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domsaysstuff · 1 year ago
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This is a very specific brainrot BUT for while I've been thinking what would Steve's dnd playing style would be and i think d20's Zac Oyama is the closest, because Zac starts with the himbo characters and I feel like both Gorgug and Rick are pretty good for beginners because everytime Steve wouldn't get something it could be just blamed on character's intelligence and insight (also Steve Harrington is so Ricky Matsui coded and I feel like he would have so much fun playing him) but Zac also plays snarky characters the most recent one being Pib and I love the idea that the more comfortable with dnd Steve would become, the more snarky and bitchy his characters get
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pochapal · 2 years ago
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battler the reader surrogate going on the same emotional journey as the reader. if you take a metatextual reading of everything then you could argue there are Implications to this
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months ago
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Throwback
Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader
CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting
Word Count: 1.9k
(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)
You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.
But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.
You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.
You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.
Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.
When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.
You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.
Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.
With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.
That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.
You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.
He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.
"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."
You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?
The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.
Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.
This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.
"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"
"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."
"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"
Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.
"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."
You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.
The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.
If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.
"I knew this would make you feel better."
The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.
"W-wait! I don-"
But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.
You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.
"Ah!"
Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.
Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.
Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.
The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.
Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.
It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.
But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.
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sweemmy · 2 months ago
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“Remember, dear, the key to being an excellent broadcaster isn’t just having a pleasant voice, but knowing how to use it to capture and hold your audience’s attention. Speak to them as if you’re sharing an intimate secret, something only they should know. Make every word feel as though it’s meant solely for their ears.”
Alastor's voice flowed smoothly, weaving through the air like a hypnotic melody, and it took hold of you in a way that felt almost suffocating. His red eyes glimmered with a dark amusement, a twisted joy in watching your reaction. There had always been something unsettling about him, a danger lurking just beneath his charismatic exterior. But tonight, that danger felt closer, more present than ever before.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice dropped lower, no longer just instructive but now filled with an edge of menace, as if testing how much you could handle. His gaze bore into you, evaluating, judging.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press into you, constricting your breath. “Yes, Professor. I understand,” you managed to say, though your voice came out more fragile than you intended.
Alastor’s smile deepened, predatory, as he closed the distance between you with slow, measured steps. Each one made your heart beat a little faster, the tension building as his shadow loomed larger. Though he stood only inches away, it felt as though his very presence consumed the room, suffocating any sense of control you thought you had.
“Good,” he purred, his voice a whisper laced with satisfaction. “Then let’s test that understanding, shall we?” He handed you a script, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered far too long. “But this time, I want you to read it as though you’re speaking directly to me, as if every word is a whisper meant only for my ears.”
You took the script with trembling hands, the paper feeling heavier than it should, as if it carried the weight of the moment. Your eyes skimmed the words, but focusing was difficult with him so close. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat radiating off his body like an invisible force that seemed to pull you in. You could feel the breath of his words still clinging to your skin, each syllable echoing in your mind like a spell.
“Slower,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making it hard to concentrate on the script in your hands. “Take your time. Control the rhythm of your words, just as you would control an audience. Let them hang on every syllable, every pause.”
You tried to follow his instructions, your voice faltering as you read. But it wasn’t just the words that were slipping from your grasp—it was your own control. You could feel his presence everywhere, an invisible hand guiding you, pushing you further into the depths of something you couldn’t fully understand.
Alastor’s hand slid down your arm, so light it was almost imperceptible, yet it sent a spark through you. His touch was both comforting and threatening, a duality that left you frozen in place. You knew you should resist, should step back, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him, letting his energy consume you.
“Better,” he said softly, though his tone was still thick with dominance. “But you’re holding back. I want more.” His fingers trailed down your spine, and every inch he touched ignited a fire under your skin. “You’re trying to control your voice, but you need to let go. Surrender yourself to the moment, to the power of your words.”
Your breath hitched as his hand came to rest on your waist, a subtle but unmistakable claim. He was testing you, not just your voice, but your will. And the worst part was that you could feel your own resolve crumbling, your body betraying you as it leaned further into his control.
“I... I don’t think I can,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.
His laugh was low, almost sinister, as he tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your neck. “Oh, but you can, darling. You just don’t realize it yet.” His voice wrapped around you like a noose, tightening with every breath you took. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to feel, to experience the raw power of your own voice... and mine.”
Without warning, he plucked the script from your hands and tossed it aside, his actions deliberate and dismissive. “Enough of the formalities,” he said, his tone dropping to something far more intimate, more dangerous. “Now, I want you to speak from here.” His fingers brushed over your chest, just above your heart, and then moved downward, tracing a path that left your skin burning in their wake. “From your soul.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, the room growing hotter, more oppressive. His hand rested on your hip, pulling you gently but firmly toward him, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Alastor’s gaze was magnetic, a dark promise of pleasure and pain that made your knees weak.
“Control isn’t about restraint, my dear,” he whispered, his lips so close to your ear that his breath sent shivers down your spine. “It’s about knowing when to let go. To let someone else take the reins.”
Before you could react, his lips met yours, and the world seemed to stop. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was consuming, filled with a hunger that felt centuries old, as though he was devouring a part of you. And you... you gave it willingly. His hands moved with expert precision, tracing the curve of your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch.
Your mind screamed that you should stop, that this was wrong, that he was playing you like a puppet on a string. But your body, traitorous as it was, responded to his every command, melting under his touch.
“Alastor...” you gasped between kisses, but he silenced you with a look, his eyes burning with that same dangerous glint you had seen earlier.
“Shhh,” he whispered, his voice dark and velvety. “Now is not the time for words. It’s the time for surrender.”
His hands slid under your shirt, the cool air meeting your heated skin as he pushed the fabric away. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, as though he was savoring the moment. His fingers danced across your skin, making you arch against him, seeking more of his touch.
“You see?” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is what true control feels like. You think you’re helpless, but in reality, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. In my hands.”
You tried to speak, to regain some sense of control, but the words died in your throat as his lips found yours again. This kiss was different—slower, more intense, as if he was drawing out the pleasure, savoring every second of your surrender.
The world around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his touch, the sound of his voice in your ear, promising both salvation and damnation.
And in that moment, as his hands moved with precision, as his words wrapped around you like chains, you realized the truth: you were his. Entirely, utterly his. And there was no turning back.
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seventeendeer · 3 months ago
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this isn't at all meant to be condescending or finger-waggy because 100% we all have blind spots like this, but I'm really, really hoping that the people who never found Gaiman's approach to his own fandom concerning in any way will take this all as a learning moment.
he was an older, hyper-famous author engaging directly and frequently with an online audience of largely vulnerable young marginalized people. he presented himself as cultured and worldly, and made himself approachable as someone to go to for advice, encouragement and "wisdom." his manner of speech was extremely pathos-heavy and clearly intended to be comforting and encouraging in exactly the way his target demographic needed it to be to swallow every word. the way he spoke about stories and creativity was designed to make young creative hopefuls feel special and important, while sweeping real analytical techniques under the rug - in hindsight, likely so no one would think too critically about the disturbing amount of patriarchal abuse played for cheap shock value and voyerism in his own body of works.
Gaiman saw a target demographic that was desperate for an older creative role model to tell them they were worth something, and he exploited that pain to twist a narrative around himself where he was king and any critique leveled at him or his works were the enemy.
to be clear, he could have been innocent. he could totally have been just an out-of-touch old man saying nice things to people because he wanted to be kind and he thought he was a lot smarter than he really was. red flags are warning signs, not a surefire way to tell if someone is actually "secretly shitty."
but if you used to look up to him, PLEASE take this moment to revisit the ideas you absorbed from him. did you take his words to heart because they seemed to have objective merit? or did you take them to heart because it felt good to believe what he said? do you still hold these values? does knowing he was intentionally manipulating his online audience make you less certain? do you need more information from a different source before deciding one way or another?
again, I'm just really, really hoping people on here will take a moment to reevaluate the ideas and opinions he's injected into tumblr fandom culture, because his reach is immense and he has absolutely been manipulating popular perception of relevant topics to gain further influence and control the narrative around both his own and Pratchett's legacy. please, please take this moment to notice what he's been doing - and next time someone tries to pull the same shit, hopefully we'll be able to apply what we've learned from experience.
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kazekagevi · 4 months ago
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Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It
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PART ONE PART TWO
Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader
Word Count: 3.1k 
Tags: dark themes, indirect mention of r*pe, suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies. 
Summary: You, a competent researcher and writer, awoke from cryosleep a year ago, only to be imprisoned by the RDA—they intended to force you and many other women into a selective breeding program to kickstart human repopulation. However, you, the other prisoners, and allied wardens formed an escape plan; it was carried out, but you are the lone survivor. 
A/N and Disclaimer: This is my first x reader fic! This is also my first fic on Tumblr in years! I've been reading a lot of ATWOW fics and thought I would write my own. I am also challenging myself to write in present tense (I'm a past tense girly), so please forgive any grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy <3
This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work. 
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The tracking device beneath your skin feels like a ticking time bomb—although you’re certain it doesn’t have the power to detonate, should the RDA find your location before the prison sector’s power unit comes back online, it could still bring mass destruction to this region of the extrasolar moon. As if the RDA hasn't done enough of that already. 
As you walk barefoot through the unfamiliar forest of Pandora, you wonder if this is heaven. Surely, you must have died along the way—you survived the initial jailbreak, then the evasion at dawn, and managed to remain mostly unscathed from the chopper accident. On Earth, you’d feel compelled to buy a lottery ticket. The thought alone makes you chuckle, and your mask fogs in response. Your laughs, albeit quiet, turn maniacal. Maybe you hit your head hastily fleeing the first bunker, or got thwacked by metal shrapnel in the crash. 
If you live, the escape will count as a partial success. Living would make you a hero; but as darkness falls on this foreign planet, you silently wish you had become a martyr like the others instead. 
You’re completely defenseless. You have nothing more than your respirator mask that won’t stop fogging due to your panicked breaths, and the clothes on your back. You adorn an oversized jacket that you stole from the valiantly deceased helo pilot, and your prison uniform—it’s nothing more than a flimsy, green hospital gown. 
You should know more about this place. You were chosen among an elite class of writers to research alien life on Pandora. You loved traveling and writing about new cultures—studying language, customs, and history. It was your pride and joy, your life’s work. Yet, the nightmare started the day you woke from cryosleep and you were forced into a tiny cell with three other women. In your year of imprisonment, two of them had already been selected into the breeding program, while you and the other, Claudia, were awaiting that same fate. 
You almost slip on a patch of sludge and break your fall by grabbing a tree stump. 
You do know, however, that this hostile environment will kill you if you don’t find the tribe you’re searching for. Certainly, your luck will run out soon. 
So, you stop laughing, blink away the tears in your eyes, and regain your focus. You’d slap your own cheeks if you could, but your mask renders the act impossible. You have to survive, or else the girls’ and allied wardens’ deaths will be meaningless. 
As you continue on your path, the mud starts to dampen, coating the soles of your feet. You presume this is from a recent rainstorm, or perhaps you’re nearing a water source. You swallow hard—inevitably, you’re thirsty. But if breathing Pandora’s air will kill you, the water will likely do the same.
As you carefully wade through the soppy terrain, you repeat the same phrases under your breath like a prayer or mantra. Even if you suffered amnesia and lost all your memories like a slate wiped clean, you could suffice to lose it all, except a few words which you memorized in Na’vi. 
Using these phrases would determine if you lived or died, assuming you weren’t slain with an arrow on sight: after introducing yourself in the language, you must tell them you seek asylum with the Omatikaya clan at High Camp and Max knows you’re coming. Lastly, you needed to say there is a tracking device under my skin, please cut it out. 
You recite these phrases again, except this time you mess up the grammatical structure on the last part. You winge, correct yourself, and continue on your course.
The planet begins to dim as time passes. As you avoid tripping over tree roots and crushing delicate flowers, you notice Pandora’s subtle glow. The bioluminescent spots that dot the terrain look like freckles on skin. It’s the first time you’re seeing the real thing up close, instead of in a tiny photograph. You’re as enamored as you are terrified. 
Your feet hurt and your shins ache when night fully settles. You’ve been traveling by foot for hours. Imprisonment and preparation for forced motherhood meant there was little opportunity for exercise in the compound. Your body isn’t used to lifting heavy things or globetrotting long distances. 
As you use the last of your energy reserves to think—to consider stopping in a safe area for a break—a tremendous force stops you first. 
This is it, you think. You know you're going to die. 
The force is a Na’vi, whom you cannot see. From their position behind you, an arm wraps around your abdomen, lifting your smaller body off the ground like a doll. The Na’vi lodges their elbow into your stomach, knocking the wind out of you, all so they can wrap their large blue hand around your small, human neck. Despite the panic, you notice how controlled the Na’vi’s grip is—just enough to hold you still without choking you. It feels like a strange paralysis. Your oxygen mask fogs as you pant in distress. 
“Why I should not kill you?” The Na’vi asks in broken English. The timbre of the voice leads you to believe this one is male. 
Say the thing! your mind reels. You resist the urge to flail your limbs. The slightest movements make the Na’vi tighten his grip—at this very moment, you notice his other hand holds a dagger to your throat. The space between your skin and the blade is miniscule, as is your proximity to certain death. 
So you do it, you say the thing. Except, it comes out all wrong:
“My… My name is Asylum at High Camp,” you stammer in Pandora’s native language. 
The Na’vi makes a sound of confusion. You won’t know until later, but Neteyam thinks your pronunciation is mechanical, unpleasant, and downright horrible. 
Your chest heaves wildly and your heart thrums in your chest like a drum. The realization hits like a truck. “Wait… No, that’s not right,” you say in English. Your jagged breaths aren’t allowing oxygen to circulate in the mask properly—the same goes for your brain. 
The Na’vi growls against your ear. You’re running out of time. You gather the last of your composure. 
You tell him your name, properly this time, then continue with your monologue. “I-I seek asylum at High Camp, Max knows I’m coming,” you sputter like a dying engine. 
The Na’vi makes another sound of confusion, yet still seems dissatisfied. He gently presses the tip of the knife to your throat. 
“No! Please!” you beg. Your hands instinctively wrap around his glowing-freckled forearm, but you don’t tug. 
The Na’vi freezes. You can’t see it, but something is happening. 
Neteyam’s hairless brows furrow when a woodsprite lands on the edge of the blade he inherited from his maternal grandfather. The woodsprite lingers there, teetering on the edge. Then, it slots itself into the small space between your skin and his knife. You can’t help but cringe at the slight tickle of its tendrils against your collarbone. 
“Eywa,” Neteyam whispers to himself. His voice is so quiet that you cannot hear. 
The woodsprite travels over your clavicle and settles against the skin just below it. The woodsprite glows with vibrance. The light winks at Neteyam. He knows it's a sign. The tip of his knife drags gently against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. The woodsprite flutters away once his knife is over the spot where the tracker sits beneath the surface. His lips part—the area feels hard when he knows it shouldn’t be. 
Your eyes widen. You remember your lines, like an amateur actor taking the stage for the first time. 
“There’s a tracker!” you shout in English. Your shrill voice catches even Neteyam—the future Olo'eyktan—off guard. 
“A tracker?” Neteyam retorts, his voice laced with aggression and uncertainty. He doesn’t recognize that word, but your tone implies grave danger. 
You nod. “There is a tracking device under my skin,” you say in the Na’vi’s native tongue. “Please, cut it out!”
Fright flashes upon Neteyam’s face. Mentally, he’s reeling—were you sent here as bait from the sky demons? Is he falling into another one of their traps? Images of the tracker the Sky People lodged into the tulkun’s fin on the reefs of Awa'atlu flood his mind. His heart feels heavy when he thinks of Ro'a and her cub. 
Physically, however, Neteyam does as he���s told. He would never willingly take orders from Sky People, but he knows in this instance, it’s the only way to protect himself, his family, and his clan. He must abide by these orders for the greater good. 
Neteyam moves swiftly as he pins you against the nearest tree. He holds you there by your neck. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, then he zeros in on the neckline of your hospital gown. He uses his thumb to feel for the tracking device, raises his knife, and cuts. 
Pupils blown wide, you study his face in the moment of reprieve before he slashes at your skin. His eyes are bright yellow, like tiny suns or egg yolks. His lips are full, and as he grimaces, he reveals a shiny set of white teeth. His ears point backwards: he’s agitated. His tail swishes from side to side. He wears his hair in braids. Around his neck, he adorns an ornamental choker necklace. 
