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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Tsukauchi Naomasa, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Nedzu (My Hero Academia) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Deaf Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Villain Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Past Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, no beta we die like sir nighteye Summary:
Hizashi is spiralling; his hero career is on the brink of collapse, no radio station will give him a shot and he isn’t sure how much more he can take.
When people start turning up beaten half to death, they lead him to an underground quirk fighting ring. Could it be the big break he needs to save his career or will the mysterious Referee show him something better?
#guys… its finally here#my monster#the phantom haunting my dreams#the source of more breakdowns than i can count#it is… The Villain Fic#holy shit#ive talked about this thing so many times#ive been working on it for three years to the damn Day#and its actually out#please read it askjlfhgafshajakfls you have no idea how much this fic means to me#this thing has been my white whale#i hope people enjoy it lmao ive worked harder on this than anything in my life#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#it’s hard to be the bard#erasermic#aizawa shouta#eraserhead#present mic#yamada hizashi#dadzawa#mha#bnha#dadmic
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Ok ravenwatch fuckers, where do you find the house ravenwatch sash? I’ve been stealing in rivenspire for days and I’ve had no luck.
#eso#house ravenwatch#aviel rambles#pls guys this things has been my treasure white whale#I’ve tried all of rivenspire including pickpocketing and nothing#i tried stormhaven and nothing#does it drop from a specific npc type is it nobles?
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Hhhhhhhhh 👀✨
#I found an animatic I've been looking for for the past two years 'cause it got privated like almost immediately after it was uploaded#Well *unlisted but might as well be the same thing since it's not in any of the OP's playlists#But also confirmed unlisted since I found it again!#Still gives me chills I can be at peace finally hh#I finally bucked up and looked up how to Actually view All the YouTube likes and not just the 5000 that YT is willing to show you#/If/ the pages loads if you're lucky which lbrh - my computer could not handle lol#But! Y'know what it can handle? Going into the backrooms of Google just to sift through the data /they have/ but refuse to be upfront about#It's literally in your privacy data under like three submenus but I got it! I did it! I found it! I have it now! Fuck yeah!#Pleased as punch I'mma go back as far as it'll let me and see what guys are lurking around down there#I even found a video that I thought had been deleted but was actually also unlisted! Excellent!#Maybe my white whale has secretly been unlisted this whole time and I /don't/ have to get a VPN to say I'm in Russia to view it lol#Update: I'm finding all kinds of stuff and I'm having a delightful time
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I tried to find more information about Albert here. There is an article in The Mirror, but some of the reporting seems dubious. Which I believe is standard operating procedure for that particular news outlet.
But according to the article, "Fat Albert" lives in the very specific area of "Alaska, USA" and is believed to be the fattest polar bear in the world. And they claim he got fat because the townspeople of "Alaska, USA" are following an ancient tradition that dates back "thousands of years."
"The locals throw out large amounts of whale blubber to the bears as a sign of 'respect'. They would cut a large portion of the whale and blubber, and drag it four miles out of town for the bears to find. This stops the bears from travelling into town to harvest and disrupting the process. In other words, it's a way to stop a group of hungry bears coming towards you in a hurry."
From supplemental research there is precedent for folks in Russia and Alaska to leave whale carcasses for polar bears, but I could not find any corroborating evidence about Albert specifically.
So, I rate this myth...
In any case, when I saw this picture of Albert, it seemed like a good opportunity to practice my Photoshop skills. He has clearly been rolling around in some mud and his beautiful white coat has been obscured.
It is very easy to change the color of something to red, blue, or green and every color in between. Just hit that hue/saturation and check colorize and you've got Pride Albert in a jiffy.
However, it is much more challenging to change things to white or black. This is the bane of graphic designers who have to take the same picture of a t-shirt and digitally alter it to be every available color including black and white.
So I challenged myself to give Fat Albert a bath.
And then I challenged myself again to make him a distant relative.
I wish I could tell you the exact process for how to do this, but this is one of those things you have to trial and error your way through and I honestly don't remember everything I did.
One thing I can tell you is that I definitely, absolutely, positively named all my layers properly—as that is best practice and I am a good Photoshop boy.
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There's a beautiful model of time travel called hypertime, which so far as I know was invented by qntm. You can read about it here.
The general idea is that there's an infinite stack of universes, possibly with a "prime" universe, each temporally offset from each other by some small amount (or just being continuous). You can imagine all of time on a chart where a properly sloped diagonal defines a specific time (e.g. January 1st, 2001), every horizontal line defines a single universe from its past to present, and every vertical line defines multiple universes that are "initially" arranged so that they're equivalent to "down" being backward in time and "up" being forward in time.
My plan was to write a fanfic of the NBC show Timeless using this model, rather than the one they use in the show. I see now that this was hugely more ambitious than Timeless ever deserved.
The big thing that keeps drawing me to this idea like a moth to flame is that there are cool things you can do with it. Here's one of them: a person goes to what they think of as "back in time", which is actually "down" on the time sheet, and ends up in a past that's different from the one they remember. How cool is that??
You intend to go to the past to see what's on Nixon's missing 18 minutes, and instead find yourself in a universe where the Nazis won WWII. And if you're operating under the assumption your time machine works like the one in Back to the Future, you're suddenly extremely confused. So you go back in time again, heading to just before the outbreak of WWII, and ... it's completely normal, with no sign that anyone has been monkeying around.
This is my white whale of a scene: the revelation that it all actually does make sense, the unfolding implications, the machinations of all the major time traveling factions and their goals.
I'm not actually sure that such a scene can be written in such a way that the majority of the audience would get it. Hypertime is hellish. Diagrams would help, but I'm not sure how much, especially because one of the things that (this subset of) hypertime assumes is some level of determinism and the inability to talk about "when" things happen except using reference frames.
As an added bonus, hypertime makes it possible to have diverse scenarios such that you can be wrong about how time travel works multiple times. You start out thinking that it's a stable time loop, you eventually see that contradicted and realize that it must be branching timelines, you see that contradicted and decide that it's ripple effect, and you see that contradicted and end up realizing that you're in this stupidly complicated hypertime setup. It has the potential to be the most complicated time travel story of all time. It has the potential to have the greatest number of explanations of time travel in a story, many of them incorrect.
I am at the point where I have an almost intuitive understanding of hypertime, but it took me drawing a lot of diagrams to get there, and I'm not sure I possess the writerly ability to explain it properly, especially if there are misdirects built into it.
A man can dream though.
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i want to wear his initial. . ryan baker
to celebrate thanksgiving finally streaming, take this idea that’s been rotting in my head for weeks since i saw this ad.
warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive conversation, afab!reader, unprotected sex ( please don’t do this? ), smut!, pnv, my literal first time writing smut be nice to me or else.
your eyes lit up the second it came across your tiktok for you page, you knew ryan would question the charge on his card from a website other than your usual haunts but explaining it away as a small business you found on your explore page seemed to be good enough for him.
you were known all over your campus for your fashion sense, your 2000’s inspired outfits drawing the attention of everyone you passed by, more specifically the ‘whale tail’ that was never missing from an outfit, the strings of your usually neon coloured thongs peeking above the waistband of your low rise jeans.
today was no different, your low rise jeans and white baby-tee, the neon pink strings high on your hips with the custom sparkly letter charms adorning the back; ryan.
“hey, baby” ryan greeted with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips after spotting you from across the courtyard, blissfully unaware of what everyone was double taking to read.
“hi” you giggled against his lips, pressing another quick kiss to them before pulling away “you got class?”
different degrees, same campus. it was actually how you’d met ryan, some sorority party during your first semester.
“not for another hour..” his voice trailed off, eyes looking past you at the pair of girls that had pointed at your back “turn around for me, baby. think you got something on you..”
you play dumb, turning your back to him and looking over your shoulder. you revel in the look on his face, how his eyes can’t look away from your ass, how his eyebrows have raised and his mouth is agape, and how he tries to subtly adjust himself in his jeans but fails miserably.
“is there something there?” you ask, like you don’t know exactly what it is he’s staring at.
there’s a second of silence, ryan’s brain short circuiting as he struggles to catch up with the real world continuing around him. he shakes his head before grabbing your arm, leading you towards the library without a word and ushering you into the bathroom.
“ryan, i have a class” you giggle, making no attempt to stop him when he pushes you against the door and latches his mouth to your neck.
“don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin, a hand creeping under the fabric of your shirt and towards your breasts, groaning when he realises you aren’t wearing a bra “fuck, baby, think this is the hottest thing i’ve ever fucking seen.”
his free hand slips a finger around the band of the thong, pulling it away from your body and releasing it with a snap. ryan’s mouth swallows your gasp as its back on yours, kissing you roughly like he’s trying to consume you entirely.
your hand trails down to the waistband of his own jeans, feeling his hard on pressing against your lower stomach as he presses you against the door, his tongue roaming around the inside of your mouth.
“easy, baby.” ryan chuckles, pulling your hand away with his own. in a fluid movement he has you bent over the bathroom sink, reaching round to unbutton your jeans and shove them down your legs “don’t remember putting you in charge.” his middle and ring fingers tease your clit through the bright pink fabric, watching your reaction in the mirror as your mouth falls open in a silent moan.
ryan applies a little more pressure, rubbing slow circles as his free hand frees his cock from his jeans and teasingly runs it back and fourth along your folds.
“quick teasing,” you huff, hooking your thumbs around the band of your underwear to remove them when ryan lands a light slap to your clit in warning.
“these stay,” he speaks matter of factly, moving the fabric to the side and groaning as he pushes into you “wanna see my name every time i look down at my cock filling you up, princess.”
#manheimsmuse#milo manheim#milo manheim x reader#ryan baker#ryan baker x reader#ryan thanksgiving#ryan baker smut#milo manheim smut#smut
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Most people don't have any understanding of what has been lost in Lahaina Town. Not just lives and property, but an entire town.
Most people hear "a city/town in Hawaii" and they picture probably resorts. And there are plenty of resorts nearby. But those are all fine.
