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yeoslattes · 9 months ago

Text

Happy Ending Status: Pending

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairings: Underground Artist!Mingi x fem!reader

Summary: Mingi was not what your family and friends wanted for you. Reality was becoming too real and maybe they were right but you struggled to leave him.

Songs to listen to: Tunnel-Song Mingi, Star Shopping-Lil Peep, Romantic Homicide-D4vd

Warnings: TW! Toxic relationship tendencies, toxic Mingi, smut, lots of crying, slight slow burn, weed use, financial issuesMingi is pretty bad to her at the beginning, he's lowkey a bum, Mingi yells at her once, simp!Mingi, one of his friends makes a bad comment abt reader, Wooyoung is an asshole, reader is a good girl, he's possessive of her, soft Dom!Mingi, oral m receiving, big dick Mingi (lets be real), gagging, lots of spit, slight throat fucking, Mingi holds her down a couple of times, choking, unprotected sex asf, creampie, Mingi cries after sex, use of slut like once, praising

A/N: *big sigh* something about the plot was so hard to write for me lol. I had mentioned that I didn't want to make Mingi too toxic but in the editing process it was almost inevitable so I had to do what I had to do to make it work. He's not scary, he's just a big simp in this lmao. I added songs as well, Star Shopping is what inspired me and Tunnel is what I imagine Mingi looking like in this, Romantic Homicide is for the vibes. Also to clear up any confusion, she's in college bc her parents pay for it aside from that she gets no allowance from them, since she wanted to move with Mingi so bad her parents let her fend for herself (stupid girl). I hope you Pookies enjoy, as always thank you for all the love mwah <3

The bass boomed through the entire establishment. The floor shook, soundwaves rolling up your body. A small smile plays at your lips at the sight of your boyfriend performing on stage. Your eyes curiously watched the girls in the front row who were ready to risk it all for Song Mingi.

The song comes to an end and people cheered loudly, you clap for your boyfriend as he comes off stage pressing a kiss against your lips. “I have some business to deal with first baby, I’ll be back soon.” You nod and clutch the jacket draped over your arms, suddenly feeling exposed now that Mingi had left you.

You take a seat, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, soon enough Mingi comes back looking more pissed than ever. His eyebrows are drawn together with a stoic expression replacing his usual smile. Your face falls, “hey what’s going on?” You ask worriedly, placing a hand on his arm. He shakes his head, “he’s not paying me.” He grumbles, you feel your heart sink. “Mingi that’s not okay-“ you begin, but he ignores you, instead walking towards Yunho and Hongjoong who were standing beside the stage.

Your lips subconsciously fall into a pout, trailing after him. You knew how Mingi was when he was upset and the fact that he was with friends didn’t help either; you hated who he became when he was around them. Walking a couple steps behind them and excusing yourself as you walked through the crowd, you watched as Yunho whispered something in Mingi’s ear. Your boyfriend nods and turns to look at you. “I’ll be right back babe.” He says not even giving you time to respond. You stand alone for a second time tonight. You huff plopping down on one of the booth seats.

You wait and wait, it had been almost 25 minutes since Mingi had left. Your eyes skimmed the crowd in search of him with no luck. He’d blown you off, when you figured he really wasn’t coming back you got up and started looking for him. Your heart felt like it was hanging by the finest thread, one minimal tug and it’d be gone. You spent the majority of your night pushing through sweaty bodies looking for your missing boyfriend.

Everyone sported leather, dark eyeliner, piercings, while the darkest color on your outfit was the pleated black skirt and black tights you had worn, your cashmere sweater being no fit to the aesthetic. Your hands were starting to shake, and your breathing became slightly labored as you continued to skim the club for a tall Mingi.

People had started to notice you, giving you weird looks as you kept making rounds around the club. Your mind began to race, the more you looked the more you felt like the crowd was close to swallowing you up. You spot the exit and make a beeline for it, your tears already falling freely down your cheeks. “E-excuse me.” You mumbled pushing through a couple, the girl looked at you, her eyebrow piercing moving up as she cocked her brow up at your state. Stepping out into the fresh air you finally felt like you could breathe.

***

Your white sneakers heavily hit the ground, dirty water soaking the mid rise crew socks you wore from all the puddles you had stepped in but you didn’t care. You continued your journey back to yours and Mingi’s apartment. You quickly went up the stairs to the second floor, ducking your head as you passed your creepy neighbor who’s eyes never left your shivering frame. You unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind you with a loud sigh. The wooden door creaked under your weight as you rested against it. You feel a knot forming in your throat and you can't help the sob that rips through you. Your legs give out and you melt down into a puddle of tears. Your hand clutches your phone tightly, looking at the absurd amount of times you had dialed Mingi, each one going straight to voicemail.

You numbly pick yourself up off the floor and go into the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror you almost feel bad for yourself; but this was the life you had chosen. Your hair is frizzed up and your makeup is basically gone. You begin reflecting on what your life had become, the voices of your parents and friends echoed through your head, and you were truly starting to believe that you should've listened to them. After standing your ground against them for so long and always defending Mingi, things were not what they seemed anymore, nothing like the delusions you had put in your head. And so now here you were, heart hanging by a thread as you desperately waited for your boyfriend to come home; no clue on his whereabouts or who he was with aside from his friends.

***

You had met Mingi freshman year of university, you were enamoured with who he was, with the way he dressed, all dark and mysterious yet sweet and cunning. Mingi knew right away he wasn’t someone your family particularly wanted for you, not as a friend and much less as a boyfriend. They hated Mingi’s lifestyle and were confused on how you could be so enthralled with someone like him. Someone who barely made it in college, who was obsessed with making it big in the music industry and would rather focus on that than a promising career. However, the way he spoke about his passion for music made you believe in him and for a second you did, until a couple months turned into a year, and a year turned into 2 and now at almost 3 years barely anything had changed. You convinced yourself it was fine, but reality was catching up to you quickly.

Truth was, you and Mingi were broke, you could barely afford rent and food was scarce majority of the time. Frugal wasn’t even the word to describe how tight you two were with money. You hated this life, coming from a well off family, you had never struggled with money this way. You never minded working to earn your money, but even while working it still was not enough. With your last required courses to graduate, you had to cut back on your hours, leaving only Mingi working full time. The little amount of money he made, he’d spend on music equipment and recording studio fees that he clearly couldn't afford. At some point the little amount of money you had saved up, you had to start using to buy groceries and home essentials. By the time you rechecked your savings you had nothing.

***

Your body cried for sleep, the longer you tried to stay awake the more your body fought against you that eventually you fell asleep on the couch. Around 2:30 in the morning, the front door unlocks and in walks Mingi, quietly looking around for you. When he doesn’t hear any noise he pads further into the room. He’s startled when he spots your sleeping form on the couch. Clearly you had been waiting for him, and he felt terribly bad that he had blown you off at some random club that you had never been to. Mingi was good at being impulsive and acting on his emotions rather than thinking logically. Of course he was pissed that the gig host had ripped him off but that didn’t mean had the right to ditch you; and only now that his cloudy head was clearing up did he realize that.

He sighs and leans over the back of the couch, resting a hand on your arm. He shakes you slightly, slowly you rise from your slumber. You squint, waiting for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person in front of you. When you realize it’s Mingi you fly off the couch, backing away from him. “Ba-” He starts, “It’s almost 3am and now you wanna ‘baby’ me?” He straightens up and throws his head back in annoyance, knowing exactly where this was going. “I’m tired, I don't want to do this right now.” He grumbles walking towards the bedroom.

Sadness fills you at his dismissive behavior; there's no way he doesn’t care, you thought. Your lips contort into a frown, “Mingi…what is wrong with you?” You say quietly, the knot returning to your throat. You trail after him once again like a lost puppy. He shakes his head, “nothing princess.” But you didn’t believe him. He pulls his shirt off and looks at your small frame lingering by the door. He takes in your disheveled appearance and his gaze softens. “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you there.” He says, his heart feeling heavy at your sadness. You had nothing to do with how his gigs went, therefore, you should be the last person he should be getting mad at. When you sniffle slightly and look down he walks over to you, his large frame engulfing you completely. You inhale the smell of weed and faded cologne in, feeling yourself get drunk off him; and just like that things were okay again for the time being.

***

Not even a week later you and Mingi were caught in a screaming match. “It’s not my fault these places don't pay me.” He argues.” You stared at him hard, feeling your eyes twitch from pure anger. “Actually it is your fault, cause you keep agreeing like a dumbass not knowing what you’re getting into. And you look even dumber buying more recording equipment that we clearly cannot afford.” This time you argued over the fact that he hadn’t gotten paid yet again, while he kept spending money on useless equipment. “Well it is my money.” Mingi retorts desperately trying to find a way to put this argument to bed. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, you felt completely hopeless. “Well if it's your money then you find a way to pay for this apartment, and do everything yourself because I am leaving.”

In full panic, anger and everything in between you stormed into your shared room. You pull a pink duffle bag that your parents had gifted you and begin stuffing all the clothes and belongings you could fit. You run back into the kitchen and grab a trash bag to throw makeup, jewelry and shoes; everything else that couldn’t fit into the straining duffle bag.

You aggressively wipe your tears, pausing when you spot Mingi blocking the doorway. “Where are you going?” He asks, his eyes slightly wide, “I don’t want to be here anymore” You mumbled, attempting to zip up the bag that was clearly too over filled. He shakes his head, panic rising within him, he comes close to you and you step back. He shakes his head rapidly, “You’re not leaving me!” He screams, making you flinch. His breathing is heavy, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, okay, you’re right.” He begs, big hands reaching for yours but you pull back.

“Mingi…stop it, I’m tired of the excuses okay? I‘m tired.” You say quietly. You eyes can’t meet his, scared that you were going to change your mind. “I just don’t see us going anywhere anymore…” His brows furrow at your words, “what are you talking about.” He whimpers,

“Stop it!” You yell, he takes a step back startled at your loudness. “Stop acting like you don’t see how shitty our lives are. I need you to get your shit together please.” You wipe the tears that are still running down your cheeks, “Be realistic for once Mingi.” You grab your duffel to which Mingi grips onto the traps as well, blocking you off from the door. “Let go.” You grit, yanking the bag from his grip. He stumbles back slightly. He watches you leave, eyesight blurry from the salty liquid, “you’ll be b-back.” He chokes up. But he actually wasn’t sure about that anymore.

Mingi fell in love with you from the second he saw you, you were just so…you. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe. He always knew the thing he liked the most about you two as a pair was the fact that you were so opposite. He had tattooed his hands and neck with some of the prettiest tattoos you had ever seen. He always wore rings that decorated his big hands all pretty, and of course the staple that was his black polish.

You on the other hand were so clean for lack of a better word. The colors you wore were always as bright as the sky on a sunny day, in contrast to Mingi’s daily color palette. You were like a breath of fresh air, and he wanted you, he craved you. Eventually he got you, the road was rough with your parent’s disapproval and what not, but you two persevered; he got you to move in with him and his plans on making it big in the music industry were definitely going, except he was getting nowhere; it was like a journey with no end.

Mingi felt that no matter what he tried, however he tried it, there was always something in the way. He was paying for studio sessions, recording song after song to release and perform at gigs, and even though he spent loads of money on those studio fees he hoped for the day that he wouldn't have to worry about money anymore. But the process was easier said than done because he knew how tired you were of him not being able to give it a rest. Aside from all of that and being aware of your feelings he always thought you’d stick around for a bit longer for him to show you he could do it.

He saw the way he had drained the life out of you, your once glowy skin had been replaced by dullness. Your once vibrant eyes had turned sad accompanied by dark circles and bags. He had ruined you.

***

Today marks 1 month since you left. Mingi had been rotting away in his apartment, only leaving the house to work, then coming back, showering, eating whatever he could find and going to bed. He had lost count of how many times he had called and texted you. But it seemed that you had blocked him. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t spoken to his friends or gone out in a while. He’d cut himself off completely. “Get your shit together.” Your words echoed, your pretty face stained with tears as you looked up with hurt in your eyes ingrained in his brain.

Mingi laid on the couch, eyes dazed off into space from the blunt he had smoked. When all of a sudden…“Mingi?” A voice called faintly in his head, “Jesus Mingi.” The voice said again except this time he felt hands shake him. He looked at his friend who removed him from the daydream.

“What the hell is going on man? I’ve been trying to reach you.” Yunho said desperately, “I thought you were dead.” The panicked friend said, looking around with wide eyes at the mess in the apartment. “She- she left.” Mingi mumbles, sticking his face into his hands. Yunho’s face softens, “oh-.” Had he known, he would have approached him in a more gentle manner.

“I’m sorry Mingi.” It’s the only thing that comes to mind. Awkward silence fills the air, Yunho having no idea what else to say. “How’s it going?” Mingi suddenly asks. Yunho shrugs, “some group that played frequently at Cyberpunk Club got a record deal a couple weeks back. You’ve missed a lot man.” At Yunho’s words, Mingi’s heart drops, of course, he thought. It would never be him, and now that you were gone it didn’t matter to him anymore; he’d given up.

Mingi sniffles slightly, standing up and adjusting his dark jeans, “I have work in an hour so imma head out now.” He didn’t mean to be dismissive but he couldn’t bear thinking about his losses right now. The dark haired man stands up, a perplexed look on his face. “Oh right, well there’s a party tonight let me know if you’ll be there. It could be good, you know, to get out of the house for a while.” Yunho wears a tight lipped smile searching Mingi’s face for some type of life or excitement but he gets nothing. “Yeah I’ll let you know.” Yunho waves goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him leaving Mingi with his thoughts again. He grabs his phone and dials you again, your call has been forwarded to automated vo- he hangs up, annoyance rising up within him. It was pointless now, you weren’t going to speak to him ever again, he accepted defeat and grabbed the small backpack he always carried to work and headed over.

The strip mall was busy, no surprise as it was only Saturday. The customers came in periodic waves, right now Mingi sat in boredom as a single customer sat in the shop sipping on her smoothie. Mingi rests his chin in the palm of his hand, scrolling through your instagram. You may have blocked his number but you had forgotten him on social media. In that moment he’s about to message you when suddenly a loud cackle catches his attention. He looks up expecting to see a random person walking by, but his heart drops when he spots you. As always you were dressed in light colors, you looked good, you looked better. His heart sinks lower, bile rising up his throat the longer you lingered outside with your group of friends.

Your glow had returned, you looked so alive and happy; he was selfish so in a way he hated that. This was his chance to speak to you, since you had been neglecting him for so long now, not even bothering to come by to pick up some of the stuff you had left behind. He hops off the stool, smoothening down the apron he wore. He steps outside, the door opening catching your attention, your face falls at the slightly disheveled state of your once lover.

Your friends all fall silent, eyes drifting between Mingi and you. “Um, I’ll catch up to you guys, give me a sec.” You say, the closest girl standing to you, places her hand on your forearm. “Hey ar-” she starts but you wave her off, “it’s okay, I’ll catch up.” You say plastering a smile. You watch as your friends walk away, when there’s decent distance between you and them you turn to Mingi.

“Mingi-.” You looked up at him with big eyes, a wave of sadness overcoming you. “Hey, glad to know you’re doing okay. Also didn’t know you had guards now.” He says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding aggressive but it does. Surprise flashes in your face momentarily at his harsh tone, but could you blame him?

Deciding you didn’t want to deal with this you turn around to walk away but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your bicep. “Wait, I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge.” He apologizes, you nod silently, waiting for him to continue.

“I just want to talk about…us.” Mingi pleads with big eyes, you pause for a moment. Your eyes linger on the clear lid of your coffee cup, when you don’t say anything Mingi proceeds. “I just wish you’d given me a chance to talk it out with you, but you just upped and left.” He sounds slightly irritated, and that’s when you crack, “no disrespect Mingi, but that’s very audacious of you. Every single argument or discussion we've had about this you have told me the same thing yet you don’t bother to change it. My patience ran thin.”

Mingi tongues his cheek, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking out into the parking lot; deep down he knew you were right. He stays silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air, “I just want you back, we can work on it together.” You shake your head, when he sees you take a step back his hands reach out for you again, hovering above your shoulders, never quite making contact, “don’t leave please.” He begged, people walking by turned to look at the exchange. “Mingi.” You whisper yell looking around slightly embarrassed at the unnecessary attention. “Can we not do this?”

“Come over so we can talk please. At least give me that and I won’t bother you again.” He promises, but you and him both knew it was a lie. “No matter how much I want to get back with you, I won’t until you get your shit together.” You remind him, “and about me coming over…I don’t know.” Mingi frowns at your words, “do you have someone else already is that it?” You’re shocked at the way he jumps to conclusions. “Mingi that is not it, it’s just…kind of weird if we are trying to get over each other.” He rolls his eyes, “speak for yourself, but I’m not trying to get over you. I won’t stop until I get you alone at least one more time. There’s so much we need to talk about.” You wanted to stand on business but for some reason he always had you giving in. You toss your head back, a slight groan ripping from your throat. You nod your head ‘yes’, swallowing hard and meeting his eyes, “okay.” Your voice is airy from slight nerves.

He watches your back as you walk away from him once more; except this time under different circumstances. When he steps back into the smoothie shop, his face drops at the scowl his manager gives him and the long line of customers waiting for their order to be taken. “Glad to know you resolve your relationship problems while on the clock.” The stubby man says to him.

