremely different to this in the future. It would take me a long time to talk about everything.” 

Guy just stared at you and propped up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. “I have time.” 

***

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(I'm always happy to add people to my list for all fics, or just fics for a particular fandom or character. I'm even happy to remove people as well should they no longer wish to receive notifications. Please let me know any preferences)

[tomionefinds]

I need some dark volmione, i know that you have tags but i'm looking for some new dark romance volmione

Hey Anon, Posting our Volmione tag here just in case and adding a few other fics for you. As always if any followers know of others feel free to post in the comments! -JD

A Mudblood's Revenge by NerysDax E/Ma | Complete | 14k As an adult member of the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione Granger finds the organisation grossly ineffective and questions the wisdom of its leader, Albus Dumbledore. She decides to take matters into her own hands. Volmione.

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by Perhentian.en M | Complete | 252k Hermione had grown quite used to help Harry each time her friend managed to end up in some impossible situation, and this even if the war with Voldemort had been over for a long time. But when Harry, faced with the destruction of the magical world, decides to throw his friends back in time, Hermione is appalled. And what about this reckless plan of his to somehow use Voldemort?

Wandlore by Ciule Series: Wandlore [1] E/Ma | Complete | 98k Oh, the locket whispered to her too, not only the boys, telling her all kinds of tales, and it had even suggested a ludicrous idea, that she’d take the Horcrux to Voldemort, getting a reward beyond all measure.

No Justice for the Wicked by BareWithMeHoney E/Ma | WIP | 47k Voldemort wins the war and wants to amuse himself by torturing Potter's Mudblood into insanity. How far will he go? How long will Hermione last? And can unexpected things happen in the abyss, where every last shred of humanity has been stripped away?

Revision and Rescript by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers) NR | Complete | 80k Hermione Granger is embroiled in an unhappy marriage to Ron Weasley and haunted by the scars left behind by Lord Voldemort's decades-long assault on the wizarding world. After being given a mysterious Time-Turner, she makes the bold decision to travel back in an attempt to change the course of history as she's known it. She arrives in 1968, to a wizarding Britain where Tom Riddle has just returned from the Continent and is struggling to gain traction as Lord Voldemort. Can Hermione stop his rise, or shift the sands of time in ways that will save lives? Or will her time travel have all sorts of unintended consequences for the people she loves? Volmione slow-burn.

The Riddle Effect by Bellemedusa Series: The Granger Effect Series [2] E/Ma | Complete | 35k What if Tom Riddle's Diary ended up in Hermione's possession? What if Hermione Granger had her own Prophecy? What if she became Voldemort's treasure? From The Granger Effect's multiple timelines, this is the story of the worst case scenario. The outcome everyone was trying so hard to avoid. Or simply, Voldemort's dream timeline fulfilled.

Two Steps From Hell by ssserpensssotia M | Complete | 212k The road to hell is often paved with good intentions. LV/HG, Complete.

The Contract by Lady Miya M | Complete | 151k Greetings Wife; Imagine my surprise when I found out I was married. I am convinced you all have some clever plan behind it. However, make no mistake, I will not let myself be played. - Voldemort. Rated M for a reason. Read warnings.

Captive Audience by Magentasouth E/Ma | WIP | 175k Hermione is captured by Death Eaters before the trio can leave on the Horcrux hunt Death

Lustful Smiles by ReggieBlack M | Complete | 2k We all know that Harry, Ron and Hermione defeated the Dark Lord. But what would happen if the rescue at Malfoy Manor went wrong? A Volmione story, rated M for later sexual content.

[space-helen]

Gift

Words: 706

Pairing: Saru x Reader

A/N: I think this one is super sweet :) Thank you for the request

Request: could we get some friends to lovers with Saru? love that funky guy so much 💛 - Anon

______________________

"Is everything ok?" Saru's familiar voice sounded from beside you "you have that sullen look to you walk."

His comment did amuse you slightly, a small smile pulled at your lips but you couldn't help still feeling slightly disheartened "Casey cancelled again."

The man felt his heart drop, he knew Casey was supposed to be your close friend and he knew how much it hurt you that they were slowly cutting ties.

"I'm sorry this has happened yet again. I am available if you'd like to do something with me instead?"

"You know I love spending time with you Saru." You nudged into his side and linked your arm with his as you had done a thousand times before. You'd been friends with him for as long as you could remember on the ship. You were grateful to have gotten to know the man and spend time with him.

"I'll organise a meal-"

"No need." You interrupted "we can hang out at mine. I'd actually prefer to stay in tonight"

"May I suggest we spend time in my space? I have some new plants I wish to show you and your quarters can be… cramped to say the least."

"Sure. I'll meet you over there later?" 

The man nodded and you unlinked your arms before excusing yourself back to your shift. Saru walked with confidence in his stride and a smile on his face as he went back to his own shift.

"Well the plants sure have shot up since I was last here." You admitted as you marvelled at the space around you.

The man handed you a spray bottle, a routine you were so used to. The man lingered in front of you before moving out of your way. 

Holding the bottle in hand you got to work spraying down various plants, cutting off dead leaves as you went. 

Several minutes of silence passed "How did the rest of your shift go?" You asked, silence was normal but this wasn't.

"It was good."

"Good huh? No trouble?"

"It was actually relatively straight forward for once." He sounded a bit more present.

"I'm glad." You smiled as you turned towards him, placing the spray bottle down as you did so.

The man was looking towards you and you could see him hesitating for a second before turning away. Saru picked up something from another shelf and placed it down next to you.

"I wanted to show you this."

You took in the plant, it was unassuming and leafy with blue buds all over. "I haven't seen this one before. Is it new?"

"New to you, but not to me." He looked at you and took in your beauty as you admired the plant, he could feel his heart filling up.

"What is it?" Your eyes met his and you could see something different in them.

"I came across it about a year ago, withering away and I knew I needed to keep it. The thing about this plant is it needs to be cared for, needs to be loved. Once at it's peak it's hard-wearing and beautiful after it's been fully activated. They're normally gifted between two people who love each other very much." 

"How far along is this one?"

"Ready for the final stage" He picked something up and poured it over the plant. The blue buds opened up into beautiful flowers of white, pink and yellow. You could see a glisten over it, as if it'd been sprinkled with fine glitter.

"It's beautiful"

Saru looked at his creation and then you, knowing what he needed to say.

"I wish to gift it to you."

You looked at the man and could see the sincerity in his eyes as the meaning hit you.

He looked back at the plant slightly embarrassed. "I do care for you Y/N and I wish for you to have this. I understand if you do not feel the same way and I hope we can still be friends but I had to say this now."

You got up onto your tip toes and placed a quick kiss to his cheek "Saru, I care for you too and this is the most thoughtful gift ever. Of course I accept"

Tag List: (open)

Star Trek: @spaskaalekha @faheyslantsov @morganofthecoves1​ @starfleetimagines​ @allthetrek​ @huntheimpossible @therapieliteratur

[spice-chan]

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k 

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot​

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard. 

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.” 

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips. 

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize. 

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none. 

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface. 

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift. 

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest. 

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders. 

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further. 

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear. 

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second. 

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface. 

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.” 

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine. 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. 

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t. 

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon. 

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to. 