Lahaina was an old whaling town dating back to the original colonization by white settlers. Before white people arrived, it was the capital of the island, where the high chief ruled, including Kamehameha the Great. The buildings are old, wooden, and crowded together. Obviously that was a problem in the face of the insanely fast wildfire.
But these weren't mansions, Mc or otherwise. It was a tourist town, a destination for cute, spendy shopping and dining, full of art galleries. (OMG THE GALLERIES. There was so much ART lost. There was original Dr. Seuss art in one gallery when I was there in January. That's gone now. Etc.)
But the people who lived and worked in Lahaina were mostly working class, working retail and restaurant jobs, living in old apartments and small houses. Lots of elderly, lots of non-white in a wide range of ethnicities, old hippies who have been there since the 60s and 70s. Yeah they were probably a little better off than people who drive in from other places to work in West Maui, at least because their property was high value, if they owned. But they lived without A/C, hung their laundry on lines, biked to work, called in sick to go surfing when the waves were up. There was a Chinese cultural center and a Buddhist temple, two different structures, if that tells you anything. Multiple museums housing historic items and cultural centers.
And the town will be rebuilt, in some form, I imagine. Or re-developed, more likely. People who are now homeless, who can't afford to rebuild or pay for two residences while the recovery happens will be bought out by deep pocketed developers. If they rebuild Lahaina Town I'm afraid it will be Lahaina Town tm by Disney.
Another fake paradise for tourists with lava rock from the Big Island. Another bit of Hawaii swallowed by capitalism and climate change.
I'm not painting everything about Lahaina as it was as perfect. Front Street was an often gaudy display of brand names and hucksters out to shovel in the tourist dollars. And of course the politics of Hawaii are incredibly complex and fraught in so many ways. I'm just a mainlander haole. I will never live on the islands, despite my family there constantly asking me to move. But I've spent more time there than anywhere I haven't lived, almost all of that time in West Maui.
My mom works in a building that is not there anymore. She just described that job to me as "the last job she'll ever have" as she's 79 and very happy with working two days a week selling t-shirts to cruise ship people. My brother has worked in a gallery on front street for the last ten years.
I don't know. A city of almost 15,000 permanent residents is just gone. 50 or so are confirmed dead, in some horrific circumstances from what I hear.
My mom says people are just walking around with thousand-yard-stares, aimless, clutching cell phones trying to get signal (there isn't any, but you can get lucky and get a call through. Some texts are going in but not out.)
So I don't know folks. Keep those people in your thoughts. If you can donate, I think this may be a good place because it's going to lots of local orgs on the ground: https://www.hawaiicommunityfoundation.org/maui-strong
I keep thinking of new sad things.
Anyway I'm going to leave you with a picture I took while strolling down Front Street one evening.
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The Queen’s Guard - Chapter 2: Seen
cw: dark themes, dubcon/noncon, *read at your own discretion*
word count: 2.7k
[<<< chapter 1]
The weeks had been exhausting, to say the least.
You were used to being pulled in a hundred directions everyday, used to being the face for the kingdom, put on show like a prize horse in your fanciest dresses and most dazzling jewels.
But, all you could think when you see your reflection is how heavy they feel; the faceted rubies and diamonds are just pretty chains to you, the uncomfortable whale-bone corset around your waist is a cage, the pounds and pounds of bright velvet and silks weigh you down, making your urge to flee a vain one.
I would never get far.. Though, if I jumped into the pond, I doubt they would ever be able to lift me out in time- would they say it was a tragic accident?
“My Queen.”
The brassy voice startles you from your own thoughts, your eyes meeting warm copper in the mirror image. They aren’t concerned, not really; if anything, you think you see the faintest hint of frustration in his shadowed expression,
“The King waits..”
Oh, right. You were still sat at your vanity, the boar-bristle brush still clutched between your fingers, your long waves hanging freely over your shoulder and back, body only covered in a flowing, white nightgown. And very suddenly, you’re too aware of just how exposed you are in your guard’s presence, too aware of how warm his gaze feels lingering on your skin before he looks away just as quickly.
“Thank you, Ser Simon..” You let your head fall forward, your hair covering the bloom of red that’s settled over your cheeks.
He’s been an attentive guard in his short tenure with you, and at times, you’ve found it quite eerie, the silent way he moves, the way his eyes track everything around you, how his mind and his senses could possibly be so intensely focused on everything all at once.
But, what unsettles you the most is how seen you feel.
The knight has this uncanny ability to read you, as if he were fluent in your body language, in every tiny expression that might possibly flash across your features at any given time. Such as when he sees the way your eyelids settle low over your eyes when you’ve grown weary of a particular conversation, or the way you clench and unclench your fingers when you become restless, the way your jaw flexes when you’re angry-
He’s quickly picked up on every little thing, and you’re still not sure if your find it annoying or are grateful for it,
“Elia?” You call for the young handmaid, her slight figure approaching quickly as Simon’s retreats, “If you’ll just set out my things, you’re free to enjoy the rest of your night.”
After your nights with the King, you preferred the comfort of solitude, preferred to take care of yourself afterward. And by now, it is just as much a part of this primal ritual as the act itself, and the more distant part of you almost looked forward to it- to the after- when you get to be alone.
Because you so rarely ever get to be thoroughly alone..
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
She goes about setting out the small basket of certain items you usually need to get through these nights, a vile of purified olive oil, fresh aloe vera and witch hazel for the times your King might have had a rough day beforehand- clean cloths, et cetera-
“Thank you.” You nod at Elia, giving her a soft smile before looking toward your guard to give him the same gesture; you were as ready as you could be, no sense in putting it off any longer.
As soon as your chambers door is pulled open, His Majesty himself sweeps in- and you just know he’s in a mood-
“Husband.. You look well.”
You notice the door hasn’t closed yet, looking beyond your husband’s slightly smaller frame to see Simon looking back at you- and you realize this is the first time he has been present for these nights, and the look in his eye is full of something..
He can’t possibly look angry, can he? No.. that’s absurd-
You give a small nod, watching how he regards you for a moment longer before returning the movement and closing the doors behind him.
Looking back at your King, it’s all too easy to forget that he’s a handsome man, with his sweeping dark hair and lean muscular build; but there’s something about the ice in his blue eyes that has always made you feel cold in his presence. Even when he steps closer, wide palms resting on your cheek and hip, you don’t really feel the heat of his touch, your body knows what’s coming, but, even so, it fails to find arousal.
“Ah, my pet.. beautiful as ever.”
You’re not sure ‘hate’ is the right word to describe his little name for you, because it doesn’t feel endearing or sweet in the slightest, the way he says it is demeaning and possessive. Like he wants to reiterate and reaffirm that you really are nothing more than bitch in heat for him- but that’s fine, you don’t really think you could handle it if he actually wanted to spend more time with you.
These few times themselves were hard enough to get through; and in the years since the first time he bedded you, you’ve been studious in learning how to work him up to get it over with sooner, rather than later-
“My King..” You drawl, reaching for the leather ties on his trousers, “How I’ve missed you.”
He pushes you down to your knees slowly, eyes never leaving your face, “Hmm.. What have you missed, sweet pet?”
His length falls into your hand easily, already fattening with need, and you’ve never seen anyone other than him like this, so you suppose he’s large- he fits in your palm nicely, your fingers wrapping around his shaft,
“This, my love..”
You look up at him with wide eyes, and watch his head roll back the moment the soft flesh of his tip slides through your lips-
This is how it always starts, and for all you know, this is really all there is to it. Because once you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and his grip on your hair tightens painfully, you know it will be over soon.
Thank the fucking gods above.
Tugging you up and over toward the sprawling bed, he turns you, watching as you settle on your knees before him, the nightgown falling up your torso, ass in the air, just as he prefers.
Your back arches for his touch, and you bite into your bottom lip as he pushes into your heat- it’s tight and uncomfortable, but that never stops him, he simply leans down to grab the glass of oil before continuing at a brutal pace.
There are no noises made other than the lewd, rhythmic smack of skin against skin, and you’re not sure if it’s seconds or minutes before his breaths grow heavy, his grip becoming a bruising hold on your hips until he slams into you one final time- the familiar, slightly nauseating, warmth pulsing deep in your core as he fills you yet again.
And is it horrible that you now truly hope it takes?
Not because you want to give the wretched man a child, an heir, or that you want to see your belly grow distended and your tits swell into nothing more than a cow’s udder for his helpless babe; but because if it takes, that means you’ll be free of your wifely duties to him for a blissful nine months-
His hand comes down harshly on your bare buttcheek, the sharp pain causing you to gasp out a pitiful sound, followed by a nasally chuckle as he pulls out of your channel without ceremony- surely enjoying the way his spend dribbles down between your thighs as he does,
“How do you like your new guard? Quite the interesting choice you made.”
Yanking at your garments, you stand along with him, not bothering to meet his eyes as you speak,
“He’s fit in well. A proper shadow, as he should be, no?”
There’s a noncommittal sort of grunt made, the sound of leather straining as he ties the straps at his waist before stepping closer.
And what he does next, you really don’t know if he does it because he feels something, no, certainly not- or if he does it because he thinks it’s what you want, which you do not- but he leans down to take your lips. It’s always a harsh and clashing kiss, over just as quickly as the rest of it,
“He’s a protective shadow, isn’t he?”
A flare of anger courses through you at the sly and prodding comment, and it takes more than a deep breath to settle the surge of violence that burns through your gut.
But, your mouth has always seemed to move faster than your brain, unfortunately,
“Well that’s his job, isn’t it?” You shoot back, fingers tangled in your own hair as you twist it into a loose braid, “Pray tell, are you planning to kill this one, too, husband? A warning would be-”
Before you can properly react, a hot, searing pain explodes across your cheek- the force of his back handed slap rattles through your head, and a small whimper is all you give him before biting your tongue and casting your eyes down to the floor.
“You’d do well to mind that smart mouth of yours, wife. Maybe you should be focused on providing my kingdom an heir instead of your witty remarks..” His voice drops into a mocking tone as you flinch away from his touch, “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, pet?”