After his shift Mingi flops on his bed, he closes his eyes, the clear picture of your face behind his eyelids, and he smiles sheepishly. You two had left it that you’d be the one letting him know when you were free given your tight schedule. Mixed in with his happiness is a tinge of anger and fear. Anger because suddenly you didn’t have time for him and fear because he didn’t want you seeing anyone else, you could’ve been lying about that for all he knew. He whips his phone out when it vibrates, hoping it’d be you but it’s Yunho telling him to come to the party. He dials your number for a second time that day and when it goes straight to voicemail the slight happiness he felt fades away. Why hadn’t you unblocked him? He wonders. His mind races, desperately looking for reasons to feel better but when nothing comes to mind he gets up abruptly and changes out of his work clothes and into a casual outfit.

***

Now here was Mingi at a random house party, a girl on one side of him as he conversed with Wooyoung Yunho, and Hongjoong. “I heard your ex girl moved into a nice ass apartment in the city.” Wooyoung says, peeling a pistachio and tossing it in his mouth. He looks at Mingi waiting for him to say something but he keeps his reaction bottled in, she didn’t mention that, he thinks. Yunho slaps Wooyoung’s arm, bringing a hand under his chin and waving it, signaling Wooyoung to cut it out. “Sensitive topic I see,” Yunho rolls his eyes as the shorter man keeps nagging on. “Nah it doesn’t matter.” Mingi suddenly says, one of his hands traveling further down to rest on the random girl's waist. Mingi felt disappointed in himself, angry that the girl next to him wasn’t you. But since you had yet to unblock him, he figured you wouldn’t anyway and said a big fuck it to the universe and got himself a temporary distraction.

Wooyoung smirks, “yeah it’s probably daddy’s money.” He says, Mingi chuckles, sipping on his beer, “definitely daddy’s money.” Mingi disses; Yunho looks at him with a confused expression, this was the same man that was crying over you a couple hours ago.

“Crazy you were hitting that Mingi, should’ve kept her around if she has big bucks like that.” At Wooyoung’s words, Mingi’s face drops, “you better fucking watch it.” He points a finger at the dark haired man. “Who gives a shit man you’re not with her anymore.” He presses on, Mingi stands up and leaves. Yunho shakes his head at Wooyoung. “Shut the fuck up rat, you always ruin everything.” He spits, Wooyoung chuckles, sinking into the worn down couch sipping on his beer, clearly satisfied at the reaction.

Mingi walks home not taking a second longer to process what was said at the party. He felt icky at the fact that he had even gone. He hated the way they spoke about you, if only they knew how he truly felt for you maybe they wouldn’t have said that. To him you were more than a gorgeous face, more than sex more than anything physical; you were the love of his life.

***

A couple of days after the encounter with Mingi at the mall, you sat on your couch, phone in hand, contemplating whether you wanted to call him or not. You knew how Mingi was, it was clear he was desperate and since you had taken a while to reach out to him the poor guy was losing it. In all honesty you were afraid that talking to him again would have you going back and history would repeat itself. After breaking up with him the first couple of weeks sucked. You stayed in bed all day, dazed off in class and took multiple breaks during your lectures to cry in the bathroom. You missed him so much, and a month later you still did, but you were better; like a heavy load was lifted off your shoulders. You hated that this was the reality you had to face, no matter how much you craved him and wanted him back, it was not ideal.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, “I just have to do it.” You whispered, hyping yourself up. Here’s my address, just let the front desk person you’re here to see me, they’ll let you through. See you at 5. You pressed send, hands shaking slightly. You felt your lunch coming back up, a pit forming within you. You took a shower, dressed in something cute and casual, why were you getting ready? You had no idea, actually you did, you just liked lying to yourself.

“Good afternoon miss, Song Mingi is here to see you.” The front desk person said into the phone, “that’s okay let him through.” You reply, hanging up and wiping your clammy hands on your pants.

Pounding on your door makes you jump slightly. When you pull the door open Mingi stands there. “Oh hey.” You greet in a breathy tone trying your best to be casual, you pull the door open wider. He steps through, immediately looking around at your apartment that was nowhere near close to what your shared space looked like. “Nice place.” He says admiring the art decorating the walls, and gawking at the view into the city.

While he was busy with that you took a second to drink him. As always he was dressed in dark colors, you could tell he had messily applied some eyeliner and shadow on his eyes, adding to the grunge look he sported. He looked extremely good, and you wanted to slap yourself. “Thank you, my parents helped me out.” You locked the door and followed him further into the living room area. “Okay Mingi, I don’t mean to sound hasty but why are you truly here?” You looked at him curiously, interested in what he had to say and praying it wasn’t the same bull crap he’d said many times before. “I want you back.” He said boldly, “Min-.” He suddenly stands up, looming over your sitting form, your eyes go wide with surprise, “no! You don’t understand how much I need you in my life. I’ve been fucking miserable since you left. You got me reflecting on my entire fucking existence. Trying to figure out what I can do to fix this. I’m in love with you, you know that already, but I’m convinced you’re the love of my life and I'd be willing to give up my music if that means I get to have you back.” You sat there speechless, your legs and arms completely numb feeling like you weren't allowed to move. The man who always felt sheepish speaking his emotions to you was suddenly boasting in your living room about how you were the love of his life and you didn’t know what to do. He stares at you with puppy eyes, waiting for you to say something, his face falling at your extended silence. You stand up to face him, your soft hands coming up to his flushed cheeks. You watch him melt into your touch, “I know that right now I’m not really worth it. But please let me show you.” He opens his eyes back up, his big brown orbs boring into yours.

Your teeth sink into your pink lips and you nod up at him. You push on your tippy toes and he leans down to meet your lips; you had folded. Large hands come to grip your biceps to pull you slightly back. You fall back flat on your feet looking up at him with that stare that always drove him insane, the very one he fell in love with way back when. He pulls you back in, pressing his lips against yours again, the kiss grows hungrier as the seconds tick by.

He’s tugging on your sweatpants that were a size too big, easily sliding them off you. They pool at your feet, his hands come and grip on the flesh of your ass, his cold rings leaving a slight indentation on the supple skin. You groan into his mouth, enjoying the feeling of him all over you. “Mingi.” You whimper, pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes, “did you miss me princess?” He coos lowly, you pout and nod all morals gone out the door; you just wanted him.

You didn’t care about your decision on the status of your relationship or if this would be the last time you saw him like this, that could all wait; what mattered was right now. He pulls you along with him, he freely navigates your apartment, finding your bedroom with no problem. He kisses you again, cornering you into the bed, his large hands cup your face pulling you as close as he could. You grip his wrists pulling them away from your face and pushing him slightly back to take off the bleach designed hoodie he wore. His necklaces fall back against his smooth chest as he pulls the thick hoodie off. He tosses the item somewhere in the carpet of the room before eagerly pulling your tank top off. You sink to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks down at you, the liner and shadow somehow making him ten times more attractive. Your thighs press together, your fragile fingers working over time to get the belt off, the buckle is so thick you struggle to undo it. Finally unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his cock bounces fully erect from the makeout. His hand slides up and down the expanse of his thick cock, “open.” He murmurs, guiding it between your parted lips.

The sheer size stretches your mouth as far as it can go, you fully struggle to take him in. The longer your mouth is open, the more spit pools. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck lightly, coating him in your slobber. Slowly you take him further until he hits the back of your throat, you gag slightly and he groans. His fingers brush your hair back, watching as you struggle to take him all the way back, “good girl baby. Just a little bit more for me.” He says gently placing a hand on the crown of your head to push further into your mouth. You gag again, tears stinging your eyes and spit running down your chin and neck, soaking the edge of the bra you wore. He bucks slightly when you flatten your tongue to run deliciously on the underside of him.

The more your tongue runs on him the more spit coats him, he lets out a choked breath at the sudden change, speeding up his hips slightly until your hands delicately press against his thighs to push back. A thick string of saliva connects from your lips to his tip, finally breaking off when you pull further away. You suck in a breath, trying to calm down the nausea roaming in your stomach from your gag reflex. “You okay?” Mingi hums cupping your wet chin to look up at him. You nod and he smiles, you take him back in your mouth, your small hand working on what you couldnt fit. You take him down your throat. His breathing picks up once again, eyes rolling to the back of his head, when you try to pull back he holds you still. The thick head of his cock lodged in your throat. Finally he lets you pull away, leaving you practically wheezing for air. He helps you up and you rest your back on the bed. Mingi hovers above you, his eyes taking you in as if he hadn’t seen this view a hundred times before, but he always made sure to appreciate it. Mingi tugs your bra down the undergarment now resting around your waist, he plays with the hard buds but you needed him now, so you pull him onto you. Ignoring you were still in your underwear you move it to the side desperately, as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. You take him in your hand guiding him into your wet hole.

He looks down looking where you two would be connecting. Pushing in, you grimace at the slight burn from not having him in you for a long time. You squirm the more he goes in. He holds you down, fully diving into you, “shhh it’s okay baby, you’re taking me so well. My good girl.”

When he hits your hilt you groan, “Mingi please.” He looks at your already fucked out face. He sets a brutal pace, your eyes roll when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. You moan loudly, panting from the lewd activity. Your mouth drops open, and your back arches, his grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you to meet his hips. Your eyes roll back, nails desperately digging into his strong forearms. One of his hands drops from your waist, his tattooed fingers coming up to your mouth. They feel heavy on your wet tongue, he speeds up dragging his fingers out and running his hand down your chin to let it rest on your throat. Your body jolts with every single thrust, inching slightly up the bed every time his hips meet yours.

Mingi’s mind's going a million miles per hour, but at the same time he can't focus on anything else but you under him. He suddenly feels a wave of anger wash over him. His hand tightening on your throat causing your breath to hitch. You felt so high and far away, his dominance causing another rush of slickness to come out of you. “Listen to yourself. So fucking wet.” He groans, pistoning his hips into you. He was angry, angry at mostly himself, but also angry at the thought of you leaving him and finding someone else. “You’re not made for anyone else but me.” He pants, he was selfish with you, you were his everything, and he wanted to make sure you knew; even if this was the last time he’d get to have you like this. “Mi-Mingi, fuck.” You gasp, he suddenly pulls out and urgently flips you on your belly. He hikes your hips up, pulling the ruined cotton panties down and pressing on your back to deepen the arch. He enters you again, sliding in easily. At this point you felt incoherent, all you felt was him. His cock head hits the spongy spot deep within you, it leaves you trembling and seeing stars.

You whimper loudly into the plush sheets beneath you, trying to clutch onto something for dear life. “Good fucking girl baby. Take it, y-you’re doing such a good job.” You gasp at his lewd words. You felt so full, like you could burst at any moment, “fucking play with yourself slut. Make yourself cum all over my dick.” At his words your shaky hand reaches between your legs, pressing your clit the way you liked. You suddenly feel so aware of the sensations coursing through your body, from the feeling of Mingi’s heavy hands and rings on your warm skin to the delicious stretch of his cock, you were close to seeing god.

“You’re about to cum huh baby?” He asks with a mocking tone, “yes Mingi yes, I’m- cum, I’m gon-.” Your words die in your mouth as he clutches onto your hips driving himself into you, your hands reach back to rest on his pubic area trying to get him to slow down, instead he grabs your wrists and pulls you slightly off the bed. He pistons his hips hard, hitting your spot repeatedly, before suddenly slowing down and focusing on deepening himself, the pressure of his cock nestled against your cervix is enough to send you over. Your vision goes white and your ears begin to ring. “Fuck- fuck.” Mingi moans, he cums, unloading himself deep within your velvety walls. He holds your shaking frame, keeping himself warm in you.

When you open your eyes, your vision is slightly hazy, you squint to focus on your surroundings. You turn your head to look at the man who was still deep in you. His gaze is on the ceiling, still recovering from his orgasm. His breathing becomes labored, he sucks in small breaths looking back down at you, you notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Your gaze softens, “Mingi oh my god.” You say softly, your arms come under you to push yourself up. His flaccid cock slips out of you. You cup his face, turning him to look at you. “Hey why are you crying?” You ask even though you had an idea as to why. He sniffles, looking down at the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into him.

“Mingi?” You insist, you needed him to say something, anything. “I just don’t know if this is the last time I'll see you. Have you like this, and be this close to you. I don’t think you understand how badly I don’t want to lose you.” He cries into your moistened skin and suddenly you don’t know what to say or do. “I love you Mingi.” It’s the first thing that slips out, he looks up all doe eyed. “Come here,” you say, flipping the duvet to slip under it. He follows suit, you ignore the wetness that has now smeared all over your inner thighs. Your head comes to rest on his chest, fingers playing with the stacked chains around his neck. “I love you baby, but please say something.” He whispers, sniffling slightly. “Hey relax,” you whisper, propping yourself up to look at him. Your hands run through his dark hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Now here you were laying in bed once again with the person that had once ruined you emotionally, yet you couldn’t let him go. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was tomorrow's problem.

Taglist: @byuntrash101

#ateez smut #mingi smut #hongjoong smut #jongho smut #san smut #seonghwa smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #yunho smut #smut #kpop smut

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annabelle--cane · 1 year ago

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so you're an old man in the victorian era, right? right. and you've got evil magic powers and you're planning to destroy the world with your fucked up magic evil prison. so you give it a go and, whoops, everyone in the prison is dead and it sinks into the fucking swamp. we've all been there. but, hey, there's an upside: if you go down into the swamp-prison and sit in a special chair you get to everything in the whole wide world! well. nowhere with no eyes or pictures of eyes around, nowhere that fucking clown and her posse shack up, not any of the tunnels around the swamp-prison, but whatever. a lot of stuff. and you're like, great! I can work with this! but then you're like "hang on. I'm super old and super about to die. I need to pull the ol' ocular switcheroo." but hey, this, too, has an upside: you can put your old man body in the special chair while your satellite body goes out and about. great! no more high-chair jail for jonah! but here's my question: how does that work, like logistically. you've probably already picked a guy, right, so you bring him and a melon baller and the finest chloroform victorian medicine can provide somewhere private, you do the deed, you blink a few times and try to get used to the new digs, but now what. is your first warm up errand as this new guy lugging your old man kinda-corpse down into the swamp tunnels and putting it in the special boy high-chair? or did you do all of this in the old prison in the first place to make it easier? did you tell your young man friend "follow me through this trap door into the secret institute tunnels and keep walking with me for a suspicious amount of time"? like what was the game plan here. did your new host think he was about to fuck an old man in a creepy basement before you pulled out the weird spoon.

#tma #marina marvels at life

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faeriekit · 7 months ago

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Down and Out

phic phight prompts taken from @sillysugargliders and @akela-nakamura

“Technowizard!” Tuck declared, pointing up towards the glass ceiling. The ratty Hack-A-Thon tee-shirt and Star Wars print pants did not an imposing outfit make.

Sam’s avocado-coated face barely even looked up from her phone. “Lame.”

“The Finest Pharoah!” Tucker tried again, glaring straight down at Sam as he posed again— this time, with his other hand.

“Cringe,” was Sam’s bland contribution.

Tucker threw both his hands in the air in sheer exasperation, narrowly avoiding sending Sheila2 flying up into the air with them. “The— oh shoot— the Tech Menace! The Electric Enemy!”

“Makes you sound like a bit-rate villain,” Sam drawled, finishing out her level of tetris with perfect accuracy. She clicked off the phone before she could get suckered in. “Tucker, have you considered any good names? At all?”

Fair revenge was fair revenge, and Tucker didn’t want to waste his own pillow on vengeance. Using Sam’s bamboo-woven pillowcase against her facemask was fair game— and her shriek of rage over the smeared facemask was just desserts.

Tucker eventually lost, of course, smothered underneath the very same pillow he’d assaulted his friend with, but hey; he’d given it his all, and that was what mattered in the end.

Winning would be nice, though. You know. One day.

In the meantime, though, they were squatting in Sam’s greenhouse, reclining on air mattresses on recycled wooden palettes. It was kind of cold— Tucker was glad Sam had thought ahead and brought blankets— but there were no bugs, and there was no rain, even if there were frogs singing bleakly outside glass walls throughout the night.

Sam was good at pretending it didn’t bother her.

Tucker knew it had to, though. Sam was used to having things. Being comfortable. Having her bamboo toothbrush and toothpaste tabs at the ready, with her natural fiber blankets and her desktop computer and a credit card that would solve the majority of her problems.

Instead they had used the cheapest versions of everything at the dollarstore. Abrasive discount soap. Deodorant with added aluminum. They’d brushed their teeth at the spigot where the hose screwed on, and tomorrow they’d wash with the hose the same way.

Card could be traced. Tucker was the only one who’d been carrying cash in the moment.

Man, Tucker thought, tunnelling himself under his blankets. Running away sucked. At least the only thing Tucker had to miss was his parents. And his spare parts.

…He hoped his parents weren’t looking for him. The "proper authorities" had probably already informed them he was infected. They should…they should hopefully know that being gone was safer than being there.

Sam’s black-nailed thumb and green-coated face peeked at him from under the covers. Without his glasses, she mostly looked like a blob, so Tucker just waved. He wanted to be social. He wanted to be happy.

It felt like everything was falling apart through his fingers, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Hey,” Sam said. “If you want to charge your tech, I’m out of the plug.”

It was a sweet gesture. “Thanks,” was all Tucker could say. But he didn’t want to leave his cave.

Sam, of all people, knew what level of trust the gesture meant when Tucker gave his phone over to her. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to; it was the same level of trust Sam was showing to him by letting them stay here, together, instead of apart, the way Jazz had originally planned.