You howl through your teeth. Your jaw is clenched. The pain is unbearable, but at the same time, it’s the best kind you’ve ever felt. Even if this Na’vi should kill you right after, at least in your last moments, you’ll feel free. 
Blood pools around his knife as he cuts through the first layer of skin. He tries to ignore your cries as he presses his long fingertips into the open wound. He pulls when he feels a small piece of plastic; with a bit of effort, he dislodges it from your body. 
You sigh in relief when the Na’vi removes it, but the pain lingers—it worsens when you press your fingertips against the wound to stop the bleeding. Your eyelids are heavy. You feel lightheaded. 
The Na’vi removes his grip from your neck, only so he can destroy the tracker. Neteyam notes that trackers he’s encountered in the past tend to beep, light up, or some combination of both—this one has neither of those attributes. The uncomfortable knots in Neteyam’s stomach begin to untie, but he cannot give up his resolve. His work is unfinished. 
He presses the tracker against the tree bark, grunts, and he hacks away with his weapon.
Even as you’re bleeding—potentially to death—you continue to study the Na’vi’s physique and stature. This one in particular is muscular and athletic, and presumably taller than average. The way his muscles move under his blue skin is enchanting, and the way his freckles glow, you might as well be looking up at the night sky. You’re certain this will be your last chance to witness life on Pandora, or life at all—might as well bask in it. 
The tracker is chopped and diced into small pieces, like how you used to cut vegetables back on Earth. The Na’vi looks pleased with his work. Then, his hairless brows furrow again, he spits into his hand, and throws the pieces as far as he can into the Pandoran wilderness. He hisses. You think it’s some kind of power move, but you’re not quite sure, and you definitely don’t have the gall to ask. 
Neteyam stands still for a moment, bloodied hands on his hips. He has yet to face the elephant in the room—or in this circumstance, the tawtute against the tree. 
That blood is only yours. Your eyes roll into the back of your head; you see stars upon realizing just how much you’ve lost. 
---
You wake to the sounds of beeps and whirrs.
All is quiet. You’re in a small room with white walls. The lights are dimmed. Your breaths are slow and relaxed—but as the cogs start to turn, you begin to question if you’re safe or not. 
Pain shoots through your shoulder like a strike of lightning as you sit up in the cot you’ve been sleeping in. You wince loudly, and the noise echoes. 
Your mind briefly recalls the events of the last twenty-four hours, leading up to the encounter with the Na’vi. Evidently, it wasn’t a dream or figment of your highly active imagination. 
Your clavicle has been wrapped in a thick bandage. When you pull back the thin blanket that covers the rest of you, you realize the dirt and grime that covered your feet and legs has been washed away. 
You sigh in relief. You think you’re safe, until you discover that your old hospital gown has been replaced with a brand new albeit identical one—one with the Resource Development Administration’s logo on the tag. 
Your heart feels heavy. 
The escape was unsuccessful. The mission failed.
It makes sense now, as your vision swims through the confined space. This must be it—this must be where they took Seraphina, and Leah, and Clover. This must be where the girls who get picked go. Where they are prepared. Where they are taken. 
You sit there for a few moments, then begin to hyperventilate. The Na’vi male must have left you there to die, and the RDA must have tracked you down anyway. Given that they lost all of their prisoners in the jailbreak, it made sense. They would do anything to get you back. 
You shatter like glass.
Tears prick your bloodshot eyes like thorns. You pluck each wire from your arm like guitar strings, separating yourself from any machines. They continue to beep, but at a different pace, like a sounding alarm. 
You search the room for an escape. You spot a pitcher and sponge on the counter adjacent to the bed. 
In the laboratory across from the infirmary room, Max looks up from his microscope when he hears a loud crash. He jumps up from his swivel chair and dashes across the hall, opening the infirmary door. 
Max has no choice but to undertake—you have a large shard of glass in your hand, and you use all the force in your tired body to resist. He grimaces as you continue to aim for a critical slice on your opposite wrist. His words fail to soothe. 
“Norm!” the unfamiliar man calls. “We’ve got a cutter!” 
Footsteps thump down the hall, then another man enters. “Holy shit,” he says. “What the hell is going on?!”
“I don’t know!” Max shouts back. 
Norm, in his human form, hops over the pile of broken glass, and crouches to meet your bleary, downcast eyes. “Hey… Hey! Stop! You’re safe here!”
You can’t stop the tears from coming. You shake your head and continue to thrash in Max’s arms. “To hell with you RDA fucks!” you spit at him. 
Norm’s eyes fall shut when a glob of saliva hits his left cheek. He counts to three before responding. “We’re not with them!” He grabs your wrists. “Calm down! You’re at High Camp!”
You freeze. You choke on a loud sob. “What?” you ask weakly. 
“I’m Norm,” the one crouching before you says. “That guy, behind you, he’s Max. We’re scientists allied with the Na’vi. This is the stronghold. You’re in our laboratory.” 
You sniffle. The room goes silent. “But this gown?” you croak, showing him the logo.
Norm sighs. “We loot supplies from RDA… That’s all.” 
“Take a deep breath,” says Max. You do as you're told, and your muscles relax. Max docks the glass shard from your hand and eases his grip. Norm nods in approval. “One more,” Max adds. Inhale. Exhale. “You’re alright now.” 
Inevitably, you start crying again. But this time, your tears are joyous. The tension breaks like ice—it’s melting. You’re awash in relief you thought would never come. It’s euphoric. It’s blissful. You’re free. 
A year of suffering and imprisonment is released in your loud sobs. Max catches you before you can fall to your knees on the remnants of the broken pitcher. Neither of them know what to say, so they say nothing. 
Norm, the one on the floor, wipes his cheek with the collar of his shirt. Then he reaches into one of the infirmary cabinets, procuring a dust pan and small sweeper. He does his best to clean the porcelain shards quickly and quietly. “Get her an Ativan,” he mumbles to Max on his way to the disposal bin. Max swallows his nerves. 
---
You’re moved into another room in the facility after your incident in the infirmary. When you come to, you feel slightly embarrassed. You didn’t even check to see if the door of that room was unlocked, which it was. 
“I’m sorry about your pitcher,” you tell Max as he returns from the linen closet with the blankets you asked for. 
Max chuckles. He wants to say he’s more than sorry about all that’s happened to you. He was aiding and abetting the lead warden—the one who came up with the masterplan. “Don’t worry about it. That pitcher meant nothing to me,” he assures. 
You crack a crooked, uneasy smile. The Ativan is starting to take its effect. Max smiles back.
You feel grateful. The scientists here have been nothing but kind and patient. 
You can’t help but also feel grateful to the Na’vi male who presumably saved your life. You don’t know where he is, how to find him, or if you’ll see him again, but you feel indebted. You want to ask Max how you can show your gratitude, but that will have to wait. 
“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.” 
Max nods with a crestfallen smile. “If you need anything else, I’ll be around in the lab all day. Norm will be spending some time as his Avatar, so he won’t be around until later,” he says. “You were out for two entire days, I’m sure you’re hungry. Feel free to have anything in the walk-in or pantry. We don’t always have meals together as a crew, but tonight we’ll have dinner together,” Max explains. 
You’re left alone once Max is sure you’re settled and calm, and won’t break the vase on the coffee table that he does care about. 
---
A/N: Feel free to leave any and all feedback on this chapter! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciate. In part two, Norm and Max will discuss your arrival with our king, Jake Sully. <3
NEXT CHAPTER: PART TWO
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buckleybltch · 11 days ago
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Why Tommy is Different to Buck’s Previous Love Interests
and Why it Doesn’t Make Sense.
This is going to be a long and (primarily) impartial post intended for all audiences, whether you like Tommy or not. However, this is not the blog to be airing grievances on. I’m not here for that. I am going to put some opinions of mine through here, but that’s all they are, and I’m going to try stick with facts with a side of interpretation. And Please, for the love of God, read till the end before commenting.
If you want to think I’m nitpicking then go ahead, but every scene of this show gets analysed to death and back for varying reasons. This will be no different.
The Hospital Scene
For the first time, we see one of Buck’s love interests sitting with the 118 at the hospital while they wait to make sure one of their own is okay. In regard to the group chat that appeared on that scene, form your own opinions. We don’t know if Karen or Maddie is in this group chat either. Opinion: I personally don’t think it’s that unusual to have a work group chat, and I also think Bobby showed Athena his phone. I don’t believe that was meant to reinforce the idea that Tommy is an ‘outsider’- if he was an outsider, he wouldn’t have been at the hospital altogether.
Never before has a LI shown up for the 118 at the hospital with Buck. Ali and Abby turned up at the hospital for Buck because it’s him who was hurt, and Taylor was at the hospital with her camera man for the story (s5 May Day). When Eddie got shot, Taylor showed up at the hospital because she thought it was Buck who got shot. Tommy showing up is a unique situation- they were sat in their civvies as a group in the waiting room, and Tommy is there with Buck for Denny. Tommy was part of the 118 waiting room crew; we’ve never seen this before; Buck’s partner showing up for his team(family) at the hospital.
The closest we’ve had before is Abby showing up to Chimney’s return to work party, but at this point they weren’t actually together, and obviously Chimney was okay by this point, it’s not a hospital scene.
The Firefighter Life
When Ali breaks up with Buck, she says it’s because she can’t handle the firefighter life, waiting for him to get hurt. She says it’s not what she wants. This issue isn’t present with Tommy because he is also a firefighter. He knows what he signed up for with Buck, he’s perfectly and intimately familiar with the risks they take everyday and the risk of getting hurt. While it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption that this might still be an issue to some degree, no one wants to see their boyfriend getting hurt after all, they both understand the life and what it means. Tommy solves the reason Ali broke up with him.
The Bobby Approval
This one is a key one. When the scene first aired, I strongly believed (and still do) that this line was also intended for the audience. We have Bobby’s explicit approval of Tommy as a person and for Buck. He’s good people, he’s good for you.
Bobby and Buck never spoke about Natalia or about Ali. I hold the belief, like many, that Bobby never particularly liked Taylor because of how she tried to exploit Bobby in season 2. However, Bobby did help Buck decide on a Christmas gift for Taylor and vice versa. Yet, he never said on screen that he thought they were good together. Hen and Chimney do also come to Taylor for help (s5) with Jonah, but even in that scene they’re shown to not trust her with what they’re telling her.
Abby is more complex as she was a main character in season 1 and her relationship with Buck was a full-season arc. Bobby helped Buck tie his tie and gave him genuinely good advice before their date. Bobby even talks to Buck about having a serious relationship and how to handle it, about how to treat her with respect. Other characters definitely aired their reservations about Abby in season 2 (Is it the age difference? More like the time difference). I believe Bobby gave his implicit, but not explicitly said, approval of Abby through the way he treated and spoke to Buck about their relationship. Despite this, I do think it’s poignant that for the seven years after Buck and Abby broke up, we never saw Bobby approve or like another one of his relationships until Tommy.
The Future Talk
In 8x06, Josh straight up asks Buck if he can see a future with Tommy. This of course follows up Josh already asking “do you care about him, do you think about him when’s not around”. The discussion between Josh and Buck is unique, because Buck has never spoken to a friend about this before. His relationships with Ali and Natalia weren’t developed or long enough to warrant the discussion, he never talked about the future with Abby, and he said “no” at the prospect of proposing to Taylor. For the first time, Buck is asked on-screen if he sees a future with his romantic partner, and Buck says yes. This is explicitly said for the first time. Yes, he made a confused face when Josh asked if he loved him, because clearly Buck hasn’t given it that much thought until he’s confronted with it. Either way, Buck, for the first time, says he wants a future with his romantic partner.
This further prompts Buck to ask Tommy to move in with him, which, different to his motivation for asking Taylor to move in with him, is fuelled by wanting a future. Buck even brings up marriage in his discussion with Tommy, which he’s also never discussed with a romantic partner on screen before. The content of both discussions is something we haven’t seen Buck talk about or admit before.
Eddie Friendship
All of Buck’s love interests, bar Abby, have screen time with Eddie. However, Ali and Natalia only share screen time with Eddie when they first meet because they meet on a call. As Buck’s girlfriends, they don’t share screen time with Eddie.
Taylor once has dinner with Buck, Eddie, and Christopher, and she compliments Eddie’s cooking. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the only main time they’re seen together. It’s civil, it’s fine. However, they aren’t friends.
Tommy is a unique situation again; because he’s a guy, it might be easier for Eddie to form a friendship with him. They’re very fast friends, they do Muay Thai together, Tommy works on Eddie’s car, they play basketball together, Tommy went to Eddie’s house 3 times in two weeks and met Christopher. Christopher likes Tommy, he thinks he’s cool, and Eddie invited Tommy to Chris’ virtual birthday party. He’s the first love interest to not only get along with Eddie, but become friends with him outside of Buck (emphasised by 7x04 where Tommy tells Buck that his friendship with Eddie has nothing to do with Buck). The show makes their friendship very clear.
I’ll fully admit that Eddie’s friendship with Tommy was needed for the plot in 7x04, but beyond that, why was it relevant? It already made Buck realise he wanted to be with Tommy. They might’ve needed it for a plot reason but they’re friends afterwards too. Maddie calls Tommy “Eddie’s friend” in 7x05 and they’re laughing together in the hospital and getting alone fine in 8x05. Why?
Fitting Into Buck’s Life
Of course, this all culminates by saying Tommy fits into Buck’s life extremely well.
Tommy doesn’t have to go through the awkward phase of meeting all of Buck’s friends, because the only one he hasn’t met is Eddie. Tommy was previously friends with Bobby, Hen, and Chimney, they already know him. He’s already met Athena. Sure, they might have some catching up to do, but they already have a good history. They’re familiar. Again, Tommy already gets along with Buck’s friends outside of Buck.
Why was Tommy at the hospital for Hen’s son if he wasn’t integrated? Why feel comfortable going to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding? Even Buck makes the point of saying that Tommy is already going to know everybody there; he’s not just his date, he already knows them.
Tommy is friends with Buck’s friends already, Tommy understands the demands of being a firefighter and what it entails with the risks and the commitment. Tommy understands Buck’s friendship with Eddie and Christopher, and his dynamic with Bobby.
Intention (Conclusion)
This is all to say- this is intentional. If the point of the relationship was always to breakup, why have Tommy included in these scenes? Tommy didn’t need to be there at the hospital for Denny, but they wrote it in for him to join the 118 waiting. Bobby didn’t need to give his approval of Tommy on screen. It didn’t further his relationship with Buck nor the plot. It was written this way for a reason, and I think anyone can admit the actual breakup in the scene was abrupt, and it’s all of the above context that makes it even more abrupt.
I know it makes his relationship with Buck more meaningful, sweeter, more heartbreaking for Buck, but we never saw these moments with his ex girlfriends, particularly Taylor, and their relationship was solid until it wasn’t. If this unique treatment of Tommy was meant to put Buck through heartbreak then I offer a second question: what is coming up for Buck that requires him to go through heartbreak?
Why go through the effort of writing Tommy to fit in so well with Buck’s life if he’s only there to further a plot? None of Buck’s other LIs were treated like that, and they achieved the plot they needed to. So why was this different? Buck’s relationship with Taylor was a lot longer, and they lived together, but we never saw these types of scenes with her. Why? Why was this different? What was the point of making the relationship meaningful and different?
Again, this post is not here for people to argue. It should be clear to everyone, regardless of why you think so, that Tommy was treated different by the show than Buck’s other love interests. There must have been a reason, even if that wasn’t clear. Is something big coming up for Buck that he needed to be heartbroken for? Is it poor writing? Is Tommy coming back? There must be some reason that Tommy was treated differently by the writers other than “just because”.
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li-speaks · 21 days ago
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The other day, Nicolaï Chauvet aka Méko, original creator of Bunny Maloney/Pinpin le Lapin emailed me! Our email exchange unearthed a lot of interesting behind-the-scenes information about the show and the original flash pilot. I'll post the whole exchange and the photos he sent under the cut, but here's a quick summary.
He's been away from the internet for a while due to a back injury and is currently making a living designing collector's edition DVD box sets.
Bunny Maloney in its final form was intended to be a show for teens and up; he thought that was made clear, but Moonscoop and Kabillion clearly had other plans. He had no idea that the show was ever distributed for younger kids overseas. He received no royalties for the overseas distribution, either.
Pinpin le Lapin was not originally intended as a TV pilot, but after winning an award for it, he decided to alter the tone and presentation into something more workable as a TV program, the initial conception of which is shown in the images below.