There’s a crack in the floor that consumes all your attention, but you still nod sweetly, “Of course, Sire.”
Too-wet lips push against your hairline, his palm settled at the nape of your neck, “Good girl..”
Praise has never felt so degrading than when it comes from him. It makes you want to crawl into yourself, hide away from the world-
Fuck, how did you ever get here. How could this possibly be your life? You remember the stories told to you as a little girl, practically memorized them- and this, these horrors were never written into your tales.
Or, perhaps, they were just conveniently left out..
Because you were so sure then, so sure if there was true love in this world, that if anyone would find it, it must be you, right? You had been betrothed to the King since you were just a babe, a perfect little girl born to unite your kingdoms in peace and prosperity-
Ha.. and look at you, now. Poor little Queen.. how foolish I was-
“Your Grace.”
Damn it…
You look towards the door, seeing the black clad figure blocking out nearly the entire width; and it’s only when he sees your face head on, that his body flinches forward- eyes widening behind the sharp angles of his helm.
Clearing your throat, you turn away from him, waving your hand, “I’m tired. And I’m sure your relief will be here soon, just go, Ser. I relieve you in his stead.”
“You’re bleedin’..”
His voice holds none of the usual harshness this time, and it’s like his words turn on the part of your brain that registers pain- hissing when your fingers graze over the deep split at the corner of your mouth.
There’s crimson on the very tip of your finger when you pull away, and the color seems too bright, too foreign in your eyes; the King had never struck you before, yet he managed to draw blood the very first time.
Was I really so weak, and simply never knew it?
A piece of cloth replaces where your fingers had been, and your next breath catches in the back of your throat from the unexpected contact, the surprising gentility in his touch. He’s close now, closer than he’s ever dared come- and you know you should be disgusted at his blatant lack of decorum, you should reprimand him and command him to leave; but, you don’t.
Instead, your eyes travel slowly, up and up the breadth of his armored chest and neck, until finally, you meet his eyes. They’re steady on your lips at first, but like every time before, they find yours quickly- his gaze just as intense as ever.
Gods, has he moved closer?
He’s close enough you can smell him now, his rich scent overwhelming you with each warm breath he exhales and you inhale. He smells like vetiver and steel, warm and cold, like the first frost of winter, and the first cup of spiced wine in the fall-
“Shall I call for your handmaid, My Queen?”
My Queen.. My Queen- it plays over and over in my head, always and only ever in his honeyed voice.. I hate it- no, I don’t.. but shouldn’t I?
It’s just.. He does not say it like the others- he doesn’t say it just out of respect and title, no- gods, it’s like he’s praying when he speaks those two measly words. There is devoutness in his tone and reverie in his gaze- But, that can’t be right. You are just upset right now, reeling from the night, from the week prior, and the weeks before that.
You’re simply imagining these things, giving importance where none is due. You just need to rest-
Tired, yes. That’s all.
“No..” You don’t mean to whisper, but his proximity steals your voice, “I’m fine.. Please- Go.”
Your neck is still craned looking up at him, your lips parted as you struggle to control your breaths, and maybe it’s the stupidest thing you could do, but you find yourself unable to stop. You let your fingers wrap over his gauntlet, not really pulling him away, but hoping he does it on his own- because you don’t think you could, you don’t think you really want to.
“Please..” You beg again, even quieter than before.
Simon gives a small sigh, his head tilting, eyes searching your face again- though, for what, you can’t be sure. But, after a slow blink, he takes one step back, then another, until he’s at your chamber’s door- and you’re forced to realize how painfully cold you feel in his absence.
“Sleep well, My Queen.”
Your knees buckle before the latch is even properly closed, the stone floor unforgiving as you all but collapse into yourself- trying so hard to be quiet, because you’re the Queen, and Queens do not sob, Queens do not let priceless rugs soak up their tears, or wish to drown in them, all the same.
The Queen should be grateful, should be proud of her station, of the gift bestowed upon her by her fortunate bloodlines.
Queens are strong, or they’re supposed to be. And you think you were strong once.. when the world still appeared beautiful and rosy in tint, when the promise of all the things that could be were still so bright and full of wonder.
You don’t consider yourself strong anymore. You feel like a ship without sails, listing dangerously in the stormy waters, entirely at the mercy of the sea. Waiting, just waiting for that one perfect rogue wave to capsize you, to wash you away into the nothingness-
But, truthfully, and it’s a truth you’ll never speak aloud, a truth that sits with you, hangs over you- you really don’t know how much longer you can stand to keep playing this charade of a life.
Not when the dark waters look so appetizing, so peaceful.
She doesn't know that her guard stays just beyond the thick wood, that he listens to her quiet sobs until he’s sure that she’s managed to cry herself to sleep.
It’s a haunting sound to him, for reasons he can’t explain or understand.
Because Simon Riley is not a good man, he is merciless and unkind, a woman weeping has surely never stopped him before- yet, with The Queen, the anguish and desperation in her cries claw at him, they dig themselves into his muscle and marrow.
He only ever wanted this position because he was truly tired, utterly weary and exhausted to his core-
But, His Queen.. she changed everything.
a/n: thank you for being here!
[Chapter 3 >>>]
#knight!ghost#simon x reader#simon riley x you#fic: the queens guard#call of duty#cod fandom#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#simon riley x reader#reader is the queen#obsessed#ao3 transfer
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could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!
Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!
Morning Light
Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.
Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.
“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.
“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”
You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.
“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.
His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.
“I’m sure.”
“But… really? So soon after…”
You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for.
Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.
Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.
“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.
“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”
You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.
“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.
“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”
Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.
“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”
His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.
His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.
“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.
You try to contain a laugh.
“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”
“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”
Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.
“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”
Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose.
“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.
Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.
“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.
“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.
Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.
“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.
His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.
“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”
The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.
“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”
“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.
He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.
“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.
You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.
“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”
Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.
“Every part of you is beautiful.”
He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.
Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip.
“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.
“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.
“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”
You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.
“Jim… more,” you plead.
You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.
“J-Jim-”
You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.
When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.
“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.
“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.
He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.
“Like I’m floating.”
“That good, huh?”
You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.
“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.
“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.
Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.
But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.
“Feels good?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.
“One more,” you beg.
“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”
You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”
Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.
“Still alright?”
“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.
“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”
His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.
“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”
There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.
“Jim?” you sigh.
“Hm?”
“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”
You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.
“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”
Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.
“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”
You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.
“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.
“I am.”
You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.
“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.
“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”
Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.
“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.
“Jim…” you start to complain.
“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.
He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.
“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.
“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.
“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.
“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”
Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.
“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”
You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.
“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.
He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.
“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.
“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”
Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.
“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”
You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.
“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”
“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”
“Yes…”
And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.
“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.
“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.
“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”
You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.
But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.
“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.
“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.
He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.
“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.
Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.
“That was incredible,” he praises, softly.
You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.
But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive.
“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?
“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”
“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.
Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.
“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.
“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.
Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.
“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”
Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.
As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.
“Jim?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he scoffs.
Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.
“For always being here for me,” you answer.
“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”
You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.
#jim 28 days later#jim 28 days later x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#28 days later smut#jim 28 days later smut#LemmyFics
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bts as my favourite sharks !!! (and why)
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
(a list no one asked for but i will deliver) 🦈🫧
☆ namjoon: bull shark
one cool thing about bull sharks is that they can swim in both salt water and fresh water, super adaptable, super cool and hence why they’re namjoon. and in my humble little opinion, they’re just cooler versions of the great white 🧍🏻♀️ plus they’re like the big boy shark top of the shark food chain, perfect place for our favourite guy namjoon
☆ hobi: lemon sharks
i love lemon sharks because they have favourite humans, and love head pats, and form emotional connections with divers, and get jealous when their fav human being shows and attention to another lemon shark. 10/10 sociable shark, perfect for hobi
☆ jungkook: tiger shark
tiger sharks are just built different. and have probably had anything you can think of in their stomachs, they eat anything. they’re also known for having huge litters and after ‘seven’ and ‘3d’ 🤨 plus tiger sharks make it into my top 3 favourite sharks so maybe i’m a little biased
☆ yoongi: whale shark
whale sharks are gentle giants, and have been one of my favourite sharks since forever. and i think people think they’re scary because they’re huge, like school bus size. but they’re just cuties :( who eat lil shrimp and algae and have lil teeth and are so pretty. also random whale shark fact they can process more than 6000 litres of water every hour 🫡
☆ jimin: thesher shark
honestly just silly little guys 10/10 my favourite shark. they look like cuties but thresher sharks can stun their prey with their super cool tails, which i think if we’re looking at jimin and the sassy man agenda… don’t let cute looks fool you. also!!!! thresher sharks can jump out the water and do cool flips, comparable to jimin’s super cool contemporary dancing ☝️
☆ jin: hammerhead shark
a distinctive shark, and a distinctive face. hammerhead’s haven’t actually been around for as long as other species of shark, only existing for around 20-25 million years (where other sharks have been around since the dinosaurs), which may seem contradictory to jin’s age, however, this mf doesn’t age and has looked as young as he did the day he debuted
☆ tae: blacktip reef shark
black tip reef sharks are a little shy and skittish, and tae is often a little bashful, especially on live (in a very very taehyung way), so i feel they fit one another. however! that doesn’t mean they’re not social, which with bts and the wooga squad and everyone else tae meets, 10/10 black tip reef shark kinda guy
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I’m sorry but this scene…THIS SCENE…
“Matthias cast an uneasy glance at the guards’ backs, visible through the doorway. “Ignore them,” she said. “Why haven’t you kissed me, Matthias?”
“This isn’t the time—”
“Is it because of what I am? Is it because you still fear me?”
“No.”
She paused, and he could see her struggling with what she wanted to say. “Is it because of the way I behaved on the ship? The way I acted the other night … when I tried to get you to give me the rest of the parem?”
“How can you think that?”
“You’re always calling me shameless. I guess … I guess I’m ashamed.” She shuddered. “It’s like wearing a coat that doesn’t fit.”