Running away properly would have been safer. But here, in this moment, they were warm, and safe, and somewhat fed.

Tucker stuck his face into his pillow and thought It doesn’t get much better than this.

…Man, it was supposed to be roast beef dinner tonight. He was missing out!

“...I still think that Technowizard is a cool name,” Tucker grumbled to himself. Sam shot him a fond, if exasperated look.

“No.”

“Fine, bossy. What did you pick?”

“Foxglove,” Sam replied simply. “Most famous poisonous plant in the Western world. It’s poetic.”

Tucker thought on it. It…had merit, but… “You know people are going to shorten it to Foxy, right?”

Sam paused.

…She set her phone down with clear disgust. “Ugh. I hate that you’re right.”

“I’ll never let you down,” Tucker offered, very seriously. “I’m always right.”

Sam pulled the blanket back down over him until he squawked in indignation.

“Okay,” Sam’s voice came in muffled through their blanket barrier. “Maybe we can both hold off on names until we decide how we’re doing this, exactly.”

This, of course, being their new life on the run— ideally, taking down the GIW and their hold on Amity Park, or in the short run, cutting and ditching in every effort to not get captured. Their plan so far wasn’t much better than “wait for Danny to get home from Space Camp”, but, you know…needs are as they must. Or something.

“How about Cryptid?” Tucker offered, poking his head out of his blanket hovel. His glasses were…somewhere, but no matter where he groped for them, his hands still came up empty. “Short. Simple. Lots of hard consonants. Easy to muddy up in an internet search with other information. They’d be looking for you and find, like, the Entfield Horror.”

Sam gave that thought its due while Tucker found his glasses. “It’s…better than Inviso-Bill for sure.”

Okay, that one was worth the laugh.

“You could try Technomage,” Sam tried out in turn. "It would be like naming a snake 'snake', since you’re going through magical puberty or whatever, but…”

Tucker snorted. Magical puberty.

…But.

She’d been the first to notice when Tucker hadn’t even needed to touch Edna (PDA of the month) to write her new programs in class. She’d taped over his stylus to prove it to him— and Tucker hadn’t even noticed with the weight of a phantom stylus in his hand as he coded telepathically. Realizing he hadn’t been tapping any of the buttons had been. Spooky.

His phone didn’t need a SIM card anymore. He was saving his family a lot on outgoing and ingoing calls, apparently, and the reported number of texts they’d had to pay for was a big fat goose egg.

Also, he was pretty sure someone was emailing him at the moment.

…He wasn’t sure how he knew. But. It kind of tasted like blue raspberry. It was probably Danny’s sister.

So. Um. the magical puberty thing hadn’t been too off track. It had certainly been less subtle than Sam’s newfound ability to speak with plants, but…at least talking to your flowerpots looks normal from the outside looking in.

Apparently lawn mowing day at school gave Sam real trauma, though. Finding her in the nurses’ office with her head buried under her denim jacket had been scary.

“Better than nothing,” Tucker begrudgingly agreed. He left his glasses wherever they were; he’d find them in the morning. “I mean. We technically don’t even need names. If we just start breaking their stuff, they’ll probably name us anyway.”

Sam laughs. The green on her face is gone; she likely wiped her mask off when Tucker couldn’t see. “With you hacking their stuff?”

“And you growing your freaky vines out of their gear,” Tucker added. “The…what’s the one. The one that ate that one house?”

Sam leans her head down onto Tucker’s mattress. Her clean, damp face swims into view. “Oh. The kudzu?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, I can cultivate that— not here, since it grows so fast. Did you know Kudzu’s supposed to be eaten? People usually take it off the roadside in China for an easy food source. That’s why it overtakes so much stuff here: there’s no one taking on the role of its natural predator.”

Huh. Well, sounded like something Sam would know. Tucker wedged his pillow further underneath his head; Sam’s still had some goop on it, so he gave her his extra blanket instead.

Sam stuffed it underneath her head with no issue. Without her purple lip and filled in brows, she just looked like Sam— just like a girl in his class, who wanted to make the world a better place, and didn’t know how to do it.

Tucker wanted to do better too.

But they wouldn’t do it alone. They’d be better off with Danny than without.

“All we have to do is make it until Danny comes back. And then we can reconvene.”

…And then what?

“And then?” Tucker asked, a little too quiet.

Sam had never backed down from a challenge. She never would. “And then we kick ass.”

Well. When she said that, it was all so simple.

The lights clicked out in the greenhouse, and just in time— the outside started to burst with light and sound as agents tore up the road outside the Manson property.

The door was locked. The daisies at the door and the wispy strings-of-hearts would give them more than enough warning if the agents swept through.

It was bedtime, or good enough as.

Sleep wasn’t restful, but the quality of the night didn’t matter; it only had to get them to the next day.

#phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #Phic phight #tucker foley #Sam Manson #ambiguous timeline when they're on the run from the GIW! 🎉#Danny's fine he's just out of town #'where' space camp. he's on a break #giw as a bad guy with local regulatory power #fill

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moonbeammist · 7 months ago

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The Peasant's Secret (Part 1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

I don't give permission for any of my fanfiction to be posted, this is also cross posted on my account w/ Archive of our own :)

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: I drew heavy inspiration from the Dune Part Two Soundtrack, truly sets the mood and tone for the story if you wanna have a listen. I appreciate this community of writers/readers! Any feedback and thoughts are most welcome! The 1st Part serves as Prologue, an introduction to your character and her world. Enjoy 💚

WARNINGS: (Mostly for 2nd Chapter): (Adults only 18+) DARK! profanity, extreme violence, torture, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation, light smut

SUMMARY: As a rice-harvester hailing from Planet Caladan, you knew these things to be true. You and your people were "peasant scum". And as far as you can tell, peasant scum deserved a shot at the vast unknown as much as any noble folk did. Even if the only thing protecting you is a flawed battle-tactic and the falsehoods that you tell yourself. Even if it has you riding a wave into the wicked evils that lie.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k words

PART 1 PART 2

You were in a colourless oasis. It wasn't really an oasis in the scenery sense; it was an oasis in the sense that it felt like a bottomless void, a strange, deafening dream. It was an oasis because it didn't feel like reality. A desolate vision to where no judging eyes would befall you as you threw your whole self, your body, into its ultimate test. That’s how they all made their mark here, isn’t it?

You reflect on Giedi Prime's obscure, bone-dry alternate reality to your home planet of Caladan - you were of peasant descent in the lush, grassy, biodiverse settlements. You and your mother had strengths in labour as rice planters, trading their services to the wealthy nobles in exchange for military protection. A life of labour and sweat in the rice fields, the economy depended on their work, as such, they had little free time.

Stepping foot into the outdoors, the crunch of your cheaply-made, scraggly brown boots is heard as you line up with the rest of the prisoners. The earth smelled of crust, rot, and blood. You somewhat know where you're supposed to end up as Harkonnen soldiers round you up, but at the same time, you haven’t got a clue where you’ll be settling before battle. Wide, dark tunnels arch over the sand like a protective roof against the beating black sun. You've been given the finest privilege to represent your low-status family members in a brutal and bloody ceremony where this pale, ghostly Harkonnen House cuts you down, down into the dirt. A death deemed worthy.

A death is worthy when you die with passion because you’re trying - kicking and screaming. It's a beautiful way to go because you feel everything.

The height of your human complexities is shown at the forefront - pushing yourself, testing yourself.. You who initially thought fighting was for those who have a reason to fight, like for political gain and power, defending your home and planets among the stars. However, you have never felt so alive, representing the absolute bottom of the barrel. What joy it would be to see an enemy fall from not hand-to-hand combat, not brute force, but peasant trickery.

This is worth something.

That’s what you tell yourself. What else can you cling to? You were living for the cultivation of rice before you came here.

Horns erupt in a deep, haunting bass. The ground is shaking. Shaking with such strength that your feet stumble forward, knees scraping the grainy, white sand. Your hands bite into the sand. A guttural song emits from the speakers suddenly, the force of it hitting your chest like a bang. Your body stutters.

Your fellow no-name fighters eyes snap at your movements. Hushed chuckles erupt over the heavy bass. You feel slightly embarrassed as you quickly stumble back up and rub the grainy sand away from your knees and palms. Your eyes narrow.

This is all of your first times, all of your fellow fighters' first essential phases into proving yourself worthy to Harkonnens. Granted, you were vermin first, something to gawk at, something like cattle. As far as you heard from your briefing on the way here, this whole spectacle was based on a test round. If you pass your initial testing round, then - maybe, just maybe, you can live in comfort. There was not much more elaboration than that. Either get cut down, sliced down, gutted down - or prosper. So why do you feel like you're the only one on edge? You’re in your head too much.

Because I might fucking die.

You swallow that thought down, burying it deep in your stomach, where it should stay.

Underneath the arena, there is a place where the Harkonnen soldiers stop - a small, enclosed burrow tucked away from sight, away from the audience members that fill the seats of the large dome-like sphere of the arena. Through the dark, enclosed area you can make out the bleached atmosphere stretched and rounded out, seeing several egg-like craniums darting up and down in the stands. Their eyes were like inky, beady pools of onyx - almost insect-like. They were thrashing in excitement, the low murmur of chatter and whooping heard.

You look around to your peers. There is nothing really notable about any of you. Dressed in meek wool, burlap, or loin cloth. Prepped with various weapon satchels latched onto waists or knees. You have no advanced shields or armour, that is true. As suicidal as that may seem against these elite brutes, It’s what you represent that really matters. The peasant trickery you have up your sleeve.

You were an only child born to common people. In the small moments, you would take to the hills with your mother and run and play. Your mother's long, flowing hair would crack like a whip against the wind behind her, in a game of “cat and mouse," as she would call it. You would try to grasp at the ends of her hair - your mother's high, sing-songy laughter echoing in the distance as you chased her.

You did not know your father - just that he was a passing tradesman who fell in love with your mother’s quirks and tenacity for adventure; in the odd breaks she could have them between planting rice grain. They spent 6 months together, you heard, and it was passionate. But he could not stay on this planet.

Your mother did not know if he was alive. But despite him leaving, she spoke fondly of him. “He defied appearances. They thought of him as a simple, dull man in the trades, a grunt. But his intellect was his greatest secret.”

You supposed that maybe you were that small reminder of him to her, as her description of your father shadowed your mother’s slow moulding of your personality over the years. A weak, feeble rice labourer by appearances, always dressed in brown, murky colours to disappear. She did not want anyone to notice you at first glance; let that be your first safety. If they must stumble on you or pester your forgettable existence, you must keep up the act at first glance. You were scared, you were begging for your life like a common peasant. If they continue to prod and seek to damage or harm you, they would pry open the bottle of secrets that came spilling out of you in this fight-or-flight scenario.

You had a lot to learn and a lot to process as Caladan civilians. The threat of Caladan’s as well as other planets' potential hostile nature was something you were keenly aware of, a foot on your back of sorts, as you couldn’t do anything formidle to stop an enemy.

The peasants, not permitted to use weapons or obtain shields or anything of the sort, could only offer you certain wisdom that was passed among the peoples. One they passed to your mother’s watchful eye and then onto you. They call it the peasant’s secret.

The art of dodging.

“Remember the game of cat and mouse?” You remember your mother’s voice barely over a whisper as she lay beside you one night in woolly sleeping bags on the soft greenery beneath you. The weather was hot enough to enjoy a night outside. The flow of the river’s stream is heard against her.

You haven’t used the peasant’s secret in awhile. You primarily used it against your mother and your fellow people, as they would take turns throwing you into mock battles. They didn’t have any weapons, but they did collide, push, and throw themselves into your body at full speed, so you had to react quickly.

They did push you to the limit. Bless them. Until you were an exhausted heap of limbs on the ground and had the wind knocked out of you.

You knew that wasn’t as valuable as practicing it against someone who genuinely wanted to kill you. You didn’t know if the peasant’s secret had successfully saved someone’s life against a brutal attack or if it was just used as a quick get-away.

So yes, you could fall into the trap of thinking you knew what you were doing when, in reality, it was based on instinct. Of course, the arena was a circle. A never-ending loop. Eventually, even though your stamina was now crafted to be well above average, you would eventually get tired. The peasant community of Caladan had a careful, pinpoint focus on the art of dodging rather than hand-to-hand combat or brute force, which made for a very interesting opponent, if you could even call it that. Most of the time, if you could, you were told to outrun them first. So your speed heavily improved. If they were just as fast, then you could begin your dance.

Now, you could finally put it to the test. To see how you fare, to see if it could actually prevent you from getting sliced and diced by the Harkonnens in the arena—albeit for a while. The main thing to keep in mind, as your mother had warned, was to keep your opponent on their toes, snapping not only their mental state but their body. Then, when the time is right, you steal their weapon and use it against them. Today you were permitted a small dagger, strapped and holstered on the outside of your thigh. Although you weren’t concerned about it, you told yourself you would use it as a last resort when they weren’t suspecting you to. You didn’t know how to dance with a weapon; you only knew how to bob and weave without one.

Count Fenring, the Siridar-Absentia of your homeworld Caladan, while the Atreides occupy the planet Arrakis, had dealings with the Harkonnens prior to your descent here. You were never meant to come here. But Count Fenring had called upon the rice labourers one day for a strange proposal. Gathering in the high-esteemed buildings and feeling out of place, your people had looked upon Count Fenring’s narrow, proud face. You knew him to be conniving and manipulative in nature, a renowned assassin, and the Emperor Shaddam’s right-hand man. He was neutral toward the labourers; as long as they kept up on the plantation of their planet’s rice, he had no issues. He would often make dealings with the noblemen and women of Caladan; it was very rare that the rice labourers were added to any conversation.

“House Harkonnen of Giedi Prime is seeking entertainment, to those willing-" Count Fenring’s voice boomed, sitting atop his makeshift throne.

His voice is cut off by your thoughts at the Planet’s name. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, called your Count “The ambassador to the smugglers” in spice production.

He continues. “I know you do not get to leave your trusted duties among the fields very often, but consider this a gift of sorts - whoever is able, and willing to be “battle entertainment” to the Na-barron of House Harkonnen, Feyd-Rautha, will be permitted to win your chance at freedom to travel to a new planet, a new experience.. You don’t ever have to return.”

An audible chorus of gasps are heard amongst your peoples. Hushed angry whispers fill the room. You gape at the vagrant display of lack of remorse for human life. You knew little, but House Harkonnen enjoyed pleasures in gore and sadism, is what you did know. What’s in it for your Count? This has to do with spice dealings.

“Freedom to die?” a male voice questioned loudly. “You dangle freedom in the air as if House Harkonnen has any, and to dangle us in front of the Harkonnen brutes like meat!”

The crowd got louder and louder in frustration and opposition. The Count’s voice bellows as his army hits their swords to the ground in a clang to signify the rice labourers to quiet their naysayers. “Enough. To those who are not interested, you may leave. You are not forced to stay. To those that are, please remain.”

A number of your people shuffled out in a hurry, their bodies a large mass squeezing through the royal entryway. You blink. This is downright morbid. You had never considered such a thing before, as you only knew your planet to be worthy of laying down your roots until the end of time.

You feel your mother reach for your hands. They are warm, and so is her eyes as she peers into the core of your being.

Your planet is beautiful - access to bodies of lakes, rocky mountains, majestic trees and budding flowers, delicious rice...

“You should go.” she mutters. “Live for us.”

Her words a grim truth. Brutal honesty. And that was enough for you.

A handful of the peasants stay alongside you. Your mother places her lips upon your cheek in a chaste kiss. Your tear ducts well with water as her hand leaves your grasp. Somehow, you know it’s too late to turn back now. You don’t know what made you follow Count Fenring onto the ship and not look back. A chaotic chance for something other than field work? A plunge into absurdity?

You could try absurdity for a while, you decided.

PART 1 PART 2

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bonefall · 2 years ago

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Warrior Bites: Clan Tools

[Image ID: Reedwhisker, a black RiverClan warrior cat, sits behind two terracotta pots, some strips of willowbark, a traditional wooden pot called a firkin, and a rock. He has a stick in his mouth.]

Warriors of the Clans are shown in-canon to be able to weave, dig tunnels, decorate with shells, and do whatever it is that BloodClan’s got going on with those collars and manicures. Have you considered what other tools a semi-realistic warrior could handle?

A guide to the various tools and methods that the Clans can use to prepare complex dishes, including the equipment needed for smoking, baking, pickling, and so on. Part of the Warrior Bites series for Bonefall’s Clan Culture.

(The art in this guide was once again provided by my partner who hasn’t read a single page of warrior cats in their life but so help me god I’ll drag them down with me)

Tools + Equipment

Fire Starting

Containers: Twine + Baskets + Buckets

Cookware: Smokers, Ovens, “Grillstones“

1. Fire Starting

Flint can be used to start a fire, especially for Clans that lack lumber. Because flint is most easily found around the Mothermouth, it’s associated with StarClan’s glow and considered somewhat divine.

But for those situations without a flint starter, the Clans generally teach their apprentices the paw-drill method using a spindle. But these days, SkyClan uses stolen Glass to start fires quicker and easier than any other Clan…

Except on cloudy days, where some unfortunate apprentice still gets saddled with spindle duty.

[Image ID: Reedclaw, a brown tabby Warrior Cat from SkyClan, sits on his haunches and spins a long stick called a ‘spindle’ with his front paws. Smoke is rising from the board the spindle is spinning against.]

