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sinisterexaggerator · 6 months ago

Text

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

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Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren. Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company.

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends.

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment.

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action.

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.”

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you.

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around.

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed.

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high.

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part.

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger.

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth.

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner.

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose.

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose.

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable.

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds.

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints.

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud.

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown.

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life.

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin.

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance.

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm.

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes.

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center.

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl.

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit.

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it.

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings.

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time.

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption.

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin.

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking.

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again.

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips.

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous.

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection.

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return.

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss.

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

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andy-wm · 3 months ago

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I’ve just been listening to a podcast about the fabric of reality, and came on here for a bit of downtime. And lo and behold, you’re talking about reality and time passing, and that’s exactly it.

No matter what we think, no matter what we say, or theorise or claim, we don’t alter the truth, and that stands for everything that doesn’t pertain to us.l and our own lives.

I can think the earth is flat till the cows come home (I don’t, obviously) but that doesn’t alter reality.

Same goes for Jimin and JKs relationship. I’ve seen people claim wild theories, bending and stretching to reach conclusions far outweighing a k drama or blockbuster movie, whereas I personally, think mundanely and simply, that they are together.

Whose right? We don’t know.

That’s the truth. We don’t know.

We may never know, we may find out one day?.

I’m saying this with a smile on my face because that’s the beauty of life right, as long as we are not harming others, or coming into others spaces and shouting. As long as we aren’t being disrespectful to others, and to Jikooks bond.

I will say this though, an actual truth people seem to forget or quickly dismiss across the fandom as a whole, is that those men chose to enlist together and whatever we may think of their relationship that is what happened and we should do well to remember that.

Hey Anon, that's what i call serendipity.

And I love this ask, thank you!

I absolutely agree, what we know - or think we know - has no impact on what truly is.

Even when we believe we know all there is to know, new discoveries and new understanding mean - hopefully - we're constantly learning and reassessing.

When it comes to Jikook, Occam's razor is my go-to: the simplest explanation is, in fact, usually the best. We don't need convoluted plots and schemes and conspiracy theories. There's enough information staring us in the face.

Sometimes we need to untangle that information - I'm not saying we should accept everything on face value - and we do have to look out for new information so we can adjust our understanding.

But that is the case with everything on earth. There is no static knowledge.

These things add layers of richness and complexity but they don't change the basic premise of our underatanding.

That understanding, for me, is that these two humans love each other.

As you say, there ARE things we definitely know, like their companion enlistment.

Like the fact that Jimin chose to have JK with him - next to him - when he talked about his depression on Beyond The Star.

We know Jimin flew 28 hours so he could spend 3 days with JK in NY and Connecticut.

We know that JK was ready to crack Yoongi on the head with a frypan when he though Jimin might have been hurt (by a 5g shuttlecock).

We know that JK never harms Jimin - in all the games and jokes they play, he never targets Jimin (spraying his butt with a watergun is not targeting him, before anyone gets huffy. That did Jimin no harm at all.)

We know that Jimin worried over how hard JK was working.

We know JK begged Jimin shamelessly in front of millions of people, to do a weverse live together.

We know JK watched and hyped all Jimin's footage when he was promoting FACE.

We know they jumped into the comments of one another's livestreams several times last year.

We know all these things, but imagine what we don't know.

There's so much we have no idea about.

Hours and hours of footage that never reaches our screens. Months of time they spend together or alone or with family or friends. That's as it should be - their their private lives are just that - private.

Yes, I have a lot of fun picking apart the little glimpses we get into their lives because i enjoy their dynamic so much and because I'm naturally curious (okay, yes, I'm nosy 🤣).

I look deeper not because I'm hunting for lies or flaws, but because these two delight me. Sure I speculate, but i don't purport to know what they are to each other or where their boundaries lie. And I'm happy not to know. Some things are none of my business.

Like you, Anon, I accept that i may never know the true nature of their relationship, and I'm quite okay with that.

In the end what does it matter?

Whatever they are to each other, they're happy, and honestly what more is there to life than love and happiness?

💜💛

#park jimin #jeon jungguk #jikook #kookmin #국민 #true love #answered asks

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mochroialainn · 3 months ago

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History of Man

Title: History of Man Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Characters: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Silena Beauregard x Sister!Reader Plot: 'she begs him, he says he doesn't understand, she love him more than anyone ever has in the history (history), the history of man…so you'll lose me, the best you'll ever have it's the history, the history of man' - history of man, masie peters - [name] loved luke with all her heart, he was everything to her and then he left and took her heart with him Themes: angst, hurt no comfort: Warnings: this is just angst with no comfort, i'm sorry (not really) , nightmares, mentions of fire and people burning, mentions of screaming Word count: 3,275 Notes: i'm sorry I disappeared,I've been here lurking but was experience severe autristic burn out because of changes in work and some bad news but I'm back and will hopefully be writing more. also bonus points to whoever picks up on the secret reference in this fic, which is especially heart breaking if you have read the books. Also, I know Lacy doesn't come into the series until HOO but I love her and needed a little sister character.

The early morning sun rises over Camp Half-Blood, showering the camp in a beautiful glow of red and oranges and bringing with it the warmth and promise of a new day. A new day of joy and fun for the campers, of bustling cabins and a day full of activities, but for [name] it brought a new day of pain and of heartache.

She watches the sunrise on the steps of her cabin, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she could hold the broken pieces of her heart together by sheer force of will alone. The tears that had fallen earlier in the night had long since dried on her cheeks which were tinted red from the cold of the night. [Name] couldn’t remember when she had come out to stare at the stars, she didn’t know how long she had been sitting there in the cold, the blanket she had originally wrapped around her long forgotten and puddled at her back.

To be fair, she couldn’t remember most of the past two weeks, her mind and body lost to the memories and the heartache. Her emotions a constant battle of hatred and love for Luke Castellan, she knew she should hate him. That she should despise him

But she couldn’t, she couldn’t separate the sweet, considerate, kind Luke who had taken her under his wing, who showed her how to wield a sword to the point that she could now hold her own against a good chunk of the Ares cabin always reminding her after she was claimed that Aphrodite wasn’t just a Goddess of beauty and love but she was also Aphrodite Areia, a war Goddess in Sparta and Taras and Aphoride Urania in Kythira. He reminded her that she could be both beautiful and bold, sweet and strong. That there was strength within her even when she felt like there wasn’t.

She couldn’t separate that Luke from the one that had revealed himself as a traitor, the one who had used a child for a means to an end despite the risk to his life. The one who had stood in front of her and told her he loved her and then proceeded to rip her heart to shreds in the same sentence.

A warm hand on [name]’s shoulder jolts her from her reverie and as she looked up she meets the bleary blue eyes of her favourite sister Silena who gave her a sad smile before reaching and wrapping the blanked around her shoulders again.

“Gods [name], you’re freezing.” Silena’s voice is soft and warm, like a sweet honey tea as she speaks. She’s quiet, not wanting to wake the rest of the cabin. She sits beside [name] and places a gentle hand on her knee, rubbing gentle and comforting circles against the soft pyjama bottoms that [name] wore adding just enough pressure that it can be felt through the fabric.

Silena and [name] were always close, the two girls arrived only a few weeks apart and their bunks were right beside each other in the cabin. The two spent many nights huddled together on one of their beds gossiping and practicing their make-up skills and as they got older they spoke about their crushes, Silena revealing her feelings for Charlie Beckendorf from the Hephasteaus cabin and [name] revealing her feelings for Luke. She still remembered the words Silena spoke the night she revealed her crush, ‘be careful with that one love, he will do what it takes to survive’. Gods how she wished she had listened to her now.

Silena had been her rock the past two weeks, finding her after Luke left and holding her as cried into the night, praying with her almost every night to Aphrodite to make the pain go away and asking why she would allow her daughter to fall in love simply to have her heart ripped out, covering for her in camp activities on the days she couldn’t get out of bed, and reminding her of all the light that was left in her life despite the dark cloud that had shrouded her recently. She was there the night Luke left, her hand carding through [name]’s hair as she threw up from crying so much, whispering re-assuring words in ear and trying to comfort her.

Silena’s voice broke through the silence surrounding them, “Nightmares again?” [Name] nodded, tucking her chin into her chest, turning it slightly to meet her sisters gaze. The nightmares had started the night after Luke left, she hadn’t slept the night before instead she spent the night crying, wrapped up in Silena’s arm as she read her one of her trashy romance books. It was always the same thing, the argument with Luke.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Luke paced back and forth, his footsteps were so heavy and he had been doing it so long that he was leaving treadmarks on the grounds, He was anxious, he hand curling in his hair as he muttered to himself a practiced speech to try and ger [name] on his side and to go with him. He had been pracisiting it for days, ever since Percy, Annabeth and Grover left for their quest because he knew that when they came back there was only one way for it to end.

“Luke!” [Name]’s voice cut through his thoughts, she sounded panicked and confused and the same was written on her face as Luke turned to face her. Her eyebrows were scrunched up and her lips were cornered down in a frown, and fuck Luke thought she still looked beautiful in the dim moonlight and starlight that was filtering through the canopy of trees.