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now? 

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks. 

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.”  Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise. 

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor. 

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong. 

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard. 

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting. 

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off. 

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit. 

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you. 

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter. 

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him,  making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant. 

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper. 

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute. 

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey. 

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content. 

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it. 

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you. 

“So it's true, huh?” 

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused. 

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him. 

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.” 

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really. 

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.” 

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside. 

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat. 

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized. 

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water. 

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear. 

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again. 

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.” 

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions. 

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do. 

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes. 

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace. 

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous. 

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.  

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right? 

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions. 

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions. 

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine. 

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth. 

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him. 

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile. 

“You look dumb” 

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away. 

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry? 

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool. 

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner. 

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving. 

You were sleeping. 

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle. 

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily. 

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red. 

He wondered how much you cried. 

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone. 

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy. 

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly. 

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.” 

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*. 

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.” 

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous. 

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly. 

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop. 

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs. 

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone. 

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you. 

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable. 

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes. 

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad. 

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure. 

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating. 

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him. 

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved. 

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red. 

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant? 

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter. 

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words. 

You slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall. 

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you” 

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding. 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.” 

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist. 

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman? 

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.” 

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou. 

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator. 

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute. 

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is. 

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over. 

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you. 

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”  

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you. 

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules. 

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled. 

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile. 

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck. 

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. 

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you. 

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly. 

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.” 

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.” 

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing. 

Is that all it takes to win you over? 

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed. 

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison. 

[spuddlespud]

Manuscript Search/Find the Word Tag

Tagged by:

@primroseprime2019 💜: walk, surprise, allow and impress

@blind-the-winds 💜: young, yearn, yelp, yellow, and yes.

@eccaiia 💜: happy, hurt, head, hour, and hole!

@winterandwords 💜: thought, though, through and tough

I tag: @aohendo @inkspellangel @talesofsorrowandofruin @ahordeofwasps @bardic-tales @untethereddreams @theglitchywriterboi @junypr-camus @frostedlemonwriter

Your words are: run, rain, real, road

Walk

So when Charlie just walked up to her and said with a smile ‘You’ll never guess what happened last night!” Andi knew she was in for some tale of the miraculous, some fresh nonsense.

Surprise - A Workers Guide to Demonology

I'm the first to admit that I detest most things about this human meatsack I'm lugging around, but it has a nice belly, a belly that can hold plenty of sustenance for my soul-devouring spirit. I'm surprised that I'm starting to feel somewhat...protective of this body. It almost feels like it's me that's been insulted by the titters around the office and the insolent humans eye roll.

Allow - A Short Way to an Angry AI

"Language!" Despite having the foulest mouth of any sentient being Riley had ever known, Sadie took every little opportunity to chastise her crew for the same faux pas. She said living beings should know better. AI's had a lot of shit to remember and deal with, as well as stupid crews putting them in stupid situations, they could be allowed a little swear every now and again, as a treat.

Impress - Dragonbreath and Skelefellas

Saph was just having a peaceful morning minding her own business and  polishing her knife collection when Skully clattered into the room. The  necromancer wasted no time in sweeping Saph’s mini workshop half off the  table and replacing it with an impressive pile of papers and books. It  was only thanks to Saph’s well developed reflexes that she managed to  save her magic polish from a tumble to the floor.

Young - Contained World Potions

So, young apprentice, whatever you do, don't you dare open the Contained World.

Yearn - none

Yelp - Untitled

Erika's sword swung down, meeting the knights shield with a clang and following through with a kick to his kneecap. The other knight let out an undignified yelp, only just managing to keep his balance.

Yellow - Old Inn Door

Mabel pushed the sheets of her body, revealing her old yellowing slip. Her hair stuck up in a sweaty clump on her forehead, leaving her jealous of Robin's short cropped hair.

Yes - A Worker's Guide to Demonology

Her malleable little human soul is no match for my domineering spirit. Even a level 1 demon would be able to...Harry! Molly! Yes it's me can you hear me?"

Happy - The Familiarity Between the Owl and the Pussycat

Séamus burst through the window twittering and going on and on about Midnight and all the uncouth things the cat had done. Bathsheba tuned most of it out, focusing on the herbs she was trying to organise into the correct order on the wall. She let out a low hum every once in a while to keep Séamus happy as he twittered on.

Hurt - A Worker's Guide to Demonology

"How dare you refer to me, the burner of galaxies, the tamer of snakes as 'it'?!"

"Ah look you've hurt its feelings now"

"It!?"

Head - Untitled Werewolf WIP

John's pale skin looked washed out under the fluorescent light of the office. His head was in his hands.

Hour - A Short Way to An Angry AI

As funny as the 'your majesty' caper had been, Celeste could tell it was starting to get on Riley's nerves. They'd been stewing in their room for the last two hours after the burnt toast and toilet incident, and when a crew consists of two humans and an AI there isn't really any space for long term disagreements. That's how disasters happened.

Hole - A Worker's Guide to Demonology

The other one, in a holey tshirt and scruffed up hair, seems more amused than concerned. "Feeling a bit worse for wear?"

Thought

But the fears and the sins of you alive humans are just another thing entirely. Another dialect almost, as your species is very clever at distracting yourselves above ground. I suppose your brains only have room for a limited number of thoughts at a time.

Though - A Short Way to an Angry AI

"It's nothing you haven't said before, Sadie," Celeste admonished, before turning to Riley.  "She has a point though, it was a bit insulting."

Through - A Short Way to an Angry AI

"Riley....Riley." The ever calm voice spread throughout the room, cutting into Riley's sleep. Fucking AIs!

Riley rolled over with a groan, pulling their pillow over their head. "Sadie, power down."

"'Sadie, power down'" the mocking voice repeated "You disabled that command remember. You said you we're fed up with missing your wake up call."

Tough

“Go fuck yourself”

“I’d rather fuck you”

“Tough, I’m too busy doing monster things”

[sisterdivinium]

Strolling through the tags, I sometimes come across headcanons that present themselves as analysis. This technically injures no one in the real world, but I think it is an important distinction to keep in mind, if only for clarity’s sake.

Fanlore presents a rather good definition for “headcanon” as “a fan’s personal, idiosyncratic interpretation of canon, such as habits of a character, the backstory of a character, or the nature of relationships between characters. The term comes from the fact that it is the canon that exists in a fan's head.”

I would like to compare this to what is said of “meaning” by Terry Eagleton in his delightful How to Read Literature:

“Meaning is a public affair. There could not be a meaning that only I was in possession of, as there could be a plot of land that only I owned. Meaning is not a matter of private property. I cannot privately decide to make the phrase ‘hermeneutical phenomenology’ mean ‘Meryl Streep’. Meaning belongs to language, and language distils the sense we collectively make of our world. It is not free-floating. … It signifies a compact between human beings in a specific place and time, embodying their shared ways of acting, feeling and perceiving. Even when people conflict over such things, they must agree to some extent on what it is they are arguing over, otherwise we could not call what they were doing conflicting …

It follows from this that a work of literature could not mean something to me alone. I might see in it something that nobody else does, but what I see must in principle be shareable with others for us to call it a meaning … [A quirky, unexplainable connection between words on a page and a reader’s eccentric imagination] could not be part of the meaning of the words. It is simply a random private association. Meaning is not objective in the sense that municipal car parks are, but it is not just subjective either. The same is true of literary works themselves.”