2. Containers: Twine + Baskets + Buckets

RiverClan has the easiest access to twine; Willowbark can be peeled right off the tree and used without any processing for simple string to tie things with. WindClan uses woven grass as twine. ShadowClan, SkyClan, and ThunderClan are able to make cordage from Blackberry brambles.

Once the cat has twine, it can be woven into a simple basket to gather things, like berries, clams, or insects. In order to carry liquids, forested Clans can create firkins-- a small wooden bucket that requires some carpentry ability, namely creating wooden nails.

But these tremble before the value of pottery, which is needed to store liquids, ferment and pickle food, and create stew.

Pottery is made from clay, which has to be baked in order to go from wet mud to terracotta. RiverClan is responsible for making the majority of new pottery because of the river, and ShadowClan’s marsh gives them lots of access to low-quality clay.

WindClan was once unmatched in the quality of their pottery thanks to tunneling leading them to the finest clay deposits known to the Clans. Though SkyClan is now rivaling the finest ancient WindClan pottery, due to their willingness to steal buckets from twolegs.

(Leafstar says, “if you cant make a firkin, store-bought is fine”)

[Image ID: Leafstar, the brown tabby-and-cream Warrior cat leader of SkyClan, sits behind a counter in front of an audience presenting a man-made firkin, parodying shopping channels. A speech bubble says, “Meow meow meow meow meow, storebought is meow.”]

3. Cookware: Smokers, Ovens, “Grillstones“

A smoker is very easy to construct, all that’s needed is some straight branches, twine, and fire.

First, a round pit is dug into the ground and filled with soaked woodchips. It is important they’re damp, because wet wood gives off more smoke than dry. Then, three beams are set and tied at the top, like a triangle. From there, a shelf is made inside of the beams. Multiple shelves can be made if a lot of food is being smoked at once.

ThunderClan wraps the smoker in a leather pelt, to keep the smoke in. Their prowess with smoking and seasoning a wide range of meats gives them the title of BBQ champions.

[Image ID: A primitive smoker setup, made of three sticks leaned against each other in a triangular shape and tied at the top. Two shelves are tied into the structure, the top row with minnows and the bottom with hanging strips of meat.]

An oven is a large construction. Capable of cooking several meals at once, each clan would have just one to use communally. Because the communal oven is such a big project, each Clan would have one that looks unique to their environment.

ThunderClan’s, for example, is flat and made of stone, simple in design but very sturdy and capable of cooking a lot of meat at once.

[Image ID: A stone oven made of flat, piled rocks. A fire is lit at the bottom and meat is browning on the top shelf. A stick leans against the side.]

For the quickest and easiest way to make a hot meal, meat is roasted on a spit or loose stick over an open fire. The best sear comes from a large, flat slab of rock propped up over a flame, known to the clans as a grillstone.

[Image ID: Firestar, ginger tabby warrior cat leader of ThunderClan, watches bacon sizzle on a large, flat rock placed over a fire. His daughter, Squirrelkit, sits beside him. A thought bubble above her head contains a waffle, and a question mark.]

(Clan blood be damned that kittypet can work a grill)

#cooking #warrior cats #Clan Culture #Warrior Bites #smoker #cookware #oven #grillstone #twine #why do they call it an oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food #Firestar #Squirrelflight #Reedclaw #bushcraft #leafstar #Warriors

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yuurei20 · 2 months ago

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Malleus Facts Part 65: Trey

When Malleus struggles with setting up his tent during Vargas Camp Trey volunteers to show him how to use a hammer.

Students around them comment on how Trey is not afraid of Malleus, treating him like a regular person.

When Malleus disappears in the mine during the camp Trey is not particularly concerned, and that night it is confirmed that Malleus spent a significant portion of his day exploring the mine tunnels on his own.

Malleus disappears with Lilia during the event (at Crewel’s request, as having them participate normally provided an unfair advantage to their teams), and when they reunite at the end Malleus assures Trey that he performed the finest deeds of all in his eyes.

Malleus expresses an interest in eating date syrup on ice cream, saying, “Perhaps you might make me some later, Clover.”

While we never see Trey do so on screen, Malleus has a voice line about getting a baked good for Trey in return for a treat he received.

The group gets separated from and then reunites with Malleus during the Firelit Sky event and Trey comments that he was worried that they were going to have a major incident on their hands.

Cater asks if he really thinks that anything bad could happen to Malleus and Trey says, “No. But I’m relieved that Silk City is still in one piece."

Malleus responds, “What do you mean by that?”

Trey teaches Malleus how fireworks work in a monologue in a vignette and Malleus comments on how informed he is.

Trey says it is from playing with his brother and sister back home and Malleus says, “There’s something to be said for people with siblings.”

#twstmalleus #Malleus Draconia #twstfacts #malleusfacts #twisted wonderland

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b0tster · 11 months ago

Note

So I played BBPSX a while ago, but only got through the Gascoigne fight before some other things side tracked me. I'm playing through again now and holy shit the section immediately after him was so well done. The surprise in the sewer tunnel, hearing the song, losing it in the loop only to realize the gate was locked again, fumbling with my items while I could hear them getting closer, frantically running past the rats into the sewer, being followed INTO the sewer. Incredible job

thank you! thats probably my finest original designed moment in the game (even more than the final boss imo)

the idea of a non scripted moment that involves mechanically fumbling for the correct key with ur back pressed against the gate while a terrifying monster approaches you is something that's basically impossible with modern streamlined design sensibilities.

one of the big goals of bloodborne psx was to show everyone how much we lost when we sanded all the rough edges off our games. im really happy that this moment specifically stood out to you :)

#bloodborne psx #although i did cheat and re-lock the gate to get the moment to happen #but i think it was a worthwhile concession to make that moment possible

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anantaru · 1 year ago

Note

Thirst idea for (If you do him) Pantalone + Aftercare?

Weird fixation I have that no one really makes content for

Thank you!

cw. aftercare, surprisingly cute pantalone, kinda lol, fem! reader

subtle traces, in collusion with stealing kisses— one, such as pantalone himself surprisingly sought after elusiveness and delicateness in the current mounting.

then there‘s you, who wasn‘t quite sure what curped the sudden change in his stern demeanor, because quite honestly, you didn‘t expect the man to turn into this almost begging and soul searching individual after rousing the fucking hell out of you just earlier.

on this, you can still perceive the flickering trembles in your body and the smoldering stretches on the insides of your thighs— but pantalone was quick to notice it too, as keen as always, but this time with his hair an utter mess and his glasses neatly folded and placed on the wooden nightstand, while he carefully slid his warm palm over the searing flesh, kneading and massaging the burn away.

"you did so well for me." he praises you, yet do not expect him to clean you up nor aid you with a towel, one step at a time, or perhaps he simply did not care enough, "i did not expect you to do this good for me." besides, the slight notion of a belittling perception wrapped around you like the finest silk sheltering your body.

the mysterious man ought to let you know and never forget, that you weren't on par with him, more was he mistreating you, edging you on to never lose sight on the evident fact that you are beneath him.

his hand wanders close to your aching sensitivity, idly cupping and rubbing the used bundle of nerves with a proud smirk pillowing around the rough edges of his lips in pair with running his parted mouth alongside the outline of your jaw.

you idly weave your digits into his hair and whine, distantly, yet strong enough to leave the harbinger groan ever so lovingly against you— while, “lovingly” was quite the strong word, wasn‘t it?

after all, you never were for certain with pantalone, the man you so deeply cherished while he, sigh, one could only guess. only hope that inwardly, between all the pain and suffering he had faced in the past, that there was a closed off tunnel, dark and sheltered, yet with a brilliant, golden light, illuminating a gentle breeze of love towards your person.

#pantalone x reader #genshin x reader #pantalone smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #pantalone x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

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jaegeraether · 11 months ago

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 40)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (37) & Alexia Putellas x Character (8)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**This is my largest chapter so far (5.6k). I hope you enjoy!**))

Alexia didn’t respond, and nobody knew what to do. In fact, nobody had seen her like that before. Eyes darted from Alexia to Ridley and back with worry and confusion. Lucy and YFN met each other’s eyes with equally worried expressions, though they’d both clicked on.

“She’s the girl from the bar?” Lucy asked Alexia.

Alexia hesitated before she nodded.

“Exactly how many people have you told about last night, la Reina?” Ridley asked slowly in Spanish.

“What happened last night?” Oshoala jumped in curiously.

“Asked and answered.” Ridley murmured and gestured to Lucy and YFN. “Just these two then?”

“That was you last night?” YFN asked Ridley. Lucy put a hand on her arm supportively but also because she just wanted to touch her.

Ridley kept Alexia’s eyes as she responded to YFN. “I told you I made a mistake. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

“You can say that again.”

Ridley turned to look at YFN a little hurt. She’s one person she never wanted to disappoint.

“You never told me it was Alexia.”

“You never asked.” She replied with typical Ridley sass.

One of the coaches yelled from the tunnel then, a little annoyed that they were still chatting. Panos and Oshoala left the awkward exchange first. YFN looked to Keira who had backed away a little, seemably deciding it wasn’t the best time for introductions. Instead, she and YFN exchanged a shy wave before she also ducked off into the tunnel.

“Why are you here?” Alexia asked in Spanish, finding her words.

Ridley assessed her expression, before she removed the leather jacket and held it over the barrier for her.

That clicked for Lucy, but YFN wasn’t aware she’d left her jacket behind. Alexia took a step forward and gently took it without touching Ridley.

“Is that all?”

“No, Alexia. That’s not all.”

Lucy knew a little Spanish, but not enough to keep up with how quickly they spoke.

“ALEXIA! LUCY!” The even more annoyed yell came.

Lucy looked at her girlfriend, eyes darting to her lips and wishing she could kiss her in front of the crowd. “Thank you for coming. I’ll see you after?”

“Yes please.”

“Oh and here…” Lucy removed her jersey and gave it to her. “We have two per game.”

YFN blushed at that, sharing a look with Lucy that said she couldn’t believe they were together again.

Lucy grinned and gave her a quick hug before she jumped off of the cooler box and took Alexia by the arm, tugging her towards the tunnel.

“It’s not the time or place…” She murmured to her.

“My number is in the pocket.” Ridley told Alexia as the Barca Captain allowed Lucy to drag her away. She turned to YFN who was pouting at her. “That’s why you wanted to come? I knew you had an alternate motive.”

“No, Blue. I would have done everything the same regardless because I love you and wanted to see you. This was a bonus that I leapt on when the stars aligned.”

YFN couldn’t help but still be a little mad. Ridley knew Alexia was Lucy’s teammate.

She shrugged her jumper off before pulling Lucy’s jersey over her shirt and pulling the jumper back on. Her match worn shirt. It was a little bigger on her but perfect nonetheless. She felt across the stomach of the material, smiling to herself before looking back up at Ridley.

“You really did that last night?” It wasn’t judgemental, it was worried.

Ridley sighed as they sat down again. “You know I sleep around, Blue.”

“But you made her screw another woman?”

“I invited her. Both parties were willing.”

“You really upset her…”

“I really upset myself.”

YFN could see on her face that she was telling the truth and she felt for her. Ridley was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was one of the best, bravest, smartest people she knew, and a lot more caring than she let anyone see. She had wondered before about the type of person Alexia had interacted with last night and now it made sense and to be honest, her theories weren’t wrong.

Ridley held out her arm in a peace offering and YFN hooked her arm through and rested her head on her shoulder. At the end of the day, she was still Ridley, and as broken as she was, she was still going to be an important part of her life forever.

They sat in silence for a little, watching the half time entertainment on the ground before YFN spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I like my emotions like my water. Bottled.”

Ridley notoriously didn’t talk about anything related to her emotions. The one person in the world she ever spoke about her family and their childhood with was YFN, because she’d been there, and she’d never had any proper relationships to talk about. Any flings, however, she could talk about. Because they meant nothing to her. Alexia was different though, and YFN could see it on her face when she asked the question.

“There’s not much to say,” she murmured as she snacked slowly on her popcorn.

YFN rolled her eyes and a piece of popcorn hit her in the forehead.

“Besides, it seems like you already know?”

“I want to hear from you.”

Ridley sighed and put her popcorn down. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

YFN squeezed the arm she was still holding, hoping to keep Ridley a little warm now that she didn’t have a jacket. She had goosebumps, but she’d never complain, and the Australian flag around her wasn’t helping much.

“I met her in a bar.”

“Your favourite bar that you’re always talking about? With the sex rooms?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

She glued her mouth shut.

“Yes, that bar. I knew who she was immediately, and people spoke about her like a goddess, but there’s just something about her that draws me in. I try to ignore it, but it’s still here. I don’t even have to be looking at her to know she’s right there.”

YFN knew that feeling all too well and she looked at the players running back out, her eyes finding Lucy. She had her arm around Alexia’s shoulder, as if to ensure she wouldn’t turn to look at them when she walked out. Lucy did though. She couldn’t help herself.

“Something…perfect. Something I didn’t want to taint. Something I didn’t want to ruin. I still don’t.”

“So you slept around to make her jealous?”

“I always sleep around. But I slept around more at the bar to push her away, and hoping that it would end this feeling.”

“But it didn’t…” YFN whispered as the whistle blew.

“It didn’t, and I kept going back just hoping to be in the same room as her.”

“Oh Riddles…” It was so unlike her.

“I knew I was being stupid so I left. I took that temporary contract based out of Dubai. It lasted five months and I tried to not come back to the bar, but I couldn’t help myself. She was all over the news.”

“You saw her again?”

“Immediately. It’s hard to not see her. And I suppose you’ve heard of our little interaction.”

“The one where you beat someone up for her?”

Ridley hummed in response and took a sip of water, her eyes locked onto the field. Alexia still wasn’t playing, but it wouldn’t be long until she was subbed on.

“Two of my favourite qualities of yours.”

“Aggression? Cockiness?”

“Chivalry. Protection.”

Ridley looked at her then and a few feelings about their childhood sat there between their look. YFN squeezed her arm tighter. Ridley had always been her protector growing up. Now she not only had Ridley, but Lucy also. Lucy, however, picked and choosed her battles like with the restraining orders. Ridley, however, would kill. Hell, she almost had that day. YFN’s eyes fell to the scar on her cheek.

“I don’t like how we match.” Ridley said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute of you to follow my fashion trend, but I almost got on a plane to find her.”

YFN remembered the long conversation she’d had to calm her down. Knowing she had Lucy was the final nail in the coffin that was the end of that conversation.

YFN chose to end that conversation quick. “We have restraining orders now. You disappeared again?”

“I left again, yes. I was worried she’d strike up a conversation with me if I went back again. So I struggled with self-control in Barcelona for a month and luckily for me, another temp contract came up again in Dubai and they requested me.”

“You really are the favourite at work, aren’t you?”

“You know it, baby.”

“And last night?”

“Last night…I saw her in the bar. So I took my friends with benefits up to the rooms to get some feelings out. You know the one, Jessica?”

“I remember you mentioning her.” She meant nothing to Ridley, though they’d been sleeping together casually for a few years now.

“Mmn. Unfortunately, Alexia came upstairs and when I saw her, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She ran her hand through her hair, and YFN had never seen her look stressed before but right now she could see a little of that. “I didn’t force her to do anything, you know.”

“I know.”

“They were both aware and willing.”

“I know, Riddles. I know. They know, too. The issue isn’t that and you know it. The issue is that she felt used by you. It’s not a great way to show your affection to someone…”

“I just wanted to be close to her. It would have been too personal if it were just the two of us.”

YFN looked back out at Lucy, a little peeved that she was now on the opposite side of the pitch. “That’s relationships for you.”

“I don’t want a relationship.” She responded quickly.

“You know that relationship doesn’t mean dating, right? Lucy and I are in a monogamous relationship, but you and I have a relationship also. It’s called friendship. You have relationships with your…women. They’re sexual relationships. And your work colleagues? Work relationships. You don’t need to define it. You can just let it grow and evolve in its own way, you know.”

“I can never give her a partner relationship.”

“You don't know that, because you’ve never tried. And you don’t know what she wants, because you’ve never asked. You’re just scared, Riddles.”

Ridley scoffed.

“I’m being serious. I know you think nothing scares you, but this does. She scares you. She scares you because she makes you feel things. She scares you because you know you could fall for her. She scares you because you’ve never wanted to open up to someone before.”

“I open up to you.” It was a weak argument, and from the tone in her voice, she knew it.

“Not all the way. You always have that control, and you’re worried you’ll lose it with her. But here’s the thing, you’ll never know. Because you’ve never given her a chance.”

“We don’t know each other.”

“You know enough. You speak to each other without speaking. Lucy and I are the same, and it’s the exact reason we got together. Now we learn together and grow together. We’re learning to trust each other with our most personal selves and open up. And what’s funny is that you already know all of this, Riddles. You’re the smartest person I know. You just need me to say it out loud for you.”

They reached the 62 minute mark then and Alexia was subbed on for Claudia Pina and the roars of the crowd were deafening. They watched her as she stood at the boundary with her blonde hair in her signature ponytail as she hugged Claudia before jogging onto the pitch to take her place. YFN saw Lucy jog over close enough to reach her hand out for a hi-five as she came on. Lucy, Lucy. Her heart was so big, YFN wondered how it was hers. Ridley noticed her longing gaze.

“If she hurts you…”

YFN’s head snapped sideways to her. “If you touch her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Excitement lit in her eyes. “Woah there, Blue. That’s the first time you’ve ever threatened me, you know?”