Luke had asked her to meet him at their spot, a little secret section in the vast forest that was spread throughout the campt. Luke had found it in his first year here, it was his escape from the chaos of the Hermes cabin when he first arrived. Going from a young person on the run with only two friends and only his mother as family to a cabin through of brothers and unclaimed kids was a massive adjustment and one it took him a while to get used to. So, when things go overwhelming he would come to this spot and sit, sometimes he’d practice his sword skills, evident by the slash marks in the trees surrounding the area, other times he would sleep because it was the only place he could sleep.

When he started pursuing [name] romantically, he took her to his little slice of tranquility in the chaos of Camp Half-Blood. It was where he first kissed her and where he first told her he loved her. They had spent so many hours here just talking and holding each other that it became a sacred space just for their love and Luke would have sworn it was blessed by Aphrodite herself from how he felt when he was there [Name]. As if the space itself was meant just for their love to blossom and bloom.

“[Name]” Luke wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest and burying his face in her neck taking her the scent of her bodywash mixed with the smell of the bonfire that lingered on her skin. His grip was tight, almost bruising as if she would disappear into smoke if he let her go. There was 2 ways this was going to end and Luke didn’t know if he could face the worst one, he had already lost Percy and Annabeth earlier that tonight when the confronted him about the master bolt, he didn’t want to lose her either.

“Luke, what's going on?” [Name]’s voice was soft and quiet, the only reason Luke heard it above the crickets was because his head was still buried in her neck. Reluctantly, Luke pulled back from her but his hand moved to rest gently against her waist, his hand slipping underneath her Camp Half-Blood shirt and rubbing gently against her skin.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Luke stepped back from her, taking the sword on his hip out of its sheath, [named] looked at him confused. The blade looked strange, darker than the usual celestial bronze the demi-gods used. She didn’t recognise it and a deep unsettling feeling formed in the deepest pit of her stomach.

“Luke, what is that?” Concern now laced her voice instead of confusion and Luke’s eyes flashed down to the blade and back up to [name]’s. “It was a gift”

“A gift? A gift from who?”

“Kronos.” The name struck fear in [name], it was like ice was being poured over her skin, goosebumps running down her arms and legs and shivers like lightning running down her spine. She stepped back from Luke, who’s eyes widened and his lips turned down.

“K-Kronos? Luke, what are you talking about?”

[Name]’s arms reached her her hairpin, it was a gift from her mother that Chrion gave her when she turned 13 to be gifted to a child that showed promise in sword fighting it was a relic fromher time as the Areia and Urania and it was enchanted to turn into a sword. [Name] knew she had no chance in a sword fight against Luke but she would be able to hold him off long enough to call for help, not that she wanted to fight Luke. She couldn’t imagine anything she wanted to do less, she could already feel her heart ripping in two from the confession.

She had been filled in, word moved fast in the camp especially with the Aphrodie and Apollo campers spreading every little bit of gossip like wildlife, someone had stolen the master bolt as a plan to bring Kronos back and to start a divine war. It had been a half-blood at the last solstice and suddenly things started to click into place. Luke was never too far from her with a hand on her waist or holding hand, at the very least he always had a finger linked with hers but during the solstice he disappeared. She thought he had just gone with the rest of the Hermes cabin to see their dad, despite how much she knew he disliked him but now it was obvious. He was the lightning thief. He had set up this whole thing and put Percy, Annabeth and Grover at risk.

As everything clicked for her, her heart pounded in her chest and it was so strong she thought it would tear right out of her chest. Anxiety spiked inside her, nausea rolling through her stomach and bile rising in her throat. But she pushed it down, pulling her pin out and gripping the hilt of her sword as it transformed with a white knuckle grip.

“You’re the lightning thief.” Taking another step back, [name] took a defensive stance and Luke’s eyes widened as he raised his hands in front of him, a motion indicating he wasn’t going to attack.

“[Name], let me explain.” His voice was frantic, the words tumbling out quickly as his brain raced, out of all the scenarios he had come up with for how this would go, his girlfriend pulling a sword on him was not one he considered. “The God’s don’t care about us.”

He took his sword and swiped it in the air, a shimmer shadow ripping open the air as if it was a portal, “Look at what happened to my mom, Hermes could have stopped him but he didn’t and look at all the unclaimed, at how many there are. What kind of parent does that? Just abandons their kids without a second thought to what would happen to them when they came off age and monsters start coming after them”

[Name] shook her head, “You know the God’s can’t interfer with our lives. Its forbidden by the fates.”

Anger washed over Lukes features, the calm and collected facade dropping as he shouts, “That means nothing! Do you know how many times I nearly died before I got to camp? How many monsters I had to fight? If Hermes loved me he would have kept me safe, he would have told me my fate when I asked! Imagine how many demi-gods have died not knowing what they are because the monsters got to them before they could get to camp, how many we lost”

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the curls gently and frustration, “And what about Thalia? Her own father wouldn’t even saver her, instead he turned her into a fucking tree as if that was the only solution”

“But Luke, Kronos is not the answer.”

Luke let out an angry growl and takes a step toward [name], who in turn took a step back.

“Have you even thought about what would happen if Kronos came back? It would be an all out war between the Olympians and the titans, last time there was a war on Olympus it triggered World War 2!”

She let’s out an exasperated sighed and lowers her sword slightly, ��How many lives will be lost then? Mortal and demi-god? Of many of us will have to die for Kronos to rise to power?”

Luke takes another step forward, “Thatt’s why I want you with me.” His hands reached out, pleadingly, his sword lowering toward the ground to show he wasn’t going to hurt her. “If you’re with me, I can protect you and when Kronos wins I will have you by myside as my Queen. I love you and I want you by myside when we win.”

[Name] shook her head and tears started to fall from her face, “You know I can’t do that Luke. Kronos will bring nothing but chaos to this world and too many people will be lost because of him.”

Lukes eyes suddenly turned dark, the pleading tone of his voice dropped and the anger turned into nothingness, [name] didn’t know what was scarier. A dark, dry laugh came from Luke as he brought a hand up to his face, “You just don’t get it.”

Luke raised his sword, pointing the tip of the blade toward [name] and she readied herself for an attack, “Why would you get it? You’re Aphrodites favourite child. You never had to face a challenge in your life, your father brought you to the camp when you were nine he always knew who your mother was. You never had to run from monsters or live on the street to survive and then when you arrived in camp you were claimed within minutes and now you spend your days doing your make-up and your nails. All you have to worry about is looking pretty, it was a waste for me to teach you sword skills.”

A shuttering breath leaves [name]’s lips at his words, more tears flowing and her throat constricting around her words, “Luke you…you don’t mean that”

“You know, maybe you’re not Aphrodites favourite, If you were, she never would have had you fall in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” His voice was harsh, the words cutting like a knife that had been lodged between [name]’s ribs, piercing her lung and making it so she can’t breath. She couldn’t even recognise Luke anymore, his eyes had gone dark and all emotion disappeared from his face as he stepped into the portal and vanished.

As the portal closed behind him, [name] felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces, as if it was made of glass and Luke took a sledgehammer to it. The pain that ripped through her chest felt like someone had ripped her chest open and was slowly pulling her shattered heart out piece by broken piece.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Then it morphs, a single flame igniting where Luke stood that turned into a blazing infero consuming the whole forest and the cabins. She could hear the screams of the campers as the flames burned them, could feel their pain as if it was their own and she could do nothing to stop it. She wanted to stop it, wanted to save them but she couldn’t. When she looked down she could see vines wrapping around her legs, the thorns digging into her skin and drawing blood and all she could do was scream.

The first night if happened, she had woke up the rest of the cabin by screaming in her dreams, Silena had been the one to wake her while her cabin mates rushed to her side to make sure she was okay, Valentina was already at the front door of the cabin ready to go and wake Will if she had to get her sister medical attention. The only one who remained on her bed was Drew, who simply glared at her sister and flicked her hair. Drew was very specific with her beauty sleep and didn’t take well to having interrupted. Once they confirmed that [name] was okay, most of her siblings returned to bed but Silena stayed with [name]. They had gone for a walk around the camp, stopping at the dock and sitting with their feet in the water as they watched the stars. Silena didn’t push her to talk about it then, though [name] told her what the nightmare was the 3rd time it happened, and she didn’t push her to talk today.

Silena took a deep breath and placed her forehead against her sisters, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, [name] copied her. It was a habit the two had gotten into within their first few weeks of Camp Half-Blood when things got overwhelming, a simple way to say ‘i’m here and everything will be okay’.

[Name] finally unwrapped her arms from around herself and instead wrapped them around Silena as fresh tears sprang to her eyes, Silena returned the gesture and she rubbed up and down [name]’s back gently. “One day at a time,” Silena’s voice was gentle and soothing, it comforted [name], reverberating down her spine and warming her from the inside like hot chocolate on a cold winter day.

Unwrapping her arms from Silena, [name] nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “One…one day at a time.” Her voice was quiet, strained and gravelly from the crying. It was a small mantra Silena had started saying to her from the night of the first nightmare, a promise to both her and Silena that she would get through it one day at a time.

The rustling of sheets and the hush of voices pulls the two out of their moment, their siblings starting to wake as the rays from the sunrise turn golden and they prepare for the day. Lacy was the first to notice the pair were gone and she rushed out the front door, throwing herself on both girls to give them a hug. “Good morning!”