Of course here we’re dealing with more than just literary works, but the logic still applies.

A headcanon is fancy, an amusing way to interact with the source material when it has piqued our interest to such an extent that we cannot help writing our own ideas into it, diving into it, contributing to it. Analysis and interpretation, on the other hand, are concerned with its meaning—what we can take from the text (in that broad sense we’ve come to give the word “text”) as it is offered, as can be proved.

Also analogically useful is what Professor Eagleton says of Moby Dick’s Ishmael:

“If he is not really called Ishmael, the reader might wonder what his real name is. But if we are not given his real name, then he does not have one. It is not as though Melville is concealing it. You cannot conceal something that does not exist. All that exists of Ishmael as a character is a set of black marks on a page. It would not make sense, for example, to claim that he has a scar on his forehead but that the novel fails to mention it. If the novel does not mention it, then it does not exist.”

A headcanon is giving Ishmael—or, say, Beatrice or any of the other surname-less sister warriors a family name. An analysis could propose hypotheses as to why they do not have surnames in canon to begin with (nuns join monasteries and shed their individual identities in favour of a communal body and spirit just as in the military, when the OCS is both a religious and military organisation and its mission is seen as more important than the individual women who accomplish it; self-sacrifice of this magnitude is a requirement rather than a coincidence, as they are all to be groomed as potential halo bearers, to die in battle and be buried and erased in the secrecy of the Order, chewed up and spat out by the institution, etc.)

A headcanon is akin to fanfiction—it often breeds fanfiction (I myself headcanon Mother Superion and Jillian as lesbians when I sit down to write about them; my shipping them is also a headcanon in itself). An analysis gives way to interpretations that may well fly high, but which must always hearken back to the source material in order to assert their validity. They demand evidence where headcanons can simply be stated and taken for what they are.

Both are (fun!) ways of approaching the main fiction, but they are not equivalent or synonymous.

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Two

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 7,970

Warning: Lots of Smut, Some Swearing

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​  @cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey​  

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

***Drinks and Secrets***

Seven days after your last encounter with Kurt, you finally had his desk delivered back to his office which was located at the Dublin theatre and music district at the back building of a large venue.

Next to his office were several recording studios which meant that, whilst you were recording your new album, you saw him more frequently than you would have hoped.

In addition to working on your new album, you were working on an advertising campaign for the upcoming arts and music festival. As part of this campaign, you were recording a song with Amanda and another Dublin artist named Jeremy who gained a lot of popularity lately.

He was a nice man, in his late thirties who had a lot to offer. He played several instruments and it was easy to work with him and Amanda, at least until Amanda tried to organise a date between you and Jeremy.

She told you about it over some drinks on a Friday afternoon following a day at the recording studio.

‘I have two tickets to see the new play at the Abbey. I was going to see it with Cillian but, since we broke up, this isn’t going to happen. I thought that, perhaps, you could go with Jeremy’ Amanda said with a big grin on her face as she handed you a pint of Guinness.

‘Jeremy? Why would I go with Jeremy?’ you laughed, somewhat surprised by Amanda’s suggestion.

‘He is handsome, a real gentleman, funny and defiantly not a douche like Kurt. Despite, you said that you liked older and more mature guys’ Amanda laughed.

‘Well, perhaps you should ask him out yourself then?’ you giggled, causing Amanda to sigh.

‘I am not ready to date anyone Y/N. In fact, I don’t know if I am over Cillian yet’ Amanda said somewhat disappointed, causing you to take in a deep breath as you thought about your recent encounter with Cillian.

You were overrun with guilt as Amanda continued on, talking about her breakup with Cillian. You knew that you shouldn’t have slept with him, but then again, you didn’t know that you and Amanda would be working together again until three days ago when one of the other musicians dropped out of the project.

‘So, do you think you will give it another chance?’ you asked curiously.

‘I don’t think so. I think he made up his mind. To be honest, I don’t know if I still have feelings for him or if I just miss the sex’ Amanda laughed just before she ordered another drink.

‘Right…that good, eh?’ you said as your face turned red almost immediately. Of course, you knew the answer to your own question.

‘That’s probably too much information, I am sorry. The beer is getting to my head’ Amanda said with some embarrassment.

‘It’s fine, seriously’ you responded before telling Amanda a little bit about your relationship with Kurt.

In turn, after Amanda had more beers, you learned that Cillian liked to take control in the bedroom and you weren’t surprised about this in the slightest, thinking back to the night at your apartment where he took you over Kurt’s study desk. The same study desk that was now in Kurt’s office once again. The thought of it made you giggle internally.

But then, the conversation changed and became more serious when Amanda told you the real reasons behind their recent break up. She believed that she was at fault, pushing him away slowly over time with her jealousy and trust issues, trying to prevent him from socialising and leaving him no space for himself. She accused him of cheating several times but later found out that there was nothing behind the rumours. Cillian eventually had enough of her antics and broke it off again.

‘Oh my god, I am sorry. I usually don’t drink’ Amanda said as she observed your facial expression when she continued to talk about Cillian. She was certainly more direct and open about her sex life than you had hoped.

‘I think I should get you home’ you said with a warm smile, feeling a sense of responsibility, and Amanda nodded in agreement.

Since you only had two beers over two hours, unlike Amanda who had at least six or seven, maybe more, you were still able to drive and you helped Amanda to your car, hoping that press wouldn’t notice her state. After all, she had quite a following herself.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled up in front of Cillian’s house which was where she was still living at the time as the settlement of her property was delayed.

Supporting her, you walked towards the front door and rang the doorbell. Within a minute, Cillian opened and couldn’t believe his own eyes when he saw you with his completely drunk ex-girlfriend.

‘Hi’ Cillian said somewhat surprised as he took hold of Amanda. She barely managed to walk by herself.

‘Hi’ you said, your eyes avoiding his.

‘Uhm, thank you…’ Cillian chuckled, not knowing what else to say to you, before asking you whether you wanted to come inside.

‘I would love to use your bathroom, if I could’ you laughed as you had to pull over earlier when Amanda got sick and your clothes smelled like vomit.

‘Sure, common in’ Cillian said just before he pointed you to the bathroom and helped Amanda getting out of her vomit-stained clothes.

You left the bathroom door open slightly as you cleaned yourself up and observed Cillian getting a bucket from the laundry before telling Amanda to have a rest.

After he helped her to lie down, placing the bucket next to the bed, he came into the bathroom to speak to you. He left the bedroom door open slightly so that he could hear if Amanda was getting sick, worried that she might miss the bucket in her state.

‘What happened? It’s only 6 o’clock’ Cillian asked almost amused.

‘She just kept drinking Cilly…I don’t know’ you said with a chuckle as you tried to wash the vomit out of your expensive vintage blouse.

‘Beer?’ he asked curiously, causing you to nod.

‘Fuck. I am in for an interesting evening then’ Cillian said somewhat irritated, causing you to laugh out loud.

‘So am I because I meant to see my sister and her husband for dinner at 7 o’clock and I smell like puke now’ you giggled, seeing the humour in all of this.