They chuckled together. They knew she would have zero chance against Ridley, though the declaration sure made obvious her emotions.

They watched the rest of the game without any talk of relationships, and YFN couldn’t help some of her attention on Ona. She was small and very agile. She went down hard in the 69 minute mark for a free kick, before she was subbed out at 72 minutes having been the best on field. As she walked off, her eyes drifted up and found YFN’s. She looked down quickly as if she’d been caught, and YFN didn’t have a chance to wave.

At 81 minutes, Alexia went down for a trip after she’d disposed of the ball and she fell backwards, clutching her ankle. Luckily it wasn’t bad and she was back on her feet after retying her shoes, but YFN and Ridley were both tense. She gave her free kick to Caroline Graham Hansen who kicked a goal with a decent deflection off one of the Villareal players.

There were multiple missed shots through the rest of the game, a few by Alexia and a clever backwards flick by Lucy from a corner which left her grinning as she jogged back to her spot after the attempt, but it ended 6-0 to Barca at the 95th minute, keeping them unbeaten for their Liga F season.

After they shook hands, Lucy bounded back over at the first chance she had, this time dragging a cooler like she was a toddler. She jumped up on it and YFN found herself wrapped up in her arms again, this time she was even more sweaty but she didn’t mind. She pulled back and couldn’t help but play with the little baby hairs of Lucy’s that had curled at the nape of her neck during the intensity of the game.

“Luce! Great game, and that flick?!”

“I know! I just hit it wrong and Mapi was teasing me on it.” She grinned. “Come down to the lockers?”

YFN looked at Ridley. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“You want me to drag you over the rail and carry you down myself?”

Ridley had a good chuckle at that and finally they were properly introduced, though the exchange felt to YFN a lot like two protective men meeting.

“Thanks for getting her here…”

“Anytime. She knows that.”

“And now so do I.”

YFN groaned. Lucy was obviously a little annoyed with her for Alexia, whereas Ridley was just being Ridley. Just a tad more protective.

“Luce, you need a shower.” YFN said, attempting to break the ice.

“You like me sweaty.”

The sexual meaning had her blushing.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You can thank Ridley for that.”

She became more sincere towards her then. “Thank you. Really… thank you.” She turned back to YFN. “How did you get here?”

“Cargo plane. Ridley organised it and picked me up from Valencia.”

“You drove to Valencia from Barcelona?!”

Ridley shrugged. “I like travelling.”

“How much do we owe you?”

Ridley looked almost offended. “Being alive these days is expensive enough.”

“Still.”

“Nothing.”

“Are you coming home on the flight I booked you?” Lucy asked YFN, her arm tightening around her waist. A few fans started screaming for Lucy’s attention around them then, and YFN tried to take Lucy’s lead by pretending she didn’t hear.

“Uh…we haven’t spoken about that.”

“When do you leave?” She looked like she really didn’t want to know the answer.

“My flight out is at 10am.”

It was Lucy’s turn to groan. “But you just got here…”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCY, LUCY!”

The extra excited fans managed to barge into the friends and family section and were barrelling towards them. “Oh shit, you need to go Luce.”

“Grab onto me.” Lucy grabbed YFN and dragged her over the railing with her and when they were down on the pitch, they looked up at Ridley who was expressionless, and surprisingly resistant to the shoving around by the fans.

“You want me down there?” She asked, unworried.

“Yes?!”

“I’ll get the cooler-”

Lucy was cut off by Ridley leaping down and landing with the confidence of a gymnast. They moved towards the pitch and away from the fans.

“10 am?!”

“Yeah.. I need to be at the airport earlier though for the international flight.”

“What about the storm?”

“Storm will be gone by then.” Ridley interjected.

They’d lost one and a half days due to a storm, and the other half a day from YFN making a promise to Kyra. Lucy’s emotions were clearly written on her face. Regardless, she spoke between gritted teeth.

“I’m guessing you want to drive back with Ridley? You haven’t seen each other in a while…”

“Uh…”

There was a pause and Ridley stepped in. “I’m actually staying in Valencia tonight. You two have your fun, and I’ll catch you next time you’re in Spain. Besides, we’ve had our little catch up.”

YFN knew she was lying, but Lucy didn’t and her body relaxed with relief. It meant three more hours together.

“You’re staying in Valencia tonight?” Alexia asked in English, having crept up on the conversation.

Ridley didn’t respond at first, because she knew it was a lie, and Alexia’s expression said that she didn’t believe her.

“I can be.”

“Alexia is staying here too...” Lucy offered.

That got Ridley’s attention. “Really?”

“Si.”

“It’s her grandma’s birthday tomorrow.” Lucy offered again.

YFN smacked her hip lightly, as if to tell her to stop trying to influence their discussion. Cheeky Lucy. She chuckled, relishing the fact that YFN was here with her arm around her waist and Lucy’s slung over her shoulder. It should have been a crime to live in two different countries.

“Is that so?” Ridley asked, switching to Spanish. “Are you free to talk tonight?”

“I can be.”

“Perfect. I can drive you from here if you’d like. There’s a great restaurant in Valencia I’d like to show you.”

“We’re not having sex.”

“Don’t speak too soon, la Reina. We wouldn’t want to make you a liar, now.”

Lucy and YFN’s heads were shifting from one to the other, like a game of tennis, wondering what was happening. It was hard to miss the word sex, though.

Alexia looked as if she was going to change her mind when Ridley spoke again. “Relax, Alexia. I just want to talk. I owe you a proper apology.”

“Okay…” She agreed hesitantly. “But I need to shower and change first.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside. Message me.”

Alexia wandered off, Ridley’s eyes following every step she took. Lucy turned to YFN and they shared a look.

“I’m going to shower. I’ve booked a seat next to you on the plane.”

“You’re not going with your team?”

Lucy scoffed. “You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you two need a lift to the airport?”

“Yes, please!” YFN agreed, before she’d realised what she’d agreed to. “Go shower, Luce. We’ll be outside. I’ll be the one with the Australian Flag.”

Lucy swore she’d never been so tempted to kiss her before. She leant forwards and her eyes darkened, but the yelling of the fans close by was too obvious, and she didn’t want to share a kiss with her girlfriend with the world. She deserved her privacy.

“I’ll find you, little one.”

The car ride was the most awkward thing all four of them had ever experienced in their lives. It started off awkwardly before they’d even entered the car, all of them wondering the most acceptable place to sit. They eventually decided YFN in the front with Ridley and Lucy in the back with Alexia was the way to go. YFN stretched her arm out behind her and Lucy tangled her fingers with her own. The ride was nothing but music and Ridley chuckling at the awkwardness until they spoke. Surprisingly, it was Alexia of all people who spoke first.

“YFN, Lucy said you both grew up together?” She asked with a thick accent, gesturing between her and Ridley.

YFN turned in her seat, happy to finally be able to speak to Lucy’s friend.

“Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since we were really young. We went to school together and lived next door to each other.” She looked at Ridley cheekily and she knew that expression all too well.

“Don’t you dare.”

She dared. “I have a few embarrassing stories if you’d like to hear them?”

“I will pull this car over and put you in the boot.”

“She can still hear me from the boot.”

“Not gagged, she won’t.”

“I think Lucy would have something to say about that.”

“Don't make me fight on the side of the highway, Blue. I really like this shirt and besides, you need her in tact for tonight.”

YFN blushed at that. The funny little exchange happened quickly, Lucy and Alexia following it amused. It was clear to see they knew each other very well.

“You know Lucy boxes, right?”

“You know I have two black belts, right?”

“Are they always like this?” Alexia asked.

Lucy shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve seen them together.”

“This is tame, I promise you.” Ridley replied before directing her attention back to YFN. “Your girlfriend can’t save you from this.”

“Ah, you’re just the full package, aren’t you?”

“That is correct. Hard to imagine why I’m single, right?”

“Why are you single?” Lucy asked.

“Give it a minute and you’ll see.” YFN muttered.

Alexia laughed then, and Lucy couldn’t help but laugh with her because Alexia rarely laughed like that.

“You know I put a disclaimer out whenever I introduce you to people?” YFN asked Ridley. Their banter was never-ending.

“Let me guess, ‘The best thing to happen since sliced bread?’”

“An acquired taste.”

“You really are a lesbian.”

YFN groaned. Ridley had always been too quick witted, and she was obviously out of practise having been apart from her in so long. Their two passengers in the back, meanwhile, were loving the experience. “That’s it, I’m telling them the 2am chocolate cake story.”

“Don't start.”

“You know that automatically makes me want to start.”

“There’s a pull over bay coming up.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I dare all day long, baby. Try me.”

“There’s also the therapist story…”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “The rollerblading one.”

“They were heelies, and I still think they’re a trend.”

“Was the Jager bomb in your hand also a trend?”

“You tell me, you’re the one to put it there.”

“It was my attempt to encourage you to open up to him.”

“Do I look like a flower to you?”

“Flowers are pretty.”

“I’m not pretty?”

YFN rolled her eyes. “You ARE pretty. But then there’s that resting face you do…”

“I’ll have you know that has gotten me out of a lot of conversations over the years.”

“You two sound like my brother and I.” Lucy said through chuckles. They were still enjoying the show, it seemed.

“You’re going to have to get used to it if we spend Christmas together.”

“Ridley’s coming for Christmas?”

“It her suggestion, believe it or not.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t guilt me into it…”

YFN chuckled and hit her shoulder.

“In Australia?” Lucy asked, wanting to plan.

YFN turned around to her. “I was thinking of bringing them both over to the UK for a white Christmas actually. Nan and I have never had a white Christmas.”

“Yes! Okay, perfect. I’ll talk to my folks, they’ll love that.”

Ridley looked in the rear-view mirror and found Alexia’s eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas, la Reina?”

“I’ll spend it with my family in Spain I think.”

“Ah.” Was the only response she gave, though Alexia saw a bit of melancholy behind her eyes and she looked back to the road.

Awkwardness out of the way, the rest of the hour-long drive was full of banter and YFN made sure to chat to Alexia and Ridley as much as possible. Alexia, because she was so close to Lucy and Ridley, because it had been far too long.

They were a little late and boarded their plane at the last minute, enjoying every second together. Lucy let YFN have the window seat and took her thigh in her hand, refusing to be parted from her. After being apart, they only had another twelve hours together and from the intensifying looks they shared, they were going to make the most of it.

Lucy had planned on cute lunches and dinners, beach dates and introductions to her team. Unfortunately, time hadn’t permitted that just yet. They arrived home and Narla was on them immediately as they entered, yapping away. YFN knelt down, letting her sniff her before she started to pat her. She followed them around as they settled their things into the bedroom and got changed into clothes for bed. Her energy didn’t last long though, as it was 10pm and dark. Narla went to sleep in her little bed in the living room while Lucy was still showing her around her apartment. It was cute, and typical Lucy. Modern, clean, bare necessities. YFN had a good chuckle at the amount of sneakers she had lined up around the walls in her bedroom. While Lucy unpacked, YFN explored two more rooms, one was a spare bedroom and one was full of boxes of trophies that Lucy had won over the years. She found one in particular that she’d seen in a photo at Lucy’s mum’s house. She remembered her mum showing her through the photo album and explaining that it had been the first trophy she’d won. She pulled it from the box and took it to the kitchen sink where she washed the dust from it and dried it.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked, joining her.

“The first trophy you won…I remember your mum telling me about it.”

Lucy picked up the trophy and looked it over before putting it back down on the counter and shaking her head. She took her girlfriend’s face in her hands gently and kissed her for the first time in a week. They moaned as they softened into each other, relishing the feel and taste of each other.

“Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Hm. Well you are pretty good with your mouth…”

“Oh?” She asked as her hands found her waist. “Tell me more.”

“I was talking about the compliments you give me. What were you talking about?” YFN replied cheekily.

“God I should have had sex with you in London.”

“It…wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Appropriate? Sex with us is always appropriate. I can fuck you when I want.”

Everything Lucy said triggered that horniness in her. YFN’s breath caught and she bit her lip.

Lucy’s eyes darkened and she moved her head closer to YFN’s, her thumb freeing her lip from her teeth.

“That’s mine. I didn’t say you could bite it.”

She turned towards the counter just to catch her breath, though Lucy liked her out of breath and out of control. They’d both been waiting far too long to be together again. According to their standards, of course. An hour was too long to be apart never mind a week. Lucy came behind her, trapping her between herself and the counter, her arms coming around her to slide under her shirt.

YFN tilted her head back, relishing the fact that she was shorter than her girlfriend as her lips found that soft flesh under Lucy’s chin and settled there. She freed one of her hands and slid it behind her and between their bodies, finding Lucy’s core and teasing her by rubbing her through her pants. Lucy groaned and rocked her hips, finding friction in her hand as she pressed YFN’s body back to her, trapping her teasing hand between them.

Lucy groaned again and pulled YFN’s hand out.

“Unfair.”

YFN sucked on that soft flesh sweetly as Lucy gripped her waist and rocked her hips into her girlfriend’s ass. YFN was in a mood, the same one Lucy tended to drag out of her often, and she braced against the counter, pushing her ass back into Lucy. Lucy gasped and her rocking turned into more of a grinding and she found that perfect spot she could feel through her pants. One of Lucy’s hands slid up the front of her shirt and grabbed her breast roughly, the other following suit shortly after as YFN’s back arched and her hand came up and over her shoulder, gripping the back of Lucy’s hair. Lucy’s mouth found the side of her neck and bit and sucked as a good reminder who was in charge. Her thumbs flicked over her nipples a few times as their little teasing gradually became more out of hand with each grind.

Lucy readjusted at one point and she had YFN bent over the counter, the cool surface hardening her nipples through her shirt as Lucy held the back of her neck down with one hand and her hip with the other. YFN couldn’t help but moan as Lucy’s leg manipulated hers apart further and she rocked her hips forward, grinding her hard into the counter. YFN loved this, the feeling of absolutely no control as Lucy made sure she knew who was in charge. YFN’s upper half moved against the cool countertop almost as if Lucy were actually fucking her.

Lucy leant forwards and kissed her back through her shirt.

“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?”

“I love teasing you…” she admitted and wriggled her ass under the pressure of Lucy’s pelvis, as if to prove a point. She did.

Lucy broke then and gripped one hand in her hair, pulling her torso back up like that, her back arched tight.

“Bed. Now.”

“No, Luce…”

That surprised Lucy. Her hand tightened in her hair and her mouth found her ear, biting the lobe before speaking into it.

“What.” It didn’t sound like a question, but it was. A challenge to say it again.

“P..please Luce.” She begged. “Please fuck me here first. I can’t make it to the bedroom yet.”

She wasn’t beyond begging at this point. Lucy was thinking. She could feel it and hear in it the way she breathed into her ear, like she was fighting herself.

“Please.” She begged again. “I’ve missed you. Please, then you can h…have me whatever way you want me.”

She felt Lucy shiver behind her. “You’re lucky I’m in a charitable mood.”

YFN shuddered as her core ached for Lucy. Yes. Yes.

She wriggled her shorts and underwear down for Lucy excitedly before she was again pressed back to the counter, her cheek and nipples finding that coolness. Lucy’s hand stayed in her hair, holding her down, while her other hand slid down the palm of her stunning ass, right down to where YFN was utterly desperate for her. Lucy’s fingertips touched lightly and noticed YFN’s core was soaked. Dripping. Clenching and unclenching around nothing.

Lucy groaned when she saw how desperate she was.

In any other scenario YFN would have been embarrassed, but here with her Lucy, she was happily surprised that she wasn’t.

“I missed you…” she whimpered again.

Lucy’s jaw locked at those words. She attempted to regain a modicum of self-control, but it was very, very difficult. She didn’t want to fuck around. She wanted to fuck the orgasm out of her so she could drag her to the bedroom and do all sorts of things to her into the early hours of the morning. She tightened her grip on her hair as she thrust two fingers in harshly. She knew her body could handle it. YFN cried out and her body jerked over the counter and then she moaned at the feeling.

“Yes!” This was exactly what she wanted. She’d missed the feeling of Lucy’s fingers. God, they filled her.

Lucy paused for a second, enjoying the desperate feel of YFN’s pussy clenching and unclenching around her fingers.

Then, she began a ruthless assault in and out, knowing it was exactly what she needed. YFN was so vocal, Lucy could barely hear the loud, wet noises of her fingers going in and out of her desperate girlfriend.

“Aaargh…argh yes! Yes! L…Luce! Thank you… argghh fuuuuuuck. Fuck me. Please don’t stop! Please, Luce!”

That encouraged Lucy to fuck her harder than she’d ever done before with her fingers as they slammed knuckle deep into her relentlessly, the pounding sound similar to the strap.

“Please don’t stop!” She cried desperately. “Please don’t stop! P…please! Argh! Lucy!”

Her body clenched tighter than it ever had done, Lucy barely able to move her fingers in and out. Every fibre in YFN’s body locked as she whimpered through that orgasm, Lucy fucking her through it.

Lucy found herself so turned on that she’d barely lasted thirty seconds under her. Oh, tonight was going to be great.

Lucy let her go and pulled her shorts back up.

“I did my job. Now you do yours.” YFN managed to get herself back upright and turn around to her girlfriend. Lucy took her jaw in one hand. “I want you naked and dripping by the time I get in there.”

Lucy had taken the edge off, but YFN was still in a mood, her eyes dark.

“Half done already.” She kissed Lucy’s surprised, horny face and ducked past her to the bedroom.