He would like to continue the show, but since Moonscoop was dissolved, he's not sure who currently owns the IP and what they plan to do with it, if anything.
"Pinpin le Lapin" became "Bunny Maloney" due to the meddling of, quote, an "army of 40 year old Parisian mothers" who represented Moonscoop's executive board at the time. The name "Bunny Maloney" was chosen because they believed it would be more marketable to an American/English speaking audience. This "Mother's Mafia" is the entire reason that Bunny Maloney was watered down for a younger audience in the first place (although it certainly kept some of its edge).
And then he sent a bunch of pictures from the show's original pitch bible, which I believe has never been made public before!
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First email + new Charlotte illustration
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Follow up email:
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+ unexpected twist that Charlotte was meant to be a sheep all along!
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david-talks-sw · 3 months ago
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"Guess the intended narrative!" (Yoda & Anakin edition)
Okay, so real quick! Let's play a game 😃!
Here are some George Lucas quotes, for context!
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Read them? Great 💪
POP QUIZ:
In this scene:
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HOW DOES THE NARRATIVE FRAME YODA'S ADVICE?
Answer #1: "Yoda's advice is on point."
The narrative sides with Yoda, who - with what little context he has - gives Anakin objectively wise advice which Anakin just isn't in the right headspace to heed (and doing so, Yoda thus delivers George's message that the cycle of life and death is inevitable and you must cherish what you have and learn to let go, because nothing lasts forever and change is inevitable).
Answer #2: "Yoda’s advice is cold and useless."
"Yoda’s reply is useless for a terrified husband and father-to-be. [...] Anakin hears this cold advice in misery." - Jason Fry, Star Wars Insider #130, 2012 "A Jedi with that much empathy [Anakin] is also a threat to Yoda’s school of thought, even if they don’t completely turn to the dark side. Because empathy makes you worry about everything. And after seeing things the same way for centuries, Yoda doesn't want to be questioned like that! He is very good at the philosophical theory of compassion, but he is bad at its practical application on human beings. Like many people in the real world who talk a lot about decency or morality, without ever applying anything." - Karen Traviss, Lucasfilm Magazine #74, 2008
I know which answer I'd put my money on: the less convoluted one.
Y'know, like the one you'd find in a kids' movie.
Note: a scene can have multiple interpretations, yes.
But there is a big difference between headcanon and narrative intent. You, as an audience member, might see Yoda as cold... that doesn't mean the story itself agrees with you, and that we're meant to see him as cold.
And for Answer #2 to be correct, we would have to assume that the same guy who stated the above-listed four quotes would decide to frame the mouthpiece character presenting those very philosophies as cold and callous. In a movie for kids. Make it make sense.
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sweetiebarnes · 10 months ago
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Twisted Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader
Word Count: 600+
Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.
Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous
A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)
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From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding. 
Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.
Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?
Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened. 
The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.” 
The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.
Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad. 
Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”
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softsan · 6 months ago
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˚ 🔪⊹ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈: 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)
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✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.
✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 |
✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬
✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Hongjoong, Former Doctor!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Opposite sides, Old Rivalries, Betrayal, Eventual Smut.
✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You were the eldest daughter of the infamous Mafia kingpin ' The Crocodile'. You had managed to crave a successful, ordinary life for yourself as a physician, however, your world is turned upside down when your father's men decide they'd prefer you to rule in your brother's stead. You were now in hiding trying to avoid the hit your brother had placed on your head. Whilst in hiding you accidently come across a wounded man, and nurse him back to health. Unbeknownst to you, you had just aided your father's number one enemy, the great dragon Hongjoong.
✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Drowning, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.
✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.
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You took a deep breath, your lungs expanding to their full capacity. You came forth, your heels clicking against the marble tiles. Their eyes watched you like hawks, observing your every move.
They’d eat you alive if they sensed the most minuscule amount of fear... You didn’t care to admit it, but, in more ways than one, you were your father’s daughter. And like your father, The Crocodile, you wouldn’t buckle nor bend.
You stepped in front of the podium, your eyes hardening with resolve, “Lieutenants, soldiers, engineers, and drug lords, I welcome you to our humble abode.”
There was a slow clap that echoed from the audience. Your eyes momentarily flickered to your younger sister Heejin, sitting behind her was Hyuntae, your antagonistic brother.
You were the eldest out of the three, which brought hostility between you and your brother. Your father had always intended for Hyuntae to be his successor—believing a male figurehead to be the idealist of options. And you were perfectly content with this too, as you had no desire for the perilous life of a mobster.
However, some of your father’s lieutenants thought otherwise. Hyuntae was terribly impulsive, explosive, and sadistically vengeful making him a terrible candidate to lead others. You were the Crocodile’s firstborn, and they believed you ought the be the rightful heir to their organization instead of Hyuntae.
You addressed the room of heads, your speech, and your confidence faultless. Hyuntae further writhed in his seat, growing all the more infuriated as you won over more of the crowd.
“As per our system, the annual growth will continue—”
A loud gunshot erupted, the sound deafening your ear. You stood, stunned, not comprehending what was happening around you.
‘Y/N!’ Your sister Heejin desperately yelled aloud.
Blood seeped your blouse. You stared down at your chest, your fingers brushing against the crimson stain, which was growing bigger by the minute.
Your legs gave out from underneath you, your vision turned ablur.
I’ve been shot? It still didn’t register.
The last thing you recalled was the agonizing screams from your sister before darkness consumed your conscious mind.
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Present.
The sea breeze held a terrible bite. It cast a cold front that left those in its wake with frostbitten fingers and toes. Hongjoong tried to keep his composure, his teeth violently chattering as his limbs spasmed in the wintery depth of the bay.
The night had an eerie hold on Hongjoong—a foreboding feeling that tonight's affairs would end up in shambles. In foresight, he should have trusted his gut and followed his intuition, but alas, he'd been foolish to underestimate The Crow's subordinates.
Gunshots rang through the air, its blinding flashes flaring into the pitch of darkness. Hongjoong dived deeper into the chilling abyss, avoiding the numerous bullets that penetrated the water's surface.
He knew he wouldn't last long in the sub-zero temperatures, the risk of hypothermia heightening with prolonged exposure. He kicked his protesting legs with all his might, forcing his arms to swim ahead.
To Hongjoong's favor, The Crow's sea cruiser hadn't traveled far from the marina—where the other gentry docked their sea vessels. After a tireless swim, he finally made it to the boat's staircase. He grumbled and cursed as he dragged his wounded torso across the cold aluminum.
What am I to do now? His forearms gave out, exhaustion getting the better of him. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, grasping his arms around himself as he shook uncontrollably.
Don't tell me this is where I die. He thought bitterly in disbelief.
Hongjoong was in a foreign enclave. He had no standing nor command in these parts. Up North, he was regarded as a king, the infamous and the only 'The Dragon'.
Even in the unlikely case, someone had stumbled upon his injured self and pitied him enough to take him to the hospital. Hongjoong would be nothing less than a sitting duck. His enemies in the masses would come out of every nook and cranny seeking to finish him off for good.
There has to be another way out of this... He dwelled, his eyelids beginning to droop. This isn't how I'm supposed to die. 
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You groaned, stretching your neck side to side. You had, had another strenuous shift at the beachside resort, which was located not far from the marina.
You had been posted in the restaurant as a waitress, flipping tables and serving large drunken parties of rich socialites who had returned to their yearly absorbent lifestyles by the bay.
You hated summer for this particular reason. The once sleepy township was now overrun by intoxicated, rich folks. They had no filter and had an endless list of demands. They threw around their wealth, expecting everyone to bend to their behest, all the while looking down upon the town's local residents.
You took a restless walk down the beach, your shoes in your hands. You stared at the sea's undisturbed pandemonium, waves dark as the sky above violently crashing into the rocks on the shore.
Your feet sunk into the damp sand as you kept a safe distance. You'd only stroll to the pier and back. After a long demanding shift, it was part of your routine to walk beside the water and wind down.
As you stepped closer to the wooden length that extended out to the ocean. You caught sight of a dark figure. 
It couldn't be. You squinted your eyes, trying to get a better look. Is that a body?
You kicked your feet, taking off in the direction of the lifeless mass. Your heart pounded the closer you got, adrenaline running through your veins.
A handsome man laid on his back, his eyes painfully scrunched shut, while his breathing labored. You quickly checked the skin of his forehead with the back of your hand. Not only was he pale and colorless, but he was cold to the touch.
You checked his pulse, placing two fingers against his neck, below his jaw, and where his carotid artery ought to be. His heart rate was slow and lethargic, a factor that contributed to your diagnosis of hypothermia.
Furthermore, as you examined the man, you noted the blood soaked into his tee shirt. You lifted the bottom, revealing a nasty gunshot wound that had penetrated the side of his abdomen. Fortunately, the wound didn't seem too serious on first inspection, hypothermia being your bigger concern.
"Can you sit up for me?" You gently asked.
Hongjoong stirred at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You helped him upward, quickly stripping off your jacket and putting it onto him. You had every intention to take off his wet clothes, but first, you had to get him off the pier and somewhere you could treat him more effectively.
As you zipped up the jacket, you noticed the faint outline of a dragon tattoo on the man's chest. It peaked from the white material, which had gone almost transparent when wet.
He's one of The Dragon's men. Your mouth quivered, shocked at the revelation.
The country you resided in was split into five notable territories, each belonging to one of the notorious mafia families.
There was The Bull, The Crow, The Jaguar, The Crocodile, and lastly, The Dragon.
You were painfully aware this bay and township belonged to The Crow. Hence the appearance of one of The Dragon's men was so astounding. He shouldn't have been here. In fact, his very presence placed him and you who had aided him in terrible danger.
I can't just leave someone to die. You grappled. That goes against the medical oath I swore.
You pulled up the hood of your jacket in an attempt to obscure the man's face. You then roped one of his arms around your shoulders and dragged him back to the beach and eventually to your car, which had been parked in the restaurant's parking lot. 
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The drive to your shabby apartment felt like an entity. Finally, you reached your destination, the man in your back seat slipping in and out of consciousness.
As preferable as it would have been to take him to the hospital, you knew how dangerous it would have been for him. As soon as anyone caught a glimpse at that dragon tattoo of his, he'd for sure be forsaken. He'd be more likely to leave the hospital in a body bag than to receive any medical treatment. This left you with little option but to take him in yourself.
You set him down on your bed, and immediately with a pair of scissors, you cut off his damp clothing. You dug out an abundance of towels and blankets from your cupboard, warming them with a hairdryer before applying them on and around his head, neck, and chest.
Next, you headed to the kitchen to boil some water on the stove. You filled one mug and used the rest of the boiling liquid to fill some spare water bottles you had lying around. You brought this all back to your room, wrapping the bottles in hand towels and positioning them against the man's body.
"Can you drink a little for me?" You encouraged, brushing away a strain of wet hair that stuck down on his cheek.
Hongjoong murmured something incoherent, slowly moving his shoulders as a sign he'd try to sit up.
"Here," You assisted him, placing your palm against the back of his head and tilting it up, "This will warm you up," You assured.
Once the man was settled and his temperature started to normalize, you shifted your focus onto his open wound. The bullet had shot clean through. Luckily, for its small caliber, it didn't inflict as much damage as a larger caliber would.
You gingerly washed the wound, and stitched and bandaged the entity of his abdomen. When you were done, you went to your bathroom to scrub your hands clean. You then searched through your stash; you didn't have too many drugs on hand, but what you did have would suffice. You continued to shuffle through your medicine cabinet, pulling out a packet of antibiotics and another packet of painkillers.
A year ago, you used to prescribe and treat patients on a daily basis...Your expression deflated as you recollected the past.
You had nearly finished your residency and were about to obtain a full-time position at the hospital until Hyuntae, your callous so-called brother, threw your world into chaos.
The life you lived, the one you had tirelessly built for yourself, was now destroyed. You'd never be able to practice medicine again, let alone be able to step foot into a hospital.
Hyuntae had left a wake of bodies behind in his attempt to rid you of your father's territory. You had been fortunate to make it out of the city with your life, even if it meant leaving everything and everyone you knew behind.
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The terrible coldness had since dissipated from Hongjoong's body, leaving but a dull ache on the left side of his abdomen. In his drugged haze, his mind drifted, reminiscing on an exchange between him and trustworthy consigliere Seonghwa.
"Why have Wooyoung wed her?" Seonghwa expressed his disbelief.
"Would you have preferred I to have married her instead?" Hongjoong challenged.
Seonghwa grimaced, unquestionably uncomfortable with the subject at hand.
Hongjoong disinterestedly sat upon his ottoman, pouring himself a stiff drink and hurling it back.
"I would have preferred for none of us to find ourselves in a situation where we have to forge alliances through marriage," Seonghwa's distasted evident from his tone of voice, "But since we're stuck under such circumstances—"
Hongjoong roughly placed down his glass, the sound interrupting Seonghwa.
Seonghwa threw Hongjoon an annoyed look, "You and I both know tradition calls for the head of the organization, which in this case is you," Seonghwa exasperatedly pointed his finger at Hongjoong direction "Is to personally elope when the bride happens to be a fellow Kingpin's heir."
Hongjoong knew of the customs, and yet, stubbornly, he had no intentions of marrying himself off. He'd not accept just anyone to stand beside him, to rule as his dragon queen.
"By having one of your caporegimes, no matter how highly-revered they may be, marry in your stead. You are purposefully offending The Crocodile." Seonghwa made his last attempts to talk sense into his boss.
"My order still stands," Hongjoong dismissed, filling the glass again and placing it against his lips. He took a large gulp, the fire of the alcohol burning down his throat, "Wooyoung will be the one to marry Heejin, The Crocodile's daughter."
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Hongjoong wasn't sure how many days had passed since the incident at the marina. But the one thing he was certain about was that he owed you his life.
His lethargic eyelids slowly cracked open, the light from the morning sun momentarily stunning him. He groggily inched his back off the bed to lean against the headboard.
The pain from his side protested, but Honjoong chose to ignore it, setting his sights on you. From your bedroom with the door ajar, he had the perfect view of the kitchen.
He watched as you softly sang to yourself, taking out two slices of toast from the toaster oven and quickly tossing them onto your plate to avoid burning your fingertips.
The sweet melody of your voice and the cute little shimmy you did as you cut off the crusts brought an unexpected smile to Hongjoong’s face.
It was unlike him to be so in awe of another. He wanted nothing more than to get to know you, your likes, dislikes, your darkest of dreams, and your wildest of ambitions.
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NETWORKS: -​
MONI’S NOTE: This is another repost! There are fewer changes in this one but, I still hope you enjoy it! Please leave a like/reblog or comment letting me know your thoughts.
TAGLIST: If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!
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© softsan - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
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apocalyp-tech-a · 7 months ago
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Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general, that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so.
45 70 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...
General reasons:
*Tech is never seen actually dying.
*Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate.
*The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself.
*CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy
*Height change on starwars.com
*The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees
*the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest
*the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf
*The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion AND CX-2 is shown looking up and to the side the way the original CF99 members are positioned and facing in their poster as if CX-2 is also a CF99 member
*other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing as well as casual viewers
*the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes
*misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived"
*Tech being smart enough to find a solution
*If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well
*no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath
*the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "Plan 99" in it
*Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee
*All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee
*The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee *CX-2 could have killed all of them at different moments, but chose not to (shooting pilot instead of Hunter for example)
Physical and character similarities:
*the shrimp posture
*the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1
*the similar hand to hand combat style
*the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99
*the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers
*the animated head and body when speaking
*the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle
*the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often
*the pouches(!!!)
*the limberness and agility
*the confident capability
*the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher!
*the deviant nature – ignoring orders
*the technology know how
*the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn
*the extraness of tool/weapon twirl
*armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria
*CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria
*Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria
*We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee
*Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee
The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to convince anyone...):
'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE."
"The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive."
"Who are you?" - "Who are you?"
"Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah."
"DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."
Cinematic framing similarities:
*the limping
*the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo
*hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car
*the boulder moving
*helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that
Conjectural situations of suspicion:
*the beef with Crosshair
*the constant surviving
*the pausing when choking Crosshair
*the pausing to look at Phee
*The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee
*“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee
*Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee
*CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee
*Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee
*The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee
*Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee
Foreshadowing lines:
*More machine than man, percentage wise at least.
*Better late than dead.
*See you around, Brown Eyes.
*Tech's not gone.
*The operative's gone rogue.
*Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him.
*Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee
Abandoned storyline reasons:
*The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡
*CX-2's death being anticlimactic
*The finale seeming rushed and incomplete
*Actors saying there were script changes
*CX-2's accent in the finale was not only not like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change
@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda !
@heyclickadee gave a great analysis here and also great evidence, more in comments!
@vivaislenska has a list as well with some of these points!
@eriexplosion has a great analysis here!
Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him:
*Too many characters coming back from the dead.
*The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent.
*Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on."
As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, I don't know. At least they could have made CX-2 talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was kind of cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I am not personally attacking the writers, I still love Season 1 and 2 and most of Season 3, but I wish I knew what happened behind the scenes with this and I know I'm not the only one. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜
And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include it and tag you. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it.
(In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)
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dee-the-red-witch · 4 months ago
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…a lot of folks just see themselves in the mirror. Before I came out and started my transition, I mostly saw static- I'd gotten really good at making my brain just tune out what I was feeling about what I was seeing. But once I stopped hiding from myself? The litany my brain went through every time I saw my own face was way too loud and clear.
Chin too wide. Forehead too big. Brow ridge is massive, you have to keep your eyebrows constantly raised just help hide it. Where's your upper lip? It doesn't matter if that's been your hairline from birth, that fivehead is terrible.
And more. It was even worse before I'd started laser for my facial hair and found a stylist that does amazing work reshaping my eyebrows. And none of it is vanity. It's just my brain doing it's own best to hurt itself with all the reminders of a puberty that went in the wrong direction. Of the fact that I wasn't a girl.
And I want to point out something- all these features I've listed? They're all present in cis women. Gorgeous cis women. There's nothing inherently male about any of these. Hells, on a good day, I pass as a woman in public without much issue, which is something I never thought would happen.
But this isn't about passing. It also isn't about ultimately going stealth and hiding the fact that I'm trans. I fully intend to stay loud about that for the rest of my life. It's about being able to look in the mirror and not want to scream about everything that doesn't match what's in my head at all. It's about making that list shut up. I can see past it sometimes. Just sometimes. But that's why the second of these two surgeries I'm having needs to happen. So I can see it more often. So I can be myself, without the horror movie litany in my head.
And the fix for it? In my case it's the following, since I didn't want to deal with implants or fillers. Bone reduction in the chin and brow- make the former narrower and reduce the brow ridge entirely. Adjust the upper lip with a slight pull upwards, done just under the nose. Since my skin's going to be loose from the removed bone, use it to pull things a bit further by bringing my hairline forward and down a touch. That';s it. slight adjustments that'll leave my face looking like I got hit by a truck for the first six months of recovery, but afterwards, a face more like what I expect to see in the mirror.
And yes, this post is happening because GFM once again reminds me to give detail and insight about the medical needs I need covered to my audience. And for those of you unfamiliar, maybe it at least gives some perspective. I don't think they quite knew what they were asking for with these particular cases, and I'm hoping I didn't just horrify the lot of you with this. But when it comes to asking 'why I need to do this'? This is part of it. Making some of my life that much less of a struggle.
Anyways, thanks for taking the time on reading through this one if you've gotten this far. If you can, please, again, share this fundraiser around- I've got a long way to go still, but I'm hoping I'll be able to make it.
137 days to go.
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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago
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In the Labyrinth (M) ~Changbin
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Pairing: Minotaur!Changbin x AFAB.Reader Themes: Mythical AU | Angst | Smut | Fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: The Labyrinth was an enigma for most people. Its existence was known, but what exactly happened within it was a complete mystery. When you entered the Labyrinth, you weren’t really sure what you’d have to come face to face with… Not even in a million years would you have guessed just exactly what you’d find in here. Warnings: descriptors of the reader such as: having long hair · mentions of murder · mentions of assault · depictions of anxiety · violence (in many different forms) · Changbin is 300cm tall (feels like that warrants a warning) · graphic depictions of outercourse (smut warnings under the cut). - feel free to let me know if i missed any.
Author’s Note: shout out to the anon that sent this ask back in august and ingrained the mental image of minotaur!changbin in my brain. more notes at the end.
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Smut Warnings: size kink · literal monster cock (he’s a giant… and a half-bull, half-man one at that…) · nipple play · mutual masturbation · non-penetrative sex.
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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The sound of your footsteps bounced off of the walls. The corridors were more than spacious, well over twenty metres wide, with the ceiling probably twice as high, but even if it wasn’t crowded in here, it still made you a bit claustrophobic.
You supposed that the few holes in the ceiling did help ease that feeling a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.
Even if you weren’t particularly thrilled about being down here, you still walked, because there was simply nothing else to do.
You could’ve sat down and awaited your death exactly where you had landed when they threw you in here, but you were never one to remain still for too long. 
So, after having a good crying session, and after hours had passed since you’d been given your death sentence, you had finally stood up and started to walk.
You knew what this place was, although you’d never really seen it. You hadn’t even known it was here in this exact area. 
The Labyrinth.
It was said that the place was humongous, practically never-ending, built by a king in ancient times as an offering to the Gods. Presumably, it’d ended up buried in the earth as time passed, and it stretched over kilometres and kilometres of land, but no one had really seen it and lived to tell the tale. At least, no one you knew of.
Law enforcement clearly knew the place, but you weren’t really sure if you could call them people. After all, they had never taken you seriously when you’d sought out their help. In a way, you felt like it was their fault you’d ended up here in the first place…
Although you’d heard of this place, you never really imagined it’d look like this inside. The brick walls were looking a bit worn down, but still structurally sound. They were lined with torches lit with eternal fire, just like the tales said. The floor would alternate between dirt, gravel, actual flooring, and mud. 
As you walked, you saw some ponds, some that even had fish inside. You figured that could be a potential way out, but you weren’t sure how deep you’d have to swim or if that’d be viable at all, so you scrapped the thought altogether. 
Sometimes, you’d see trees. Especially in those areas where there were holes on the ceiling. 
Some of those holes were partially blocked by metal rods, like law enforcement realised they were there and did the minimum required to keep a person or an animal from falling inside. Others were fully open, they varied in sizes, but they were honestly too high up for a person to reach them.
The trees, the mismatched flooring, and the occasional patch of grass weren’t that odd, though. They fit in well, and their presence made sense. What did feel out of place were the drawings on the walls. 
They weren’t on every wall, but there were so many of them it was hard not to notice they were there. Some looked like they’d been there for a long time, the colours were a bit washed out and some of the pigment had probably been absorbed by the brick overtime. Others looked like they could’ve been made a few weeks ago.
Birds, trees, deer, the sun, the moon… They were mostly nature themed, and, in any other context, you might’ve been inspired by the artistry. Even if they intrigued you, it was hard to appreciate them when you felt so hopeless, when you felt so… empty.
As soon as you had stopped crying earlier, you had accepted your fate–how long had it been since then? How long have you been walking for? Hours? How many? It was hard to tell down here… 
You realised just how much time had passed once you noticed another hole in the ceiling. You might’ve missed a few before, since it was clearly now well into the night and there was no light to highlight their presence. 
The faint stars you could see out of that hole made a knot form in your throat and tears well in your eyes. 
This was unfair.
You shouldn’t be the one in here. 
If anything, it should’ve been him.
If anyone had paid attention to you, it would’ve been him.
But instead, here you were.
You found a patch of grass under that hole you saw, so you just laid down and curled in on yourself and called it a night.
As the tears started to fall again, you reminded yourself that you had accepted your fate.
There was no going back now.
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It was hard to tell how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth for. 
The first couple of days, you kept count diligently, but at some point you realised it was absolutely pointless. Why would you even want to know that information, if you weren’t going to be able to leave?
You were on your own here. 
You’d seen items that clearly belonged to someone at some point scattered around the many corridors of the Labyrinth, but you hadn’t seen a single soul. Only the fish you’d caught from the occasional pond you found that helped keep your stomach full, or the odd magpie that would come from one of the ceiling’s holes and jump around for a bit before taking off and leaving you alone once again.
You were on your own here… That was, as long as the stories weren’t true.
At first, you thought that the death sentence meant you’d be locked here to starve to death, but that logic started to crumble when you saw just how many sources of sustenance were available. Fresh water, fruit, fish, birds–if one was skilled enough to be able to hunt one of those, or at least have the will to…
You wondered if law enforcement knew this place was like this… Whether they knew or not, you figured it probably didn’t matter. The longer you spent here, the more it made sense to you that the stories were true.
It was said that a beast lived inside the Labyrinth. 
A beast that would make the strongest, bravest man cower in fear.
Some people said it had multiple sets of arms, or that it was as big as the royal library building, bigger than any temple anyone had seen. Others said it was such a deformed being that just the sight of it would kill you, and if that didn’t, it would make sure to do so by eating its victims piece by piece.
You knew these were nothing but stories to garner attention, for people to cause unnecessary chaos just because they could. If these people had actually seen this alleged beast, you supposed they wouldn’t even be alive to share their experience with the world.
You had never believed such a thing existed, but as nights and days went by, there was a small–and very scared–part of you that believed it might be true. Maybe this beast was very real, and was roaming the corridors of the Labyrinth.
Even if you’d been lucky to have found a few ponds that were large enough for you to bathe in, you still had pretty much only what you’d been wearing since you were thrown in here. You had used those ponds to wash your peplos a few times, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t even in good shape to begin with, and rinsing it in water seemed to hardly help its condition.
Your feet ached, your sandals were certainly not meant to be used to walk these distances, and the feeling of your dirty garments, combined with the lack of human contact, were steadily driving you crazy with every day that passed. Maybe this was the punishment. To be driven to insanity by what would usually be a minor inconvenience, by the amount of nothing that was happening around you.
The fact that you kept seeing his face in your dreams didn’t help it one bit.
Sometimes, you’d see it even when you were awake. You just needed to close your eyes, and you immediately got flashes of red and the feeling of pure hatred and anger… 
You always felt like washing your hands after, like jumping into any pond or puddle you could find. And whenever you could, you did.
Unfortunately, no amount of hand-washing and bathing would make the feeling go away.
You figured you’d have to learn to live with it.
As you furiously scrubbed your palms for the millionth time that day, you started to hear something.
Your movements stopped, but your hands remained submerged in the pond. It was usually quiet inside the Labyrinth, save for the few birds that’d sometimes fly and sing above you, or the occasional splashing fish inside the numerous bodies of water. 
But, right now, you could definitely hear something… Not only that, but you could feel something.
You could barely notice while you still had your hands under the water, but the rippling on the surface of it couldn’t have been made by you. Not when the little pebbles on the ground were shaking, too.
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
The sound seemed to be coming from the corridor on your right. It was growing closer, but your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t move. You were just kneeling there, looking at the flickering torches lining the walls, with your hands still inside the pond, completely paralysed.
It wasn’t until you saw the shadow of something popping from around the corner that you actually came to your senses.
You had to run.
And you had to run now.
You stood up from the ground faster than you could even blink. Taking the lower part of your peplos with tight, wet fists, you just started to run as fast as you could. 
You could practically feel your heart in your throat as anxiety started to kick in. You had convinced yourself that this beast didn’t exist, you had thought that since you hadn’t seen it in your time here, it must’ve not existed at all.
But the deep bellow that resonated within the corridor was proof enough that you had been severely mistaken.
It was so loud that the sound seemed to penetrate into your skin and rattle your bones from deep within. A ringing broke free in your ears, accompanying your agitated heartbeat.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 
The whole ground shook with each heavy step the beast took, so much so, you tripped and fell into a path of rough gravel, ripping your clothing and scraping your knees in the process.
You couldn’t stop, though. There was no pain, no moment to think twice, you just stood up and kept running. You ran and ran and ran, turning the many corners of the Labyrinth as you went… 
There was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was useless, but you didn’t want to hear it. You refused to hear it.
At least, until you turned and found yourself in a dead end. 
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 
Whatever it was, it drew closer and closer, shaking the ceiling and the walls as it tried to catch up with you.
Maybe you could still escape it somehow. Maybe, you’d be able to run past it and lose it in the many corridors of the Labyrinth.
When you turned around, you realised just how foolish that thought had been.
The air escaped your lungs when your back hit the wall. Your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you could feel pressure on your sides from where you were being held against the wall.
Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen, you could barely make out the shape in front of you. Horns, fur, and… and a face.
You’d accepted your fate…
Or so you had thought.
“Please…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not only due to how breathless you were after running for so long and after being pushed so forcibly against the wall, but also because the knot in your throat was just too big. “Don’t–Don’t hurt me”.
The first tear fell down your cheek, and many more followed soon after. You couldn’t see properly. Whatever was in front of you, was big enough to shield all light from hitting whichever parts you could’ve potentially seen.
The creature huffed, and you closed your eyes tightly as its face moved closer to yours.
Its breath was warm against your face. You almost flinched, expecting the smell of rotten flesh to envelop you, but, instead, all you could smell was laurel.
You could feel yourself tremble in its hold as sobs kept escaping your throat. The creature sniffed you, first your face, then your neck. It got so close in its exploration that you could feel the tip of a textured, moist nose against your skin. You braced yourself for what was to come. You were sure it was getting ready to eat you whole, hopefully in one single chomp, so you wouldn’t have to suffer too much…
The thing pulled away from your neck, and just when you thought it was going to go for it, you were moving. 
It was so unexpected you barely registered it.
One second you were pressed against the bricks, and the next your stomach was pressing against firm muscle, and your arms were dangling over the creature’s back. Almost like it… like it had thrown you over its shoulder. And, after a few seconds of shock, you realised it had.
The beast had a strong hold on your back as it started to walk, presumably taking you somewhere.
You tried to blink the remaining tears away, at least enough so you could properly see something, anything.
You caught sight of the ground. You were definitely moving, and, for a moment, you thought you were imagining things. 
You could see smooth skin, you could feel it against your arms and hands whenever they hit it as they moved with each of the creature’s steps. Its back was very human-like… However, that smooth skin transitioned into dark fur towards the lower part of its body.
The tail of the creature swishing from side to side was the last thing you saw before you lost grasp of your surroundings.
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Warmth.
You felt warm, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like… a cosy feeling.
There was soft fabric under your hands, you could feel it dragging against your skin as your consciousness woke up.
Laurel… The smell of it filled your senses with that first intake of breath. 
Laurel… like the beast’s breath.
Your eyes snapped open. They immediately landed on the patch of night sky that could be seen from the hole in the ceiling, right on top of you. You blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the twinkling stars above you. 
Faint chewing sounds brought you back into the room, they made you remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. With quick movements, you sat up, and your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes locked onto the beast sitting a few metres in front of you.
Its eyes bore into yours as it chewed leisurely, on what you assumed to be a deer leg based on the shape of it. It didn’t make any movements, nor did it make any sounds–other than the occasional grunt when the meat was too stuck to the bone.
You were, quite honestly, speechless.
You had heard of the beast, but none of the descriptions truly matched what you were seeing right now.
A big, big creature. Inhumanly tall. Its torso was that of a man. Well defined, smooth, tanned skin, strong–very strong…–pecs, nipples adorned with silver jewellery, even stronger looking arms, and, although bigger than you had ever seen them, very human-looking hands. 
That torso transitioned into bovine-like lower limbs–covered in thick, dark fur, strong thighs and calves, ending in hooves. But, most impactful, was its head. Human-looking as well, save for the pair of horns that protruded from its skull and a cattle-like nose. The horns were decorated with thick silver rings that glistened with the very few torches lit around the room.
Its face, though… Chubby cheeks, pouty lips, and a strong, but bull-looking nose, pierced with a thick silver hoop. Objectively, the face of a handsome man, all things considered…
You had truly never, ever seen anything like it.
The way it was looking at you felt purposeful, like it wasn’t doing it just for the sake of it, but more like it was aware of your presence in a conscious, coherent way. It wasn’t just the way an animal would look at another animal, more like a human would look at another human.
You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of your body. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your arms… you were sore all over. When you finally broke eye contact with the creature–man…?–in front of you, and looked at yourself instead, you were perplexed at the sight of your bandaged knees.
Your eyes snapped back up to meet the beast’s, who was eating the last few pieces of meat off the bone in his hand, but still looking at you. 
“Did you…” Your voice broke due to your sore throat. You cleared it before you tried to speak again. “Did you do this?”
You gestured to the bandages, and it nodded to your question.
The beast understood you. It understood you and was able to answer the question.
“…Why?”
It seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, suckling on the bone to leave it completely clean before it threw it on a pile of bones in a corner of the room. Ultimately it simply shrugged, rendering you speechless once again.