“Nina, I gave you my oath.”
“But—”
“Your enemies are my enemies, and I will stand with you against any foe—including this accursed drug.”
She shook her head as if he was speaking nonsense. “I don’t want you to be with me because of an oath, or because you think you need to protect me, or because you think you owe me some stupid blood debt.”
“Nina—” he started, then stopped. “Nina, I am with you because you let me be with you. There is no greater honor than to stand by your side.”
“Honor, duty. I get it.”
Her temper he could bear, but her disappointment was unacceptable. Matthias knew only the language of war. He did not have the words for this. “Meeting you was a disaster.”
She raised a brow. “Thank you.”
Djel, he was terrible at this. He stumbled on, trying to make her understand. “But I am grateful every day for that disaster. I needed a cataclysm to shake me from the life I knew. You were an earthquake, a landslide.”
“I,” she said, planting a hand on her hip, “am a delicate flower.”
“You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once. You are a tidal wave. You’re a stampede. You are overwhelming.”
“And what would you prefer?” she said, eyes blazing, the slightest quaver to her voice. “A proper Fjerdan girl who wears high collars and dunks herself in cold water whenever she has the urge to do something exciting?”
“That isn’t what I meant!”
She sidled closer to him. Again, his eyes strayed to the guards. Their backs were turned, but Matthias knew they must be listening, no matter what language he and Nina were speaking. “What are you so afraid of?” she challenged. “Don’t look at them, Matthias. Look at me.”
He looked. It was a struggle not to look. He loved seeing her in Fjerdan clothes, the little woolly vest, the full sweep of her skirts. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, her lips slightly parted. It was too easy to imagine himself kneeling like a penitent before her, letting his hands slide up the white curves of her calves, pushing those skirts higher, past her knees to the warm skin of her thighs. And the worst part was that he knew how good she would feel. Every cell in his body remembered the press of her naked body that first night in the whaling camp. “I … There is no one I want more; there is nothing I want more than to be overwhelmed by you.”
“But you don’t want to kiss me?”
“He inhaled slowly, trying to bring order to his thoughts. This was all wrong.
“In Fjerda—” he began.
“We’re not in Fjerda.”
He needed to make her understand. “In Fjerda,” he persisted, “I would have asked your parents for permission to walk out with you.”
“I haven’t seen my parents since I was a child.”
“We would have been chaperoned. I would have dined with your family at least three times before we were ever left alone together.”
“We’re alone together now, Matthias.”
“I would have brought you gifts.”
Nina tipped her head to one side. “Go on.”
“Winter roses if I could afford them, a silver comb for your hair.”
“I don’t need those things.”
“Apple cakes with sweet cream.”
“I thought drüskelle didn’t eat sweets.”
“They’d all be for you,” he said.
“You have my attention.”
“Our first kiss would be in a sunlit wood or under a starry sky after a village dance, not in a tomb or some dank basement with guards at the door.”
“Let me get this straight,” Nina said. “You haven’t kissed me because the setting isn’t suitably romantic?”
“This isn’t about romance. A proper kiss, a proper courtship. There’s a way these things should be done.”
“For proper thieves?” The corners of her beautiful mouth curled and for a moment he was afraid she would laugh at him, but she simply shook her head and drew even nearer. Her body was the barest breath from his now. The need to close that scrap of distance was maddening.
“The first day you showed up at my house for this proper courtship, I would have cornered you in the pantry,” she said. “But please, tell me more about Fjerdan girls.”
“They speak quietly. They don’t engage in flirtations with every single man they meet.”
“I flirt with the women too.”
“I think you’d flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention.”
“If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice. Are you jealous?”
“All the time.”
“I’m glad. What are you looking at, Matthias?” The low thrum of her voice vibrated straight through him.
He kept his eyes on the ceiling, whispering softly. “Nothing.”
“Matthias, are you praying?”
“Possibly.”
“For restraint?” she said sweetly.
“You really are a witch.”
“I’m not proper, Matthias.”
“I am aware of this.” Miserably, keenly, hungrily aware.
“And I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re not proper either.”
His gaze dropped to her now. “I—”
“How many rules have you broken since you met me? How many laws? They won’t be the last. Nothing about us will ever be proper,” she said. She tilted her face up to his. So close now it was as if they were already touching. “Not the way we met. Not the life we lead. And not the way we kiss.”
“She went up on tiptoe, and that easily, her mouth was against his. It was barely a kiss—just a quick, startling press of her lips.
Before she could even think of moving away, he had hold of her. He knew he was probably doing everything wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry, because she was in his arms, her lips were parting, her hands were twining around his neck, and sweet Djel, her tongue was in his mouth. No wonder Fjerdans were so cautious about courtship. If Matthias could be kissing Nina, feeling her nip at his lip with her clever teeth, feel her body fitted against his own, hear her release that little sigh in the back of her throat, why would he ever bother doing anything else? Why would anyone?”
#i’m going feral#i’m going to cry#soc nina#soc matthias#six of crows matthias#matthias helvar#helnik#my ships#nina zenik#six of crows#crooked kingdom#six of crows nina
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Hivy, This is Ivy!
Throughout my time on Tumblr one of my favourite things to do has been to create hypothetical Minecraft updates, I've done this twice before with The Pigeon update and The Pond Update, but a few weeks ago I let you lot chose what geographic area I should turn into a hypothetical update
Yall chose Celtic Europe (and Oceania but that's for later) AKA, Ireland, Scotland, Whales and Cornwall. I was very glad with this outcome as I myself am Scottish and I had a lot of ideas for this…..too many ideas…. So many ideas that I had to cut an entire section and now some stuff feels barebones….whoops. (but hey now I can work on a full portion update later…yay.)
But, enough of that, let's move on to:
The Fae Update!
New Biomes + Structures
There are 6 new biomes in this hypothetical update, each referring a different local found in celtic europe these are: The White Cliffs,The Glacial Pass, The Wisteria Forrest The Heather Moorlands/Peat Bogs (take your pick), The Highland Forests, and… you'll see ;3
The White Cliffs
The White Cliffs are a new coastal biome, consisting of grass topped cliffs, sandy bays and rock structures jutting out of the water. Suspicious sand and gravel generates naturally here and loot from it follows the fishing loot table, though with an increased chance to find nautilus shells and a rare chance to find sniffer eggs
This biome is based on the White Cliffs of Dover and the Jurassic Coast
The White Cliffs has only three new features:
Puffins
A new passive abiant mob, they drop Feathers when killed. Instead of the normal birds nest (introduced in the pigeon update) puffins lay there eggs in “wall nests” grey nests that attach to walls, these can be used as a decorative block
Seagulls
A neutral mob who drops Feathers and fish when killed, they spawn both in the White Cliffs and on beaches and open Seas. Seagulls will attack the player if they are holding any food item in their hand, stealing it.
Seagulls serve no other purpose.
Chalk
Chalk is a new stone block. It has the blast resistance of wood and is exclusive to the white cliffs, making up the cliffs themselves.
Chalk can be dyed any of the dye colours in the game, creating a softer, more Pastel variant of that colour (queers rejoice). Chalk can be made into slabs, stairs and walls in the stone cutter.
The Glacial Pass
A cold mountainous biome, the Glacial past is mainly made of stone and deeplate, with ice and snow also being common. Dipstone spikes can be found here as well as gravel structures resembling Eskers and Terminal Moraines (yes my favourite subject is geography how can you tell?). Suspicious gravel can be found here as well as suspicious snow, which can also be found in the igloo. Strays, Polar Bears, Foxes and Rabbits Spawn in this environment
This biome is based on glaciated uplands
Seals
Seals can be found in all cold environments. Seals will follow the player when they swim, upon coming on to land Seals will bob in the afternoon expectantly.
Seals can be fed fish, clapping after this is done
Seals drop blubber when killed. Blubber can be crafted into blubber blocks, when lit on fire these blocks burn light yellow. Blubber can be used to make torches, lanterns and campfires.
Blubber can also be crafted into a chest plate, the blubber chest plate reduces projectile damage and prevents Frost damage in powdered snow, but it slows you down while on land
The Wisteria Forest
A replacement for the old flower Frocester, this is a rare forrest in which all natural flowers spawn
Purified water (a type of water introduced in the pond update that can cure harmful status effects and restore hunger permanently for a short time) would spawn here too, as well as unicorns and kelpies (introduced in the pond update, will be discussed later)
Other Mobs that Spawn here will be discussed later
Wisteria Trees
Wisteria trees are a new wood type. The wood itself is a pale green with a purplish grey bark. Wisteria leaves are pale lavender. Wisteria trees also have hanging leave variants, much like willow leaves (pond update) that grow in the same way as glow berries
Butterflies and Moths
Passive ambient mobs that spawn in all biomes, though moths are most common in dark oak forests and butterflies are most common here. Both come in many colours, much like tropical fish. These mobs are as large as the bees (traditional dictates that all Minecraft arthropods must be massive, also yes bane of arthropods works on these, but do you actually care?)
Butterflies and Moths drop their respective wings when killed, these can be grafted onto the elytra (using the dragonfly carapace, an mob drop from the dragon fly as introduced in the pond update, speaking of that, the Toad from that update will also eat Moths and Butterflies) grafting these wings on changes the electable texture to resemble the wings of these Mobs (Note: despite both having many textures the electric will always adopt The Lunar Moth and Monarch Butterfly texture respectively)
Crann Bethadh Sprout
The sprout of a legendary tree, this is a two tall plant with ever changing leaf colours, shifting throughout all the pastel colour variants
The player can take a cutting of this plant using shears
This plant can only be dug up by the sniffer
Flower Crowns
By combining any 4 flowers in a circular pattern in the crafting table players can make flower crowns. Flower crowns adopt the colours of whatever flowers were used to craft it. Flower crowns can be worn on the head and serve no purpose other than to make people look pretty ;3
Wisteria Grass
Wisteria grass is a new grass type block that is pale lavender. It behaves the same as grass. It is only found in the Wisteria forest
The Heather Moorlands
Heather Moorlands are made up of water, grass, mud and a new block. No trees and few other plants spawn here, but cattails, reeds (pond update), sea grass and lily pads would be common here.