(To be continued…)

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zeroaddzero · 1 year ago

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Top 10 Horniest Bruce Springsteen songs, ranked

Yes there are more horny Bruce songs. Too many horny songs for one list. I don’t know if his game was good because he knew how to write horny songs, or if his game inspired him to write horny songs. Either way, we’ve been blessed musically with a lot of horny songs. Here’s the horny songs I managed to fit into a (very biased) list:

1. I'm On Fire

THE horny Bruce song. A fever fantasy of a wet dream smushed into one moaning, sweaty mess. Before I was a fan, this (coupled with the below performance) was the song that made me go "OH. I get it now."

Spotify LINK

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire

youtube

2. Pink Cadillac

About as subtle as Lady Gaga’s “Disco Stick.” Even better paired with the BITUSA tour intro (said intro got noticeably more sexual after Bruce got married in 1985).

Spotify LINK

They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple But man I an’t goin for that I know it was her pink Cadillac

youtube

3. Fire

Originally written for Elvis, the bass line alone for this #problematic 70s “don't play coy with me” number will make you reconsider feminism for 5 minutes. The 1986 performance is downright NSFW.

Spotify LINK

You had a hold on me right from the start A grip so tight I couldn't tear it apart

youtube

4. The Fever

Bruce is king of the “lying in bed thinking of how horny this person makes me” genre, and this is one of his finest examples. At almost 8 minutes, it’s the tantric equivalent to the more concentrated "I’m on Fire". Anybody noticing a “burning” theme here?

Spotify LINK

Well now the day grows longer The love just grows stronger, baby And the fever gets so bad at night I got the fever for the girl

youtube

5. Because The Night

Bruce never finished the lyrics, and this song arguably belongs to Patti Smith now. Bruce has even said as much. However, I am biased and enjoy this banger too much to let technicalities get in the way of horny. On the list it goes.

Spotify LINK

Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us

youtube

6. Red Headed Woman

I'm Going Down may seem raunchy until you realise it's about a bad breakup. For the other thing, we have this entry. Folks, this song is literally about eating pussy. Bruce even introduced it as such during his Ghost of Tom Joad tour. I’ve yet to recover from the whiplash of hearing him say the word “cunnilingus” while performing at his old Catholic high school.

Spotify LINK

Well listen up stud Your life's been wasted 'Til you've been down on your knees and tasted A red headed woman

youtube

7. She's The One

Speculated to have been written about the violinist who played on the album Born To Run, this tune shows our boy is down baaad. Best paired with the excellent "Mona" intro, which is included in the Houston '78 live performance below.

Spotify LINK

With her killer graces and her secret places That no boy can fill with her hands on her hips Oh and that smile on her lips Because she knows that it kills me

youtube

8. Part Man, Part Monkey

My Tunnel of Love tour knowledge is woefully lacking despite the tour being his most explicit, and the accompanying album being in my top 3. In the eyes of the public, Bruce was still with his first wife when this video was shot in 1988. Only the band knew he was recently separated, so imagine watching a presumably married man on stage eye-fucking his backup singer. The gossip mill must have been insane after each show.

Spotify LINK

Well the night is dark, the moon is full The flowers of romance exert their pull We talk awhile, my fingers slip I'm hard and crackling like a whip

youtube

9. Crush On You

Another genre this Jersey dude excels at is “horny to the point of funny.” Bruce himself has called it "the worst song we ever put on a record" but hey, what does he know.

Spotify LINK

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give 'Cause she's a walking talking reason to live

youtube

10. Cover Me

I just realised this is only one of four songs on this list included on an official Springsteen album (if you don't count the outtake compilations.) And how fitting it is to start and end this list with Paris '85 concert footage!

Spotify LINK

Now promise me baby you won't let them find us Hold me in your arms, let's let our love blind us Cover me, shut the door and cover me I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me

youtube

Honourable mentions (song/album):

Rosalita / The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle Candy's Room / Darkness on the Edge of Town Ramrod / The River Cindy / The River (outtakes) Ain’t got you / Tunnel of Love The Fuse / The Rising

Let me know if you think I missed any! I won't change the list, but more horny song discourse is always good.

#bruce springsteen #e street band #rock music #bruceposting #Youtube #long post

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frangipanilove · 1 month ago

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How TBOC 2x5 explain how Beth survived after 5x8 Coda

(And how Ash and Daryl deliver some of the season's finest Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels)

Spoilers for TBOC 2x5 and 2x6 below, beware!

Because this episode hasn’t aired yet, I’m not going to dwell on where we are in the plot, because it’s not terribly important in this context. This is mostly about some very specific Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels from 2x5 and 2x6, and I’ll just jump right into the narrative.

So, Daryl and Carol are out looking for Ash. He’s their pilot and obviously they need him to get home to the US. He was supposed to stay by the plane, but when they return to where it’s hidden, he’s “just gone”. They ask around, and get intel suggesting he might be at Maison Mere. They go there to search for him. They can’t find him immediately, but from a window they can see something that catches their attention:

Daryl remarks “there definitely someone in there”!

An image like this should scream “suspicious” to everyone who’s followed TD for any length of time. While all us TD’ers probably have our own individual theories on how Beth survived, there seem to be consensus around the fact that the trunk of a car would most likely be involved somehow. We’ve also seen from the flashbacks in 5x9 WHAWGO that they at some point were overwhelmed by walkers, so the theory was quickly formed that most likely, they initially meant to bury her, but were overrun by a walker horde, and had to leave her behind to escape the horde and save themselves. They put her in the trunk of a car, or inside the back of a car, with the intention of returning for her when the walker horde had passed. But when they did return, she was “just gone”.

I’ve previously written a bunch of theories around suspicious cars. I personally believe that officer Lichari’s Dodge Magnum could potentially be THE car she was put in, because we’ve had a lot of symbolism around Dodges, and we’ve seen a lot of symbolism around rams, which is the Dodge logo. We actually saw this symbolism at play as recently as in TBOC 2x1, when Carol misspoke and called a car a Dodge, while it definitely was a Ford Mustang (which are also cars steeped in resurrection symbolism, read more here).

Back to TBOC 2x5. Daryl and Carol decide to investigate the suspicious car that is swarmed by walkers. Our first hint of some serious Sirius symbolism ahead, is the dog eating walkers as Daryl comes through a tunnel on his way to the car. Beth’s is a Sirius figure on the show, and Sirius refers to the Dog Star that disappears from the night sky for a while, only to “resurrect” some time later. It’s resurrection symbolism.

Daryl approaches the car, systematically taking out the walkers. Carol is right behind him.

Once they make it inside, they find none other than Ash. Unconscious, but alive. He got knocked out when he hit his head on the car door.

Let me pause here for a minute. If you were tasked with writing a scene where an unconscious Ash in a car specifically were meant to represent Beth after Coda, and he needed some visible evidence of the cause of his unconscious state. Where would you place the head wound? Would you place it exactly where Beth got shot? Yes you probably would, wouldn’t you?

And if you were to further enhance the connection to Beth, would you have him say one of her iconic lines as he woke up? Again, yes, you probably would:

Carol is thrilled to find him alive. She offers a tentative diagnosis, which I believe very well could be the diagnosis Beth would have received after her close but not fatal encounter with a bullet in Coda:

And now they need to get out. They’re stuck in a car, which I’ve often likened to a tomb, because of the resurrection symbolism they’re surrounded by:

We see imagery which we’ve seen in scenes and episodes where there’s a heavy presence of Beth/resurrection symbolism...

…such as here from 5x9 WHAWGO (which I've written about here)

Which is interesting, because WHAWGO also happens to be the episode right after Beth was "killed" and supposedly placed in the trunk of a car. It's the episode where she was last seen, in a hallucination, playing a guitar:

...which again is super interesting, considering how in 2x6, Daryl randomly finds a guitar, in the trunk of a car no less...

I legitimately ugly cried during this scene. Give Norman all the awards! And just to have mentioned it; that guitar is brought home to the US...

Back to Daryl, Carol and Ash in the car/tomb. To be stuck in a tomb sounds ominous, had it not been for the fact that tombs sometimes have an “emergency exit”. Don’t believe me? Take it up with Jesus Christ, he’s the one who made escaping tombs trendy some 2000 years ago. Later, we’ve seen it countless times in TWDU, my favorite is this little sequence from 4x12 Still:

Beth and Daryl hide in a trunk (tomb) for the night while a walker horde passes by. When morning comes we watch Beth open the closed trunk (tomb) from the inside, and climb out, into the daylight. That’s car/tomb symbolism paired with resurrection symbolism, and just like this scene from TBOC 2x5 is a retelling of what happened after Coda, the scene from 4x12 Still foreshadowed what were to happen in Coda.

And luckily, Daryl, Carol and Ash’s car (tomb) has an "emergency exit":

This is also something we’ve seen before, back in 7x12 when Michonne and Rick had a similar type of experience with being stuck in a car(tomb) surrounded by walkers:

Later, Ash perhaps gives us an estimate of approximately how long Beth spent in the trunk of the car, or alternatively, how long it took for TF to return to the car to retrieve her:

And it turns out it’s no coincidence that it is Ash who is given the task of being the Beth proxy in episodes 5 and 6. After he’s been saved from the Coda-esque nightmare in the overrun car, they together prepare to leave France. Ash and Daryl go out in search of some extra spare parts for the plane. They start talking about children. As I’ve already mentioned briefly here, having kids and losing kids is the overarching theme throughout this entire season, and I maintain that this is the season where Daryl becomes a father. It’s a huge, groundbreaking development for him, something which makes the following even more astonishing.

Ash asks what happened to Laurent’s parents:

Daryl knows Ash once lost his son, and offers his condolences. He explains how he was there when Carol lost Sophia, and adds that it’s something he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

Then the Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels kicks into high gear:

And here we actually have Daryl, in TBOC 2x6, adding to Beth’s commentary from TWD 4x2 Infected:

…which in my opinion is a rather extraordinary thing. Did TPTB actually, in a roundabout way, sneak in a proper Bethyl conversation after all these years? Did Beth speak to Daryl from "beyond the grave", so to speak, and Daryl replied? Did Beth actually “speak” to Daryl as he's in the middle of the emotional process of becoming a father? Of all times to include this type of callback, they do it as Daryl is accepting the responsibilities of fatherhood?

And more importantly, why? Why would TPTB do something like that?

Because they’re preparing for her to return, that’s why.

That’s also why they threw in like 1500 super potent Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels in 2x2, which I wrote about in the Green(e)land post here. And as I mentioned, that was the episode with Daryl’s first ever onscreen kiss! His very first onscreen kiss is accompanied by a wide selection of exquisite Beth callbacks, and now they're out here (sort of) discussing parenthood???

And what's more, people, keep in mind that the Green(e)land storyline was PURE symbolism. It did absolutely nothing to move the plot forward, it was exclusively a tool for sprinkling a bunch of Beth references all over the kissy-episode. And again, we should all ask ourselves why!

(Having said that, I don’t think we should downplay his feelings for Isabelle. I’ll elaborate more in a different post, but I’ll say again that I don’t believe one relationship cancels out another. Love can take different forms between different people. He can love Isabelle in one way and Beth in a different way, and they’re both valid. But that’s for a different day.)

But basically, as I keep saying, TBOC is full of Beth callbacks and dialogue parallels, and like I've shown here, they're not chosen randomly.

#team delusional #bethyl #daryl dixon #beth greene #the walking dead #twd tboc #tboc #daryl dixon tboc #the book of carol #tboc spoilers

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siderealscribblings · 5 months ago

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Early access Games of Divinity Time: Timetheft Edition

The Chasm - Liyue

There were easier ways to break stone, but Zhongli found the rhythmic swing of a pick strangely therapeutic. The tinny tink-tink-tink of metal on rock mingled with the chatter from the other miners around him, all dressed in sweat-stained shirts and heavy work-boots the same as he was. Despite hauling and shattering entire mountains worth of rock, no one raised a complaint, even as the blistering sun began beating down on them. They were a good crew, even if they were unnerved by the soft-spoken young man that could splinter rocks the size of houses with a few well-placed strokes of his ax.

Perhaps they smell the blood on me, Zhongli thought, taking a swig from the wineskin on his hip and wiping his brow. War gods without wars were irrelevant, and while the Qixing still relied on his wisdom (such as it was) Zhongli found himself with too much time on his hands. Time that would be spent brooding if he didn’t put his hands to work doing something useful. It would be a while before he needed to fake his death and vanish for a few decades so those in Liyue Harbor didn’t grow suspicious and if he was going to live as a man, he was going to work as one as well.

“Hey, Z!” Zhongli craned his head up to see one of the other workers leaning over the edge of his pit some ten meters above him. “Chow-wagon is here; grab the Mora Meat before Lingyun runs off with the whole stack!”

“Screw off!” Came Lingyun’s reply from somewhere above him.

“Thank you; I’ll be up momentarily,” Zhongli sighed, waving his co-worker off. The sun was high in the sky; Cloud Retainer would no doubt be snacking on the finest food the Fontish could serve up while Zhongli was picking pebbles out of Mora Meat. It had been many years since he had been at another Archon’s banquet, but given that a rather prickly dragon shadowed the Hydro Archon, Zhongli thought better of attending in disguise.

Has the morning gotten away from me already? Zhongli thought, leaning against the wall of his hole and closing his eyes for a moment of peace. He tugged one of his gloves off, pressing a bare, scaled palm against the stone and sending a pulse of Geo energy throughout the earth beneath him. They were approaching a cave system with a rich vein of Cor Lapis; beneath that was remnants of the meteorite that had fallen ages ago. No good will come of that, Zhongli thought. Best to guide them away from the tunnels so they can-

Zhongli’s musing was interrupted by something brushing against his nose. He opened his eyes to see a large black and red butterfly flapping lazily on the tip of his nose, tiny feelers brushing against his forehead as he carefully pried it off his face. The smell of smoky, burning cherrywood hung in the air as it beat its wings, fluttering off Zhongli’s finger and landing on the handle of his pickaxe.

“Tell me you’re not here for any of my co-workers,” Zhongli said, watching as the butterfly exploded in a snap of flames, leaving a young woman with flowing brown hair in its place.

“Nah, I decided to come out and see how the God of Geo fares as a miner,” the adeptus said, brushing some ash off her coat. “But, you may want to let that guy stuffing eight Mora Meat in his mouth know that his life’s thread got a little bit shorter after the last one. I’m not a doctor—quite the opposite really—but he’s only like twenty five and dying that young from a heart-attack seems like a waste to me.”

“Shall I tell him the Unbound Flame revealed herself to me and told me his days were numbered?” Zhongli chuckled, glancing up to make sure no one was listening in. The young woman was known to many as the 57th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor (a title she conveniently inherited from a mortal relative when it suited her) but how she had appeared out of thin air was not a conversation Zhongli wanted to entertain.

“Tell him to eat a vegetable every once and a while or he’s going to be fitted for a pine box before he’s forty,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “How’s the side-gig treating you?”

“Alright…I enjoy doing physical labor more than I thought I would,” Zhongli shrugged. “I’ve had enough of splitting skulls so I thought I’d give splitting stone a try.”

“Shame; you’re good at splitting skulls,” the Unbound Flame said, hopping off the pick-ax. “Your skills might be needed sooner rather than later, in fact.”

“I should hope not,” Zhongli said. “...is there something I should know?”

“Besides the fact that you need a bath?” The Unbound Flame chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “...that Miko lady was in town the other day.”

“Ei’s girl?” Zhongli asked. “I imagine she’s heading up for Lady Furina’s birthday.”

“She was…but she wanted to talk to someone in charge and since Cloudy and Xiao are in Fontaine and you’re playing in the mud, she had to talk to me,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “Barbados wants to talk.”

“Yae Miko sent you to tell me that Barbados wants to talk?” Zhongli sniffed. “Why isn’t Barbados here to talk to me himself?”

“He’s in Fontaine at the moment,” the Unbound Flame said. “And he wants you to join him.”

“Of all the-” Zhongli shook his head. “That absurd little god needs to stay away from Fontaine; the last time I was there, I was run off by Focalors’ attack dragon.”

“Like you couldn’t have dusted him if you wanted,” the Unbound Flame huffed, lightly jabbing Zhongli in the shoulder. “You might want to hear what he has to say first.”

Zhongli’s brow furrowed as his companion fished a letter from her coat pocket and pressed it into Zhongli’s hands. Only one sentence was on the page, but Zhongli read it three times, his scowl deepening with each pass.

“...how does he know?” Zhongli asked quietly.

“I guess bards hear a lot of rumors,” the Unbound Flame said, her usual cheer muted as she watched him inspect the letter further. “Miko seems to think it’s legit.”

“Does Neuvillette know about this?” Zhongli asked, rubbing his eyes as he tossed the paper aside.

“If he did, the whole country would be up in arms,” the Unbound Flame said, folding her arms across her chest. “You know Barbados doesn’t pull his head out of a wine barrel unless things are serious.”

“And Xiao and Cloud Retainer are in the middle of all this…nonsense,” Zhongli growled. “...there is a chance I may make this worse. Neuvillette will distrust me if I tell him the sky is blue by virtue of the fact that I’m an usurper.”

“Well if he doesn’t trust at least one of us, he could have another dead Hydro Archon on his hands,” the Unbound Flame said. “And that’s not even the worst part; someone needs to go up there and swing his metaphorical spear around and since the Shogun isn’t up to the task-”

“I suppose it falls to me,” Zhongli sighed, rubbing his eyes. “...we could start another war.”