The beast stood up from the ground, and walked towards another corner of the room, where a pond was. It knelt on the edge of it, and dipped its hands into the water. After scooping some water into its palms, it brought them close to his face and drank from them. 
Was it… washing its hands? And its mouth?
You realised it was, in fact, washing its mouth when it–he…?–finally stood up and walked over to some trees, where he plucked some leaves to eat them–or, more accurately, to chew on them.
“What… What are you?” You couldn’t help the question from leaving your mouth. What you were seeing right now was so absurd you just needed to ask.
He shrugged once again, chewing leisurely as it finally started walking closer to you. 
You honestly didn’t even try to move away, you were too in awe of his entire existence for your body to properly send you into fight or flight response. 
He was so… big. Even when he finally crouched in front of the pile of fabric you’d been laying on, he just looked huge.
“Changbin”, he said all of a sudden.
Your jaw went slack for a moment. He could speak.
“Ch–Changbin?”
He nodded. “That’s what… my father calls me”.
Changbin spoke slowly, like he wasn’t used to speaking at all. You supposed it made sense, considering the stories surrounding the beast inside the Labyrinth.
But… father, he said? “You… you have a father?”
He nodded again, but didn’t say anything else. Changbin just looked at you, in complete silence.
You’d admit it was a bit… awkward.
“Do you… Is this what you do with the people that are thrown into the Labyrinth?”
Changbin shook his head, which further puzzled you.
“I usually kill them. Sometimes I eat them if there’s nothing else to eat… Other times, just use them as food for the plants and birds that live here”, he said simply, like it was nothing. You supposed to him it was nothing.
“Why haven’t you killed me?” You had to ask, because you just couldn’t comprehend how you could still be alive.
His eyes jumped from one of yours to the other repeatedly for a bit. Until he eventually shrugged. “Don’t want to”.
You didn’t really feel like asking ‘Why?’ again, so you just cleared your throat, and decided to introduce yourself instead.
Changbin remained quiet for a few moments, until he repeated your name a few times out loud, like he was trying to get used to the sound. 
After about ten minutes of prying, Changbin explained to you that this was his den. It was at the very centre of the Labyrinth. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand, every twist and turn, every pond and every tree, he knew where absolutely everything was. Apparently, he’d lived here a long, long time.
You wanted to inquire more, but before you could, his ears perked up, and he looked towards the one and only exit of this area.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth”, he mumbled, almost to himself. He stood up from the floor, and wiped his hands on his fur before he started walking. When he reached the entrance, he turned back to look at you. “Stay here. Will be back in a couple of days”.
You didn’t really think you had any other choice.
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Coexisting with Changbin was… weird.
It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was certainly weird. 
He clearly didn’t understand human behaviour much. As in, he’d do things people typically didn’t do.
He’d stare at you a lot–very intensely, if you might add–he spoke in short sentences, or was too forward with what he said. For the most part, though, you didn’t mind. Considering the type of men you were used to, Changbin was far from bad.
Was he a huge half-man, half-bull creature that ate humans sometimes?
Yes.
But even then, he was heaps better than other men you’d met.
He had offered his nest for you to sleep on. He’d shared with you any fish he caught, and even brought you fruit sometimes. For the most part, you didn’t leave his den, and he simply let you stay.
Being honest, part of the reason why you didn’t leave was because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. After all, he’d brought you in here himself. 
Whenever someone entered the Labyrinth, he’d always ask you to stay while he left to look for them. Upon his return, he’d also share whichever goods he’d retrieved.
“You want this?” Changbin offered you a lump of fabric. It almost looked like a napkin in his hands, but when you took it and had a good look at it, you realised it was a chiton. And a fairly new one at that.
Your peplos was way too worn by now. You weren’t really sure how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth at this point, but you also figured it really didn’t matter. You’d washed your clothes plenty of times during your time here, but the rips and tears were just too many already, so you accepted the fresh garment.
“Thank you”, you looked up at him, trying not to focus too much on the swell of his chest, or the trail of fur that started from his navel and continued downwards, turning into his bovine legs.
Changbin was, truly, a sight to behold. Roughly three metres of hunk… The longer you spent around him, the longer you just… wanted to look at him. 
You supposed you weren’t any different than him in that regard. At least, he didn’t seem bothered by it when you stared at him.
Changbin nodded, and made his way to his makeshift, newer nest. You felt a bit bad that you’d taken his much bigger sleeping space, but when you tried to get him to use it again, he simply told you ‘It’s your nest now’, so you just… kept using it to lay and sleep on.
“Washed it on my way here”, Changbin said once he was sitting on his nest, looking at you. Only then did you realise he’d not only brought the chiton with him, but also a bowl full of what looked like wildberries, and a guest.
The guest sat on the very top of his head, it was a bird. A fairly small one, but one that was clearly injured, if the way it weakly fluttered its wings was anything to go by.
You nodded, and repeated a soft ‘Thank you’. You honestly tried not to think too much about the person this piece of clothing belonged to just a few days ago. There was no point in that… It was yours now. 
When you brought your hand to the fabric belt around your waist, you untied the knot that kept your peplos in place. The garment loosened, but before you could remove it, you looked back at Changbin.
He was just… staring at you. Like he always did.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat you felt spreading on your cheeks. “Could you, uhm…”
His ears perked up, listening intently to what you had to say. 
“Could you maybe look away?” 
Changbin blinked slowly, and his tail started swishing calmly behind him. “Why?”
“Because, y’know… I’m going to undress”, you replied simply, bringing the chiton closer to your chest. The heat on your face seemed to intensify.
“And?” 
You were slightly taken aback by that. But as you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than genuine curiosity in his eyes. “I’ll undress… That means I’ll be naked in front of you”.
“Okay”.
Now you started blinking slowly. Okay he said. Just… Okay. How… odd. “Changbin, I don’t want you to, uh… see”.
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why?”
“Because it’s not appropriate”.
“How come?” He placed the bowl on the ground and leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs in front of him. “I’m naked right now”.
Ah… You supposed he was naked.
You tried really hard not to move your eyes away from his face, especially considering the position he was in… You didn’t want your eyes to just wander to improper territories. After all, there seemed to be a lot to look at…
As you pushed aside the chaotic thoughts inside your head, his comment made you realise that maybe it wasn’t inappropriate to be naked. At least not here, not with Changbin.
You weren’t on the surface anymore. You weren’t bound to human customs anymore, not since the moment you’d been sentenced, and the more you thought of that, the more you started to understand. 
This was your safe place now. There was no judgement here, or, at least, you hadn’t felt any at all.
So you swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. With your eyes fixed on Changbin’s, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that took over your face as you undid your peplos. 
The garment fell to the floor, and only then did his eyes wander. He looked at you, with his head tilted to the side. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes twinkle under the light of the few flickering torches on the wall. ‘Don’t like to keep too many in here… Too bright’, Changbin had told you a few days ago, when you’d asked why there weren’t as many torches in his den as in the corridor walls, and his answer had just made sense to you.
You could almost feel his eyes tracing every curve of your body, and you tried to not focus on how that made you feel. Instead, you just threw the chiton on and quickly fastened it with the belt around your waist.
Changbin’s eyes were back on yours as you finished fixing your clothes, before you started to plait your hair.
“Are you cold?” He asked all of a sudden, just as you finished tying your hair.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not… not particularly?” 
“Why’d you wear that, then?”
“Wear what? This?” You gestured to the garment you’d just put on, and Changbin simply nodded to your question. You blinked blankly at him for a few moments before you answered him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be showing my body like that, y’know? It’s inappropriate. At least, on the surface it is. So we just… wear clothes”.
“That’s why humans wear clothes?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, and based on the way his eyes widened, you figured he was. “Thought y’all were just cold all the time”.
You couldn’t help but snort at that. You laughed. You laughed like you hadn’t laughed in weeks, almost madly even. 
This was all just so, so absurd. You’d been sentenced to death, and somehow, you’d ended up here, with a creature like Changbin. A sentient creature that thought humans wore clothes just because ‘they were cold all the time’.
“Why shouldn’t you show your body?” Changbin looked beyond confused, and somehow it made you laugh harder. “It’s… well, there. It’s you. Why hide it?”
Your laugh died down, and you wiped the few stray tears that had fallen from your eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t seem fazed by your fit of laughter other than looking mildly confused now, so you just composed yourself and answered him as honestly as you could. “It’s… a private thing…”
“Private?” Changbin asked, tilting his head cutely to the side. “So no one has seen you naked?”
You went quiet at that, and started fidgeting with the end of your belt. “Some people have… Y’know, my mum… My–my husband…”
The title left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you tried to ignore it. You didn’t like thinking about him. Whenever you did, you always tried to squash the mental image to the deepest recesses of your mind. It was just… a bit too much still.
“You’re married?” Changbin asked, curiously, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.
“Not anymore”, you looked away from him, trying to ignore his peering eyes. You really didn’t feel like elaborating further, so you tried to divert the conversation by talking about literally anything else. The weather, the flowers that had started to bloom in his garden, the bird on top of his head…
Changbin didn’t really pry further, he just followed your chaotic rambling as best as he could, until he eventually started crushing the berries in his bowl and telling you about the bird.
Apparently, he’d found it yesterday when he was on his way back here, and had been trying to nurse it back into health since. While he told you the story, he kept crushing the wildberries in his bowl, and he’d occasionally bring his free hand up to the little critter. It simply pecked his fingertip a few times before it resumed grooming his hair. 
After a while, he stood up from his makeshift nest. With his bowl of crushed berries in hand, and the injured bird nestled on the crown of his head among his messy hair, Changbin made his way to a nearby wall. You just watched him curiously from where you were laying on his original nest.
Changbin dipped two of his fingers in the mixture of crushed berries, and then he just… drew a line on the wall.
Then another…
And another… 
He was silent for the most part, but low noises would occasionally resonate from his chest when the little bird on his head chirped. It was almost like they were having a conversation.
And you figured they were. Mostly because every couple of lines he made, he’d huff, and the bird would chirp in response. Changbin simply nodded–carefully, as to not let the bird fall with the movement–and kept on drawing.
You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just looking at him doing his thing, but it was genuinely fascinating. The way his tail would sway every once in a while, the way the muscles on his back flexed and relaxed as he moved all sorts of ways as he painted on the walls…
Eventually, his lines took the very distinct shape of a bird, one that mirrored the one on his head almost perfectly.
“Changbin?” You asked after a while. He hummed to let you know he was listening, so you continued. “Did you make all the other drawings throughout the Labyrinth?”
It seemed like a silly question to ask, because, who else would’ve done it, if not the beast doing one just now in front of you?
Changbin added the finishing touches to his drawing, then he turned to look at you. He offered the remnants of crushed berries in his bowl to the bird, just as he brought the two fingers he’d been using to his mouth so he could lick them clean.
You tried not to focus too much on the action by fixing your eyes on his. 
He pulled his digits out of his mouth with a slight sucking sound, and nodded. “I did”.
“Mmm… They’re pretty”, you said simply.
Because, to you, they were.
You found them odd when you first saw them, since they didn’t seem to fit the aura surrounding this place, but they were certainly pretty. And knowing they’d been made by him, just seemed to make them even prettier.
Changbin finally put the bowl down on one of the many tall–but flat–rocks scattered throughout the room, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks had reddened. “Thanks…”
You just offered him a smile, even if he wasn’t looking at you. 
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A cold wind filtered through the hole in the ceiling, it had your teeth chattering and your whole body shivering. You tried to cover yourself further, but the way Changbin had built his nest made it so you really couldn’t pull fabric from it without messing it up, and there was no spare cloth close by that you could use as a blanket.
It made sense, you supposed. He didn’t seem like he needed anything to keep himself warm, and you also hadn’t needed it before during your stay here, so you hadn’t even tried to ask for one.
You heard faint shuffling, followed by quiet thump, thump, thumps, until you felt warmth close to you.
“Tiny human”, Changbin mumbled, pulling your attention fully towards him.
You hummed to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t open your eyes, nor did you feel like wasting energy saying actual words. You needed to use every bit of it you could to try to keep yourself warm.
“You’re whimpering. Why?”
Had you been whimpering?
You hadn’t even realised you were. Maybe you’d fallen asleep without noticing… 
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling form, but it only brought a rush of cold air inside your body. “M’cold…”
There was silence for a moment. With half lidded eyes, you could’ve sworn you were seeing your breath coming out of your mouth in little white clouds. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it agitated you a bit more, but you couldn’t even express it fully.
Changbin was quiet for a long while, but you could still feel him close. You appreciated it. It felt like moral support, at least. 
Eventually, you heard–and felt–him shuffle closer to the nest. “Can I… Can I keep you warm?”
You immediately nodded. You didn’t care what he did, or how he did it. You just needed to be warm, and if he could give you that you’d honestly take it.
There was more shuffling, and then there was a minute dip in the nest. You yelped when you felt Changbin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you into him from behind.
His hold was strong, firm, but also… gentle. He kept you close, with his chin resting on the top of your head and a hand pressed firmly against your stomach. He was so close, and so, so warm, you immediately felt yourself relaxing, moulding into his body, almost like… like you’d always been meant to.
Slowly, his warmth seeped into you, until you were no longer shivering. Tentatively, you placed a hand on top of the one he kept on your stomach. You could’ve sworn you felt him jump a bit behind you, but as soon as you started tracing his knuckles with your fingertips, he seemed to relax once again.
You weren’t really sure what compelled you to do it, you had just… felt like doing it. You spent a while just like that, feeling each knuckle of his fingers, feeling the prominent veins on the back of his hand. They were so big… especially compared to your own.
You’d never felt like a particularly small person, but next to him, you certainly looked tiny, you felt tiny. But only physically. Being honest, you’d never felt as equal to someone as you felt with Changbin.
“I think you’re pretty, too”, he mumbled all of a sudden, and for a moment, you felt your heart stop, only to resume its beating at record-breaking speeds. “Like my drawings, I mean…”
You turned in his hold, and immediately buried your face in his neck. Not only seeking the heat of his skin, but also trying to hide the flustered reaction on your face. He just held you closer, further enveloping you in his warmth. 
“Thank you…” You mumbled against the skin of his neck, and he simply offered you a tiny sound of content in response.
In the safety of Changbin’s arms, blanketed in his body heat, you finally fell asleep. 
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You didn’t mind staying at Changbin’s den, but you were starting to get a bit… bored. 
Mostly if he was gone. When he was there, you could at least strike conversation, or play some sort of game. Knucklebones was a favourite of yours, for example.
When he wasn’t here, all you did was try to keep yourself entertained with whatever items Changbin had lying around, or by tending to the garden inside the den.
At some point, you’d managed to use some of the numerous pieces of fabric he’d collected to make yourself a proper blanket. Although, to be fair, you hardly ever needed it.
It was a given at this point that he’d snuggle up next to you to keep you warm. Since that very first night, you’d only had to use your blanket when someone had entered the Labyrinth and he wasn’t here.
You’d admit, sleeping with Changbin was… nice. Especially since temperatures seemed to be decreasing by the day.
He was all plush and warm and his heartbeat just helped you relax. Ever since you got married–since you were forced to get married…–you had never enjoyed sharing your sleeping space, but, with Changbin, it was different. You just… felt safe. As odd as that might sound.
“It’s not fair! You got it so much easier to pick those up!” Changbin huffed, clicking his tongue when you, once again, beat him at your game of knucklebones.
“Find bigger pieces, then!” You chuckled, jiggling the small set of bones in your hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of huge rocks you can get in here”.
He just clicked his tongue again, finishing in a cute pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. All that did was bring your attention to the swell of his pecs and the size of his arms, which immediately made you swallow. 
Dear Gods, was he big… 
You scrambled to fix your eyes on his face. These were thoughts you didn’t feel like entertaining… what would be the point of it if you did? What would you even do with someone like Changbin? It felt a bit too… complicated. But, there was a little voice in the deepest areas of your conscience begging you to entertain the thought… telling you that it’d surely be worth it.
You decided to ignore it.
“Hey, Changbin”, you tried to get his attention back on you, disregarding the plethora of sinful scenarios that were playing in the back of your mind. 
Changbin’s ears flickered before he was fixing his eyes on you again, so you took it as a sign to speak. “You think I could… go out for a walk?”
He uncrossed his arms so he could lean back on his hands, once again, making you absolutely struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on whatever was going on between his legs. “You want to?”
You just nodded in response, nervously tapping on the floor one of the bones you held in your hand.