The childlike wonder and glee in her voice caused a smile to break out on both their faces, as their hands reached up to tickle the sides of the smaller girl who giggled and wiggled in their grasp. “[Name], can you paint my nails today?” [Name] nodded, standing up and taking her little sister's hands to walk back into the cabin. The sun illuminating them as they walk in, the rays of the sun warming her body and reminding her it was a new day, a new day to make new memories to replace the old ones and she just had to take it one day at a time.

#eevee writes #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson x you #percy jackson angst #percy jackson hurt no comfort #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians x you #percy jackson and the olympians angst #percy jackson and the olympians hurt no comfort #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan hurt no comfort #luke castellan fanfiction #tw.screaming #tw.fires #tw.burning

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zeroducks-2 · 1 year ago

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Ok so I've seen this post way too many times on my dashboard not to get pissed so here's me saying this: Shipping is not aphobic, Soulmates AUs are not aphobic, having fun imagining your favorite little guys having sex is not aphobic.

"But one of these characters is asexual in the text!" 1: a character which doesn't have a canon relationship is not necessarily aspec, and 2: even if the character is canonically aro/ace, shipping them with someone doesn't erase the fact that they're aro/ace in the text, and in fact doesn't hurt anyone because IT'S FICTION. It's like shipping with an age gap, shipping gay characters with the opposite sex, shipping murderers and cannibals, shipping het characters with the same sex, any other "problematic" thing you can think of. It's fiction. It's not real, it doesn't hurt anyone, it's just some poor sod's past-time like it is yours and mine and everyone else's who spend their time shipping fictional people.

"Shipping hurts X category of people" is anti rhetoric and guess what, it's bullshit. You're just calling people aphobic instead of p3do, groomer or whatever other offensive nonsense antis say.

"But soulmate AU are aphobic!" Look, I hate soulmate AUs because they're cheesy and made with the cookie cutter, but that's just bullshit. No they don't hurt aspec communities, they simply do not cater to aromantic people. Something which doesn't cater to you simply existing does not in fact hurt you. And anyway you're free to create your own "Platonic Soulmate AU" if you so like, I promise no one is stopping you and a lot of folks would appreciate it.

"But it normalizes amatonormativity!" LISTEN. It's called amatonormativity FOR A REASON, and this reason is that it is the norm. Fandom spaces haven't normalized it, IT IS ALREADY NORMALIZED. Hetero, cis, allo and amatonormativity don't come from fandoms, they are not pushed by fandoms, and making it sound any different is the same kind of rhetoric antis use. Kinda on the opposite end of the spectrum of that specific brand of antis which claims incest in fanfictions normalizes it, whereas 8 seasons of GoT somehow don't. Like fucking stop treating fans like they hold the keys to make things widely spread and accepted, maybe? Because that's also what antis do in their attempt to police what other people like...?

In conclusion, this is an internalized anti behavior which won't help aspec people, won't help fandom and will only fuel shame in anyone who takes it seriously. It's just a very fancy brand of censorship. Fucking stop.

#censorship is bad in general folks #not just the censorship you personally dislike #ramblings #fandom discourse

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swhhdr-wthhr · 3 months ago

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lots of fun facts about my sanders sides opposite au: (but i clearly have thought of some characters more than others)

logan :

introduced around the time of og accepting anxiety. represents bad decision making and willful ignorance

his first big moment was in can lying be good, which was a game show run by him instead of a play directed by janus. he didn't care whether thomas lied or not. he just wanted to give janus a morality crisis and joke around with virgil

only uses analog technology (ex: if someone asked to borrow his phone, he'd pull out a rotary phone, which works despite not being plugged in)

he's an amateur magician and loves showing off his tricks. virgil is the only one who is impressed by this

pulls things out of seemingly-too-small spaces like mary poppins with her bag, but only from other people's clothes (he will often steal janus's hat and pull something absurdly large out of it)

instead of rising up or appearing out of nowhere in the videos, in every video he walks out from a different random place (ex: from behind the tv like remus, from underneath the couch, down the stairs virgil sits on)

all of his clothes are glow in the dark

he doesn't know he needs glasses. he just assumes everyone has blurry vision

uses vocab cards like original logan but all of the words are made up and have never been said by anyone

regularly puts inflection on all the wrong parts of words and pronounces common words wrong (he doesn't pronounce long, uncommon words wrong, just short, easy to pronounce ones)

always talks just a little too loud and a little too fast

conspiracy theorist but only for theories that no one has ever heard of

wears a suit in every video except the court room one, where he wore the unicorn onesie the whole time

when thomas died his hair purple, his hair was inexplicably a completely different color. it would change every time someone mentioned it and he would never acknowledge that his hair looked different from everyone else's

censors people like og janus, but instead of covering their mouths, he just makes a loud distracting noise like og remus

the only side who doesn't think he's annoying is virgil, who finds him hilarious

virgil:

introduced in episode 1. represents pretty much all of thomas's positive emotions and none of the negative ones. also impulsive thoughts (impulsive not intrusive)

is technically a light side based on his role in the story but he's friends with everyone and "doesn't pick sides" (he sides with whoever is the most useful or interesting to him in the moment)

whenever conversation with the others bores him, he shamelessly ignores them, often scrolling on his phone in the middle of a video

extreme form of a hedonist. he chases dopamine like his life depends on it and is willing to do extremely reckless things if he thinks it will be a little fun

often causally tries to usurp the others and gain unilateral control over thomas's life ("wouldn't it be fun if you just ignored all of them and listened to me?")

is very open to trying new things for the experience, even if he can reasonably guess that he won't enjoy it. roman has no short supply of horrifying, painful ideas that they can try together

very good at insulting people in ways that really hurt. also very good at acting innocent and pretending he wasn't trying to be mean

some parts of the fandom in this universe would think he had a corruption arc when he became friends with the dark sides (there would definitely be fanfics where patton kidnapped and brainwashed him to be evil or smth) but he was just always like this.

always excited to help out the dark sides with their plans, being a bit of a double agent because thomas trusts and listens to him

he's an asshole who just wants to have fun and get what he wants all the time forever

roman:

introduced in this version of dwit, but he represents dark creativity and melancholy more so than intrusive thoughts

claims to hate disney but constantly quotes disney villains

frequently goes on long, depressing, overly dramatic speeches

collects dead things. he's trying to get a corpse of as many different animals, plants, etc. as possible

shameless masochist. (his shoes feel like he's walking on broken glass all the time and he loves it. he was inspired by the original little mermaid)

says all of the same types of things as og remus, but in a more monotone, gloomy way

often very aggressive, especially towards logan. he shows his love through violence and insults. he does the same with patton and virgil but less overtly because he can't get away with it as easily

came up with the name "the dark sides" just like he did in the og series, but this time it's an official term because it was created by one of them

always fights with patton over who's in charge. patton is usually the winner. either way, they don't like listening to each other so whoever wins would just boss around logan (they already both do)

janus:

introduced in episode 1. represents honesty and justice

the most gullible person ever. assumes everyone is always telling the truth and is completely blindsided when he's lied to

a strict kantian. he literally has never lied intentionally

associated with sheep instead of snakes (get it? like the bible?) it's much more subtle than the snake symbolism but gets more obvious as the show goes on and he gets an outfit change. (he wears a white wool turtleneck, has sheep/goat rectangular pupils, and has little horns under his hat, which is why he wears it)

his logo doesn't have a sheep on it, but his christmas sweaters do

tries to be nice to everyone since it's his job to be a good role model, but he would rather be honest than polite, so he can be pretty sassy at times

always feels guilty for something, even if he did nothing wrong

always a target of logan for his gullibility, and how he tries so hard to steer thomas in the right direction. in can lying be good, the game show logan hosted was rigged and completely nonsensical. this drove him crazy because...

he cares very much about things being fair

much more competent in the courtroom scenario than og patton was, too bad patton in this universe is also more strategic than og janus

remus:

introduced in episode 1. represents light creativity, hopes and dreams, and innocence

very squeamish and easily scared

if og remus is r rated creativity and og roman is pg creativity, this remus is g rated. never curses. very averse to violence

he's kind of the straight man of this group of gay men (similar to og logan). he's fed up with everyone, especially the dark sides

really hates the fact that virgil is friends with the dark sides, but he can't really do anything about it so he just sulks

you know in the we take requests video where they say the most out of character thing each character could say? and for remus they say like 'can you guys just chill? i'm trying to sing all of moby dick'? that's this remus's energy

writes poetry in his free time

his ideas can be pretty out there and weird like og remus, but just without the dark stuff

mostly pretty calm and subdued, but can get very hyper and intense when he's exited about an idea or a romantic opportunity for thomas

patton:

introduced around the time of svs

very strategic. plans meticulously before doing anything. (even little unimportant things) he was the mastermind behind pretty much everything logan and roman did before he was even introduced

says that he doesn't care about the other dark sides and that he only works with them out of necessity. he is actually very fond of and protective over them. he'll never admit it

always polite to everyone, even when he's arguing against them (this was very confusing to thomas who expected him to be even scarier than roman). it's just performative though. he's a hater, not a lover

enjoys making puns but always denies that they were intentional (like og logan but if he was lying about it being an accident)

has very dulled emotions. he enjoys spending time with roman, logan, and virgil because they're all so intense in different ways and allow him to feel something

he is especially attached to virgil, since virgil can't just make him feel any emotion, he can make him feel happy

doesn't emote with his eyes. or blink.

starts off as less threatening than roman, but later on, he gets some much scarier moments. roman has more of a constant, steady stream of scariness, while patton holds most of it in until it builds up to an explosion

has a #1 Dad mug, but it's been crossed out and has #2 Boss written under it (logan gave it to him)

roman frequently tries to kill him. he pretends not to notice it to frustrate him (ex: roman will poison his coffee and he'll drink the whole thing with no reaction)

#sanders sides opposite au #sanders sides #tss #sasi

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auspicioustidings · 4 months ago

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If you see a Call of Duty fanblog that claims they are or were in the military I can say that 99% of the time they are lying.