‘Have a shower here. I will get you a clean t-shirt’ Cillian suggested and you accepted his offer gratefully.

A minute later, Cillian gave you a towel and one of his black t-shirts. You closed the bathroom door behind you and got undressed.

When you stepped into the shower, you were slightly confused by all of the buttons. You never saw anything quite like this. You pressed one of the buttons and nothing happened. Then you pressed the next and, finally, water came rushing out from the top like waterfall but, it was cold.

‘Dammit’ you said loudly as the cold water came rushing down over your body, barely managing to wash away the little bit of soap you had placed on your chest and breasts earlier.

‘Having problems with the shower?’ Cillian asked from outside the bathroom door a few seconds after he heard you yell.

‘There is no hot water’ you said as you stepped out of the shower, wrapped the towel around you and opened the door.

Cillian stepped inside, gazing over your semi naked body for a second or two, before turning on the shower for you.

‘Wow, that’s high tech’ you giggled as you stood right next to Cillian, his body awfully close to yours.

‘Isn’t that usually how you young people roll?’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to give him a slight nudge and, in the process of it, loosing hold of your towel on one side.

Cillian noticed immediately and his jaw dropped as he drew a deep breath.

‘Cillian?’ you whispered as you noticed him looking at the ceiling, purposely trying to avoid eye contact with you.

‘Yeah’ he said with a low voice as he looked back at you but, instead of saying anything else to him, you pressed your lips onto his tentatively.

Cillian gave into the kiss and parted your lips with his slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth in order to meet yours.

Your hands reached for his cheeks and the back of his head while your towel dropped to the floor.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this Y/N’ Cillian whispered as your lips drifted apart after what seemed like an eternity.

‘No, we shouldn’t’ you responded despite the fact that you wanted him, right then and there.

But, his lips landed on yours again almost instantly, ignoring the interfering thoughts in your heads.

As you were kissing, Cillian’s hand wandered over the back of your body and then in between you, immediately finding your wet mound.

You let out a low moan as his fingers began to gently massage your clit before one of his fingers dipped inside of you momentarily.

On your left upper thigh, you could feel his erection press against you, restricted by his tight and ripped jeans.

You pushed your mound against his hand as much as you could while he swallowed up your moans, continuing to kiss you passionately.

But, as he began to apply more pressure against your clit, you had to pull away from his mouth and moan escaped you.

His speed increased and you let your head fall forward against his chest and shoulder, taking in the scent of his aftershave and moaning into the thin black cotton of his t-shirt.

Your legs began to quiver within minutes and his magical fingers on your clit brought you over the edge fairly quickly.

You held onto Cillian, continuing to moan against his chest as your orgasm washed over you and he finally slowed down his movements.

‘Fuck’ you whispered as Cillian chuckled at the fact that he just made you cum within less than five minutes.

‘You should have a shower now or you’ll be late for dinner’ Cillian winked before pressing his lips onto yours again.

‘What about you?’ you asked quietly as you ran your hand over his crotch.

‘I better check on Amanda’ he said somewhat reluctantly before leaving you by yourself in the bathroom.

After a quick shower, you got dressed and returned to the living room where Cillian was sitting, watching a documentary.

When you approached him to give him a kiss, he pulled away.

‘We cannot keep doing this Y/N’ Cillian said quietly and it was obvious to you that he had been doing a lot of thinking while you were in the shower.

‘You are right’ you murmured, upset by his response.

‘Are we okay?’ he asked and you nodded.

‘Thanks for the shower’ you said a little upset before grabbing your keys and phone and returning to your car.

***Family***

Later that evening, at dinner with your sister and her husband, your sister asked you about your music projects and, of course, your love life.

She knew that you had separated from Kurt and, even though you called it a break, it was obvious to her and anyone from your family that this was final.

She was glad that it was over. Finally, you were free from him.

When she asked you if there was anyone else, you couldn’t help it but tell her about Cillian. But you didn’t tell her his name, nor did you tell her how you had met.

All that you told her was that there was a man who you had slept with and who you think you might like and this was the first time that you admitted your feelings for Cillian to yourself as well.

It felt strange to you as, initially, when you met Cillian, you couldn’t stand him but now that you got to know each other more intimately, this changed.

When you told your sister that he was 43, making him exactly twenty years older than you, her jaw dropped.

‘Forget about him Y/N. Honestly’ she told you, thinking that he was too old for you and the press would rip you to pieces about it, just as it happened with your ex-girlfriend which emotionally destroyed you at the time.

‘I’ve grown since then, emotionally and mentally and I cannot help it. His presence does something to me and, currently, I work with him all the time’ you said with a deep sigh.

‘Is he a musician?’ your sister asked curiously and you shook your head.

‘He’s an actor’ you admitted but went no further than that regardless of how much your sister was poking around, asking you for his name.

‘It doesn’t matter because it isn’t going anywhere with us and you are right, it’s probably better that way’ you said when she asked you for his name for the third time.

Your sister gave up eventually and, after several glasses of wine, you decided to stay at her house for the night before a big day at the studio finalising the schedule for the music festival.

The next morning, when you tried to start your car, the engine had stopped working. It was a brand-new car and you were extremely irritated and contacted the car dealer immediately.

The car dealer advised you that they couldn’t get the car in for repair until Monday and your sister luckily offered to drive you into Dublin city.

‘Do you have time for a coffee?’ she asked as she pulled up in front of the studio and nodded. You still had twenty minutes before your meeting with Cillian and Kurt.

You sat down at a booth table in the small café beneath the theatre and the waitress was quick to take your order and bring you some water.

‘The coffee here is really good’ you said to your sister but she seemed somewhat distant and unresponsive.

‘June? Are you with me?’ you chuckled and, suddenly she looked at you with wide open eyes and whispered ‘Cillian Murphy’.

‘What about him?’ you asked absolutely flustered.

‘Over there, at the counter’ your sister then whispered with excitement, causing you to take in a deep breath. He wasn’t the person who you wanted to see right at this moment, especially after what you told your sister last night.

‘He is my cheat pass’ your sister then said, causing you to inadvertently spit out some of the water in your mouth.

‘You are joking?’ you asked, causing your sister to shake her head and continue to stare at him.

‘I am going to say hello’ she said determined and you took her hand quickly and responded ‘no you are not’ which was when Cillian noticed you and walked over towards your table.

‘Morning Y/N’ he said with a smile before giving you a friendly kiss on the cheek.

‘Hi Cilly’ you said before introducing him to your sister with some embarrassment.

Your sister was quick to move to one side, indicating for Cillian to sit down next to her and he didn’t think anything of it and joined you both for coffees and a snack to eat.

The three of you engaged in some small talk and Cillian informed you that Kurt had called him earlier that day telling him that he was sick and wouldn’t be coming in.

You were glad about it in a way but it also meant that it was just you and Cillian working on the schedule which might be a problem after last night.  

After you drank your coffees and engaged in some more conversation, each of you went your separate ways. Cillian and you had a days’ work ahead of you and your sister had to get back home.

A few minutes after you left the café, you got a test message from your sister. ‘Fuck he’s hot. Can you invite him for drinks with me or something’ it said and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘What’s so funny?’ Cillian asked as he observed your facial expressions and small giggles.