“Or prevent one,” the Unbound Flame reasoned. “Either way, should be a good time; I hear Fontish food is pretty good if you don’t mind snails and stinky cheese.”

“Something tells me we’re not making it to the Archon’s dinner table this time,” Zhongli said. “You’ll come with me.”

“Think you’ll need an undertaker?”

“If we need to bury a goddess, I can think of no finer mortician than someone from the ‘Hu’ family,” Zhongli said, kicking a shovel at her and watching her catch it. The withered wooden handle crackled as flames danced across the woman’s fingertips, turning red as fire consumed it. In the hands of the Unbound Flame, any piece of wood could become her Staff and as the fire died down, the shovel was replaced by a long wooden stick capped with a pair of ornate wings and a crimson jewel.

“I thought you were done being a war god,” the Unbound Flame teased, jabbing him in the side as Zhongli pulled his coat back on.

“After this, I am done,” Zhongli said for what must have been the hundredth time as he turned to climb the rickety ladder out of the pit as the Unbound Flame rode her staff out to the surface. “Let me bathe and we’ll be off.”

A distant boom followed by the sound of panicked screaming came from the far side of the chasm, a cloud of dust erupting from a nearby mine as men rushed out covered in dirt.

“Take your time…I have some work to wrap up here,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “Tell your boss that she lost three…no, four men. I’ll see them off before we go.”

Staff draped across her shoulders, she sauntered off, humming a cheerful funeral dirge to herself as she went to collect the souls of the fallen miners.

#writeblogging #the games of divinity #enter the unbound flame #wrote this instead of doing my bullshit job #fuck it im on top of my shit #nobody tell Ryan

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random-thot-generator · 10 months ago

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Thinking about dark knight!Ghost who is sent by King John to conquer a neighboring kingdom and bring him back a pretty princess to marry.

TW- Adult content below the cut. Brief violence, Sexual situations, Explicit sexual content

Notes: A long drabble(?) to purge this horny medieval brainworm from my head, so I can work on my other WIPS. Hope you enjoy my brainrot. Bone apple tea!

Dark knight Ghost, who sneaks in a small band of his personally trained men through the king's own escape tunnel in the wee hours of the morning. The entire castle guard is defeated by dawn, the king himself captured.

Dark knight Ghost, who corners the king in his chambers and under threat of death forces him to sign a decree, giving over the Princess' hand in marriage. The king's daughter is now betrothed to Ghost's sovereign lord, King John. He makes sure the wedding banns are posted throughout the surrounding kingdoms, cementing his king's claim on the princess.

Dark knight Ghost, who has also been tasked with delivering the bride-to-be to King John, but he ends up being duped by the crafty princess and her ladies-in-waiting, who dress you, her chambermaid, in one of her finest dresses, draping you in jewels and finery before handing you over to the frightening dark knight in your princess' stead.

Dark knight Ghost, who is only doing this odious task at his king's behest, but the gruff knight doesn't care to deal with a royal snobby brat. He's heard the stories about the Princess' terrible moods and tantrums and has already decided he will suffer none of it.

Dark knight Ghost, who can't reconcile the stories of the shrewish Princess with the shy, soft-spoken damsel now in his care. Thinking you are trying to play him for a fool, his treatment of you is gruff, manhandling you and barking orders at you until tears well up in your eyes and you cringe away in fright. If he happens to feel guilty for scaring you and making you cry, he never lets it show, but he refrains from doing it again; he honestly can't bear to see you shrink away from him.

Dark knight Ghost, who is irritated when his younger knights, Sirs Kyle and Johnny, fawn over you, dressing them down for their unseemly behavior even though he himself can't deny that your sweet smile, soft voice and big doe-eyes are a constant distraction. He can't get you back to King John fast enough.

Dark knight Ghost, who insists on accompanying you himself when you bathe. He tries to be chivalrous and keep his back turned, but after catching a glimpse of your naked, wet curves shimmering in the sunlight, he now blatantly watches you bathe from the bank, much to your mortification. He takes particular delight in ordering you out of the river, just to watch your nude form rise from the water like Aphrodite from the waves.

Dark knight Ghost, who begins to grow jealous of his knights, Kyle and Johnny, who he has ordered to guard you while traveling. The pair of them are too bloody charming for their own good, making your cute little giggles ring in his ears and harden his cock. He ends up having to call a halt for rest, just to relieve the heaviness of his aching balls, leaving a copious amount of his seed on the trunk of an ancient oak.

Dark knight Ghost, who 'discovers' the following morning that your royal mount is now gone, apparently "stolen by vagabonds" while most of the camp was asleep. He admonishes the men on guard duty for not keeping a sharper eye, but leaves it at that, uncharacteristically lenient, for a change. He does insist that you ride his destrier with him for the rest of the journey, however.

Dark knight Ghost, who makes you sleep by his side when camp is set every night, because he likes waking in the predawn hours to find you cuddled up in his arms. He now pulls you close before you even fall asleep, pulling your back into his chest before settling his big hand on your belly, telling you it's the pommel of his short sword that's poking you in the back.

Dark knight Ghost, who doesn't realize how hard he's truly fallen for you until highway bandits attack them on the forest road and steal you away. He decides in that instant he'll kill anyone who stands between him and his sweet princess.

Dark knight Ghost, who will stop at nothing to get you back, so tracks down the thieves to their den hidden deep in the forest and slaughters them all for daring to lay a finger on his woman. The cowardly bandit who pressed his blade to your throat and drew a bead of blood dies a particularly brutal death, Ghost relishing the sound of the bastard choking on his own blood.

Dark knight Ghost, who can no longer keep his feelings hidden, ripping his helmet off and kissing you amidst the carnage, swearing an oath to give his own life to protect you. His hold is possessive as he carries you back to his destrier and sits you in front of him, hands wandering over your body as he lets his horse pick its way back to camp.

Dark knight Ghost, who stops at an inn to give you a proper rest while his men camp outside of town. He demands the best room in the inn for his Princess. There is only the one bed, and though he offers to sleep on the floor, you won't allow it. What finally breaks his will to deny you is when you look up at him with those soulful eyes and soft, trembling lips, whispering, "I cannot sleep without you now, my lord. Please, come to bed."

Dark knight Ghost, who strips down to his tunic and climbs into bed with his king's betrothed, knowing full well he's already done enough to warrant his own execution, but still pulls you close in the darkness as a shudder runs through his body. When his lips meet yours, he is well and truly lost.

Dark knight Ghost, who feels your soft hands tracing the many scars underneath his tunic— on his back, on his chest, even the ones on his face, and leans into your touch instead of away, letting his own hands explore the intimate parts of your body that he has denied himself for too long.

Dark knight Ghost, who has never wanted a woman more than he wants you and can't stop himself from climbing on top of you to kiss your soft lips while his hand delves between your legs to find you wet and wanting. He drinks long and deep from your cup, making you squirm and beg, but for what you do not know.

Dark knight Ghost, who can no longer bear to listen to your soft little whines and moans, can no longer deny his need for you, so settles himself between her trembling thighs and eases his engorged cock into your virgin cunt, finally claiming you for his own. If he had to die a thousand deaths to experience this one moment with you, he would gladly receive the killing blade into his heart over and over again.

Dark knight Ghost, who takes you again and again throughout the night, insatiable for you, your cries of his name echoing down the narrow, creaking corridors of the inn. If his fellow knights happen to overhear, Kyle and Johnny do not mention it the following morning.

Dark knight Ghost, who smirks smugly under his helm when you can barely sit a horse the next day. He stops midday to take you to "bathe" at the river, soothing your sore cunt with his tongue. He lays you out on the soft grass of the riverbank, his head buried between your legs for the better part of an hour, still in his full armor, your cum painting his face. He doesn't think he's ever tasted anything sweeter; he would happily drown in you, unable to imagine a better death.

Dark knight Ghost, who begins to drag out the journey, no longer eager to return to King John's court. He's never shirked his duty to his king, but this time he is sorely tested. He knows if the king learns that his most trusted knight has deflowered his betrothed, he may well kill you both, so your dark knight insists that you say he forced you if your illicit affair is discovered. You refuse, much to his irritation, but also to his secret delight. You are well and truly his, no matter what fate has in store for you.

Dark knight Ghost, who finally arrives at King John's castle, feeling sick down to his very soul as he leads you into the throne room to greet your future husband and king. He watches with a heavy heart as you demure before the king, bowing in a deep curtsy, hand laid over your fluttering heart.

Dark knight Ghost, who frowns in confusion when King John barks out a laugh and waves a hand at you, the so-called Princess. "This is not the princess, Sir Ghost," King John informs him. He sniffs in amusement. "Should have known the little minx would pull something like this. You've been duped, Sir knight, by no fault of your own. I will have to retrieve the stubborn wench myself, I suppose, show her who her future husband really is."

Dark knight Ghost, who glares at you while you stare down at your fidgeting hands, biting your lip in that way that drives him bloody mad with lust. He seizes your arm in his grip, his cock twitching beneath his armor when you let out a squeak of fright. "An' what o' this one, my king? What shall I do with her?"

Dark knight Ghost, whose eyes go half-lidded and dark when the king grants him permission to interrogate this false princess for information about the king's true betrothed. He can keep you as his servant, the king tells him, if you're still alive once the interrogation is over. This is said only to frighten you, of course, but there's no need to tell you that just yet.

Dark knight Ghost, who is already planning on marrying you once all this Princess business is finally done and over, but he isn't about to tell you that just yet, either. He finds that he very much likes the way you tremble in his hands. He's most eager to begin your 'interrogation'. "Don't worry, my Liege. I know just what t'do t'make her sing like a li'l bird." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Ain't tha' right, Princess?"

Good King!John drabble (sequel)

#brainworm drabble #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #dark knight!ghost #ghost cod

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ltash · 5 months ago

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Venom

Part 3 "Anastasia Romanov"

Ghost x female OC

Warnings: Very Dark themed, mentions of murder and blood, dark sadist Ghost.

You are taking me to Makarov, Anastasia.

No. I am going to hell Simon Riley and I am taking you with me.

"Don't underestimate her. She may be small, but she's a feisty little thing."

Moscow, Russia

Anastasia sat in her small Moscow apartment, the patter of heavy rain against the window providing a rhythmic backdrop to her thoughts.

At just 21 years old, she had become Vladimir Makarov's right hand, a trusted lieutenant in his shadowy world. Despite Makarov's elusive nature and unknown whereabouts, he maintained contact with Anastasia, serving as a surrogate father figure in her life after she had tragically lost her parents at the tender age of 15.

Makarov had guided her into the Russian Ultranationalist party, where she underwent rigorous training and emerged as one of their top agents.

As she sat in her small apartment, Anastasia couldn't shake the image of Makarov's face, lit by the cold glow of the tunnel's lights, his expression a mix of triumph and menace. He had relayed the news to her with a chilling calmness that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I killed Soap," Makarov had said, his voice resonating with a deadly pride. "One of their finest. A young lad with a bright future, now extinguished."

Anastasia had known of Soap McTavish, a sergeant among the Task Force members, revered for his skills and leadership. His death was not just a tactical victory for Makarov but a symbolic blow to their enemies—a demonstration of power and ruthlessness that defined their brutal conflict.

As she stared out into the rain-soaked streets of Moscow, Anastasia wrestled with conflicting emotions. The thrill of victory mingled with the weight of guilt and remorse. She knew that in their world, there was little room for sentimentality or second-guessing. Survival and success demanded unwavering commitment, even in the face of moral ambiguity.

The rain continued to fall, a relentless drumbeat against the windowpane. In the silence of her apartment, Anastasia prepared herself for the next mission, the next test of her loyalty to Makarov and the Ultranationalist cause.

The buzzing and ringing of her phone jolted Anastasia out of her trance. Her heart raced as she glanced at the screen, recognizing the number immediately. Her hands trembled as she answered the call, bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello, my dear," Makarov's voice came through, speaking in Russian with that familiar mix of authority and charm.

"Hello, Makarov," Anastasia replied, her voice steadying as she took a deep breath. "It's been a while."

"Yes, it has," he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "I hope you're ready for what comes next. We have important work to do."

"Always," she responded, her loyalty clear in her voice. "What do you need?"

Makarov's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "There's a target I need you to eliminate. He's been a thorn in our side for too long."

"Who is it?" Anastasia asked, already mentally preparing herself for the mission.

"Ghost," Makarov said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Simon Riley. He's working as a mercenary now, a ruthless killer. He used to be a soldier, but that part of him is long gone. We can't afford to let him interfere any longer. I want you to find him and finish the job."

Anastasia's heart skipped a beat. She had heard stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley, the infamous operative who had once been a member of Task Force 141. His reputation for ruthlessness preceded him, a far cry from the disciplined soldier he had once been.

"There are no pictures of him," Makarov continued. "But you will recognize him by his skull mask. He's extremely deadly, Anastasia. He could kill you without a second thought, so you must be extremely careful."

"Understood," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I'll take care of it."

"We've arranged an apartment for you in the same building he lives in," Makarov added. "Get close to him, gain his trust, and then execute him swiftly."

"Consider it done," Anastasia replied.

The call ended, leaving Anastasia staring at her phone, her mind racing. She had a mission, a directive from the man who had been her guiding force for years. But now, the lines between loyalty and morality were blurred.

The next day, Anastasia found herself on a flight to Manchester. The dossier Makarov had provided included everything she needed to know about Simon Riley’s current whereabouts. As she arrived at the nondescript apartment building, she noted how perfectly it blended into its surroundings—a fitting place for a man trying to live under the radar.

The apartment she had been provided was modest but functional, directly across the hall from Simon Riley's. She moved in quickly, arranging her belongings and preparing herself for the task ahead. The plan was simple: get close, earn his trust, and then strike when he least expected it.

Anastasia entered the apartment building with her suitcases, taking in her new surroundings. Manchester wasn't cold like Russia, but the air carried a damp chill that clung to her skin. She walked through the lobby, noting the modern decor and the warmth that radiated from the newly built structure. The building was cozy, a stark contrast to the harsh environments she was accustomed to.

She made her way to the hallway where her apartment was located, her steps echoing softly on the polished floor. The air was tinged with the faint smell of fresh paint and new carpets. She reached her door, her mind racing with the details Makarov had provided. She didn’t know exactly which apartment belonged to Simon Riley, but based on her intel, it was adjacent to hers.

Unlocking her door, she stepped inside and took a moment to survey the space. It was modest but comfortable, furnished with all the necessities she would need to blend in and execute her mission. She set her suitcases down and began unpacking, methodically arranging her belongings while her mind stayed focused on the task ahead.

Later that evening, as she finished settling in, she decided to take a walk around the building to familiarize herself with the layout. She left her apartment and turned right, walking past several doors until she reached the one next to hers. She paused for a moment, her heart beating a little faster. This could be it—the apartment of the infamous Ghost, Simon Riley.

She continued down the hallway, noting the emergency exits and the location of the stairs and elevators. The more she knew about her surroundings, the better prepared she would be.

After unpacking and settling in, Anastasia decided to get a view of the city. She needed to clear her head and assess her surroundings further. Manchester was different from the sprawling, frigid expanse of Russia. It was a smaller city, yet bustling with activity. People moved briskly through the streets, a mix of locals and tourists contributing to the vibrant atmosphere.

Stepping out of the building, she felt the wind tug at her long red hair, causing it to wave behind her. She took a deep breath, the damp air filling her lungs as she glanced around, searching for a place to get a drink. While she wasn't an avid drinker, she found herself occasionally enjoying a drink to unwind, especially when she had much on her mind.

Walking down the street, she noticed a quaint pub tucked away on a quieter side street. The warm light spilling out from its windows and the faint sound of laughter and conversation drew her in. She approached the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. The atmosphere was cozy and inviting, a stark contrast to the tension she had been feeling.

She made her way to the bar, slipping onto a stool and catching the bartender's eye. "What can I get you?" he asked, his voice friendly.

"A glass of wine, please," she replied, offering a small smile.

As she waited for her drink, she let her gaze wander around the pub. People were gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing. It was a scene of normalcy that felt almost foreign to her after the years of intense training and missions. When the bartender returned with her wine, she took a sip, savoring the moment of tranquility.

Her thoughts drifted back to Simon Riley.

As she sat there, contemplating her next move, she felt a presence beside her. She turned to see a man, perhaps in his late thirties, with a kind smile. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the empty stool next to her.

"Go ahead," she replied, curious about the stranger.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Ghost checked out of his hotel room and made his way back to his apartment after finishing his mission. The execution of the mafia boss had been swift and clean, just as he preferred. His movements were practiced and deliberate, the guitar-shaped sniper case slung over his strong shoulder blending in with the urban landscape.

When he reached his apartment building, he turned the key in the lock but something caught his eye. The light in the apartment across from his was on. It had been empty for quite a while, and he hadn't expected anyone to move in while he was away.

His eyes narrowed, and he cursed under his breath. "Fucking hell." The thought of having a new neighbor, an unexpected visitor, every now and then was unwelcome. He thrived on solitude and the ability to come and go without scrutiny.

Setting his things inside his apartment, he tried to relax. But the familiar tension wouldn't leave him. He felt the need for a drink, something strong to take the edge off. "Hell, I could murder for a whiskey now," he muttered to himself.

Without wasting time, he swapped his skull mask for a more discreet balaclava and threw on his usual attire—hoodie and sweatpants. It was a look that allowed him to blend into the background, just another faceless figure in the night.