A cishet white man who had a good experience in the military will not engage in fandom and will only brutally make fun of it, if he had a bad experience he is nowhere near the fandom.

A cishet POC man is the same, it's just a lot less likely he had a good experience.

A cishet woman who had a good experience in the military is, almost certainly, an ultra conservative who would despise fandom spaces.

Anyone outside of the categories above 99% of the time did not have a good experience with the military. They may have PTSD not from war zones but from how they were treated in their own departments. They may engage with fandom, but they will never idolise these characters uncritically and are not going to joyfully make it a part of their online fandom personality that they are ex-military so can totally help you with details (which given that all branches of the military function totally differently and countries again function totally differently they can't).

As a good rule of thumb, if anyone on the Internet is making something about them that conveniently relates to the fandom they are in a major part of their personality, treat that claim as unverified and move on with your day. You do not owe strangers on the Internet your blind trust and they do not owe you proof of their claims if they are not actively hurting anyone with them. If you think they are using their claims to actively try hurting someone, block them. These people thrive on attention and negative attention spends just as good as positive, do not give it to them.

#STOP BELIEVING EVERYTHING YOU READ ON THE INTERNET #like if I say hey I worked at sea and taught in Japan you should say 'oh that's nice' but not 100% beleive me #I am a stranger on the internet and while you can believe me at surface level if I got caught lying it should cause a shrug #it should not feel like an ultimate betrayal #get a fucking hobby if you are making all these sockpuppets this isn’t the early 2000s jesus christ #how embarassing for you #and also you are never truly anonymous on the internet you fucking tumshie someone with sufficient motivation could track you down #keep pretending to be military to harress people and you will piss off the wrong person and get HIV living'd

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monodramatic-cannibal · 3 months ago

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Renegade!Error

Info post about the au

(If characters seem OOC ((Out Of Character)) it's beacause I'm going off of my own interpretations/headcanons/fandom versions. So please be aware of that)

More info under the cut (Info is subject to change at any time. Info may be added to as well)

-Jobs in the group: Builder, storage management, tailor (making clothes)

Weapons of choice: strings either to tie things up cut them or to throw things around, can briefly control souls with strings

-Head canon voice: ???

-Uses He/Him and also It/Its, is also Grey AroAce.

-Did computer science before the apocalypse. Was actively looking for more things to research in this field as well.

-Has glitches all over his body, the glitches tend to spike up the more intense his emotions are. They tend to make him crash when he’s touched. The glitching tends to be calmer whenever he’s asleep. His voice also glitches, which can vary depending on his mood as well.

-Has Haphephobia, fear of being touched. Doesn’t have a single person he lets touch him, and has never considered ever trying with anyone.

-Can both knit and sew things. Is often found knitting though, as that's a hobby of his, doesn’t like his hands having nothing to do so the knitting helps with that issue.

-Has bad eyesight, has glasses, did break the glasses down the middle, so they do have tape to keep them together. Only wears them when needed though.

-When he talks his hands are always moving, talking in hands with gestures. Does it subconsciously, doesn’t care if anyone points it out, tends to just put his middle fingers up at them in response.

-Makes puppets, or just generally anything plushie related. Mainly makes these just for fun, has a ton of them that he’s made. Uses his strings to hang the plushies from the ceiling.

-Hates things being out of order, so he keeps the storage room really organized. Will lose his mind if Fell puts things out of order. Since Fell helps him with the storage room.

-Collects badges and patches he can sew on clothes. Will also make his own patches. Has tried to teach Blue how to make patches but Blue didn’t seem to have the patience for that. Found out Lust knows how to make them and Lust will sometimes gift him patches they’ve made.

-Has a hammock he made with his strings, in the storage room. Tends to be in this hammock half the time when in the storage room. He even sleeps in the storage room, basically claimed the storage room as his actual room.

-Has a swing made out of his strings in the storage room too, lets the others use it when hanging out with him.

-Likes to mess with any electronics he gets his hands on. So when not around the storage room or hanging with Nightmare or Blue he’s in the radio room to have access to the electronics Echo keeps in there.

-When is voice glitches he does try to pause to try to either say things again more clearly or will talk a bit slower. But if they still can’t understand him he may just try to write things down. His handwriting is kinda bad but it's readable.

-When the apocalypse hit he still had his phone and laptop with him. So still has these things on him to this day. He mainly just uses his phone for his music, which he tends to listen to Breakcore/Speedcore/Drum&Bass/etc.

-Has slight memory issues when it comes to things he doesn’t find that important, which half the time tends to be most things.

-Tends to not care how he comes across to people, since he struggles to keep up with conversations and adjust his emotions according to the convocation, so he just gave up trying. But this means he can come across as rude/mean.

-Likes to tell things how they are. Even if this comes across as blunt/mean. He’d much rather tell the truth even if it hurts, than lie.

-Can get angry quite easily, and can be destructive when mad. Tends to disappear outside the living area to go either destroy random stuff away from everyone or attack wraiths.

-When moving around outside away from the living area tends to use his string to swing from building to building, sticking normally to rooftops or higher floors of buildings.

-If he likes someone he may consider standing/sitting close to them, never close enough to touch them but closer than what he would be to others.

How they feel about:

Nightmare: Doesn’t mind Nightmare, appreciates the fact Nightmare gives him space. Tends to hang out with Nightmare when the MTT aren’t there, but sometimes they will be, as long as they mind their own business and aren’t too loud he will stick around just to spend time with Nightmare.

Dream: Dream sometimes comes to spend a bit of time with him, mainly to help out with the storage. Doesn’t mind Dream being around, but doesn’t really know how to interact with them. The only thing that bothers him about Dream is the fact sometimes Ink will tag along.

Cross: Doesn’t mind Cross, but only really interacts with him when Cross comes to get something from storage, which he doesn’t like people he doesn’t really know being in the storage room for too long so normally wants him out. Any other time they run into each other is normally because of Nightmare.

Blue: Unsure on how it happened but Blue became a friend for him. Surprisingly he doesn’t mind Blue around. Blue respects his boundaries, and gives him a relatively quiet atmosphere when around. Has taught Blue both how to knit and the basics of sewing.

Ink: Unsure on how he feels about them. Ink is always joking with him and calling him random pet names. Ink also has dubbed him as an ‘art buddy’ due to the fact he makes dolls, and knits, he doesn’t really like this title but has given up on trying to say he's not Ink’s buddy. He can only really interact with Ink in small bursts, because if he was to interact with Ink for a long time it would drive him insane.

Dust: Gets along with Dust, Dust respects his boundaries and is also quiet. Dust often just watches him knit or sew something. He’s made Dust a few things now and then. Just finds Dust to be one of the more reasonable people in the group.

Horror: Doesn’t mind Horror, doesn’t know him much though. Is just unsure on him. Only really sees him when he comes to the storage room for something, or whenever he's hanging with Nightmare.

Killer: Doesn’t let him in the storage room, doesn’t stop Killer from sneaking in to bother him though. Killer doesn’t respect boundaries, so he doesn’t really like him. The only time Killer seems to be nice is when Nightmare is around, which pisses Error off, and he’s started telling Nightmare about Killer.

Lust: Doesn’t mind Lust, often get along for their love of knitting/sewing. Lust makes him patches for his clothes, will often at least have one of these patches on his current clothing at all times, out of respect for Lust. In tern, he will knit sweaters for Lust.

Fell/Edge: They’re on okay terms with each other, has to get used to Fell since Fell also does things within the storage room. Does tend to kick Fell out of the storage room whenever he just wants to do things himself though, it’s not like Fell complains though.

Geno: One of his brothers, tries to avoid him when he can. They stopped talking a while ago. They just kinda fell out of touch, at least that is what happened on Error’s side.

Outer: Doesn’t mind him, they’ve talked about stars a few times before. Other than Outer doing his job and the stars conversation that's really as much as they interact.

Sci: Helps him sometimes, mainly more of the tech side of needing help though.

Reaper/Death: Wants to hit him with a chair. Wants him to get away from Geno.

Fresh: Hasn’t met him, well this version of him, Nightmare told him about Fresh, it sort of distressed him. Whatever this is doesn’t sound like his brother. He knew Fresh went missing before the apocalypse but just assumed he went off to start a life.

Gans/Echo: Somewhat is okay with him. Only interacts with him because he wants to mess with the electronics in the radio room, it just happens that's the room Echo is in most of the time. Has the understanding that he’s in Echo’s space, like how his space is the storage room, so tries to be as respectful as he possibly can be about it.