Bogs would spawn here
Toads, Frogs and Dragonflies would spawn here
Heather Moorlands are based on….Heather Moorlands.
Peat
Peat is a new powered snow-like block. It is brown in colour and makes up most of the ground in the Heather moorlands. Any plant can be planted on it.
Falling through peat takes notably longer than it does for powdered snow, players cannot freeze in peat, only suffocate. Peat can be safely traversed with leather boots.
When broken, peat will break into Peat Logs, peat logs can be burned in the furnace as an effective fuel
When lit on fire, Peat burns Bright Red, peat logs can be used to make peat lanterns, campfires and torches.
Combining 4 peat logs together makes a peat block, smelting a peat block creates Hardened Peat. Harmed peat can be made into Smooth Peat, Chiselled Peat, Peat Bricks, Cut Peat, Peat Pillar and Peat Tiles
Gortach
The Gortach are a new Undead mob. They spawn in swamps and peat bogs and resemble Bog bodies. They hide in dirt, mud, sand, gravel and peat and jump out of the ground to attack.
Gortach inflicts poison with their attacks. Gortach can carry swords, axes, and spears
Gortach drop their weapon, peat logs or Rotten flesh when killed
Spears
Spears are crafted either with one iron ingot and two sticks in a diagonal pattern, or are dropped by the Gortach
Spears are weaker than the sword but have a better reach, can be thrown (though this isn't good for their durability) and completely bypass shields and armour, hitting the opponent as if they had nothing at all
Spears have all the same enchantments as the Sword + Loyalty
Heather
Heather is a new purple flower exclusive to the Heather Moorlands. It gives purple dye when ground up.
The Highland Forest
Made up of rolling hills and Birch trees, all normal passive Mobs can spawn here, but sheep, goats,bees and cows are most common. All normal hostile Mobs can spawn here
Loch Lurkers (a rare UnderWater horse-like mob from the pond update) also spawn in the lakes here
Birch Updates
Yep. This is a secret Birch forest update.
A new form of Birch tree “Silver Birch” that grows much taller and has yellow leaves can be found here. This form gets its own sapling
The Birch block would also get a minor update to make the black segments more like stripes and not ugly blobs
Leave Updates, Packed Leaves and Thatching
Players and Mobs can now walk and fall through leaves.
When breaking leaves with anything other than shears or silk touch leaf blocks will drop leaf items (except wisteria and Spruce, which drop Petals and Needles)
By placing 9 of these in the crafting bench the player can create packed leaves, a new solid version of the leaf block
Thatching is a new block of greyish colour that is crafted with 6 wheat on the top and bottom and 3 leaves of any type in the centre of the crafting bench. Thatching looks the same as a Hale Bale, only without the string holding it together.
Goosegrass, Nettles, and Thistle
Goosegrass is a plant that grows in any forest, but is most common in the Highlands. Walking through goosegrass results in it sticking to you, taking up one of your unoccupied armour slots and slowing you down. Walking through it at all also slows you down, much like cobwebs, making this plant dangerous when fighting mobs
Nettles can only spawn in Dark oak and Highland forests. Nettles stay low to the ground, if they are walked on by a player they are inflicted with Poison. Nettles can be collected and made into a healthy soup
Thistles are a new type of two high flowers. They can be ground into purple dye. They hurt the player if walker through
Deer
Deer are a new mob found in all forested environments, much like Wolf's they have different textures depending on the biome
When killed, Deers drop Venison, a new edible meat
Like Goats, Deers will try to charge the player. Also like Goats, after hitting a block deer will drop and antler
Fog
Fog is a new weather type, lowering the amount the player can see for a short time and allowing a few Mobs to spawn, particularly endermen
Shelf Fungus
A new decorative block that grows on trees
Wildcats
Wildcats are a new ambient Mob, they share a model with Ocelots and Cats and they drop string when killed
The Mushroom Grotto
Oh yes. A new forest of giant mushrooms and mycelium. This biome is very rare. The Mobs that Spawn here will be discussed later
Mushroom Wood
Much like the nether mushrooms, overworld mushrooms are now a woodtype. The mushroom stem can be stripped and converted into all wood blocks. Mushroom wood is white in colour.
New Mushrooms
Yep. There is now a mushroom for every colour of dye in the game. Mushrooms can also now be ground into dye
Here's what all those mushrooms could look like (minus brown and red of course):
(Note: this is based on design, not colour)
Before moving on, sniffers don't just get the Crann Bethadh Sprout. They get a new plant for every dye type in the game
Plus, they can dig up two new mushrooms exclusive to them, when ground these mushrooms become two new dye types… Well, not quite. They Become Rose Dye and Spring Green Dye, the two removed wool colours. This is the only way to get these mushrooms and these dyes. This would make the sniffer more worth the work put in to get one and create a lot of more strange decoration choices
Here's what they COULD look like (note: again, colours don't line up)
Mushroom bricks
Smelting the Mushroom blocks (not the stem, the block itself) creates mushroom bricks: multicoloured bricks taking on the patterning of the mushroom used to make them
Mushroom bricks can be made into stairs, slabs and walls
Puffball Mushrooms and Faerie Rings
Both exclusive to the mushroom forest.
Puffball mushrooms are brown in colour and are plants that stay on the ground, when walked over they release spores that inflict harmful status effects such as Poison, blindness, slowness, weakness, nausea, lethitatvia, and mining fatigue
Faerie Rings are Rings of mushrooms that take up one block on the ground (they also come in all colours)
If a player steps on one it is like they are walking through cobwebs, and upon getting out they will be inflicted with slowness.
If a mob steps in one they completely freeze and their AI is disabled until they are knocked out or the ring is broken.
This would help allow players to use Mobs as decoration without lagging there game
New Structures
Bothies
A bothy is a public structure found typically in the Highlands, there small houses for folks to take shelter in.
Bothines can spawn in any woodland biomes, they'll appear as a simple wooden house. Inside Bothies will have a chest with low level loot and a bed.
Occasionally, suspicious sand,mud, gravel or snow will spawn outside the bothy (depending on the biome), these typically have low level loot but items such as armour Trims or record disks can be dug up
Stone Works
Based on the numerous palaeolithic celtic stoneworks,these are small abiant structures spawning in the Dark Oak, Highland and Wisteria forests, as well as Heather Moorlands, Snowy Tundras, Wetlands and Mushroom Grottos
There would be many variants of these structures resembling stone circles, stone henges, standing stones, stone portals and cobbled walls.
All of these are made from base stone blocks, though sometimes other blocks can be found like chalk flooring or trees/water spawning in the centre of a stone circle
Sometimes, though rarely, these structures could spawn with a “Stone Holder” a new block that holds a tool or weapon (similar to the myth of the sword and the stone) these can be moved with silk touch. The player can remove the weapon, which will always be made of iron (that's important for later) and could have some low-level enchamtmants
Occasionally, these can also structures spawn with suspicious dirt, which can be dug up with the brush. Pottery sherds are more common in these structures, but apart from that, they exist only as set dressing ;)
Castle Ruins
A more substantial ruin, Castle Ruins can spawn basically anywhere, but are most common in Highland forests.
Castle Ruins are winding structures, they have a Dungeon below with Gortach or Bog spawners in the cells. The main ruin itself is made up of narrow passageways, imagine a smaller version of the bastion.
There would be numerous loot chests around, but upon opening one, a new mob would be summoned called a ■■■■■■
This mob will be discussed later :)
The Beast's Lair
An underground structure most common under the mountains or Highland forests
Made up of narrow passages leading to open rooms filled with gold blocks, loot chests containing riches and even some new vaults. There's also a shocking amount of skulls littered around
And of course the new boss here: The Wyvern
The Wyvern is a draconic boss mob spawning only hear, it has 4 legs and two wings and is bright red (Note: no. Wyvern never meant a dragon with only 4 limbs. That is a modern addition. Wyvern and dragons were different because of what they breathed)
The Wyvern is very powerful up close and can attack from far away with its poisonous breath
Upon its defeat the Wyvern will drop copious amounts of gold and emeralds that it ate, perhaps even some diamonds if your lucky
Faerie Mounds
Spawning exclusively in the Wisteria Forests, Highland Forests and Mushroom Grottos, these are small dirt hills with a spawner inside and a handful of loot chests
They are essentially fae Dungeons
The mobs that Spawn here will be: you guessed it, discussed later
Clochan + The Dubnos Tunnels
Clochans are typically just an abiant structures common in the Highlands, small cobblestone huts with nothing interesting about them.
But occasionally, they lead to something greater. Some of them spawn with holes leading to a second structure made up of 5 rooms, oriented in this pattern:
In the centre room are 5 stones, each baring a carving of one of the 5 element symbols (note: these are taken from the unused painting textures, with a new one added for wood), at the base of all these stones is a new kind of Vault “The Fae Vault” exclusive to this structure and the beast's lair
The carvings look like this:
The goal of this structure would be to go to each of the challenge rooms, each of with have there own stone with a carving, right click on said carving to indicate you have completed the room, and once all 4 rooms are complete return to the centre room to click on the craving that was not represented by one of the carvings in the other rooms. Getting this right results in the appearance of 5 Fae keys from the stones. These keys can be used on the fey vaults to claim the structures loot
Failure to complete the structure will be indicated by the carvings glowing Red and numerous waves of Mobs spawning
The challenge rooms each contain a challenge pertaining to their element: the fire room is filled with fire, the water room is flooded, the air room requires parkour, the earth room is a Maze and the plant room is filled with Sweet Berries, Goosegrass, Nettles, Thistles, Puffball mushrooms and Faerie Rings (yes I know mushrooms aren't plants, shush.)
On top of that, there are several spawners for the fae in this structure, with various types appearing to attack you. Though these spanners will be deactivated upon completing a room
(Note: carved stones can be moved with silk touch)
They fae Mobs that Spawn in these will be discussed later.