He exited the building and headed to the nearest pub. It was a small, unassuming place where he could disappear into the crowd. He entered the dimly lit space, scanning the room out of habit before approaching the bar.

"Kentucky, straight," he ordered, his voice low and gravelly.

The bartender nodded and poured him a generous measure of bourbon. Ghost took the glass, finding a secluded corner where he could sit with his back to the wall, a clear view of the entrance. He took a sip, the fiery liquid burning a path down his throat, grounding him in the moment.

As he drank, his thoughts drifted back to the mission, replaying every detail to ensure there were no loose ends. He was meticulous by nature, every action calculated and deliberate. His mind then wandered to the new neighbor. He hadn't seen who it was yet, but he would soon enough. He needed to be aware of his surroundings, and anyone new was a potential threat until proven otherwise.

His eyes scanned the room absently, noting the faces and the exits. It was a habit ingrained in him from years of living on the edge. He saw a few regulars, but no one paid him any mind, just the way he liked it.

As he nursed his drink, a flash of red hair caught his attention. A woman sat at the bar, talking to a man. She seemed relaxed, her laugh genuine, a stark contrast to his own guarded demeanor. He dismissed her as just another patron until she turned slightly, and he got a better look at her face.

The red-haired girl was beautiful, to say the least. Her big blue eyes shone in the dim light of the dingy pub, and small freckles adorned her face, adding a touch of innocence. She looked very young, possibly in her early twenties. As Ghost observed her, he couldn't help but notice the way her presence lit up the otherwise gloomy room.

The boy who was talking to her was just another bloke, trying to charm her. Ghost recognized the type instantly. "Huh! Fucker," he cursed under his breath, knowing exactly what the guy was after. He had seen it countless times before—guys trying to sweet-talk their way into a woman's bed.

But then, Ghost wasn't much different. One-night stands had always been his go-to, a way to use women and throw them away like tissue paper. He was fond of it, the detachment and simplicity it offered. Emotions were messy and complicated, and he preferred to keep things straightforward.

As he watched the interaction between the red-haired girl and the boy, he felt a strange sense of irritation. He wasn't used to caring about such things, but something about the girl intrigued him. Maybe it was the way she held herself, confident yet approachable, or perhaps it was the hint of mystery she exuded.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

"I'm Jack," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

"Anastasia," she responded, shaking his hand.

They struck up a conversation, and Anastasia found herself relaxing a bit more. Jack was a local, and he shared stories about the city and its history, providing her with useful information about her new environment. As they talked, she kept an eye on the time, aware that she needed to stay focused on her mission.

After finishing her drink, she thanked Jack for the company and stood to leave. "It was nice meeting you," she said, offering him a genuine smile.

"Likewise," Jack replied. "If you ever need a tour guide, you know where to find me."

As Anastasia stood to leave the pub, she moved towards the door just as it swung open, revealing two imposing figures. They were rough-looking men, their faces hardened by years of disregard for civility.

"Excuse me," Anastasia said calmly, trying to pass between them.

"What's the rush, sweetheart?" one of them leered, reaching out to grab her wrist with a meaty hand.

"Come sit with us," the other sneered, his breath reeking of alcohol and stale cigarettes.

Anastasia felt the grip tighten around her wrist, her heart racing with a mix of anger and caution. These were the kind of men she had dealt with countless times before—brutes who thought they could exert their will on anyone they pleased. In her line of work, she had learned to make people like them taste their own medicine, but creating a scene here could attract unwanted attention and jeopardize her mission.

"Let me go, please," she pleaded, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The man holding her wrist only laughed, a cruel sound that echoed in the dimly lit pub. His companion grinned maliciously, clearly enjoying the situation.

Anastasia's mind raced. She assessed her options quickly, weighing the risks. Fighting back now could escalate things, drawing unwanted scrutiny. She needed a way out without compromising her cover or exposing herself.

With a calm demeanor, she tried reasoning one last time. "I don't want any trouble. Just let me go," she said firmly, locking eyes with the man holding her.

The tension in the air was palpable. Other patrons glanced over curiously, sensing the brewing conflict. Anastasia kept her composure, her mind racing through scenarios and escape routes.

"Leave her the fuck alone. You motherfucker," the voice growled, slicing through the air with a husky, raspy British accent. It was a voice that commanded attention, filled with a raw intensity that made even the rowdiest patrons at the bar pause and turn to see what was happening.

The two men who had accosted Anastasia froze , their eyes widening as they turned to face the figure behind her. Slowly, she pivoted on her heel to see him for herself.

He towered over her, almost a foot and a half taller, his presence imposing and commanding. Piercing brown eyes stared out from behind a skull-printed balaclava, giving him an air of mystery and danger. He was dressed in dark, nondescript clothing that hinted at a life lived on the edge.

"And who the fuck you think you are?" one of the men snarled, his grip tightening painfully around Anastasia's wrist. She winced, feeling the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin.

"Your worst nightmare," the figure replied, his voice low and cold, each word laced with a promise of retribution.

"You know who I am?" the man barked, his bravado faltering slightly in the face of the stranger's imposing demeanor.

Without hesitation, he moved with lightning speed. In one swift motion, he seized the man's head and slammed it down onto the bar with bone-crushing force.

A sickening crack echoed through the pub as his teeth shattered and blood sprayed across the counter. Before the man could react, Ghost struck again, this time driving the man's nose into the hard surface. The counter splattered with blood.

The bar erupted into chaos as screams and shouts filled the air.

Anastasia recoiled in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. She had seen violence before, but the sheer brutality of Ghost's response left her breathless. She watched in a mix of horror and awe as Ghost stood over the subdued man, his chest heaving with controlled rage.

The second man, sensing the danger, released his grip on Anastasia and stumbled back, his hands raised in surrender. He exchanged a fearful glance with his companion before hastily retreating from the scene, disappearing into the crowd of panicked patrons.

Ghost remained unmoved, his gaze sweeping over the bar as silence settled over the chaos he had unleashed. His balaclava obscured his face, masking any emotion that might lie beneath. Slowly, he turned to look at Anastasia, who stood trembling before him.

"Are you alright?" His voice, still raspy but softer now, held a hint of concern.

Anastasia nodded slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

Her gaze locked with Ghost's intense brown eyes, and for a fleeting moment, everything around them seemed to freeze. There was an undeniable pull between them, a magnetic force that drew her in despite the chaos and danger that had just unfolded.

But fear surged through her veins, overpowering any curiosity or attraction she felt. Without a second thought, she turned and ran. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted through the deserted streets, every step echoing the urgency of her escape.

"Was he the one she came after?" Her mind raced.

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someartistsammy · 5 months ago

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FF7 Rebirth: All Region Intel

Wanted to make a way to easily access & read all the world/region intel you can get in Rebirth so here's a giant post for that. Everything below the cut.

GRASSLANDS

Kalm: A Recent History

This humble town serves as a transport hub for the grasslands, hence the distinctive bailey built for the monitoring of commercial and private traffic. During the war with the Republic of Junon, Shinra saw fit to occupy Kalm, due to its stout fortifications and strategic value, and it has remained under company control ever since.

As it lacks a reactor of its own, Kalm is reliant on Midgar and its pipelines for a steady supply of mako, which is stored in a large tank for regulated use. This arrangement allows the residents to enjoy both modern conveniences and a healthy environment—a combination that has attracted many new residents of late.

Ten years ago, a significant portion of the town was “damaged,” though Shinra quickly intervened and carried out a comprehensive reconstruction effort. Details regarding the incident and the extent of the destruction are sparse.

Flora and Fauna of the Grasslands

In stark contrast to the barren, mako-ravaged outskirts of Midgar, the ecosystem of the grasslands remains relatively unscathed. Streams flowing from the central mountain range nourish the lush meadows below, which sustain a diverse range of species. Ranchers and farmers also benefit greatly from this bountiful environment.

Vast wetlands make up much of the southern region. In days past, boats and chocobo carriages were a common sight, but as most goods are now transported by sea or air, traffic through the wetlands has steadily decreased. Moreover, as an immense, man-eating serpent dubbed Midgardsormr has been sighted in this area of late, few dare to brave the old trails. Even those capable of evading the gargantuan snake may yet fall victim to one of the many inescapable quagmires.

The Mythril Mine: Changing with the Times.

A natural passage through the mountains between Junon and the grasslands, this mine has long served as a rich source of mithril. The mineral boasts an exquisite shimmer and remarkable strength, and was historically used to fashion the very finest weapons and armor, but it fell out of favor after Shinra developed superior synthetic materials.

After the mine was closed, the Republic of Junon converted it into a tunnel for the general public, allowing travel to and from the grasslands. The glistening mithril deposits drew regular sightseers as well. Following Shinra’s triumph over the republic, however, the tunnel has been effectively abandoned. Various sections have fallen into disrepair, and the depths are host to untold dangers.

JUNON REGION

The Rise and Fall of the Republic of Junon

The people of Junon were once largely seafarers, who only returned to the shore to peddle the bounty of the ocean. Unlike other communities that settled in a single location and gradually expanded their territory, these sailors preferred the freedom of the open sea, and over time banded together with like-minded souls to form a unique society.

As a republic, they repurposed a flotilla of large vessels to construct a floating city that would serve as the center of their trade network. Having forged a robust infrastructure, they then set their sights on uniting the disparate peoples of the world.

Though Junon ushered in an era of economic and cultural prosperity, it was not to last. Shinra’s revolutionary mako technology put paid to their ambitions, and their once proud city now slumbers beneath the waves.

Junon: The Fortress City

Having conquered the Republic of Junon, Shinra constructed a nigh-impregnable fortress on the coast in the heart of their enemy’s former territory. Powered by the world’s only underwater mako reactor and equipped with a colossal cannon capable of firing as far as Wutai, the stronghold resembles a vast battleship, risen from the deep to defend the eastern continent.

Junon is a city composed of multiple levels, each of which is lined with uniform buildings that were originally designed to serve the needs of military personnel. After the war with Wutai, some were converted into hotels and retail outlets, and the arbor and airport now see a constant stream of civilian visitors.

Military exercises are still conducted frequently, however, and should the need arise, defense countermeasures can be deployed at a moment’s notice, transforming the city in to a fortress, ready to repel would-be invaders.

COREL REGION

Costa del Sol: A Recent History

Though Costa del Sol is now a renowned beach resort, it was once home to a string of humble fishing villages. However, when relations between Shinra and the Republic of Junon began to deteriorate, Shinra annexed this portion of the coast. After the war, the company designated the area for redevelopment, transforming it into the must-visit location for avid sunseekers that it is today.

Costa del Sol offers vacation packages to suit any budget, allowing travelers from every corner of the globe to savor the idyllic beaches. Plans that include a trip to the Gold Saucer have proven particularly popular.

Corel: A Tale of Decline

Coal was in high demand in the days of the republic, and the wealth of Mt. Corel drew miners from far and wide. Though the work was hard and dangerous, the laborers banded together to overcome their difficulties, forming a close-knit community in the process.

Alas, the advent of mako saw the price of coal plummet, spelling disaster for the people of Corel. As they struggled to find a way forward, Shinra proposed the construction of a mako reactor, and after much debate, the villagers accepted the offer.

The reactor was constructed with astonishing haste, but just prior to being brought online, it was torn apart by an immense explosion, and has been left in ruins ever since.

The Rise of the Gold Saucer

The tale of the Gold Saucer began with a Shinra employee named Dio, who convinced the company to build a museum called the Reliquary. Although it was doomed to failure, Dio was not to be deterred, and he set about founding the world’s largest theme park, which he first conceived as a small-scale fairground.

In the wake of the Corel Mako Reactor explosion four years ago, plans were set in motion to revitalize the local economy. Hearing this, Dio decided to relocate his fairground to the region, eventually transforming it into a state-of-the-art entertainment complex.

Now known as the Gold Saucer, it is powered by several modular reactors, which are responsible for the surrounding area’s accelerated desertification. In light of this, the reactors are now run at minimum output, in an attempt to mitigate further damage to the environment.

GONGAGA REGION

Gongaga: A Recent History

In ancient times, Gongaga was settled by descendants of the Cetra, who lived in quiet seclusion. The region was largely ignored by later kingdoms and empires, until the Republic of Junon thought to expand its influence westward. They soon discovered, though, that the expense of establishing trade routes through such dense jungle far outweighed the benefits of reaching the small communities there, and elected to instead construct an airstrip and little else.

When war erupted between the republic and Shinra, people the world over were impacted to varying degrees. Those in Gongaga were the rare exception, as being so far removed from the theater of war meant that they were not subject to forced conscription, nor were their villages ever host to the bloodshed.

Life in Gongaga

The village of Gongaga lies at the heart of the humid jungle, where many species of moss, fern, and mushroom thrive. Its people have a long tradition of self-sustenance, growing only enough produce and raising only enough livestock to support their collective. Though the village is by no means commercially enterprising, the Gongaga mushroom endemic to the region is renowned for its rich aroma, and commands a high price.

Gongaga’s fortunes took a turn for the worse following an explosion at the nearby mako reactor. Though much of the jungle was temporarily declared a disaster area, due to its elevation position, the village itself escaped the worst of the fallout—a small mercy considering the devastation wrought below.

The Gongaga Mako Reactor Incident

First generation mako reactors based on the one built in Nibel are prone to malfunction due to flaws in the pressurization system’s design. This, however, did not deter Shinra from installing them at various locations throughout the world, including Gongaga.

The company’s failure to follow their own inspection and maintenance procedures led to a disastrous explosion which claimed the lives of many villagers. Acknowledging its part in the incident, Shinra dedicated a monument to the victims.

This accident was not an isolated occurrence, though, as at least one other reactor is known to have exploded in a similar fashion. Stranger yet, Shinra has been investigating alleged sightings of gigantic life-forms known as “Weapons” near the remains of these destroyed mako reactors.

COSMO CANYON REGION

Cosmo Canyon: Environmental Conditions

Cosmo Canyon is located in the south of the western continent, where countless valleys and caverns have formed in the red clay. In ages past, seismic activity forced this soil to the surface, where it was later eroded by the surging lifestream below, giving the region its unique appearance.

Throughout the year, the canyon sees very little rainfall, and the temperature variation between the plateaus and gorges is considerable. As such, it is extremely difficult to grow crops, and the mere act of survival is a daily struggle. Nevertheless, the canyon is a prime destination for students of planetology. In addition to scholars and devotees, many tourists can also be found here, seeking to take in the “mystical” air. In more practical terms, the arid conditions and lack of cloud cover facilitate the observation of celestial bodies, making the canyon popular among astronomers.

Life in Cosmo Canyon

The founders of the canyon’s eponymous village made use of the naturally formed caves, and following the emergence of planetology, more and more people found themselves drawn to the place. The makeshift walkways and tent-like domiciles have only increased in number as the settlement continues to expand to this day.

Rather than rely on mako, the villagers built an array of windmills, and each home is equipped to store the generated electricity. A leading planetologist, Bugenhagen, introduced this form of wind power to Cosmo Canyon, and it is said his technical marvel was inspired by the ways of the Cetra.

When it comes to nutrition, the villagers’ diet consists mainly of grain and legumes grown around the village, supplemented by game meat obtained with traditional hunting methods.

The Cetra and the Gi

In the distant past, the Cetra made contact with the Gi, entities who could not return to the lifestream. Pitying their plight, the Cetra build altars to commune with and calm these tormented souls in the hope of finding a means to coexist peaceably.

Over time, the Cetra grew increasingly aware of the dire fate that would befall the planet, and resolved to entrust their knowledge to the people of Cosmo Canyon. These teachings would become the foundation of planetology, which continues to be refined through research and discourse even as it is spread throughout the world.

When the Cetra finally departed Cosmo Canyon, none remained to provide solace to the Gi, who in their festering anguish and rage were driven to turn on the villagers. Many brave warriors gave their lives to beat back these vengeful spirits, entombing them in their prison once more.

NIBEL REGION

Mt. Nibel and the Birth of Mako Energy

It is said that beyond the desolate, jagged crags of Mt. Nibel lies the land of the dead, and few dare to approach its slopes. Indeed, even plant life struggles to find a foothold here, and with tumbling boulders and rockslides a constant threat, the locals see little reason to make such a perilous journey.

Many of the mountain’s caves are filled with mako vapor, and the inner reaches contain mako springs and naturally formed materia. Shinra’s search for a new energy source led them to Mt. Nibel, and its abundant supply of mako made it the ideal site for the world’s first reactor.

Although it played an instrumental role in the proliferation of mako energy, the Nibel reactor’s time in the spotlight was brief, and it now operates at greatly reduced capacity.

Nibelheim: A Recent History

In the shadow of the jagged formations at the foot of Mt. Nibel, the village of Nibelheim had little to offer the outside world. However, their quiet existence would change dramatically with Shinra’s discovery of vast reserves of mako within the mountain.

The company’s efforts began with the construction of Shinra Manor on a plot of leased land. It was there that the head of Research and Development, Professor Gast, and his assistant, Professor Hojo, pioneered studies on mako and Jenova.

Shinra’s financial investment delivered the people of Nibelheim from poverty. Their newfound happiness and prosperity would be short-lived, though, as the entire village was burned to the ground and countless innocents slaughtered by Sephiroth.

A perfect reconstruction of Nibelheim was later erected on the site in secret, and now serves as a treatment center for victims of mako poisoning.

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