Chief: Doesn’t really have an opinion on him as he’s only really interacted with Chief in the context of their jobs.

#monoart #monos art #art #digital #digital art #undertale au #underverse #undertale sans au #sans au #Renegade au #Renegade ref #Renegade refs #Renegade #Renegade info #Renegade!Error #Error #error sans #ref #reference

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urproblematicfav-arsonk · 16 hours ago

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ok you made good points for the most part but something in your helluva post confuses me: how in the world has stolas been "sexually abusing octavia the entire series"?

going off of the definition of sexual abuse (rape, assault, trafficking, molestation, coercion, etc.) i cannot think of anything that even remotely points to evidence of that.

surely, SURELY you aren't claiming that just because he said something sexual on the phone in front of her? not even TO her or ABOUT her? that's a misstep for sure, but going so far as to call that sexual abuse is... just not correct.

maybe if he did it on purpose or specifically because she was around, but to me it reads like he forgot she was there and got caught up in the phone conversation. there's no evidence that it happened more than once either, so "the whole series" is a biiig stretch.

i REALLY hope that specific moment isn't what you mean, because that's the kind of claim that really softens the meaning of the term... but i really can't think of anything else that even suggests it.

I feel like theres definitely a way to say "Hey! We seem to disagree on this interpretation of this show! I have no fucking idea where you are coming from, can you explain?" Without turning it into a...definition....of rape.......to the rape victim........and also accusing said rape victim of "softening" language?? Would the term sexual harassment be better?? I personally think it's arbitrary to say "thats not technically sexual abuse, its just weird, stop calling it that" when it's something sexual.....that hurts someone?? Idk its semantics.

So anyway ignoring the vibes you brought to the table, I was talking to my irl friend about Helluva, back when the stolitz shit was happening. And I was complaining because of how CLEAR the abuse in that dynamic is to me. And he was like "I think cuz of your trauma that you're reading into it too much and taking it too seriously." And I was like "IF VIV WANTS POINTS FOR DOING SA REP, THEN IM GONNA TAKE EVERYTHING SUPER SERIOUSLY"

The difference between us is that I was sexually abused, and trafficked(not sex trafficked but still) so when I watch this show, I IMMEDIATELY pick up on things happening there. While he doesn't because he's """normal"""" and not traumatized, so he just sees fun dick joke show about dick and balls. I think a lot of this fandom is a mix of both. People like me picking up on signs, and other people who just are here for jokes and don't necessarily notice all the really bad shit because thats not exactly their lived experience. Completely understandable, I don't hold it against anyone for not noticing it the way I do. But I do see it, and wanna bitch about it.

We're in hell. This show is set in the actual human bible hell damnation hell for hell people. I think there's a way to read some characters as "uwu babies", but I'm not gonna. It's hell. In hell. I'm going to be giving no one the benefit of the doubt, and assume the worst in people until proven otherwise. Especially when the characters in question are dickbags who never actually change.

What Stolas is doing is...sexual harassment? Is that better??? Stolas is openly engaging in pretty intense kinkplay around his daughter and that is in fact, Bad.

(its also entirety possible Octavia knows that this dynamic is sexually violent and is forced to listen to her dad want to rape a guy, and no dont come telling me thats wrong too, fuck off.)

And as someone who's been through the exact same kind of trauma as Octavia, I can say it definitely fucked me up✨ The only thing I'll give Stolas is that it doesn't seem like he's been doing this around her since she was a small child like I was, but its still bad. That's still inappropriate behavior, that's still something he should know to stop immediately when he sees she's around. Octavia is a depressed, struggling teenager who needs love and support while dealing with this sudden divorce. Stolas spends EVERY episode that is supposed to be about them, either tryna fuck Blitz in front of her, or ignoring her to interact with Blitz and or yell at Stella.

Stolas' problem as a character(not a bad thing, this should be a story/character arc) is that he's deeply entitled, and doesn't see how is actions effect others. Stolas is upset that he was forced into marriage? Wow, isn't Stella such a bitch for doing that too him? No empathy for the woman also being raped and abused through this forced marriage. Stolas is gay and wants to fuck? Let's not think about the class difference, and that he's literally holding Blitz' survival in his hands in exchange for cock. Stolas wants the sexual experiences he was robbed of because of his trauma? Who cares if it destroys his family and makes his daughter feel worthless, he wants to sext. His arc should be about facing the fact that he's abusive, and hurtful. He is hurting Blitz, and Octavia with his sexual behavior. But if he was supposed to be a "good" character with "good intentions", then he should have no problem apologizing and ACTUALLY changing. Stolas doesn't seem upset that they're upset, he's upset he got "caught". He's upset Blitz demands respect and doesn't suck his dick the second he shows any remorse. He's upset that he can't fight Stella and fuck all he wants and instead has to deal with his moody teenager ACTUALLY needing attention and support. My comment about "the entire series" is because the only things we see are the bad parts of their relationship with no development, even if its only a few episodes.

Also since we're playing the virtue game, saying "but he didn't do it on purpose" is actual victim blaming and rapist apologist behavior so like, good job?? Saying rape or sexual abuse isn't as big of a deal just because it was an accident, or unintentional is definitely a take to have. Now, I'd say this is a stupid furry series that doesn't matter in the long run, but you're the one whining about language??

Anyway. Hazbin/Helluva are poorly made shows that annoy me. Pls stop fucking with people about shit like "softening" language and all that "real victims" and all that purity culture savior complex bullshit. Its super weird. Rambling times over, its like 5am im going back to sleep. Also I'm proship, this is media analysis not a moral thing except for the part where I was fucked with over language.

#rip the council dealing with me going insane over this ask at 5am #im slepy #also leave me alone lmao #theres a lot more angry version of this in my drafts but im gonna be slightly normal about it #Octavia hits very close to home for me and it annoys me #i hate when i get good abuse rep and the fandom always forgets that the guy they're defending has a daughter #borderlands2 was like this as well and i ufughghg #anyway slepy #helluva boss critical #proship #anon ask #rant

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thatneoncrisis · 4 months ago

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Why does every 20-something year old on the planet think they’re going to stand up for marginalised groups by being a dick on the internet to strangers they assumed to be something they’re not. All those authors you dislike, turns out they were just people, and some of them trans themselves too! What a shock! Maybe you could have gone about this a better way, but I suppose the option to be a cunt is a good one too. You’ve definitely improved the TLT fandom in a measurable way with this move. Which transfems are more important to you? The ones who like the fics you don’t, or the ones who like the fics you do? What about the ones that are writing the fics you don’t like?

Could have raised the issue in so many other ways, decided the way you were going to go was to be as incendiary as possible and now you’re surprised when its hurt people who are part of the same group you claim to be sticking up for? Maybe next time you’ve got a problem, you raise it more constructively, if you’re actually this invested in raising the point in a way that improves the situation for those you’re championing. As a multi-chapter satire fic would imply. Might have to do less damage control after that way at least.

alright. i mean again ive spent the last year writing content that i want to see, and i was only very recently made aware that some of the fics read as playing into transmisogyny are written by trans women, i understand that those authors are also just people who have no obligation to like what ive done or agree with it. im not surprised about whats happening stop saying im surprised or never expected this

but im trans. i have friends who are across the spectrum transfem or otherwise. i constantly see them raising this issue to be met with the "dont read and touch grass" excuse, because the idea something can be made for someones own comfort is met with other people outside of that bubble being really hurt by it. which is what is happening now. i resent the idea that a particular member of a marginalized group cannot make harmful content in relation to said group. i made it because i was fucking angry. i made it because it was easier and compiling every single instance of someone treating gideon like a fucking slobbering dog brainless piece of meat who cant function in the proximity of femme pussy. no group is more important than the other, but both deserve to talk about it. i wrote a story being big mad and now im getting feedback, that is literally all i wanted

i am officially sick of this "i expected more from you" ass tone, as if i didnt give this extensive thought and execute it anyway, for the large swaths of trans and fans of color who DO agree with me and DO have a problem with is. stop pretending like i am completely and utterly fucking incapable of recognizing the nuance of the situation, that i made something that was harsh because i was tired of seeing the same shit uncritically produced and read by people. i will never be able to stop anyone from writing what they want, so i wrote what i wanted, and ultimately im on the fence about its execution. i have just enough right to be upset as you do, and im sorry im not 30 years old and keeping my mouth shut, because lets not pretend there was any world where i could form a post articulate enough to keep people from interpreting it as "big dick bad and i hate fun" that maybe gets thirty notes

#asks #Anonymous

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year ago

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Prompt: Maya and reader weren’t official. Maya said she didn’t do relationships and you said you weren’t just her fuck toy. But what happens when Jack (or anyone) tries flirting with reader??

Late Night Calls

Fandom: Station 19

Pairing: Maya Bishop x fem!reader

Words: 4.4k+

Summary: You were trying to move on, you really were. It was only so many times you could be completely let down by Maya Bishop and you were trying to break your habits. But then she's Maya Bishop... and it's really hard to resist her.

Genre: Smut & Angst & Fluff (tiny bit)

Warnings: Alcohol mention, top!Maya, bottom!r, jealousy & possessiveness, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, bathroom sex

A/N: I'll be honest, this fic feels a lil messier than I'd like it to be. But I hope y'all enjoy my first Station 19 fic!