‘Nothing’ you responded before putting your phone away, ignoring your sister’s text message.

***Working Together***

The day went by quickly and you managed to be quite productive, finishing the schedule for the festival by 4 o’clock. There was no arguing anymore between you and Cillian and, with Kurt not being there, there was also no shouting.

As you were working together, you and Cillian kept your distance from each other, trying as hard as you could to stay focused and professional.

You sent the schedule off to Kurt for consideration and communication to the artists and Cillian offered you to drive you home after you told him about your car.

You agreed reluctantly as it was raining but all of your focus and professionalism went out of the window as soon as Cillian pulled up in front of your apartment.

‘Uhm, would you like to come up for a drink?’ you asked, knowing exactly that you shouldn’t have asked him that after last night.

‘I shouldn’t’ Cillian responded reluctantly. He knew he couldn’t get involved with you again. Another relationship was not what he wanted, especially not with someone as young as you.

‘I know, I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s fine. Thank you for driving me home. Have a good night’ you said before giving him a friendly kiss on his cheek before getting out of his car.

As you reached the front door of your apartment building and searched through your bag for the key, you heard the door of Cillian’s car close.

You looked back and saw Cillian approach you with a hesitant smile.

‘Changed your mind?’ you smirked as he walked up the pathway leading to the front door of your apartment block.

‘Yeah, I suppose’ Cillian smiled with his hands in his pockets like a shy schoolboy while he was waiting for you to open the door.

You finally found your key and you both took the elevator up to your apartment, keeping your distance from each other.

You opened the door to your apartment and Cillian followed you inside almost shyly, remaining standing in the doorway and asking ‘before I do anything stupid, it isn’t really a drink that you are after, right?’

‘No. In fact, all I’ve got is tap water’ you said almost embarrassed and, just after you did, you found yourself pinned against the wall and Cillian crashed his lips onto yours in a haste.

You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore yours in a passionate kiss.

With one foot, you pushed your apartment door closed behind you before you gave into the Cillian completely.

‘Not fire safety compliant’ Cillian murmured as your lips drifted apart, causing you to look at him with some confusion.

‘The door. It’s opening into the wrong direction’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to raise your eyebrows and start to laugh.

‘You are weird’ you chuckled before you pressed your lips back onto his, thinking why on earth he would have noticed this in the heat of the moment.

‘Coming from the woman with a Harry Potter tattoo beneath her left breast’ Cillian chuckled after your lips drifted apart again momentarily and he began to unbutton your mustard-coloured vintage shirt.

‘What can I say…I am magic’ you chuckled before you pulled him closer again for another kiss.

Each and every kiss was passionate and urgent, full of desire for each other.

‘Didn’t we say we wouldn’t do this again?’ you asked as your shirt landed on the floor.

‘You are the one who initiated it by asking me upstairs for a glass of tap water’ Cillian chuckled. ‘Do you want to stop?’ he then asked, causing you to shake your head and pull his t-shirt over his head exposing his bare chest.

‘Didn’t think so’ Cillian smirked before he trailed kisses over your breasts, which were still covered by a black lace bra, and then all the way down to your stomach. He dropped to his knees slowly while his lips explored your body and his hands began to fondle with the button and zipper of your jeans, pushing them down gently.

You let out a soft moan as his hands ran over the front of your treasure. His face was awfully close to your most intimate area and you could feel his hot breath on your wet mound, fanning through the lace of your panties.

With your jeans stuck over your ankles, Cillian pushed your legs apart with his hands as wide as he could.

‘Don’t move’ he instructed, causing you to take in a sharp inhale and, just as you did, he hooked the index fingers of both of his hands into the hem of your panties and pulled them down all the way to your ankles.

You wanted to push your legs together, feeling vulnerable now that he got such a close look at your wet mound. But, Cillian’s hands wouldn’t allow as he held your thighs in place while pushing you all the way back at the freshly painted wall of your apartment.

Cillian then moved to your inner thighs and his soft, wet tongue administered little licks, alternating with kisses, as he moved back and forth between your left and right thigh, ascending higher and higher as he did.

‘Hmm….fuck’ you moaned in anticipation, causing Cillian to smile against the flesh of your right thigh before looking up at you for a brief moment, his blue eyes meeting yours.

You bit your lip suggestively and then watched as that pink, wet, soft tongue of his slid out of his mouth in a flattened state and land on the right outer lip of your wet mound.

A loud moan escaped you as soon as his tongue moved closer towards your centre, giving your slit a very long, very slow, torturous lick.

You placed your hands on his head and ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue licked up and down before sinking it into your entrance once slightly, making you squirm.  

‘Hold still’ he instructed as he pushed your thighs apart again with his hands.

With both outer lips equally swollen, you watched as he made his tongue pointed again, spreads your swollen outer lips and then licks both of your inner lips from back to front at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. He then ran his tongue over your clit hood and gently pulled the hood back, revealing your swollen, throbbing, pulsing clit.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you moaned as he continued to lick you. He took his time, slowly licking all of the surfaces of your clit.

Unlike most men you've been with, he knew what he was doing and you soon began to shudder and shake as he covered this territory.

After as little as ten minutes, you could feel yourself getting close to your high.

‘Cillian, don’t fucking stop’ you moaned as your hands held onto his head firmly as he continued to suck on your clit gently.

Your orgasm washed over you almost instantly and you lost all of your self-control while Cillian kept pushing your legs apart with his hands and stimulating your clit with his mouth.

Your legs wanted to give way shortly after you came down from your high and Cillian got off his knees quickly before pressing his lips onto yours in a haste, wanting you to taste your own juices that had pooled across his lips.

You moaned into his mouth while your hand reached between the both of you, running over his erection which was trapped beneath his tight jeans.

‘I am not done yet’ Cillian said as he moved your hand away from his crotch and pinned you back against the wall, kissing you again passionately.

While he was kissing you, he ran his hand over your wet mound, collecting your wet juices with his fingers before bring his finger up to your mouth.

You took his fingers into your mouth, licking them suggestively until he pulls them away from your mouth again.

Without words, his blue eyes starred into yours, full of want and desire and, without you noticing, his hand returned back in between your legs where he now, effortlessly, slid both of his fingers into your warmth.

You let out a loud moan, while Cillian looked at you, taking in your facial expressions. His lips were parted slightly as he observed your moans and you leaned forward to kiss him, but he wouldn’t allow it.

Within a few seconds, he found the magic spot inside of you and proceeded to tease it with his fingertips.

‘Holy Fucking Christ’ you screamed in shock. No one, not even yourself, had found this spot before and your legs were ready to give in right then and there.

‘Oh my god, stop…I mean don’t stop. Fuck, this is intense’ you said with laboured breathing as you starred at Cillian who responded with a satisfied grin.

‘Just relax and let go’ Cillian said before he pressed his lips back onto yours.

The pressure he used was gentle at first until he could feel you relax, which is when he increased his movements. You were already wet but, when his fingers massaged your g-spot, you began dripping on to the dark wooden floor.

‘Cillian, fuck fuck fuck, oh god’ you moaned as you felt a sensation you never felt run through your body. It was more intense than anything else you had ever experienced and, without being able to control yourself, you screamed loudly as your walls began to tighten around his fingers.