“Then you can”, he replied simply.
“I can?” You didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but you supposed his nonchalance did take you by surprise.
“‘Course. If you want to, you can”.
“You don’t mind?”
Changbin blinked slowly at you for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I mind?”
“Dunno… I thought you… thought you might”.
“Why did you think that?”
Huh, good question… Why would you think that?
You supposed there was a part of you that had just kind of… assumed he’d mind. But you realised then that he’d never really said anything about it.
He’d only ever asked you to stay when someone else came into the Labyrinth, and you supposed it made sense he would if he cared for your safety. Which you were pretty sure he did, considering all he’d done for you so far… So you just offered him a smile and a slight shake of your head. 
“Ah, it’s nothing…” You stood up from the floor and wiped your hands on your chiton. “‘Suppose I’ll be back in a bit…”
Changbin just hummed to acknowledge you, but didn’t say anything else, so you made your way to the entrance of the room.
When you finally reached it, you stopped. As you looked at the corridor outside of the circle-shaped area that made Changbin’s den, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink. No matter where you looked, left or right, the way was seemingly endless. Every direction looked almost the same–save for the few paintings on the walls and the different textures on the floor.
If you left for a walk, would you be able to find your way back? You honestly weren’t too sure, and, truly… you wanted to come back. You were sure there was no better place to be inside the Labyrinth other than here, with Changbin.
So you turned around, finding the beast himself looking at you. 
His tail swayed calmly behind him, his ears occasionally flickered, but, for the most part, he looked serene, sitting there on the floor where he’d been just before you stood up yourself.
“Would you… uhm…” You pinched a piece of your chiton between your fingers, and started fidgeting with it, looking in his overall direction but not really looking at him. “Would you like to come with me?”
You finally looked at his face. There was a small smile on his lips, and it honestly made your heart flutter. “Y’know I’ll find you if you get lost, right?”
No.
No, you didn’t know that.
You didn’t know he’d go out of his way to find you if you disappeared. You knew that he cared about what happened to you to some degree, but enough to look for you if you got lost? Even if it could potentially take days?
If you thought about it, maybe that, too, made sense. Maybe he enjoyed your presence just as much as you did his.
Licking your lips, you let go of that bit of fabric you’d been rolling between your fingers. “Would you come with me anyway?”
With a huff, Changbin stood up from the ground. He wiped his hands on his thighs, just before he walked to stand next to you. That was a good enough answer for you.
So, you finally stepped out into the corridor, and Changbin followed soon after.
The farther you tried to look, the more anxiety seemed to pool in your stomach. If the Labyrinth had made you claustrophobic when you first stepped in it, right now, leaving Changbin’s den, you felt haunted with agoraphobia. 
The corridors were endless, the ceiling felt like it was way too high–unlikely, since it was pretty much the same height as it was inside the den…–and the fact that you couldn’t see the first turn in either direction you looked had your head spinning. So you turned back to Changbin.
“Is there any place you like? If there is, I’d like you to show me”.
Changbin just nodded, and started walking. You followed him from closely behind, nervously looking over your shoulder sometimes, but, for the most part, you tried to focus on the drawings on the walls, or the flashes of nature around you.
It was quiet, save for the flicker of the eternal fire and the thumps produced with each step Changbin took. They weren’t as loud as they’d been the first time you heard him, probably because he was walking very, very slowly.
Even if he was walking slowly, though, you were starting to get out of breath from trying to keep up with the steps his long legs could take. One of Chanbin’s steps could’ve very well been ten of yours…
You weren’t sure how many turns you took, you simply followed him wherever he would go, asking for a few pauses sometimes when you felt like you needed to catch your breath.
There were parts of the Labyrinth that were dimmer than others. As Changbin explained to you, it was either because someone had taken a torch off its support on the wall and never returned it, or he himself had moved the torches somewhere else.
When you asked him why he’d moved them, he just said he’d get bored, and just found some entertainment in moving things around. Fair enough, you guessed…
Both of you finally came to a full stop in front of a tree. A big, very old-looking one. There was a patch of grass all around it, and it was almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The hole above it surely provided enough light and water for the tree to thrive even down here. 
“This is a place I like. Birds come in here sometimes. They keep me company”, Changbin plopped down at the base of the tree and leaned on it. While he looked at you, he patted the grass in front of him, right between his legs.
Your body reacted before your mind could, and, almost instinctively, you found yourself sitting on the grass and snuggled against his chest. He just wrapped his arms around your frame and kept you close, like he often did. 
Soon enough, birds started coming in from the hole high above your heads, and you simply closed your eyes and started to hum a melody to accompany their chirping. You could certainly understand why he’d like being in a place like this, it was peaceful.
“You…” Changbin mumbled after a while, while he softly traced shapes on your arm with his thumb. “You used to pray, didn’t you?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, just before you pulled yourself away from his embrace to look him in the eyes. There was a bird perched on one of his horns already, picking at his hair, but he seemed unbothered by it.
“How’d you… How do you know that?” No one knew you prayed. In fact, you hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. It used to bring you comfort, maybe even hope, but that, too, had been crushed by the heavy weight of reality many moons ago.
Changbin looked up at the hole in the ceiling, which was covered by iron rods. His gaze was fixed on it for a while, and he remained quiet for a bit.
“I think I used to hear you pray”, his eyes were on yours again, and you suddenly felt your cheeks heating up at the attention. “You used to sing, too. Hum, like you did just now… The birds back then used to tell me you brought them food”.
The site you prayed at was incredibly far from where you’d been dropped into the Labyrinth. You knew this place was huge, but you honestly hadn’t realised just how much until this very moment.
“You stopped coming, though”, Changbin looked at you in a way that made you feel almost like he knew… “Was it because of him?”
Please! Don’t hurt me!
The memory was fresh, it wasn’t one you could just forget. Your husband… he wasn’t fond of the Gods, especially not the ones you prayed to. After all, you were praying in hopes they’d just… do something.
When law enforcement didn’t pay attention to you, you had turned to your faith for help.
But they, too, had failed you.
When your husband found out you’d been going to that specific place in the forest to pray, that you had your own humble shrine in there, he made absolutely sure you never returned. The place was now riddled with memories of nothing but pain, sorrow…
You felt a knot swell in your throat, out of fury more than anything else. You refused to let tears fall, though. The damage was done already, and even if you felt infuriated by how unjust everything that happened back then had been, the nightmare was over, and you had no one to thank but yourself for it.
Looking at Changbin, you nodded, just to let him know that it had been, in fact, because of him that you’d stopped going to pray to the forest currently above your heads.
“Even back then… I felt like it was unfair”, Changbin’s eyes jumped all over your face, while his thumb kept caressing the skin of your arm.
“It was”, you replied simply, looking up at him from where you were sitting between his legs. “But it’s no longer a problem. It’s stopped now”.
The bird that had been picking at Changbin’s hair finally flew away when he nodded. You looked him in the eyes for a while longer, until you finally leaned into him once again, and rested your head on his chest, right over his heart.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
The gentle rhythm vibrated against your ear, and, right then and there, you knew that it had all truly stopped. You were safe. It was, definitely, no longer a problem. In a way, you’d made sure of that…
You both stayed under that tree for a long time that afternoon, until you asked Changbin to show you anywhere else he liked before you made it back to the den.
Without saying a word, he effortlessly picked you up from the ground, and took you in his arms, making you all flustered when he offered you a ‘Tiny legs. Makes you slow…’ which you supposed you couldn’t argue with. To him, your legs were surely tiny, especially when compared to his own.
When you were back at Changbin’s den, you were tired, so you quickly washed up before you had dinner. Seared fish–courtesy of the eternal fire from one of the torches–with an assortment of fruits that somehow worked together, finished off with the corresponding pile of laurel leaves Changbin liked to chew on often–a habit which you yourself had picked up overtime.
It wasn’t long until you found yourself in Changbin’s nest, surrounded by soft fabric and his warmth. Cuddling had become one of your favourite winding down activities, and you certainly liked to do it for as long as you could. There was something about the closeness to someone else that felt… fulfilling. And you’d never truly felt this close to someone in your life.
Oftentimes, while cuddling, you also found yourself having the most profound conversations with Changbin. Either you or him–or both–would start bearing their hearts out for the other, and it was… nice.
Regardless of what you spoke about, it was nice.
“You…” Changbin mumbled, burying his fingers in your hair to gently caress your scalp. “Why’d they drop you here?”
You took a deep breath, mindlessly playing with the thick fur in the middle of his chest. “I took someone’s life…”
Changbin hummed, nuzzling your forehead with his nose. It was moist against your skin, but you didn’t mind.
“My husband…” You started, stilling the movement of your fingers in his fur to instead lay your hand on his chest. “I was just… I tried to get help. Every time he hurt me, I tried to get help. So, so many times… but no one listened. One night, he was trying to force himself on me and I just… took one of those hideous stone busts he kept around the house and I… hit him in the head”.
The memory wasn’t pleasant. You still remembered the first moment of shock, when you stared at his limp body on the floor. You remembered the blood, how it started to pool and stain that equally hideous rug he’d purchased for way too much money. You remembered the mess left behind when you tried to move your husband’s body out of the house so you could hide it in the forest…
But you were caught.
You were caught and no matter how much you explained what had happened, no one believed you.
“So I was sentenced to die”, you looked away from his chest to look him in the eyes. They seemed to be sparkling under the moonlight shining on you both. His eyes… They were gentle, and had the prettiest shade of brown you’d ever seen. “I should be dead by now. They were expecting you to kill me”.
Changbin’s eyes flickered between yours. They danced around your face for a moment, until they settled on your mouth. “I couldn’t. Don’t want to, either”.
“I know”, you mumbled simply. Bringing a hand to his face, you started tracing his features, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheeks… Changbin just closed his eyes as soon as your fingertips were on his skin, and his ears flickered happily as you did. “You’re way more than the beast people make you out to be”.
“You think so?” He asked it in a way that made it seem like he genuinely cared about what you had to say, like your opinion was valuable to him.
You hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly, because you truly meant it. Changbin was a bit of a brute, he was very capable of harming you, but he was also capable of being so incredibly gentle. Like he’d been with the injured bird he’d brought to his den many months ago. Like he’d been with you when he tended to your wounds when he brought you in here, or when you were shivering from the cold…
“Changbin…” You broke the silence after a while, placing your hand on his cheek and stroking the skin with your thumb. “Do you know what a kiss is?”
Changbin opened his eyes then, offering you an almost shy nod of his head.
“Have you kissed anyone before?” You placed your free hand on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating so incredibly fast… It was almost like you could feel every thump penetrate into your palm and rattle your insides.
Changbin shook his head, fixing his eyes on your mouth once again.
You licked your lips, almost absentmindedly. He was so close, and so warm, and you just… wanted him. “Would you like to?”
Changbin nodded again, so you just went for it.
Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his for a moment before you connected them fully. It was almost shy, just a tender peck on his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.
You pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. Sparkly… Even more so than before. In an instant, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer against his body as he leaned in to kiss you again.
It was slow, gentle, and it made your heart flutter. His lips slotted so perfectly with yours, you couldn’t even believe you’d ever kissed anyone else. So many kisses wasted, when you could’ve been giving them to him instead…
Tentatively, your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. He seemed to get the hint, since he parted his lips to let you in. With your arms around his neck, you kissed him deeply. He kissed you deeply.
At this very moment, there was nothing else in the world that wasn’t you and Changbin. The only thing that mattered was him and you in his nest, slowly getting your mouths acquainted with one another.
You didn’t know how long you spent right there, but you also didn’t care. By the time the moon had moved around in the sky and left you in partial darkness in Changbin’s den, you could already feel him poking your stomach.
The feeling of him, hard against your belly, set your insides alight.
You’d known for a long time, you’d been trying to ignore it, but you couldn’t do that any longer… You really wanted Changbin. Carnally. Like you’d want any other person.
His hands… His big, warm hands roamed your back, your rear, your thighs… It was like he wanted to make sure no part of your body was left untouched–at least the ones he currently had access to over your clothes. The kiss was turning sloppier and sloppier by the second, and, in no time, low bellows were resonating from Changbin’s chest.
It was just when you carded your fingers through his hair that he stiffened, fixing his hands on your waist and gripping you tightly to stop the grind of your hips you hadn’t even realised you’d started doing. 
When had he laid on his back? When had you straddled his waist? You were so lost in your kiss you hadn’t even noticed…
He pulled back fully, offering you an apologetic look while he brought his thumb to your bottom lip and swiped it over the swollen skin.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth…” Changbin mumbled, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been so close.
You pouted sadly, but nodded in understanding. With one final peck on his lips, you finally rolled off of him and onto the plush nest, where you curled into yourself as you watched him get up.
Changbin bent down to kiss your forehead. He brushed his textured nose tenderly against yours for a moment, just before he threw your makeshift blanket over your body.
“I’ll be back in a few days. Hm?”
You simply nodded again, feeling your eyes growing heavier as sleep started to cling to your muscles. 
After one final smile, Changbin finally turned around and made his way out of his den. 
You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him before he left, and, Gods… You really, really wanted him…
As you let your hand find its way between your legs, and even in your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but fully come face to face with the realisation that you wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone else before.
With the tingles of pleasure you were coaxing from your centre that spread to all of your limbs, your mind wandered, trying to figure out just how you could… take him.
You had to find a way. You were determined to find a way.
You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you were certain you would.
Eventually, you would.
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Changbin was taking longer than usual to come back from his last outing, and it was starting to worry you.
The first couple of days went by as usual. You washed any garments of clothing you’d collected over time, you tended to any of Changbin’s friends–meaning, the birds that would come from the surface–whenever they dropped by, or you simply spent it brainstorming all the possible ways in which you could pleasure such a monstrous cock.
Not only that, but how you could get pleasure from that monstrous cock. Because you were set on making the most of it. Gone were the days in which you shied away from your desires. You were a living being with needs, and if you couldn’t fulfil those needs with a literal giant half-bull, half-man creature, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else.
Besides, though, you didn’t want anyone else. 
And it wasn’t the fact that you were living in the Labyrinth and couldn’t even meet other human beings. What you felt for Changbin was something you’d never felt before. You genuinely cared about him… You cared a lot.
Which was why, by the fifth day he hadn’t returned to the den, you had bitten all ten of your nails almost to the flesh.
Where was he?
You were convinced it was pretty much impossible for him to get lost inside the Labyrinth, but what if he had?
Or worse…
What if whoever had been dropped in here hurt him?
What if he was hurt and you couldn’t help him?
Oh, Gods… 
What if he was dead?
Your chest felt heavy, you could barely breathe… What would you do without Changbin? You could definitely survive with all the resources you had here, but the question was… did you want to?
What was the point of staying alive inside the Labyrinth without him?
You wanted to cry just thinking about it. 
Tears were pricking your eyes, and it felt like your throat was closing up. 
At least, until…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
You pretty much jumped from where you’d been sitting on the floor, sprinted out of the den and into the corridor. At this point, you could recognise Changbin’s heavy steps like your own heartbeat.
Looking left and right, you were unsure where exactly he was coming from, since the echo seemed to be coming from every direction. After a few moments of panic, you finally saw him to your left, so you ran.
You barely heard him saying your name when you were close, you were too focused on getting to him. When you buried your face in his stomach, he immediately started to caress your hair.
“Shh, hey…” He mumbled, dropping whatever he had in his free hand so he could press his palm on your back. “Don’t cry”.
You were sobbing, and you hadn’t even realised it until he had pointed it out.
When you pulled away, you could barely see him through your blurry vision. With one of his knuckles, he gently wiped the tears running down your cheeks.
It was only then that you noticed them, the cuts and gashes that littered his whole torso. The sight had adrenaline rushing into your body immediately.
“Oh, my dear Gods! What happened to you?!”
“Kid was resilient”, was all he said when he pulled himself away from your hold. He bent down–with seemingly great effort–and took the bag that he’d dropped on the ground. “C’mon, need to… to lay down. Will tell you everything after…”
You took the bag from him immediately, and wrapped your free hand around one of his fingers to gently tug him forward–as if that would do anything…
It took several minutes for both of you to reach the den once again. As soon as you were inside, Changbin pretty much collapsed on the ground, and started instructing you to bring him all sorts of herbs from his garden along with some fresh water.
You got to work, following Changbin’s directions to clean him up, apply the freshly chewed mix of leaves on the open wounds, and dress them with whichever extra pieces of fabric you could find laying around. As you did this, he told you about the young man that had entered the Labyrinth. 