“Oh come on,” Maya groaned as she rolled over to face you. “Don’t be like that.”

You were currently sitting on the edge of her bed, angrily pulling your shirt back on. It happened again, you thought things were different and you were sorely mistaken. When were you going to stop falling for her sweet words and seductive tone coming from the other end of the phone? It always happened when the sun went down. She would call you and tell you all the right things to make you squirm where you sat. She’d tell you she wanted you. No – craved you and every time you’d fall for it and find yourself hopping into your car and speeding to her apartment. And lately, the last few times you arrived she would take your breath away, claiming you in a way that only she could. Touching you in a way that only she knew how. At the end she’d kiss you so deeply that you thought you two were on the same page. But the moment the kiss was over she’d untangle herself from you completely and not so subtly hint for you to leave. Your hopes would instantly be crushed. What should’ve been an amazing night would turn into one of self hatred and disgust. You couldn’t help, but feel used. Any time she’d start the conversations about no sleepovers, you’d fight back by telling her that the next time she called it had better be for something more. Of course, despite your warning, she would still call and that’s why you kept thinking things would be different. It never was. She was starting to make you believe all you were good for was a quick fuck and you didn’t like that feeling.

This time you didn’t even bother to start the argument again. When you two were finally spent, you waited for her to say something, anything of meaning, and yet again she started with the same words. “It’s getting pretty late…” Immediately, you knew it was her way of telling you to leave. This time, when she said it, you just huffed and started to pull on your clothes. The only thing you said in response as you wrestled with your shirt was “Don’t call me again, Maya.” And that’s when you finally got a different reaction out of her.

“We had fun tonight, didn’t we?” She said behind you, her hand reaching to run her fingers across the exposed skin of your back as you continued to struggle with your shirt in the dark. All you did was recoil, not wanting to entertain her words with any sort of answer.

She sat up when she noticed your response to her touch. The fact that you pulled away from it did something to her. The harshness of the way you recoiled sat in the pit of her stomach and she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Maya tried to shake off the feeling, telling herself if she reasoned with you it would make her feel better.

You felt the mattress shift as she scooted closer and you squeezed your eyes shut tight in anticipation of her next words. “Listen,” she sighed, her hand yet again reaching out to brush her fingers along your back. This time you didn’t pull away, but you just sat still as you waited for her to continue. Whatever she was going to say next was going to disappoint you. You knew that deep down. It’s not like this would be the first time she hurt you like this. Yet, still you waited and hoped she’d say something real. “I told you when we started that I didn’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. This conversation always goes in circles and you were tired of having it. Of course, Maya couldn’t ever talk about her feelings with you before. Why would this time be any different? “You also said this was a one time thing.”

You didn’t have to turn around to know that Maya was wearing that annoyed frown she always gets. She never says anything when you throw that back in her face, but it was true. Maya made it clear the first time you hooked up, but then she broke her own rule and she called you again… and then again… and again until you were at a point where you lost track of how many times she would ask you to come over.

Instead of waiting any longer for her to make up some other excuse to get you to leave or to sweet talk you into not being so mad, you got up and walked towards where your pants lay on the floor. Maya stayed silent this time. The air had drastically changed. It felt heavy, suffocating even. Usually, after this conversation happens, it’s tense. But this was different. There was a sense of finality in the way you moved across the room, gathering everything you two had flung off. Maya understood that and watched silently as you pulled the rest of your clothes on.

“Goodbye, Maya.” Your voice echoed through the uncomfortable silence. Maya turned her head from you, refusing to meet your eyes as you waited one final time for her to say something, anything to get you to stop. She remained silent. You took her response as her own acceptance of the finality of the night. This was the end of whatever this situationship was. With your things gathered, you looked back at Maya once more, her eyes still glued to a random part of the room. The lack of reaction from her strengthened your resolve, and finally you left. That night was the last night, you told yourself. It would be the last time you had this conversation, the last time you answered her calls, the last time you fell for Maya Bishop.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After that night, Maya would call and you’d send her to voicemail. When she texted, you would purposefully leave her on read. It took longer than you thought it would for her to finally stop trying to get you to come over. The texts and the calls had slowed to a stop and you tried to ignore what that might mean. Did she find someone else to answer those calls? As hard as you tried to deny the hurt you felt from walking away from Maya, you knew it was for the best. You deserved more and you knew that, but you still couldn’t help but want her.

To distract yourself from her, you would go out with your friends. They kind of knew what was going on. Not all the details, but still, they could tell that you were heartbroken. It had been a month now of you trying to avoid Maya Bishop and her insistence to break the bad habit that you formed with you. You were holding strong, so you decided to be bold. A month was a decent amount of time. Maybe you weren’t over Maya, but maybe you were ready to be under someone else. A hook up, that’s what your friends convinced you that you needed to get the ball rolling. A hook up wouldn’t solve everything, but maybe it would fix your bad mood.

So you got dressed up and went out. Your intentions were to find someone, flirt, and see what happens. And oh, did you flirt. You really flirted. More so than you usually would. But there was a good reason for that and that reason was currently staring daggers at you from across the bar.

It was driving Maya crazy, in fact. Having to watch you fawn all over another person. That person being Jack of all people. Part of that pissed her off even more. She saw you the minute she entered the bar and, unfortunately for her, you saw her at the very same time. That’s when you shifted all your attention to Jack. She knew it was, because you caught her coming in. She chose her usual spot and luckily it had a clear shot of where you were currently, in her opinion, draping yourself all over him. He, of course, was loving all of it. He had a shiteating grin on his face and it was quickly testing Maya’s patience. After a few minutes of this little show, Maya was ready to snap.

Jack was clearly enjoying your attention too and that’s what was making it even worse for Maya. He was leaning close to and talking you up. Maya kept seeing the telling smile he flashed at you and, to her horror, she knew what that meant. Finally, he flexed and of course you laughed and all Maya could do was grimace.

Maya’s fists were shaking in anger as she watched this shitshow unfold in front of her. She tucked her hands under the bar to hide their shaking as she watched you touch his arm like it was the most casual thing in the world. If looks could kill, the one she was giving Jack would’ve made him drop dead. And honestly, she hated herself a little bit for wishing that he’d disappear right now. Did he know what he was doing? Maya thought she told him about the little situationship she had with you, but maybe he didn’t realize it was you she was sleeping with. Or used to be sleeping with, she guessed, since it had been a month. Hopefully, though, that was the case, that he actually had no clue who you were. But if he actually knew it was you that she was seeing, then he might not be leaving this bar in one piece tonight.

When he leaned in and whispered something in your ear that was the last straw for her. Maya knew Jack well enough to know that he was close to convincing you leave with him. She’d be damned if she let that happen. After one more long drink of her beer, she slammed her bottle down and shot up from her seat. Walking right up to where you and Jack sat at the bar, she didn’t even look his way once before pushing herself in the small space between you two.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned back on his barstool as he watched Maya get into your personal space. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Maya’s voice was clearly tense as she practically seethed. A knowing smirk formed on Jack’s face as he watched her haul you off your stool. Bingo.

“I uh- I guess?” You stuttered. Not that it mattered, Maya was already pulling you toward the bathroom.

You practically jumped out of your skin when Maya slammed the door behind the both of you. She reached for the doorknob and the sound of the click echoed through the room as the lock slid into place. Alright, you thought, this night was going to be a long one.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Maya whipped around on you as you walked further into the bathroom, wanting to get a little bit of distance between you and the woman you so desperately wanted to forget.

“I’m not doing anything, Maya,” you said, trying your best to play it neutral. Truth is, you knew exactly what you were doing. To be fair, this wasn’t your plan at the beginning of the night. You definitely didn’t just walk into the bar, find Jack and decide tonight was the night you’d try your best to make Maya jealous. In a way that wasn’t your goal at all, but in a way, deep down, it also was. No, your plan for the night was to try to forget Maya once and for all.

Okay, so you picked a bar that you knew she frequented, but to be fair you hadn’t seen her there in awhile. When you went with your friends, as much as you hated yourself for it, you would look at her usual spot and she wouldn’t be there. So, there were two reasons you decided this decision was safe: The first being that it was a familiar bar where you knew other people who frequented, so if you went alone and something happened, you had people around who had your back. The second was that you really didn’t expect Maya to suddenly start coming the first night you decided to go out without your usual group of friends again. Your hopes were to find someone to flirt with, to forget maya for, or to at least go home with. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen now. Especially when you hadn’t even finished half of your first drink before being torn away from Jack.

Your night hadn’t even started and she already ruined it. She was going to watch your every move the whole evening, you knew that just by the way she was looking at you from across the bar. So, since you were angry, you found an easy way to piss her off too: Jack. Yeah, you knew him. He was charming, he worked with Maya, and you kind of knew they had a history. Honestly, anyone would’ve done the job but he was sitting right there and you wanted to be effective. So you flirted and they both ate it right up. Was it cruel? Maybe, but honestly if you didn’t know any better it felt like deep down Jack knew exactly what you were doing too. Either way, your little plan to piss Maya off clearly worked since you were now being stared down by her as she kept getting closer and closer to you.

“Jack? Really?” Maya stopped right in your personal space, but you weren’t going to back down.

“Why not Jack?” You shot back.