These structures would create unique challenges for the player and would bring more life to these biomes, encouraging exploration.
(Part 1/5)
#ivys hypothetical updates#hypothetical Minecraft updates#hypothetical mc updates#mc ideas#mc suggestions#minecraft ideas#minecraft suggestions#minecraft#part 1/5#part 1
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Punkintyre; a twisted love story (ii)
Welcome to the next part of my Punkintyre ramblings. Last time I spoke about the players and their motives, now I'll be delving into my favourite themes of the ship.
***As always, please note that this is just my own headcanons and are for a spot of fun***
'Look me in the eye when you speak to me, please?'
Punkintyre is all about obsession; mainly Drew's obsession with Punk. Or to be more exact, Drew's obsession with getting Punk to look at him.
He notoriously said 'don't lower those eyes, Punk. Look me in the eyes when you speak to me, please' (and my lower half burst into a million pieces). There was so much to that one line. How it belittled the veteran; Drew was telling him that things had changed in the WWE since his absence, that Punk was no longer the top dog, nor was Drew the young, starry-eyed upstart. He was telling Punk that their roles were now reversed and that Drew was the one making the orders around here now so Punk better damn start listening!
But then... he said 'please'.
And all the power slipped away from his statement with that one, solitary word. Because he wasn't 'telling' Punk, he was 'asking' him. Asking him to look Drew in the eye and give him his attention, his respect. Everything that Punk had denied him their first time around in WWE. Drew is still bitter about it and now he wants that attention more than ever. When the jabs on social media and on-air didn't get the reaction he hoped for, Drew put Punk front and centre at his match at Wrestlemania as a special guest commentator. That way Punk has no option but to look at him at long last.
That should have been enough! But it wasn't, and after winning the title, Drew found himself drawn to Punk, wanting to lavish in the older man's attention up close and personal. Crawling towards him on the table, rubbing the belt in his face, getting to his feet so that Punk has to stare up at him as he insulted him. And for a while, Punk didn't bite... until he did!
Drew finally got what he wanted; Punk's attention. But it was a double-edged sword and cost him dearly. First Wrestlemania, then the no.1 contendership the following night, then Clash at the Castle, then Money in the Bank. The finger on the monkey paw had curled and Drew discovered too late that Punk's gaze is a curse. He'd opened a can of worms and couldn't just cram them all back in again.
Which leads us nicely onto...
Broken Dreams
At the Royal Rumble 2014, Punk had his last match in WWE. He didn't know it at the time - all that he knew was that he was burnt out, jaded and tired. Tired of the constant struggle, the backstage politics and above all, this sickness that had festered inside him for months. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, the medicine he was prescribed was wreaking havoc with his bowels until he'd shat himself on live television and an angry boil seethed beneath the waistband of his trunks.
As he sat in the trainer's room in Cleveland before Raw the following night, suffering from a concussion that he'd picked up during the Rumble, a medic thrust a cup in his hand and told the famously straight edge wrestler to piss in it. It was the final straw and Punk walked away. Some months later, the WWE fired him. On his wedding day.
At the Royal Rumble 2024, Punk had his first match back in WWE in ten years. He didn't need to return - it had taken a lot of pride-swallowing and bridge-mending - and he had already accomplished so much in his tenure with the company. Except... for one. His holy grail. His white whale. The prize catch that had slipped through his hands time and time again.
Main-eventing Wrestlemania!
And it was finally within his reach, all but guaranteed. His name was big enough, his draw undeniable. He ran into the Rumble with a purpose, a rejuvenated spirit and love for his profession.
Until he was caught on the wrong end of a Future Shock DDT...
At Wrestlemania 2020, Drew McIntyre won the WWE Championship. This was a culmination of his entire life's work and dedication, of pushing through the bleakest of times when all hope had gone, of working through addiction, of picking himself back up and igniting that spark again to light his way back through the shadows. At long last, he'd been rewarded for his efforts. Heaving himself up from his knees, tears in his eyes, he clutched his beloved prize and climbed the turnbuckle to show it off-
-to an empty room!
Drew's greatest moment would always be tainted by the presence of Covid-19. Where there should have been crowds cheering, noise and atmosphere was instead an empty silence. It hardly echoed the weight of this victory for him personally.
At Wrestlemania in 2024, Drew won the World Heavyweight Championship. It was everything that his victory in 2020 hadn't been. Dubbed the Biggest Wrestlemania in history, the noise from the capacity crowd was deafening, almost shattering his ear drums. He stumbled to his wife and brother in the crowd, presented them the title he had won, hugged them, kissed them.
Then, he spied CM Punk, sitting at commentary clapping with the rest of the crowd. He could have turned and left, ignored the call of the siren but he didn't...
At Clash at the Castle in 2022, Drew was the Hometown Hero. Well... close enough! It may have been Wales but it was the UK and he was the biggest name in the company from these parts so he was the one chosen to be the face of the PLE and to main-event it. And what a main event! It was Drew's chance to stare down the barrel of the Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, and hope was high for a de-throning. Drew had pushed Roman to his limits in the build-up and reduced the Head of the Table down to his knees.
But it was not to be. Despite a valiant effort from the contender, the champion retained, though, not without an unfair advantage from the Usos and their baby brother, Solo Sikoa, making his main roster debut. But Drew was given no time to wallow; there was still minutes on the clock and he was forced to pick himself up, put on a fake smile and entertain the crowd until they went off the air, unable to show the world how his heart was breaking.
At Clash at the Castle in 2024, Drew was the Hometown Hero. For real this time! They were in Glasgow, Scotland, his home country, a mere thirty miles from where he had grown up, in the city where he had studied at university, where he had trained to wrestle, where he had cut his teeth and, above all, the city that had welcome him back with open arms when he had failed. It was here that he had reinvented himself, became something bigger and better, rejuvenated his gimmick and, in turn, his career. He returned a conquering hero, at the top of the mountain and ready to give back to the city that he loved so much.
The stars were aligned so perfectly, like a beautiful constellation that could only be witnessed every thousand years. He could finally feel the darkness of the past few months lift, he had a chance for redemption, to become the hero he was destined to be as he pinned Damian Priest to win the championship that had eluded him all Summer in front of his people, his town, his country.
The referee slid into the ring and counted the one, two...
It's highly appropriate that Drew was the one to kick-start this feud by shattering Punk's Wrestlemania hopes considering that his previous entrance music was called 'Broken Dreams'. Since then, it's his own dreams that have been ripped from him time and again by a vengeful Punk who has vowed that Drew will never hold another championship as long as he's breathing.
As the feud has progressed, there has been less focus on this theme, yet it remains the main crux of it and what it boils down to; having something precious stolen away.
Speaking of which...
The Scarf and the Bracelet
There has been a lot of talk of the similarities between Punk's feud with Drew and his incredible feud in AEW with MJF. The psycho-sexual obsession, the wily veteran taking on the younger talent who's now more established, the match where they are literally attached to one another, the ambiguity between who's right and who's wrong, um...whipping... the list goes on.
But one similarity that I like yet I've never seen brought up is that both feuds involved something getting stolen. In AEW, Punk stole MJF's scarf and walked in the following week wearing it around his neck. He said he was hoping it would evoke a reaction from Max, but then he discovered that it was a cheap replica, one of thousands that cost a few bucks on Amazon. It meant nothing. It was a callous way for Punk to call Max hollow, a poser acting like he was somebody important when in actuality everything he did and possessed was empty and meaningless.
In WWE, Drew stole Punk's bracelet.
And it's acknowledged from the start that it's a cheap piece of plastic, worth only a few cents. But unlike Max's scarf, its sentimental value is priceless. It was lovingly crafted by a fan, a gift for her hero and on it, a sequence of little white cubes spell out the names 'AJ' and 'Larry'. The two people who make up the entirety of Punk's world. He's found himself at the bottom, he's cut ties with his biological family, he's walked away from a lucrative career, leaving behind friends and colleagues who have lived in each other's pockets for years, he's been beaten bloody and humiliated on live TV, he's had his name and reputation dragged through the dirt, he's suffered through injury and surgery and injury and surgery.
And through it all, every time he was knocked down, the two people he loves most have been there to help him back up. After his brutal defeat in his first UFC bout, an emotional Punk was asked what his wife said to him after the match. He put down the mic, leaned back, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to compose himself. When he picked the mic back up, his voice croaked as he said 'she said she was proud of me'.
Larry was abandoned, left alone and unloved in a pound. Considered too ugly to adopt. Perhaps Punk saw a little of himself in Larry; a rough, scraggly little mutt with a lot of fight in him and a lot of heart.
It's all these sentiments and more that are contained within the colourful beads of a simple trinket. Drew could have stolen anything from Punk but he went right for the one that mattered most besides his wedding ring. Right for Punk's heart.
His family.
And looking at the way Drew handles it, it's obvious that it means the world to him too. But we'll talk about that next time. Sorry! 😈)
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Lost - lotcf & reader
notes: hi ahahahaha I've been gone for what? 1 or 2 years? So many things happened lol. I'm gonna do my thesis next year, I think I'm about to become an orphan? My extended family is out to get my life, I think it's the same for my bio dad, overall life has been a rollercoaster. Like every time I try to get back to my hobbies something happens, but I won't let that stop me from fangirling lol
Anyways! that's not what y'all are here for, you're here for the fic!
tags: novel spoilers (late part of book 1), set in endable, transmigrator!reader, naru calls ws "eldest uncle" because that's what the wiki says (but i'm not sure because i forgot huhu), reader is a shrimp stuck between two whales
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
Constructive criticisms are more than welcome
Requests are open and welcome
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@eggb67 said: So imagine this, reader is from a complete waste land of a dimension and she crash lands into TOCF with no clue of where she is. She runs into WS and the first thing she does is attack him because he looks similar to the person who had been really close when it came to killing her.