Apparently, he was skilled enough to not only hurt Changbin, but also to essentially defeat him.
“All these years, no one has ever come this close to killing me…”
The concept of Changbin being killed made your heart ache, but you pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the task at hand, as well as to continue listening to him. 
The young man had spared him. He’d told Changbin that he’d come into the Labyrinth out of his own free will because he was looking for something. 
“Told him I’d help him find it if he let me live”, Changbin said once you’d finished dressing his wounds and he’d finally laid down on your nest.
“And? Did you?” You asked as you gathered two heavy jugs of fresh water to bring them to him. After all, two jugs were pretty much two glasses of water for him…
Changbin drank both jugs one after the other, each one in one gulp, offering a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he answered your question. “Yeah. Pointed him in the right direction, told him how to find the way to the spot he was looking for…”
You laid down next to him, and snuggled yourself as close as you could. Changbin pulled you even closer, and only then did he seem to fully relax, practically melting into your nest.
“He wanted me to go with him… But I was too hurt”, he mumbled against your hair, sounding just so incredibly tired. “Also… I had to come home. Needed to be here with you…”
You felt tears well in your eyes again. Holding him tight–being careful to not apply too much pressure on his wounds–you craned your neck, just so you could press a lingering kiss on his cheek.
Changbin exhaled a shaky breath with the motion, and, after pressing a few more pecks on his skin, you finally laid your head on his chest.
“Welcome home…” The words came out of your mouth as barely a whisper, mostly because you didn’t trust your voice right now. You were already feeling your whole body trembling as the tears started to fall again.
Changbin held you tight, pressing a final kiss on the crown of your head.
“Missed you, tiny human…” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he passed out.
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Caring for an injured giant was easier than you had expected it to be. Although, you’d admit that helping him wash up was a bit hard.
Not because you had to provide any sort of support when he got into a pond or anything like that, but mostly because Changbin insisted that he needed you in there with him.
He got extra whiny about it, but you didn’t let him coax you into it. Not because you didn’t want to, but because, if you did get naked with him in the water, you knew you’d get distracted and his wounds could suffer the consequences.
After a few days, he seemed to have regained most of his strength, and the cuts scattered over his body were healing nicely. Even then, he kept insisting he needed you to help him.
“If you want to see me naked, just say so”, you couldn’t hold that back any longer. The words just flew past your lips, and you knew they’d had the desired effect as soon as you saw the pink tint on his cheeks.
“I don’t–I mean, I do, but it’s not–” He was tumbling over his words, and it was absolutely adorable. 
You stood up from where you’d been sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pond, and started toying with the belt of your chiton. He went quiet immediately, and his eyes zeroed in on the way you played with the fabric between your fingertips.
“Do you want to see me naked, Changbin?”
He blinked slowly for a moment, and his ears flickered cutely. “Maybe…”
“Maybe?” You untied the knot, and the garment immediately loosened.
You saw him swallow. His gaze remained fixed on your belt, like he was trying to somehow make it disappear completely. 
“Changbin?” You called him again, and his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, giving you his undivided attention. “Do you want to?”
Changbin stared at you for a moment before he nodded. That tiny movement, coupled with the light blush on his cheeks made you feel… empowered. Which was something you had never really felt before in this context.
You’d heard other people tell you about it, you’d read about it in the romance novels you used to read, but you had never truly experienced it. That feeling, coupled with how pliant a literal giant like Changbin got when you so much hinted at being naked, filled you with confidence.
So you removed your clothes, and slowly, you went into the pond.
Changbin was sitting on the ground, which made it so you were almost at eye level with him. You could practically feel his eyes all over your body, leaving an almost searing sensation on your skin. 
When you finally stood in front of him, his hands found your waist. Changbin pulled you closer, so your bodies could be flush to each other. With your arms around his neck, you leaned in for a kiss.
He held you tightly, but gently. You knew he was well aware of his strength, and you knew he liked to be careful so as to not hurt you, which you certainly appreciated.
When you pulled back from the kiss, Changbin brushed your nose against yours, making you giggle. As usual, it was moist, but you didn’t mind.
“You’re pretty”, he whispered the words against your shoulder, where he was pressing lingering kisses on your skin–being extra careful not to poke you with his horns.
“And you’re very handsome”, you replied simply, because it was the truth. Months ago, you hadn’t even known someone like him could exist, and here you were now, absolutely smitten by what most would consider an oddity.
“You think so?” He mumbled absentmindedly, dragging his hands all over your back. His large hands…
“Mm… I do think so”.
He pulled away so he could look at you. A smile had spread across his face, making his eyes turn into little crescents. It always made your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and it was certainly a contagious gesture.
Changbin kissed your cheek once, twice, thrice more, before he was speaking again. 
“Y’know… I haven’t… I’ve never…” He sighed, frowning before he shook his head and started all over again. “Want to make you feel good, but I don’t know how”.
Your eyes widened a bit. Not because you didn’t know that he wouldn’t know how to make you feel good, but because he seemed to genuinely care about it.
“I can show you”, you caressed his shoulders briefly before you cupped his cheeks. “Then you can show me how to make you feel good, hm?”
Changbin nodded, rather enthusiastically, and it made you smile.
“There are… many places you can touch to make me feel good”, you dragged your hands down his arms, until you reached his hands and pulled them away from your back. “For example, here…”
You brought his hands to your chest, and he reflexively squeezed the flesh. “That feels nice, but… touch here”.
Taking a hold of one of his fingers, you guided it to your nipple. The rough pad of his fingertip dragging over the sensitive skin immediately had a shiver running up and down your spine. 
He seemed to catch on very quickly, because the moment you let go of his hands, he immediately started to stimulate your chest. Between his motions and the cool water around you, your nipples stiffened further, and the first whimper came out of your mouth.
Changbin looked at you for a moment, like he was unsure if he had done something wrong, so you immediately reassured him.
“That’s good… Feels good”.
“Feels good?” He asked, adding a bit more pressure.
You nodded in confirmation, and then took a hold of his wrists. “Pinch them harder between your fingers”.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, though”, he sounded genuinely worried about it, which would’ve made you heart melt in other circumstances, but in these circumstances, you needed him to give you all he had–or, at least, all you could stand.
“Do it gradually, I’ll let you know ‘til when. Trust me?”
Changbin nodded, and immediately obliged. As soon as he reached the pressure that was just perfect, you let him know–in quite possibly the most desperate tone you’d ever mustered.
Your lips were on his thereafter. He tugged and pulled and stimulated your nipples in ways that had you moaning into his mouth, that seemed to be coaxing inhuman noises from deep within him.
Your centre was throbbing, desperate for some attention, so you pulled away from the kiss. You were met with Changbin’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks, a sight so incredibly delectable you started to seriously entertain the impossible. Would he fit…?
“Here, too”, you took a hold of one of his hands and brought it between your thighs, giving him enough space to manoeuvre. “You feel that bump?”
When the pad of his finger made contact with your clit you almost jolted in place, but you tried to stay focused as best as you could. 
“Rub in circles. Gently”.
He complied, following the same motions as before, increasing the speed and pressure until you told him exactly how you liked it to be. 
It all became a blur of moans and pants and bellows… All you could feel was the pleasure coursing through your body and Changbin’s warmth all around you. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, his fingers… He was working you up diligently, bringing you closer to the edge.
“So good…” You whimpered against his lips, just before your tongues were intertwined again.
Changbin nodded, almost mindlessly. 
When you’d finally reached your climax, you did so with his name on your tongue. Repeating it over and over again like it was the only word you knew in this world.
You’d found pleasure on your own many, many times, but it’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your feelings for him, or if it’d been the thrill of having this experience with Changbin for the first time, but the way that orgasm seemed to be consuming every single one of your senses was absolutely mind-blowing.
He didn’t stop working you up until you asked him to. As soon as he did, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him for support. Changbin held you tightly, lovingly caressing your back and pressing kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.
“Prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard…” He mumbled against your skin, and it made you laugh.
You felt light, like tonnes had just been lifted off of your shoulders. When you pulled away, you cupped his cheeks, and started peppering kisses all over his face, which made him giggle. So adorably you felt your heart swell in your chest.
“Now…” With one final kiss on his lips, you placed your hands on his chest, squishing the soft muscle. “You show me”.
A smirk made its way onto his lips, and after taking one of your hands, he moved it away from his chest to let it sink further underwater, until it met the warm, smooth skin of his length. He left your other hand on his chest, but instead of just letting it rest there, he guided your fingers to one of his nipples so you could gently rub your fingertip against it and play with the jewellery.
“I’ll show you”, he emphasised his words by using his hand to coax your hold around his cock to tighten. Your fingers didn’t even meet as you held him, and the thought, along with the feel, made you feel dizzy with arousal. “Will show you anything. Everything…”
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‘You think this could… fit you?’ Changbin had shyly asked you a couple of weeks ago, when he offered you one of the silver hoops he usually wore on one of his horns. Where he got the idea to do that was beyond you, but it honestly didn’t matter, it made you giddy all the same.
It did fit–as an armlet, at least. It was purely material and maybe even a bit vain, but having this item on you at all times simply made you feel tingly. It made your heart swell in your chest and it had butterflies fluttering in your belly.
It felt significant, in a way. Kind of like… like your own version of a wedding band.
In the past, you had never been excited about being a bride, or about being someone’s wife. But you realised things could change. 
Changbin had certainly changed you. You would’ve never imagined that your death sentence would be the thing to actually help you feel alive, and yet, that was exactly what had happened to you. 
Did you sometimes have bouts of fury and rage because of how unfair everything that you’d gone through had been?
Yes.
Did you want all those officials to die a very painful death for judging you the way they did?
Also yes.
But at least, here, you found your place. You found love.
Because you loved Changbin. Horns and tail and hooves and all. Even with his annoyingly big cock that you knew you’d never be able to fit inside you without tearing you in half, even then, you loved him. Truly. 
It took only a visit from that young man he had encountered months ago for you to fully realise it.
He’d appeared out of nowhere, on a random day. Changbin had put himself between you and the young man, but the boy wasn’t a real threat, he’d come just to ask for help to find something else within the Labyrinth.
It was over supper that he’d talked to you, right there in front of Changbin. 
‘Don’t you want to go back to the surface? I know a way out…’
You could still remember how Changbin’s tail started to thrash anxiously behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He’d just fixed his eyes on the floor, slowly chewing his food. He didn’t interrupt or even attempt to divert the conversation. Back then, at least to you, it felt like he was getting ready to accept whichever decision you took.
‘Why would I go back? This is my home. There’s nothing up there for me’.
And when you’d said it, you truly meant it.
This was your home… but it wasn’t the Labyrinth.
It was all Changbin.
You’d wandered the Labyrinth together for a few days after that, helping that young man look for the mysterious artefact he needed. It’d been an adventure for sure…
When you were back in your cosy den after that little adventure, Changbin had given you the thick hoop, your armlet. You’d gotten so used to wearing it, you sometimes forgot you had it on.
At least, until you caught a glimpse of it in your peripheral vision, like you did just now. Somehow, the reminder of its existence further fed the fire that was burning bright in the pit of your stomach. 
The feel of Changbin’s hands on your hips, gripping you tightly–as tight as he knew your body could handle–made you moan. The feel of him, hard and warm against your folds had your mind all fogged up and hazy, especially when he was under you like this, guiding the movement of your hips to increase the pressure of your centre grinding against his bare length, trapping it between your core and his abdomen.
“Mmm… fuck…” He whined under his breath, staring at the place your bodies connected, at the way your slick cunt dragged against his cock.
You nodded in agreement, rather eagerly, because you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when the way you were essentially humping him felt this incredibly good.
With your hands on his chest, both for support and so you could play with his nipples in just the way he loved so much, you chased that sweet, sweet relief that’d been steadily growing closer to you since you sat on him however long ago. The pressure on your clit was just absolutely perfect like this, especially when he was pushing you down and assisting your own movement.
“Changbin, darling, I’m… fuck, want to…” You could barely speak, but you knew he understood you perfectly, because he had you moving faster, he pushed you down harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Before you knew it, you were trembling with your release. The only thing keeping you from collapsing was Changbin’s tight hold, but you still tried your best to keep moving, to keep providing him with as much pleasure as you could.
With a broken plea of your name, the first of many shots of thick cum spouted from the tip of his cock. The results of his orgasm’s were, of course, proportional to his size. He always seemed to produce bucket-loads of cum whenever he came, drenching his whole torso, and you in the process.
Changbin looked so, so pretty like this. Flushed, whining, bellowing, desperately rutting into you to make the most out of his release. You didn’t care that you were close to the point of oversensitivity, you just wanted to continue seeing him like this for as long as it lasted.
When the final spurt of cum landed on his abdomen, the tight grip he had on your hips loosened. The lack of his support made it so that you simply collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. 
Oh, how fulfilling it was to hear his increased heartbeat against your ear, to feel his warm cum sticking to you…
You both laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of one another and catching your breaths. 
Changbin had to act a bit quickly after coming, though. Otherwise his cock would retreat into its sheath covered in his drying cum, which could not only become a gross mess, but also cause him real, painful problems the next time he got hard.
So as soon as he regained his strength, he was moving, carrying you in his arms and getting you both inside the nearest pond to get cleaned up. 
You always helped him, of course. Just like he helped you.
Getting to bathe each other felt intimate, like a bonding experience, so you enjoyed it. 
You barely spoke to each other during these moments. You just took the time to further enjoy the other’s body in a more profound way. 
It wasn’t until you were out of that pond, dry, in a fresh set of clothes, and huddled together in your cosy nest that he was finally speaking again.
“I really like it when we do it like that…” He mumbled against your hair, softly dragging his fingertips on your back.
You chuckled softly, pressing a soft peck on his collarbone. “Is it better than when you fuck my thighs?”
Changbin inhaled sharply, placing his free hand on your bum. “It’s different. It’s easier to come together this way”. 
You hummed, smiling in amusement at the comment. 
There was silence for a while, but you knew he was awake. If he hadn’t been, the soft caresses on your back would’ve stopped already.
The armlet shone in your peripheral vision, and you were reminded once again that this was your home. That you belonged here.
“Changbin?”
He hummed to let you know he was listening, not stopping the movement of his hands.
“Why didn’t you kill me when you found me wandering the Labyrinth?”
Changbin was quiet for a while, until he nuzzled your hair before he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 
“I recognised your voice”, he replied simply. “You fed my friends. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. They always appreciated it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate it, too”.
You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. “Can you imagine if I’d never spoken in the forest? Or if I never fed the birds? You would’ve eaten me”.
He frowned. “Don’t wanna think about that. Besides, you did do it. Why think about the past like that?”
You smiled at him, just before you pressed a quick peck on his lips.
As you buried your face further in the crook of his neck, and started to feel the pull of sleep on your body, you figured Changbin was right.
There was no point in thinking about the past. No point in dwelling on the what-ifs. The only thing that mattered was the present, and the future you hoped to have with him here, in your home.
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Author’s Note x2: i came into this expecting this story to be nothing but filth and a horny mess, not... whatever this ended up being. it definitely didn’t go the way i thought it was going to go when i had originally read that ask, but, y’know… the little lizard in my brain just does whatever it wants. i’m happy with it, and, if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed it, too.  especial thanks to @notastraykid and @channieskies for reading this before anyone else and for giving me their valuable opinions and suggestions.
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General Masterlist
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nimonabigbang · 1 month ago
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smart, kind, and quite sophisticated
Written by Jagodzianka | @zyrafowe-sny
Art by Luna (she/her) | @lunar-jewels
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He thought she was just a kid. She thought he was a villain. But eventually, they saw each other. And were not alone. or Ballister and Nimona get to know each other in missing moments.