“Because he’s… Jack! He and I- well we- we work together!” Maya’s arms shot up in frustration, but you weren’t phased. If anything, you were a little smug. “And you two were practically all over each other.”

Your eyebrow shot up at that. You hoped your plan to make her jealous would work, but you didn’t think it would work this well. It took everything in you not to smirk at her in triumph. “Why does that matter?”

“Come on!” Maya huffed. “You know why.”

“No,” you challenged. “I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Because I-” Maya paused for a minute. You could see as she struggled to find what to say next. “Because it could get messy.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and shook your head. She was really trying to avoid having a real conversation about her feelings, and you watched as she did mental gymnastics to get around it. “We were just having fun, remember? So nothing should get messy,” you fired back. “Unless, either you or Jack has feelings for me, then I don’t see why anything would get messy? And I mean… Come on, Maya, I don’t really know Jack that well so I don’t think he would be the one to catch feelings for me. Do you?”

You didn’t stop the smug smile that time. Maya stood there dumbfounded and you practically beamed at her with how proud you were of your own argument. You had her, she might not want to admit it, but you finally really did. Maybe she’s moved on, maybe she found your replacement, but that’s not going to dampen your victory. At least you can rub it in her face right now that she’s not allowed to have you anymore, while also confirming that she felt something.

“You know that I don’t-”

“Do girlfriends,” you interrupted. “Yeah, I know. Listen, Maya, I’m done with this. If you don’t have something real to say then I’m going back out there.” You took a moment to see if Maya would respond, but she just stared back at you with wide eyes. Finally, you stepped around Maya, trying to reach the door. But you didn’t get a chance to even touch the lock.

Suddenly, Maya’s hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back and turning you around. You stumbled awkwardly, reaching for the bathroom counter to steady yourself. “Maya, what the f-”

Her hand was on your chin in a blink of the eye. She held your head still as her lips came crashing onto yours. All words of protest you had were quickly, utterly lost.The both of you stumbled back at the sheer force of her kiss until your back was fully pressed to the counter, but her lips still didn’t part from yours. Your hands wrapped around the edge of the counter as you tried to keep yourself upright. Her lips pressed harder into yours and the hand that was once on your chin moved to tangle in your hair. The kiss was sudden and your brain didn’t register what was even happening at first, but when it finally did you should’ve stopped it instantly. Except, no matter how much your brain was screaming at you to be logical, you couldn’t. The kiss was breaking all the rules you set for yourself when it came to Maya now. But it just felt so fucking good.

Instead of pushing Maya away like you probably should’ve, you kissed her back. When her lips met yours with full force, you instantly accepted them. Even though your hands were currently busy steadying you, you still tried to push forward to have your body press fully to hers. The minute you felt her tongue trace your lip, you knew it was all over for you. The voice that was still telling you to stop went completely silent. Whatever Maya wanted, she could have. As long as she touched you the way you so pathetically wanted and so desperately missed, she could do whatever she wanted to you.

You couldn’t stop the whimper that left your mouth when you felt one of Maya’s legs push between your thighs and press up slightly. Maya took that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth, running it against your own. As much as you hated yourself for it, you were drowning in Maya. How could you deprive yourself of this feeling for as long as you did? She was everything you’ve been craving for a whole month. There wasn’t a second that went by that you weren’t filled with the overwhelming desire to feel her hands back on you. Each time she called, you hesitated to send it to voicemail. Each text, you found harder and harder to ignore. You tried to push all these feelings for her back down. God, how you fucking tried. But now one of her hands was slipping under your shirt, her nails were dragging down the skin of your stomach, and her tongue was licking into your mouth. Now, she was filling your every sense and you were willingly letting yourself get lost in it.

It didn’t take long for you to let Maya’s body push your own up and onto the bathroom counter. Maya broke her hold on you to grab your legs and hook them over her own waist. If you weren’t already gone before, now, with the way Maya was between your thighs, you really were. You didn’t care about what promises you made to yourself, what this would feel like the next morning, all you wanted was Maya to keep doing what she was doing and you wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that right now. So when your legs were locked around her and her hands had moved to your pants, you didn’t stop her from popping open the button and undoing the zipper. Maybe, if you were being rational, you should’ve at least insisted on not doing this in the bathroom of a grimey bar, but you weren’t being rational. Honestly, if Maya stopped for even just a second you thought you’d explode. So instead, when Maya’s hands toyed with the edge of your underwear, in your irrational, impatient state, you grabbed her hand and pushed it further down.

Maya also had absolutely no cares in the world. She didn’t care if they kicked the damn door down, she wasn’t going to let anything tear her away from you. In this moment, she tried with all her might to show you that the only one who gets to have you was her. Fuck Jack, she thought as her fingers were instantly met with your wetness when they grazed your folds. She was the one to cause that, she was the one to turn you on and have you already so deliciously disheveled in her arms. It was her, not him. It would never be him or anyone else, she promised herself as her teeth pulled at your lip and you let out a desperate whine. Only she would be the one to touch you like this from now on, she would make sure of it.

Your body shuddered when you felt Maya’s fingers move down through your folds, collecting your wetness. Maya wasn’t wasting any time. She knew, with the precarious location that you two were currently in, that she didn’t have time to draw this out with you. Despite how much she wanted to take her time reminding you of how good only she could make you feel, that would have to come later tonight. At least Maya hoped for it, but with the way you were panting into her mouth as her fingers circled your entrance, she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince you to hear her out and go home with her for more.

Maya entered you with two fingers and you immediately let out a small gasp at the feeling. Her lips moved from yours finally and went to your neck. As she began to drag her fingers out of you slowly, you felt her whisper against your skin “fuck, I’ve missed you.” Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as her fingers stopped right at the tips before practically slamming back into you. And then she set a steady pace. It took everything in you not to let a moan slip from your lips as she started to fuck her fingers into you. Her pace wasn’t fast, but her fingers still moved in and out of you with an intensity so strong that her whole body rocked with yours. Your hands moved from their grip on the counter to wrap around her back and hold her closer to you as some sort of anchor for the sheer pleasure she was causing. Maya’s free arm wrapped around your waist to hold you upright while she pressed her whole body more fully into you. Her fingers kept moving and her tongue and teeth were busy running up and down your neck. When her fingers curled inside of you, she also picked a place to focus on your neck, no doubt leaving a large visible mark in her wake.

Her increasing pace and the way she was latching onto your neck was way too much for you. You knew if you were just a little too loud then someone might notice. Yes, there was loud music, but still even that couldn’t drown out all the sounds Maya seemed to be trying to elicit from you. You pulled away from her lips that were currently making their way across your jaw and buried your head into her neck, trying your best to muffle the pitiful whines that were coming from you. Maya was now the one who was utterly smug, loving that you were struggling so hard to control yourself. She pulled your body impossibly closer and buried her own face into the top of your hair while she continued to fuck you.

With her lips now free, Maya began repeating the absolute filthiest things to you as her fingers kept hitting just the right spot. “You feel so fucking good around my fingers,” she groaned as she continued to pump into you. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you cum all over my fingers.” All you could do was moan into her neck and grind into your fingers, trying your best to take them even deeper. Maya kept her pace until she felt you tighten around her fingers. Your nails were digging into her skin through her shirt and with one long moan, barely muffled into her shoulder, she felt you cum. Eventually, she slowed her movements to a stop and let your body slump against hers. Your hands relaxed their hold on her back, but you still kept your arms around her.

The room was silent, apart from the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. Maya pulled her fingers out of you slowly and a shiver ran throughout your body, but you stayed with your head buried in her shoulder. Honestly, you just didn’t want to face her. Now that the heat of the moment was starting to wear off, the shame was setting in. You threw caution to the wind and now you knew pain was coming. To add to all of it, you let her fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom of all places.

Surprisingly, Maya’s arms didn’t leave you. In fact, she didn’t pull away at all. Instead, you felt her lips press to the top of your head. Another moment passed like that and one of her hands moved to run through your hair. The softness of it all was shocking to you. Definitely not a usual move of Maya’s after a night like this with her.

“Come home with me,” she finally whispered.

“Maya…” you tried to pull back from her, but her arms tightened around you and held you still against her body.

“It’ll be different this time.” She was clearly nervous as she spoke. You didn’t answer her, instead you let her continue to hold you against her. Your mind was weighing your options, trying to gauge how serious she was, but then she whispered a gentle, “Please… I promise it’ll be different.” Without a doubt, you heard the sincerity in her tone that time and, finally, you nodded in agreement.

That night she took you home with her. Jack watched from the bar, trying to cover his knowing smirk with his drink as Maya proudly walked you past him and out of there. To your relief, Maya kept her promise. For the first night, you fell asleep in her strong arms. There was still much to talk about and in all of this Maya still hadn’t actually told you how she felt. But you knew, deep down, you knew you meant something to her. Right now, that was enough.

A/N: Just so you know, next time I write for Maya... I want to destroy her emotionally. So send me some angst requests

taglist: @demonicbaby666 @storiesofsvu @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay

Join my taglist here

#maya bishop x reader #maya bishop x you #station 19 fic #maya bishop fic #maya bishop #wlw #fanfic #smut #five-bi-five-mind #andhetoldmeiwasholy

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foibles-fables · 5 months ago

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Fic Author Self-Rec!