‘That’s it baby’ Cillian said as he watched your eyes close shut and listened to your loud moans while another orgasm washed over you.

As he did, he could feel a gush of wetness run over his hand and down to the floor, But you didn’t notice, you were in a trance, your legs were shaking by that point and you were entirely consumed by the most intense orgasm you ever had.

As you came down from your high, the wall behind you preventing you from collapsing to the floor, you looked at Cillian in disbelieve before noticing the puddle of clear liquid that had formed on the floor.

Cillian grinned, his tongue running over his lips suggestively as he watched your embarrassment.

‘Oh my god, what the fuck. This never happened before’ you said somewhat embarrassed when you noticed the puddle.

‘I am good then’ Cillian said before he pressed his lips back onto yours and wiped his hand on his jeans.

‘I am so sorry’ you said as your lips drifted apart, your mind filled with embarrassment about the mess you just made.

‘For this? Don’t be ridiculous’ Cillian said before kissing you again. ‘In fact, I think it’s sexy’ he added after your lips drifted apart.

‘Would you like to break in my new bed?’ you smirked as you took off the remainder of your clothes and indicating to Cillian to follow you.

‘It would be my pleasure’ Cillian smirked before he quickly kicked off his shoes and picked you up, remembering the location well from the last time he visited you.

As he held you against him and walked, you could feel his hardness pressing into you through his jeans and throbbing against your wet and naked mound.

He carried you to your bed and, with one swift movement, you found yourself with your back on the mattress.

As he took off his jeans and briefs all at the same time, Cillian couldn’t help but stare at your naked beauty, right there in front of him.

You could see his body respond as his hard member twitched and a few drops of precum escaped and fell to your bedroom floor.

You didn’t have to wait long for him to join you on the bed, hoovering over you and planting kisses over your body before meeting your lips again.

Then your lips were sucking and nibbling on his as he pulled away after each kiss, teasing you and occasionally your tongues would meet and fight each other.

No one ever kissed you quite like he did. It was intense and full of desire. Each kiss was different, new and exciting.

After your lips drifted apart again and while Cillian once more tried to take control, directing you to the position he wanted you in, you pushed him beneath you instead, catching him by surprise.

‘Do you have condoms?’ you asked as he was lying beneath you, thinking that you should have thought about this much earlier.

‘What happened to the ones from last time?’ Cillian asked as his hands continued to trail over your body, paying particular attention to your breasts.

‘They are in Kurt’s desk which is now in Kurt’s office’ you said, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I can get dressed and walk to the shop. It isn’t far’ Cillian suggested before letting out a deep sigh knowing that his erection would defiantly not come down if he had to walk to the shops.

‘I am on birth control and, after Kurt, I just had all of my check-ups done’ you said, causing Cillian to nod in agreement before trying to take charge once again. But you wouldn’t budge and held him down against the bed playfully.

‘You really don’t like to give up control, do you?’ you grinned, causing Cillian to respond with a quiet chuckle.

‘No, but I am willing to try if you manage to tame me’ he winked jokingly before trying to pull you closer for another kiss.

‘I think I might just have the right thing for you Mr Murphy’ you grinned as you pulled away and reached for your bedside table.

From your bedside table, you pulled out a pair of leather handcuffs and held them up suggestively.

‘Do I get to use them on you some time?’ Cillian chuckled before he willingly put his hands above his head, ready for you to tie him against the metal frame of your bedhead.

‘Maybe’ you smirked as you secured the cuffs against his wrists and the bedhead, leaving him completely at your mercy.

By this time, the windows of your bedroom had become foggy, with precipitation running down the inside of them and the room was starting to smell like two people in heat, lust filling the air.

With Cillian’s wrists tied to the bedhead, you were now the one who hoovered over Cillian, planting kisses over him and rubbing your wet folds over his upper thighs suggestively. Random drops of his precum were caught by your skin and you got intermittent glimpses of his cock, still rigid this whole time.

He hated and loved the way you were teasing him all at the same time until, finally, you made your descent over his perfectly shaped chest and stomach and all the way down towards his hard member.

Cillian inhaled sharply as he watched you lick his precum of his cockhead, using your tongue only.

He pulled on his restraints, desperate for you to take his rigid member into your mouth as you continued to tease him with only small licks.

‘Patience’ you whispered before, finally, you took all of him deep into your mouth, making him groan loudly as he bottomed out in your throat.

Whilst your hands paid attention to his balls, you began to bob your head up and down before taking his hard shaft into one of your hands and licking around his tip only.

After about ten minutes, Cillian’s breathing soon became laboured and you knew that he was getting close as you could feel his cock pulsate inside your mouth.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned until, eventually, your motions came to a halt and you shifted your body back up towards his until your lips met his once again.

While you exchanged a passionate kiss, you swung one leg over Cillian’s waist and reached between you, holding his hard shaft and carefully guiding it inside you.

‘Jesus’ was all that escaped him after your lips drifted apart and you lowered yourself onto him, taking inch by inch of his cock inside of you until you sat flush against him.

‘Hmm yes’ you moaned as you could feel all of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you completely.

‘Fuck you feel good’ Cillian moaned, trying to pull against his restraints in order to touch you. But his efforts were futile.

His warm cock felt amazing inside you and, once you adjusted to his size, you began to move, up and down, backwards and forwards.

You flicked your head back, riding him fast and hard. His breath was laboured and it was obvious to you that he was enjoying it, no longer trying to get out of his restraints.

‘God damn Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he watched your breasts bounce slightly up and down with every movement and it wasn’t long until your fingernails dug down into his chest, leaving some visible marks.

‘Come inside me’ you moaned, turned on by the thought of it and this was all he needed to hear in order to let go completely.

‘I am so fucking close’ you moaned and Cillian groaned in sync with you as he tried to thrust back up into you despite the restraints.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned again, his cock beginning to throb inside of you and, just as he groaned once last time, you screamed his name as your third orgasm washed over you.

Cillian and you came together, in sync, and your walls contracted just as he filled you with his warm cum.

After you rode out your orgasm, you slowly uncuffed him before lifting your body up slowly, allowing his cock to slide out of you.

You could feel his cum leak from your core and down your thigh as you got up.

‘Oh wow’ you grinned sheepishly as you noticed the large amount of cum on your core and thigh.

‘Yeah sorry, it’s been like a week’ Cillian chuckled but you didn’t mind at all and collected some of it with your finger. You brought your finger to your mouth, licking it suggestively.

Your actions caused Cillian to raise his eyebrows and stare at you in disbelieve.

‘Well, I wanted to see what you taste like’ you smirked before you collapsed next to him.

You curled up against Cillian’s chest while he wrapped his arms around you, his fingers gently tracing over your back.

You pulled the sheets over you, feeling the cold air passing through the room, the heat of Cillian’s naked body radiating to yours.

‘I don’t really want to get up’ Cillian said, half covered by your sheets, starring at you with his deep blue eyes.

‘Then don’t. Stay here tonight’ you smiled before pulling him close for another kiss.

‘It’s only 8 o’clock Y/N. I probably should go’ Cillian said, causing you to pout.