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Content warnings and tags below the cut:
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandoms: Nimona (2023), Nimona (Webcomic)
Relationship: Ballister Blackheart | Ballister Boldheart & Nimona
Characters: Nimona (Nimona), Ballister Blackheart | Ballister Boldheart
Additional Tags: Nimona Big Bang 2024, hope you like freestyle tags, because I do, During Canon, Character Study, POV Alternating, Missing Scene, Slice of Life, albeit during somewhat stressful times, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Let Ballister and Nimona Say Fuck, Alcohol, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, arguably, given the then-centuries old shapeshifter currently tends to present as a minor when human, Drugs, but intended for pain management, Suicidal Thoughts, of the fairly canon-typical variety, discussion of freestyle jazz, Minor Ballister Blackheart | Ballister Boldheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin, but mostly just implied when Nimona is learning to imitate Ambrosius, movieverse but with minor references to Meredith Blitzmeyer, which is why both Nimona fandoms are tagged
Words: 11,536
Chapters: 1/1
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humbledragon669 · 26 days ago
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S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P8 - the Present Day from the "I Was Wrong" dance
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I don’t see any point in beating about the bush, let’s dive straight in – plenty still to cover in this final five minutes (sans credits) of the first episode of season two. The first item in my notes for this section is something we see for just a few frames before Crowley even gets through the door of the bookshop:
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This is not a happy angel. In fact he looks almost tormented, doesn’t he? Sitting there, just staring into space. Goodness knows what’s going through his head at this point, but I don’t think he’s thinking about whatever it was he had intended to do when he sat down behind his desk. And whatever it is, it looks like he’s pretty deep in thought given his jump-scare reaction when the door opens. Speaking of which, the door has either been left unlocked or Crowley has miracled it open, because there is no sound of a door rattling or key turning in the lock before he comes striding into the shop. Either of those possibilities has some lovely subtext – the former would suggest Aziraphale has deliberately left it open knowing that Crowley is going to come back (don’t forget, it’s now full dark outside, so it’s likely way past closing time), the latter suggests that Crowley knows he would have locked up and wants his entrance into the shop to be dramatic. I lean towards the former, but that’s largely due to the lack of evidence to support the latter.
I’m going to state the obvious at this point. I absolutely love the scene that follows. I think it’s probably a fandom favourite. The chemistry between this pair is bang on, the comedy timing is perfect, and we get a couple of new Aziracrow history facts. Not to mention we get to see Crowley do a little dance (which was unspeakably surprising in the first watch – I think I actually squealed). And I was in love with this scene before the chemistry, before the dance, before Crowley takes off his glasses, even before Aziraphale puts on his glasses and pretends to be busy. Here’s the moment I fell in love with this scene:
I’m sure you won’t be surprised to read that it was the soundtrack that initially swept me off my feet here. That moaning guitar noise gets me weak at the knees every single time. But it doesn’t really stop there for the genius score writing – check out the beginning of the next phrase with the plucked strings. Classic music-writing device to convey comedy, and I think the two are perfectly placed – the guitar slides in as Crowley slithers his way back into the shop, the strings make their star entrance as we see Aziraphale trying to make the impression that he’s busy, not at all thinking about the argument he’s had with Crowley and wondering when he’s going to come back, thank-you-very-much.
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I seriously adore this movement he makes for two reasons. Firstly because he has to readjust his entire posture and position to settle into the place that would be necessary to actually work at his desk. Look how far he has to shift his butt forward to lean over the desk properly! The second reason I love this is because Crowley is already stood right in front of him, looking at him. He would have seen the entire thing. It’s so blatantly obvious that this is an act, not just for us as an audience but for Crowley too.
Personal side note: I am actually sitting here giggling at everything as I rewatch tiny bits of this scene whilst I write this. I just can’t help it. Did I mention I love this scene? Right, back to it…
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Let’s make it very clear what this dramatic gesture (complete with comedic string glissando to really highlight the movement) is shall we? We know that Crowley has been in Aziraphale’s presence without his sunglasses on countless occasions. We also know that he only really removes his sunglasses when he’s comfortable in his surroundings and his company (at least in the AD years). I can’t imagine he is comfortable with either of those things at this present moment at time, considering that he knows he’s in trouble. I don’t think I’d be alone in thinking that he does this at this particular moment in time to show Aziraphale that he’s making himself vulnerable for the angel. He has nowhere to hide without those glasses – he’s completely exposed. Which is also why I think he makes a big show of it: it’s actually a grand (somewhat melodramatic) gesture – “look at what I’m doing for you, so you’ll know how earnest I’m being”. This complicated subtext really demonstrates the reason I love this scene so much – there are just so many layers in it.
Whatever I think of Crowley’s “grand gesture”, Aziraphale ain’t buying it. I’m sure that stubborn angel saw what Crowley has done, but it’s just met with a clearing of the throat and a fake “that’s interesting” noise as he reads his little index cards. But that little noise really says something else to me – it’s a sort of “is that all you got?”. The message is pretty clear to everyone – this angel is still pretty pissed.
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The set of Crowley’s jaw in this little shot is quite something, isn’t it?! I love the way he’s gone from a cautious-yet-dramatic entrance to try and establish the lay of the land to simply throwing his sunglasses on the table and ringing a bell to announce his arrival. It’s almost like he thinks he really has to emphasise that he’s taken off his glasses, you know, just in case Aziraphale hadn’t noticed. And the “I’m back” line? On the surface it’s stating the obvious, but let’s not forget why the angel had asked him to come to the bookshop in the first place – to take his place as the rescuer. This is him announcing he’s taking up the mantle again, and don’t you just love that he thinks that will be enough to let him get away without having to apologise? Gotta love him for trying I suppose.
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There is a shot of Aziraphale in the Bentley that we’ll see in episode 3 that I have seen described as being the best demonstration of the angel in full bitch mode. I disagree – I think this moment takes it. This is pure bitchy rage and sarcasm at its absolute best. And underneath the snark and the stubborn refusal to look at Crowley to acknowledge that he has laid himself bare, there’s a clear message: “it’s not enough”. Crowley’s groan is evidence that for once he hasn’t missed his cue – as much as he might be hoping to get away without making an apology, he knows that’s probably not going to happen. I say probably because he tries to get out of it again:
CROWLEY: You want a big “I think I said the wrong thing” sort of apology, or can we take that as said?
I find the choice of words here interesting. Notice he doesn’t say “I did the wrong thing” or even “I was wrong”. It feels to me like there’s an element of “I’m sorry you feel that way” about, like he’s not really sorry for saying those things, but bitter about their consequences. And let’s not forget that he not only said a lot of things that Aziraphale got upset with, but reneging on the arrangement of him being the rescuer, leaving the angel to deal with the situation alone, likely causes more anger than the words that were said. He also says “I think” before the rest of the phrase (suggesting he really doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong), not to mention that this whole sentence is actually just a last-ditch attempt to get out of the apology. It’s not really any surprise that Aziraphale isn’t satisfied with this lame excuse for an olive branch.
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Did I say that little sarcastic line from earlier was Aziraphale’s bitchiest moment? My bad. This. This is it here. Man, if words could kill, these would do it. And note that Crowley still doesn’t actually take responsibility for his actions, choosing instead to try and placate his angel by telling him he was right instead.
I think we’re about to find out what it is that Aziraphale was thinking about whilst he was staring into space at the beginning of the scene.
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There it is – he was never going to take anything less, was he? There is so much to unpack here too.
AZIRAPHALE: I want a proper apology- CROWLEY: No.
That’s interesting – Crowley knew exactly what was coming before Aziraphale actually asked for it. Which makes it clear that this “proper apology” is something that has been referred to before. Next up:
AZIRAPHALE: -with the little dance. CROWLEY: I don’t do the dance.
Curiouser and curiouser… So Crowley has never done this dance before. Hold your horses though, because here comes a piece of Aziracrow lore that everyone is dying to know more about. According to Aziraphale, he’s performed this dance at least three times before. I say at least because it actually sounds like he’s going to keep going with that list (if I was a betting person, I’d say the last of those dates might have been after Crowley delivered the Antichrist to the nunnery). He’s also furious about it.
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And whatever those dances were for, the reason(s) was significant enough for the dates to be carved into Aziraphale’s memory (granted two of the three tie up with known meetings between the two of them, and I know we’re all pretty sure that 1941 is going to turn out to have been meaningful for other reasons). I have my own theory about the reason behind the dances, which I have written a fanfic about. Feel free to read it here if you like, just know that it’s a WIP at the moment (still!) until I get to the 1941 minisode in this season (which, at this rate, is going to be a little while).
It’s at this point I want to pick up on how we as a fandom refer to what’s about to happen. I think I’ve seen it mostly called the “Apology Dance” - I have in fact referred to it by that name almost every time I’ve talked about it. However, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale actually call it that. Crowley simply refers to it as “the dance”, whilst Aziraphale calls it by three names - “a proper apology”, the “little dance”, or the “I-was-wrong dance”. I don’t think it’s hugely important, and I think that, unfortunately, the adopted name may have come about due to a reference made to by the creator. I think there might be something interesting in the fact that it isn’t actually called an “apology dance”, by either of its benefactors, on a linguistic level, but that’s not for here. There are some details about the linguistics used for the words that go along with the dance that I’d like to take a brief look at in just a moment. For now let’s just soak up in the silent sass we see Aziraphale gives Crowley to signal that he’s ready for the performance:
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I mean, could this angel be more ready to revel in Crowley’s humiliation? The head tilt. The eyebrow raise. Such perfect bitch-delivery. Something that the 3-second long pause we see before the performance actually begins would suggest that the demon is well aware of, and that he’s still silently begging not to have to go through with the whole thing. Let’s get back to those “lyrics”.
CROWLEY: You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right.
There are a couple of things I find interesting about this set of words, the first being the fact that there isn’t actually an apology anywhere in them. The other requires remembering that this dance has only been previously been performed by Aziraphale for Crowley, which means that these words were devised to appease the demon. What we don’t know at this point is who devised them in the first place. I do hope that we’ll get some closure about this whole thing in season’t 3, but I just don’t know if there will be enough time in 90 minutes to cover the topic.
I am not ignoring the fact that the final pose of the dance looks distinctly like Crowley has extended his wings, I just feel like it’s probably so obvious I might be insulting people by pointing it out. What I do want to give credit to is the depth David has gotten out of that ice skater/one-legged squat pose. Honestly, I do yoga and a squats work out on a regular basis, and that sort of depth (without falling over) is not even close to being within my reach.
Last thing to say about the dance itself, or rather the music that goes along with it. This little tune took me a long time to identify, and it nearly drive me nuts, but I did get there in the end. I think it’s “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play”. Or it could just be a sequence of descending minor thirds, because I can’t see how the lyrics or history of that song links to anything about GO. Answers on a postcard.
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Jeez, Aziraphale, could you thirst any harder? (Yes, it’s coming up in the next episode…) It doesn’t look like Crowley really notices, though he does understand that consent has now been given for him to resume his role as rescuer, closing the distance (very quickly) between them. He also returns to using collective pronouns instantly:
CROWLEY: We need to keep him here and hide him.
Aziraphale doesn’t notice until the demon uses the word “together”, and even then it comes as a bit of a surprise. (Side note: there appears to be a fire alarm going off somewhere in the background at this point. Not as obvious as the helicopter I could hear earlier on in the scene I suppose…) And despite the fact that Crowley is trying to do his thing (rescuing), he’s still clearly very, VERY worried about the plan - we’ve gone into full hand-wringing, freak-out-face mode:
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It only really occurred to me what this look of intense worry might have been whilst I was doing this write up. I’m going to try and be as succinct as I can here, but I don’t know if I can word it very precisely. So. It’s only at this point that the suggestion of the pair of them doing half a miracle is raised, by Aziraphale. Which means that, despite Crowley using collective pronouns and saying that they were going to do it together, what he actually meant was that Aziraphale could do a miracle. And what Aziraphale meant when he said that he couldn’t do it because Heaven would notice even the smallest miracle was that he a) interpreted Crowley’s plan in that same way in the first place and b) was subtextually saying that actually the demon should do the miracle himself. Crowley’s defence that he doesn’t want Hell’s attention would suggest that he in turn understood what was being asked. Furthermore, Crowley’s reaction to Aziraphale’s suggestion now would also back up that idea that he wasn’t actually suggesting that they do a joint miracle in the first place, because it’s clear that this is a new idea for him. Phew, that was a lot of words to say that their exactlys weren’t exactly the same exactlys, but I felt like I had to get it out of my head. And of course it would be remiss of me to point out how thrilled Aziraphale is at getting Crowley’s approval, but I do feel like that’s been discussed at length by many other people already, so instead I’ll just leave this here:
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It seems like such a long time since I talked about anybody other than Crowley or Aziraphale, and it feels even longer since I talked about Gabriel/Jim, and about how he does seem to understand some social cues. Well, here he is, clearly interpreting Crowley’s dislike of him with indignation:
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He even manages a little sass of his own when he has to repeat his adopted name to Crowley. He softens quickly enough though, letting himself be led into the chair, which brings me to my next observation. The chair appears to have been placed directly over the (inactive) seal that marks the portal to Heaven.
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Obviously there’s a rug over it now, but I’m pretty sure that’s the right spot. Why there? There are any number of places that Crowley could have put that chair. He could even just have left it where it was. Does he even know what he’s done? I don’t think we’ve ever seen him in the bookshop with it uncovered or activated, so perhaps not, but it feels like a pretty big coincidence if that’s the case. I know we all love the idea that the reason the miracle that’s about to be performed is so strong because it was done by both of them, but I do also wonder if the placing of the chair has anything to do with it.
I find it interesting that Crowley is only really worried about attracting Heaven’s attention at this point. He doesn’t mention Hell in this little speech at all, and Aziraphale doesn’t offer his own counter-speech to Crowley. The demon does in fact seem to be doing his absolute best to reign the angel in as much as possible, something which Aziraphale doesn’t dispute or bicker over. There’s something else - and it’s to do with the miracle noise used here:
Oh, wait. That’s not the miracle noise from this scene, is it? It’s the miracle noise from Aziraphale vanishing the soldier in the last episode of season 1. This is actually the miracle noise from the season 2 scene:
Yeah… they’re the same (if you're not convinced, try listening through headphones - I'm not sure the first component comes through in the first clip properly on speakers). There are a number of possibilities for this. Firstly, and this is something I have been toying with more and more as the season has gone one, that the noise isn’t actually related to the caster of the miracle, but the caster’s intentions (good vs. bad). This would work for this scenario, as the intentions in both scenes aren’t driven by morality but by need. The second possibility is that the sound contents aren’t actually relevant to anything other than to signify that a miracle has happened. I don’t buy this - this show is far too heavy on the hidden details for that to be a thing as far as I’m concerned, but even if that is the case, that will also become important in time. Thirdly, is it possible that Crowley didn’t actually didn’t do anything except move his hand down here? That would explain why he was so focussed on telling Aziraphale not to overdo it, whilst simultaneously avoiding making assurances that he would do the same. We never see Hell tracing anything back to Crowley either, which sort of makes sense because Gabriel is one of theirs, but also doesn’t make sense because Beelzebub has made it very clear that she’s also looking for the lost archangel, and that she believes Crowley has knowledge about it. There’s also something else to consider, which you can see here:
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Now obviously we don’t really have anything to compare this to - this is the first time we’ve seen some sort of barrier formed by ethereal/occult intervention (their words, not mine). That said, it looks to me like all those little highlights that run through the barrier are gold, which is very definitely part of the Heavenly colour scheme (see the outfit Crowley chooses to manifest for his visit to Heaven). There are no other colours here at all. One last thing to think about:
CROWLEY: That was a Class A surreptitious half-a-miracle.
Huh. Not two half-a-miracles. Just one. Singular. Which would imply that only one of them did what they had agreed to do, and only Crowley would know that, because in this theory, he’s the only one of them that hasn’t carried out his part of the deal. I have no idea why this would be, or the motivations behind it, but I definitely think it’s something to chew on. Speaking of things to chew on, I can’t stop wondering why Aziraphale looks like he’s about to give Crowley a talking-to after he says that he’s not the archangel’s friend.
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No idea what that bothers me so much. Partly because of how cheerfully he’s just spoken to Jim I think, that it’s such a turn-around, but I can’t really pin it down.
There’s one tiny thing I want to pick up before I (finally) sign off on this episode. It’s the way that Michael refers to Aziraphale.
MICHAEL: There’s a former angel in this up to his bookshop-owning neck.
Interesting. As far as I was concerned, Aziraphale was very much still an angel. He might not officially work for Heaven anymore but that doesn’t negate the nature of his being. That’s a little like saying that a retired racehorse isn’t a horse any longer. Maybe it’s supposed to reflect how Heaven thinks of him now, but I find it an interesting choice of words nonetheless. More to chew on.
Well I don’t know about you, but that last couple of minutes gave me a lot of things to think about! This episode has felt somewhat like a marathon compared to those in season 1, but I think the likelihood is that the rest of the season (Final 15 excluded) should be an easier affair. If nothing else, the next couple of episodes should break down a little easier given the minisode format that was employed. Congratulations if you made it this far with me - this one has been a long one! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊
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