The world you came from was one in chaos. Everyone has to fight to survive as if only barbarians lived there. It hadn’t always been like that. One thing leads to another; before you know it, the world is deserted, and only the strongest or the wittiest survive.
Survive, that was exactly what you were trying to do before you lost. Of course, the day you try to get food you encounter some bloodthirsty madman and die…
Well, at least you thought you did.
You were sure the knife was going to stab your heart. To be honest, you accepted it, living in that world was tiring. You figured that since you have nothing left, no family, friends, or material things, then it should be fine if you disappear.
That’s why you were shocked when you opened your eyes and saw that you were in a different place. The place may be different but you can see the same madman that tried to kill you.
And it would only be just to try and strike back right?
However, as you were about to swing your arms, that’s still injured, two men who look like knights blocked your movements. This made you fall over and sit on the ground.
“Explain yourself! Who are you and how did you appear here out of the blue?”
Now just what kind of roleplay is this? You were certain that you were in some dingy alley before. But now you look like you’re in a castle, or at least some luxurious lodging.
“Explain myself? I’m the most confused here. Who the hell are you people and where am I? Also, that bastard over there looks like the dude that killed me earlier.”
Now that you look at it properly the man that supposedly tried to kill you was the same but at the same time different. This man also had red hair and was wearing a white mask, but their clothes looked vastly different. Their aura was also different. This one feels more shrewd and has the vibe of a ruler.
Speaking of the mysterious man, he only looked at you as if he found a new toy to play with. That look only lasted for less than a second before it was replaced by a look of concern.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding, but first… Naru are you okay?”
Only then did you notice the white-haired kid near you. He looked shocked but seemed to be fine otherwise. Usually, you were soft when it came to kids.
But your instincts were telling you that this one isn’t a kid.
You have no way of proving it, but years- no decades of trying to survive in your forsaken world has honed your instincts. And your instincts were telling you three things:
The white-haired kid is not a kid
The redhaired man is dangerous
The kid is dangerous too but you’ll have a better chance of survival with him.
“Don’t worry Eldest Uncle no harm was done.”
“That’s good… Well usually we would send attackers like you to prison but as I said there seems to be a misunderstanding. You also don’t seem to be from here and look lost.”
Everyone around you started whispering about how merciful this White Star guy is. From the not-so-hush whispers, you gathered that these two are big shots in this place with the redhead being their ruler.
That also confirms that you’re now in a world you have no idea of.
Your world doesn’t have a ruler. Well, it had one before but that was decades ago. The sight of people being orderly and following a single person seems so foreign to you now.
“Eldest Uncle if I may, can I take this person with me back home? I wish to treat their injuries and find out how they got here.”
It was only then you remembered that you were injured. Of course, all of them were from the madman from the other world. Just remembering about that encounter made you pissed.
You kept your emotions in check and listened in on the conversation about you. They were acting as though you didn’t even exist, but it was fine. All you have to do right now is stay quiet and not offend anyone. You have to survive this room first then find out where the hell are you after.
“Are you sure Naru? They may be dangerous and bring you harm…”
“I will be fine uncle. I really want to treat them, seeing someone appear out of nowhere weak and battered reminded me of my own health. Thus why I wish to help them.”
The not-really-brat seemed to be a good actor.
You were far from weak. You may be injured, but not weak. If you want to you can still cause havoc in this place. That Naru guy seemed to know it too. His gaze only landed on you for a second but you can tell he has a good grasp of your strength.
That’s fine as it looks like he's trying to get you away from the more dangerous man so you played along.
As if touched by the kid’s words you tried to get up but only to fall back again. You added in some coughs for a good measure.
Naru and White Star went back and forth a bit more with White Star saying he was worried and Naru adamantly proclaiming they just wanted to help a weak person like him. Luckily in the end White Star resigned and allowed Naru to do whatever he wanted on the condition that if you did anything rash Naru was to tell him immediately.
Soon enough you were being escorted out of the hall you were in to go to Naru’s residence with the help of some servants. The whole time you could feel White Star’s gaze on you and it felt just like how a mad scientist would look at their new test subject victim.
Let’s just hope you don’t have to meet him anytime soon.
#le asks#trash of the count's family#lout of the count’s family#tcf#lcf#trash of the counts family#trash of the counts family x reader#lout of the counts family x reader#lotcf x reader#totcf x reader#lcf x reader#tcf x reader#cale henituse#white star#lotcf white star#totcf white star#x reader#x female reader#female reader#reader insert
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my issue with the natlan characters being white (color, not ethnicity) is that
1: it doesn't make sense from a environmental standpoint. If they're based on all these places with more sun, wouldn't the natlan genetic pool have adapted so that those in hotter places have darker skin? for example: Mexico, Africa, India, any other country on the equator? (Not including European integration)
2: why blend all these cultures of color beautifully (i was so looking forward to an aztec based region) just to put a pale person in their place? We *know* they can put poc characters in their games. We have plenty of colored npcs, Arlan in Hsr, and even the eremites.
And 3: I saw an edit of the main three people have been upset about with darker skin (the green and black guy, little Geo girl, and white haired hydro girl) AND I COULDN'T EVEN TELL THEY WERE EDITED UNTIL I READ THE CAPTION. They were gorgeous, truly. The truth is, genshin's sales in other countries would spike if they made these new characters darker. There would be that much more representation, opening the community to others who would grow the community
Tldr: There's no reason to make these characters pale other than origin country specific beauty standards. Everyone, and I mean everyone, no matter poc or not, should refrain from spending money on genshin for the foreseeable future. It will be difficult to those used to buying their primogems, especially with the new Nilou skin dropping, (looking at you, whales) but we gotta.
And come on, the new Kirara skin can totally hold us over
exactly! hoyoverse CAN make darker skin tone but they just DON’T want to. a few example images i’ve gotten from the enemies
every enemy we have came across have a darker shade of skin than the playable ones. even the fatui enemy has a darker/ombre type of shade of skin color. and from what i’ve seen the new enemies in natlan had darker skin tone than these ones. i have another point i have forgotten to mention in my latest post answering abt the natlan situation and this may seem like a huge stretch but hear me out.
we all know and have heard of the ‘big black beast’ writing racism right? how media will portray POC as the aggressor, enemy, the wrong side, the abuser, the pet etc etc. basically using a character’s skin tone to hide their racism. and please take this with a bag of salt as i may be reading too deep into it here, but isn’t it odd how the enemies always end up having a darker shade of skin? not just entirely POC but south asian ones too.
paimon and traveler have always been shown to be wary of or even downright afraid of every darker skinned character they meet in sumeru. eremites are darker skinned and have POC features (dreadlocks), the new enemies shown in natlan trailer does as well (dark skin and POC feature like dreadlock). its almost as if they’re trying to do the ‘big black beast’ racism in writing thing
#nobu.nobu.chat#though please take this with a huge grain of salt#bc i dont want to go around accusing ppl#its just a little bit of pattern that ive noticed#and considering they once made a POC character in hi3 who hated her skin color so much to the point she bleached herself#i mean#this could be just some delusional thoughts#but the pattern is still there
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To Sail Forbidden Seas ~ Chapter 1
Synopsis: After a long voyage, Yi Sang and Heathcliff seek shelter.
Ship: The Adventure of Wuthering Heights
Words: ~2330
Warnings: alcohol; a physical altercation between characters; food
“It’s not much further, now,” Yi Sang said, glancing over his shoulder at his companion, who ambled along behind him, his head hung low as he clutched at the ragged cloak concealing his shoulders.
For a moment, Yi Sang’s gaze lingered on his friend’s hand, eyes silently tracing the tattoos inked into his scarred flesh, then he shook himself, turning to point at an inn down the road.
“There it is—Thames Landing … you’ll be safe there.”
His partner slowly lifted his head, eyes gleaming beneath his hood as he quietly studied the building Yi Sang indicated—it was a quaint, two-story structure, built from shabby wooden planks. The slanted roof had been bleached by the sun, and a makeshift fence, cobbled together from bits of driftwood, encircled the building. It was simple, almost rustic, in presentation.
“This place … good. Has charm.” The man spoke slowly, his sentences short, but each word was firm. Still, his brow furrowed, and he cast a questioning glance towards Yi Sang. “Safe … you sure?”
Yi Sang nodded, smiling as he motioned for his companion to follow him down the road. “At ease, my friend … I promise you Mycroft Holmes won’t lambast you with questions—aside from those pertaining to your stay, of course.”
The pair halted in front of the inn, and the man lifted his gaze to the sign hanging above the door. Even in the semi-darkness, he could make out a series of white letters that spelled out the inn’s name, the words painted to resemble a bridge arching over a dark band of water.
“Now, Heathcliff,” Yi Sang said softly, drawing his companion’s attention back to him, “while I can guarantee the Holmes siblings won’t object to you residing here, I cannot say the same for their other patrons—many of them are unscrupulous fellows, you see … the shameless, deceitful sort who’d sell you out in a heartbeat.”
His friend nodded solemnly. “Then I stay under cloak. Until you sort things out.”
Yi Sang smiled sadly, his fingers settling on the door handle. “Yes … I do believe that’s for the best.”
Taking a deep breath, Yi Sang threw the door open, and Heathcliff blinked as warm, golden light spilled onto the street. Hushed conversations tickled Heathcliff’s ears, and he reached to pull his hood over his eyes before following Yi Sang inside, quietly studying his surroundings from beneath his cloak. Wooden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing ample light for those below, and a massive fire blazed in the hearth built into the far wall. A large, bubbling kettle was suspended above the flame, the steam rising from the cauldron carrying a mouthwatering aroma that reached Heathcliff’s nostrils from the doorway, causing his stomach to growl.
“This way.” Yi Sang motioned for Heathcliff to follow as he approached the bar, flagging down the man behind the counter. “Mycroft! Can I trouble you for a moment?”
The bartender glanced up from the glass he was drying, his face brightening when he recognized Yi Sang. “Well, well … if it isn’t the first mate of the Pequod, himself! To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“The pleasure’s all mine—though, you could raise a toast to Captain Ishmael, if you so desired.” Yi Sang smiled, settling onto a barstool as Heathcliff melted into the corner. “She led us on yet another successful hunt.”