‘I could order some chinese and a bottle of wine…we can watch a movie and then we can fuck again’ you suggested, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I didn’t think that you could handle any more’ Cillian chuckled as he could see the exhaustion on your face.

‘Oh trust me, I can’ you said.  

Cillian reluctantly agreed and you got up from beneath the sheets to get your phone to place the order.

Luckily, your apartment was a loft style studio penthouse and your large bed was in the middle of the large room, right in front of your flat screen TV.

‘What do you want to watch?’ Cillian asked as he flicked through the movies on Netflix and you finally agreed on a scary movie you had heard about from your sister.

But, neither of you paid much attention to the rather horrible movie. You enjoyed your chinese food and wine and joked, talked about almost anything and everything until, finally, the credits came on.

‘That was terrible’ Cillian laughed and you agreed and apologised for your choice of movie.

‘At least the main actor was hot’ you giggled as you got up and placed the chine food containers into the bin in your kitchen area.

‘Do you want me to introduce you?’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Nah, I don’t get involved with actors’ you said as you sneaked back under the covers. You were both still completely naked, covered by the doona.

‘Is that right?’ Cillian laughed before his lips crashed back onto yours and you quickly found yourself beneath him.

‘I can’t believe you can actually go again’ you said delighted as you could feel his hard member poke against your upper thigh, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Well, I am in bed with a very sexy woman…one who doesn’t get involved with actors apparenty….so maybe I should leave’ Cillian joked as he ran his hand through your hair gently.

‘I will make an exception for you’ you smirked just before Cillian got up from the bed and walked to your bathroom ensuite.

Seconds later, he returned with a large white towel and placed it onto the bed, causing you to look at him with surprise.

But, before you could put any more thought to it, he kneeled on the bed and took your legs, putting them over his shoulders.

‘Uhm…’ you said, somewhat surprised by his choice of position and, before you could say anything else, he interlaces your fingers with his and you felt the head of his cock rest against your entrance.

Cillian shifted his hips back and forth, running the length of his shaft and head over your wet folds and then pushed the head into your already soaking entrance.

You take a deep, shuddering breath as you felt his swollen cockhead push your lips aside and stretch you.

Your walls relaxed while you felt even more wetness flowing from you as Cillian gently pressed forward and you could feel your walls stretch around him once again.

Cillian leaned forward, bending at the waist while he entered you slowly and fully until he bottomed out inside of you and there it was again, this unfamiliar feeling.

You let out a loud moan as you could feel the tip of his cock press against your g-spot which was when you began to realise why he chose this position and why had placed a towel beneath you.

‘You are so fucking beautiful’ he whispered while you watched as he started to pull out again almost all the way before pushing back in and pausing when his cockhead hits your g-spot again.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned as, with some subtle movements of his hips, he rubbed the head against your g-spot, making your fingers and toes curl.

Then he pulled out again almost all the way as he waited a few seconds for you to swell tighter. During that time, he ran his fingertips up and down your thighs and gave you grin before he started thrusting back into you again. He was slow and gentle, similar to when he his fingers first stimulated your sweet spot.

Once Cillian felt you relax completely and give in to the sensation of being penetrated this way, his thrusts became more forceful and fast.

The temperature of your apartment had increased significantly as sweat starts pouring down your bodies. Your juices once again started dripping from you and down his shaft. Your wetness was pooling underneath you two.

Cillian watched your toned stomach muscles flex as you cannot stay still as he reached down to rub your clit in circles, clockwise and counterclockwise while continuing his thrusting. Your breathing, which had started to become irregular, was now erratic. He smiled and enjoyed watching your breasts jiggle everywhere as you squirmed, trying to hold still.

Most of your body has now become a little numb, and as you felt him pulse and throb deep inside you and hear him moving in and out of your wetness, your eyes start glazing over a bit and rolling back into your head.

And then the intense feeling started again, at the top of your head. You couldn’t completely explain it and it was the most calm, relaxing feeling but with an undercurrent of tension that just gradually builds as that feeling flows over your face, neck, breasts, stomach, arms, and legs. When the feeling hit between your legs, your walls clamped down as hard as they could on his thick shaft.

‘Cillian, fuck…please don’t stop’ you moaned and with a loud cry, your body began to shiver, quiver, shake, bend, shudder, and contort as a multiwave orgasm rolled through you. Each wave feeling like a lightning bolt from head to toe as your tension lessened with each episode. Cillian pinned you down as you could not possibly stay still as he watched you writhe in ecstasy.

You almost blacked out as your whole body couldn’t stop coming. Just like the last time when Cillian massaged your g-spot, the pool of juices beneath you had quickly become a puddle and you could soon feel his balls swell up against your mound.

When your walls tightened around him, you could feel his cum rising within his shaft just before, with one loud groan, he filled you again with his warm seed.

Small tears fell from your eyes as you finally came down from your high and Cillian carefully pulled out of you, allowing you to rest your legs on the mattress.

‘Fuck Y/N, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ Cillian asked as soon as he noticed your teary eyes and flushed face.

‘No, it was just…’ you said as you took a deep breath before continuing your sentence. ‘It was very fucking intense’ you said, your breath heavy.

‘In a good way I hope’ Cillian chuckled before pressing his lips onto yours.

‘In the best way’ you giggled before you curled up against him.

After several gentle kisses and your hands roaming each other’s bodies, you eventually both drifted off to sleep.

***The Watch***

The following morning, you were both woken up by Cillian’s phone ringing at 8 o’clock. It was Kurt and he was persistent after Cillian didn’t pick up the first time.

Half asleep, with your head still resting on his chest, he answered the phone and talked to him.

‘Hey Kurt, what’s up?’ Cillian asked as he was waking up slowly while you began to trace your fingers over Cillian’s chest, playing with the little bit of chest hair.

‘I got the schedule last night and wondered whether you want to talk about it’ Kurt said politely just as Cillian wiggled around, stretching himself while you planted small kisses over his chest and down towards your stomach.

‘Uhm, talk…yes’ Cillian said as he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that you disappeared beneath the doona, your hands running over his upper thighs.

‘Could you come to my office in an hour?’ Kurt asked as Cillian took in a deep breath as your hands ran over his hardening cock.

‘Fuck’ was all that escaped him as he suddenly felt your warm lips wrapped around his base and he instantly went completely hard in your mouth.

‘Cillian?’ Kurt asked surprised by Cillian’s response.

‘Yes…fuck…sorry…9 o’clock?’ Cillian asked as he tried hard not to moan while you began to bob your head up and down, occasionally twirling your tongue over his head.

‘Yeah, if that’s alright?’ Kurt asked again, somewhat concerned by Cillian’s strange responses.

‘Yeah…’ Cillian responded before holding his breath, a deep groan stuck in his throat.

‘Can you call Y/N? She is being a fucking cunt not picking up my calls even though we need to work together on this’ Kurt complained.

‘Mhhm…’ Cillian said, pretending to listen to what Kurt was saying while you swallowed his length whole, moving your head up and down over and over again.

‘I actually think she is seeing someone’ Kurt went on to say as you ran your tongue piercing up and down Cillian’s shaft.

‘Aha’ Cillian responded trying to hold back his release, so close to coming.

‘I have to go man’ Cillian barely managed to say as your hands wrapped around his tight balls.