“Ah … Sherry did mention something about her going after another Whale …” Mycroft set the glass in front of Yi Sang, then reached beneath the counter for a bottle of whiskey, proceeding to pour the sailor a drink. “Now, what exactly can I get for you?”
“Well … my companion and I were looking to room here for the evening …”
Heathcliff exhaled slowly, tuning out the conversation as he scanned the inn—men crowded around large, rickety tables scattered throughout the dining room, swapping stories and downing tankards of liquor. Oftentimes, the amber liquid missed its mark, sloshing onto the floor, instead.
The harpooneer snorted, and was turning his gaze back towards the bar when something—nay, someone—caught his eye: a woman, the hem of her periwinkle gown trailing along the soiled floorboards, circled the tables, unimpeded by the sailors stumbling around her. She cut through the intoxicated mob like a ship through the Waves, her tawny hair streaming behind her as she weaved between toppled stools and unconscious men, scooping up dirty dishes as she passed.
Something about the way she carried herself intrigued Heathcliff—despite the chaos unfolding around her, she remained calm and collected, tending to her clients’ every need without complaint.
He shrank further into the corner as she drew near, his eyes dropping to the floor until she’d swept past. As her footsteps faded, Heathcliff slowly lifted his head, staring after her.
“Oi! You, there! You’re not ogling that lass, are you?”
Heathcliff flinched, shrinking back into the corner as one of the sailors staggered to his feet, scowling at the harpooneer. “Did not mean to stare,” he mumbled, lowering his gaze.
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t,” the man growled, lurching towards Heathcliff, who drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “But you were, weren’t you? Bet you’re thinkin’ you have a shot with her, too.”
“Was not,” Heathcliff muttered, pressing his back against the wall as the man stumbled closer.
“What was that?” The sailor came to a stop a few feet away from the harpooneer, his face set in an ugly sneer. “Speak up, you bastard—no one can understand you when you’re mumbling.”
Heathcliff grit his teeth. “Said, ‘was not.’ You need your ears checked.”
“You think you’re clever, eh? You wouldn’t be talkin’ like that if you knew who I was.”
“Do not care who you are. Go away. Want to be alone.”
“Do you? Well, you should’ve thought about that before you started makin’ eyes at the lass … now you’ve gotta pay the price.”
The sailor lunged forward with surprising speed, and Heathcliff raised an arm, barely blocking his fist. Swearing, the man struck out with his free hand, clawing at the edge of Heathcliff’s cloak, and the harpooneer hissed, attempting to squirm away, but it was no use—his assailant caught hold of his robe, grinning as he tore it from Heathcliff’s shoulders.
But his smile faded as the cloak fluttered to the floor, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the tattoos inked on Heathcliff’s skin. “By the Wing’s … you’re … you’re …”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the inn as everyone stared at Heathcliff—at the markings covering every inch of his exposed flesh.
“You’re from … the Middle …” The sailor stumbled backwards, clasping his hands before starting to beg. “P-please … spare me—I didn’t mean any of it, I swear!”
Heathcliff lowered his head. “Tattoos from Middle, yes. But I … I not with them. Not anymore.”
The sailor blinked, his brow furrowing. Then, he straightened, his sneer returning. “You left the Middle? Isn’t that some kind of taboo?”
Heathcliff said nothing, and the man laughed as whispers passed through the crowd.
“Silence speaks louder than words, or so they say,” he said, grinning. “So, you ran out on the Middle, fully knowing the consequences … I wonder, just how much are they offerin’ for you?”
The sailor glanced at the men behind him, still smiling.
“Perhaps we should see about turning you in—we could use some extra cash, right boys?”
Murmurs of agreement echoed behind him, and the sailor, emboldened, grabbed Heathcliff’s wrist.
“Right, then … I’m goin’ to need your name—I’ll be givin’ it to the Middle, you know.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort.”
The man blinked as a voice rang out from across the room, and Heathcliff lifted his head, his heart skipping a beat when he saw a woman striding towards them, her eyes flashing.
“Sh-Sherry …” the sailor stammered, stumbling backward. “I-I’ve gotta do this, love—if the Middle were to find out your brother was hiding this man, they’d kill him …”
“The Middle isn’t going to find out we’re serving this gentleman,” the woman replied icily. “You aren’t going to breathe a word about him to anyone. Right?”
“B-but … this is to pro—”
“Right?”
The man flinched as she cut him off, eyes dropping to his feet. “Right.”
“That’s what I thought.” She folded her arms, nodding towards the door. “Now, leave, Victor. You’ve harassed my clients enough for one evening, and I shan’t tolerate your indecency a moment longer.”
“Sherry, I—”
“Leave. Now.”
Her words were like thunder, ringing clearly through the silent inn, and a shiver shot up Heathcliff’s spine as the sailor whimpered, slinking away. The woman watched him leave, then turned to the throng of men behind her, scowling.
“As for the rest of you … I trust you know what’ll happen if I find you’ve sold this man out?”
A chorus of soft “ayes” rippled through the crowd, and she nodded.
“Good—as you were, gentlemen.”
With that, the men exchanged glances, some smiling, others shaking their heads, before resuming their conversations. The woman knelt down, retrieving Heathcliff’s cloak from the floor and gently dusting it off before draping it over his shoulders.
“My sincerest apologies, sir … I do hope your stay hasn’t been spoiled by Victor’s poor conduct.”
Heathcliff blinked, unable to tear his gaze away from her face—she was even prettier up close than she had been from afar, with sharp, angular eyes whose color reminded him of the sea at midday.
“Your eyes … like ocean.” He said finally, his words soft. “Very pretty.”
She studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Thank you.”
Warmth bloomed in Heathcliff’s chest as the woman fussed with his cloak, straightening it so his tattoos were hidden. After a moment, she stepped back, lifting her eyes to meet his.
“Now, then … how may I serve you, this evening?”
Again, Heathcliff blinked, his gaze dropping to the floor as he mumbled a response. “Came for room. Yi Sang … said it was safe here. Said Holmes siblings … accept me. As guest.”
“Ah … then you’ll need to speak to my brother, Mycroft.” She nodded towards the bar. “He’ll see to preparing your lodgings.”
“Yi Sang said … he’d handle it.” Heathcliff murmured, shuffling back into the corner. “So, I wait.”
“Is that so?” the woman frowned, brow furrowing. “Well, if you have any trouble, do let me know—I’ll do everything in my power to ensure your stay is a pleasant one.”
She offered him a curtsy, then melted back into the crowd, leaving Heathcliff staring after her.
“So … my sister’s caught your eye, has she?”
The harpooneer started, turning his head to find the bartender studying him curiously—only then did Heathcliff notice his sharp, angular eyes. “Your eyes … shaped like hers.”
Mycroft nodded, setting down the glass he was drying. “That’s about the only feature we share, it seems … well, aside from one peculiar faculty unique to our family, that is.”
“Heathcliff …” Yi Sang spoke softly, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. “I … I failed you. I shouldn’t have allowed that man to expose you, and yet …”
“You have not failed me,” Heathcliff said. “You promised me a safe place, and this place … is safe. Even after seeing my tattoos, I am welcomed. Like you promised.”
Yi Sang was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat, rising to his feet. “Mycroft has generously arranged for us to reside in separate lodgings—and he’s providing dinner, on the house.”
“My sister will see to it you’re fed,” Mycroft said, chuckling softly. “Your friend’s in for quite the treat, Yi Sang … Sherry’s serving her finest chowder, tonight.”
“Please inform her I’ll be dining in my quarters.”
“Of course … and how about you, sir?” Mycroft addressed Heathcliff, raising an eyebrow.
“Eat in room, like Yi Sang.”
“Very well, then.” Reaching beneath the counter, Mycroft produced a pair of brass keys, setting them on the counter. “Yi Sang, you’ll be staying in room 212—it’s the third door on the right. And, Heathcliff, you’ll be in room 201—first door on the left after you climb the stairs.”
“Thank you, Mycroft,” Yi Sang murmured, his fingers curling around one of the keys. “Your hospitality is sincerely appreciated.”
“As is your business,” the bartender replied, winking. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen … and do let either Sherry or I know if you need anything.”
He bowed as they turned, making their way across the crowded dining hall. Heathcliff kept close to Yi Sang, eyeing the drunken mob warily as they approached the stairs.
“Heathcliff,” Yi Sang said softly as they climbed the creaking steps, “about what Mycroft said, before … you’d best tread with caution.”
The harpooneer blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The way you were looking at Sherry … if you truly do fancy her, you need to be careful. That man from earlier—the one who attacked you—he’s one of her admirers. And they don’t take kindly to competition from strangers, as you’ve no doubt come to realize yourself.”
“Was not staring for that reason,” Heathcliff muttered. “She stood out. Could not look away.”
Yi Sang sighed. “She does tend to have that effect … just be careful, alright?”
Heathcliff nodded as they reached the second-floor landing—ahead of them stretched a short corridor with four doors on each side, and they paused, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the gloom.
“Your room’s here,” Yi Sang said, motioning towards the door nearest to them. “If you need anything, you can always—”
“Call on you. I remember.” Heathcliff gently nudged his friend forward. “But I will not bother you. Not tonight. You need rest.”
Yi Sang stared at him for a moment, then his gaze softened as a smile spread over his face. “I shall get on that, then … and I am wishing you pleasant dreams, as well.”
Turning on his heel, Yi Sang vanished into the shadows, and Heathcliff released a slow sigh, his shoulders sagging as he unlocked the door leading to his chambers.
#alright ... here it is--the first chapter of the fic I've been working on in private for the past few months#I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it#otp: the adventure of wuthering heights ⛈️🔍#r: remind my heart to beat 💢#p: one more time‚ let me try to fly 🪶#si: to a great mind‚ nothing is little 🤎#oc: [Mycroft tag]#cuddle up with a good book#scattered pages
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