‘See you soon’ Kurt said before hanging up and just as he did a loud groan fell from Cillian’s lip.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned just as his shaft pulsated heavily and he filled your mouth with his warm and sweet cum.

You looked up from beneath the doona, opening your mouth slightly and suggestively before swallowing all of it with a grin.

‘So, what did my ex want?’ you asked sheepishly, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘You are so fucking bad’ he laughed before pulling you close for a kiss and telling you about the meeting.

‘You didn’t last very long despite your conversation with Kurt’ you giggled as you jumped up, walking towards the shower.

‘What can I say, blow jobs are my weakness especially coming from someone so talented’ Cillian smirked before he grabbed you from behind, kissing your neck and following you to the shower.

‘But, that’s not to say that we can’t keep going in the shower’ he grinned and so you went, spending twenties minutes making love while streams of hot water ran over your bodies.

After you came out of the shower and starred into the mirror you noticed that both, Cillian and you, were covered with small little bruises, scratches and bite marks.

You never quite had a night like this with anyone before and you weren’t ashamed. Nonetheless, you opted for a turtle neck jumper and some tight jeans.

Cillian had no choice but to wear the clothes he wore the night before, including the pair of jeans which had some obvious stains.

‘Sorry’ you chuckled as you noticed the stains.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll throw them in the wash and they’ll be grand’ he chuckled before you both walked to his car.

Ten minutes later, you arrived at Kurt’s office together and you felt the need to explain to him that your car broke down and Cillian was kind enough to offer to pick you up.

Kurt wasn’t suspicious by the fact that you arrived together, nor was he suspicious about the little bruises on Cillian’s neck. It was something else that, during your meeting with him, caught his attention and this was Cillian’s watch. It looked awfully familiar.

An hour into your meeting, rewriting half of the schedule because of Kurt being difficult and Cillian continuing to argue with him, Amanda and Jeremy arrived as well to finalise the advertising campaign for the music part of the festival.

Immediately, as soon as Amanda walked into Kurt’s office, she pulled Cillian aside.

‘Where the fuck were you last night?’ she asked quietly but everyone heard it, causing Jeremy to laugh.

‘I don’t think I have to answer that Amanda’ Cillian responded with some irritation before taking the paper schedule off Kurt and walking to the utilities room. Of course, she noticed the small bruises on his neck. It was obvious to her that he’s been with another woman.

You and Jeremy followed Cillian knowing very well that, the last time he tried to use the copier in the utilities room, he almost broke it and one of the administration assistants had banned him from ever touching it again.

As you were gone, Kurt had time to speak to Amanda in private.

‘I think I have an idea as to where Cillian may have been last night’ he chuckled, catching Amanda’s interest.

[one-boring-person]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a oneshot of Barney from expendables taking his pregnant wife to go see the gang at the park

I hope you like this and I'm sorry for the wait!

Old Fool.

Barney Ross (The Expendables) x reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

“Where the hell is Barney? He organised this damn thing.” Gunnar growls in irritation as he downs another can of soda, looking at the can in disgust, “And why the fuck are we drinking this shit?”

Casting amused glances at each other, the rest of the team watch as the disgruntled Swede cracks open yet another can, sipping from their own as they wait for their leader to arrive. Thankfully, the weather is nice, so the four of them are left sitting in a relatively sunny spot, feeling warm and mostly content...apart from Gunnar, who would rather be out doing god knows what. Barney had asked them a couple of weeks ago to go to this particular park near his home today, and had made a point of reinforcing the date multiple times since. Unfortunately for Gunnar, the time of the meeting is mid-morning, so far too early to drink any alcohol for any good reason, especially in public, leaving them all with hastily cooled sodas. 

“He’s late.” Lee shrugs, sitting back in his seat, smirking as the tall blonde turns on him.

“Yeah, no shit.” He retorts, grumbling something about the British always pointing out the obvious. 

“There’s probably a good reason.” Toll tries to reason, Caesar nodding his agreement. 

“There better be.” Gunnar grouches, busying himself with his can, until Lee suddenly sits upright, almost choking on a sip of coke.

“What the...” He frowns, squinting at a point in the distance, the others all following his gaze. 

The others have similar reactions, eyes widening in surprise, brows furrowing in confusion as they catch sight of their leader walking up the path...with a woman in tow.

It’s all they can do not to stare at her as Barney leads her towards his friends, a hand placed on her back, keeping her close to him, though Lee notices the slight hesitation in his stride as he nears. She’s a beautiful woman, they all agree, but what surprises and shocks them the most is the small but not unnoticeable swelling of her stomach, a roundness not found in weight problems. Gunnar’s can falls to the floor as he sees this, the Swede hastily bending to pick it up again before Barney gets too close. 

“Afternoon, Barney.” Lee greets as the two approach, lifting his bottle slightly in greeting, “Didn’t know you were bringing company. I would’ve dressed up.”

In response, Barney shifts slightly, an odd look on his face as he speaks.

“Hey, guys.” He nods at them, before helping his friend step forwards, “II wanted to introduce her to you all. This is (Y/n). My...girlfriend. (Y/n), this is Lee, Caesar, Toll and Gunnar.”

It’s silent for a long moment, before Lee, Caesar and Toll stand up, moving forward to shake (Y/n)’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you all.” She smiles pleasantly, shaking their hands firmly as she looks at them all, remaining close to Barney. 

It takes Gunnar a moment, but he eventually joins them in standing, taking her proffered hand with a flabbergasted expression. 

“You never told us you had a girlfriend.” He mutters to Barney, cocking his head to the side as he returns to his seat with the others, watching as his leader helps his girlfriend onto a chair of her own. 

“No, I, err, didn’t know how you guys would react.” Barney rubs the back of his neck, chuckling humorlessly. 

“Why?” Lee questions, blunt as always.

Barney looks at (Y/n) briefly, before sighing and continuing to speak.

"Because of my age. Let's be honest, how many sixty-year-olds have pregnant girlfriends? I reckon you could count on one hand. I thought you might find it weird, or something. I don't know, I'm no good with words." The mercenary explains haltingly, frowning a little.

"When in the fuck have we ever showed any interest in your personal life?" Caesar bursts out after a moment, grinning as he says it. 

"Yeah, Barney, none of us could give a toss that you've got a girlfriend who's younger than you. If anything, we're happy that you're finally not the sad old loner in the bar anymore." Lee lifts his bottle, smirking at his leader.

Blinking, Barney sits back in his seat, confused by the reaction until Toll leans forwards and emphasises the point.

"Barney, we're happy for you." He smiles, winking at him as Gunnar agrees, somewhat grudgingly. 

"See, I told you." (Y/n) ribs Barney, nudging him with her elbow as she grins and laughs at his bewildered expression, "You've known these guys for far too fucking long to be getting worried about their opinion of a girl."

At her words, Lee gives her an appreciative glance and nods, sensing a pointed look at Barney.

"See? Even she knows you're an old fool." He quips, chuckling.

"Old fool? How many times has this old fool gotten your asses out of trouble, hm?" Barney grins, "I guess you're right. I am a bit of a fool."

"Yeah, but we all love you." (Y/n) reassures him, rolling her eyes playfully as the guys make sounds of mocking disagreement, "Wow, some friends you have!" 

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