Thanks for the tag, @contrivedchaos!!!

The Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Here's a list of five of my current most highly-favored pieces, in no particular order. There's some overlap with the last time I did this, but also some new pieces!

leave the horror here (ATLA, Rangshi, T) - it's always intimidating writing for a new fandom, but I ended up pleased with a bunch of separate pieces of this one. I love a good missing scene, and it felt necessary to explore more of the immediate aftermath of the final fight. These girls have my whole heart.

dream geometries (Control, Jesse/Emily, T) - my first fic for these two, and hopefully not the last! A quick and intimidating dip into the liminality and weirdness that makes this franchise so cool. I was pretty pleased with how this brief piece turned out!

rest like you belong here. (Horizon, Aloy/Talanah, T) - a missing scene from HZD in which hurt/comfort and gay subtext abound. This was my first Hawk and Thrush fic ever, and it still holds a super special place in my heart. It's fun to see how far I've come since then--and it was really rewarding to dive into Aloy's head right as she's on the precipice of allowing her own vulnerabilities to be seen and addressed.

gray areas and expectations (Horizon, Aloy/Talanah, M) - an exploration of intimate vulnerability and Aloy's character via endearingly awkward sexual content. Started as a joke post on discord, sparked itself into a concept I come back to time and time again.

carrying heat (Horizon, Aloy/Yarra, M) - listen. this ship is sooooo underrated and it was a ton of fun to write this piece from Yarra's POV. Another jokey sort of piece that turned into something more navel-gazey and exploratory. I look back on this one fondly.

Tagging: @mehoymalloy @finrays @tjerra14 @sssammich @eqt-95 and anyone else who sees this and would like to participate! just claim me as your tagger--spread the love!

#aloy x talanah #jesse faden x emily pope #rangshi #aloy x yarra #fanfic self-recs #tag game #foibles_fables #atla #horizon forbidden west #control

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shayshaybiscuit25 · 16 days ago

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To the last few anons, THANK YOU! I’m going through severe mental health issues myself and I’m using various vises including alcohol and other legal substances in order just to get through the day let alone week and for the longest while I thought I was projecting my shit onto him, but I too see clear as day something is off and he’s definitely coping.

I’m not labeling him nor diagnosing him with anything, so don’t anyone dare attack me, but when you’ve been in that negative mental space and you’re in a situation that’s detrimental, it’s so easy to see it clear as day when others are struggling, while everyone else thinks oh he’s purposely doing this and that and call you crazy or claim you’re trying to start something just because we acknowledge Chris is human. I understand being mad, but please know there is more here than most realize. This is why I got invested in this mess, Chris is in some deep shit and he’s hurting. Regardless if he chose this in the beginning p, it’s gone too far and seems out of his control. That’s not an excuse, that’s reality.

My prayers are with Chris because I don’t know the full story, but all I know is it looks bad and I can tell if he could get out he would. Dude is stressed, he’s drinking during interviews and I’m sure having a fandom who thinks they know you yet is still falling for this orchestrated shit while believing they are calling you out on nonsense and who curse you out and call you names due to your involvement in a situation they don’t know, where it’s clear something is wrong, only makes matters worse.

Anyway everyone who wants to go see Red One, it’s a fun movie and Chris did a good job, end of story!

Thanks for this insight.

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chaifootsteps · 10 months ago

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I have to apologize Chai, because I don't want to use your askbox as a way to talk to morons who don't understand how badly they just doxxed certain people.

The things I deleted off my blog were personal. Things like, selfies, my professional/private accounts, and whatnot. I'm not deleting my internet history or possible kinks because I do not give a fuck. I also changed my Tumblr name entirely and may or may not have stopped liking Chai's posts because I'm afraid of getting doxxed and harassed.

I've had death threats sent to me before in the past for completely unrelated things, and I've had to call the FBI for people stalking me and my boyfriend in the past. Some whackjob thought movies my partner made were "real" and knew our location and said my partner would "star in a real snuff film." I also have author friends who have been stalked and harassed by crazy fans of theirs.

Fun fact! One of my friends received a letter from the BTK Killer years ago from prison saying how he liked my friend's books. I do NOT fuck around with being doxxed and harassed.

You claim that "You're not dragging anyone into this" while you LITERALLY POSTED A SCREENSHOT OF OUR TUMBLR NAMES and said to "sniff around" our accounts for the crime of *checks notes* liking Chai's posts.

I had to call my therapist yesterday because this brought up bad memories, and this fandom has a bad habit of harassing and doxxing people they don't like, all for a creator who doesn't know or care that they exist.

I'm fine now, but I really wish you would take down that screenshot. It's a complete violation of privacy, and none of us, especially Ken (who you keep misgendering by the way), deserve to be harassed.

And we're not roaches. We're human beings with lives and only want to see justice for the people who Viv has hurt. I could give 2 fucks about her shows. I care more about real people. Chai, myself, and tons of others will never stop fighting for the justice that these people deserve.

And Chai? Unless screenshots of you grooming minors or your internet history comes up with real animal dick, I know you're not a pedo or zoo.

But Viv has tons of characters with animal dicks and named her rapist character after her beloved dead cat.... not mention the long history of pedophilia type shit in her work. Berghaus.

Also if you screenshot this to gloat? Make sure you post the whole thing, okay bud?

I'm so over all this shit, man.

They'd better screenshot the whole thing if they're going to. This fandom needs to realize there's a consequence to their playacting.

#Anonymous #vivziepop fandom #viv stuff #actual blog post

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thegamingcatmom · 4 months ago

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First off I absolutely love this page, you are doing this fandom a great service and i love seeing your thoughts and opinions on the denalis💜 was just wondering how you think the sisters would react to their mate defending their honour like if someone was bothering them at the club and their mate punched them...sorry for the long ass post...seriously though your keeping the thirst for the denalis alive

-👻(hope this emoji isn't already claimed)

Hey 👻!

(That is the cutest thing, btw.)

First off: I apologize for the long wait. To you and anyone else who´s sent me an ask that I have yet to answer. I see them, and I will get to them at some point. (Some of them are sitting half-answered in my drafts actually, hehe.) 🙏❤️

Tysm for your words. I´ve said it before and I will keep saying it: It is you guys who keep the thirst alive just as much with your lovely words of inspiration. ❤️

Also: Pls NEVER apologize for the length of your ask. That goes to all of you. I TAKE EM ALL. (The longer the better actually, and my thirsty ass is not ashamed to admit it.)

NOW, to your ask:

(Content warning: It´s gonna get rather steamy towards the end...)

(From left to right: Tanya, Irina, Kate)

I think that pretty much sums up their feelings on the matter, LMAO.

Like, they´ll be torn between being worried sick because their hooman is fragile and tiny and very much breakable, and what if you´ve seriously HURT yourself with such a reckless action-

...and other things. 😏

So, the first thing they´ll do is be right up in your face. And I mean it. Like, sticking their heads together as each of them fights to be the most in-your-face, their eyes scanning you from head to toe, hands squishing your face à la fishface only to run them all over you to make sure you´re not broken.

(They tend to get a smidge dramatic in such moments. Moments where there´s a possibility you´ve obtained a scratch, that is.)

It is only when they are 100% certain you´re unharmed that their fear turns into rage. And their attention turns to-

...Yeah, you better run. You whoever has dared to try and claim what has already been claimed. Trying to put your slimy hands on them, leading to this whole mess (you obtaining not a single scratch but could have, that is) in the first place.

Ohh...they´re pissed. So pissed they´re struggling not to show some actual teeth-

How the turns have tabled. Now it´s you who is all up in their faces, trying to calm them down by whispering sweet nothings, touching their faces, gently stroking their arms and chests and just anywhere you can reach. Not an easy feat, considering you have to start anew with the first one once you are through with the last, flitting back and forth the line like you´re trying to prevent pots from boiling over.

Once you´re certain this place (the club or wherever this takes place) isn´t about to become obliberated in vampiric rage, you turn around to tend to-

(Yes, it´s three of em f*ckers.)

You don´t shout. You don´t try to punch them again (mostly because you´ve just managed to calm your still very enraged mates...no need to tempt fate). You don´t even look mad or angry anymore - on the contrary.

You´re quiet, almost too quiet. Gazing at the three of them with an expression that is a dangerous mix between tediousness and vexation because all you´d wanted was a peaceful and fun night out with the ones you hold most dear. Was that really too much to ask??

In other words: You are thoroughly done with shit.

"I think it´s best you leave," you drawl, even going so far as to incline your head in the direction of the exit.

They remain rooted to the spot, uncertainty written all over their faces. You know exactly what´s running through their heads right now - you´ve been there, a long time ago. Torn between disbelief and astonishment as basic survival instincts tell them to run, and fast. As far as their feet would carry them because whatever is glaring daggers at them over your shoulders right now, something deep down their guts tells them it is not entirely human.

One of them opens his mouth regardless, no doubt to tell you that you can shove it with a bravado that´s more show than substance. Anything to appear bigger than he is, in that moment. You don´t know whether to feel pity or admiration for his bravery. Perhaps a bit of both.

Granted, this is a public establishment and they have every right to be here just like you do. But, at this point, you really fear for what might happen if they were to stay. You are doing them a favor, they just don´t realize it.

"...Now," you cut him off before he can get started, raising your eyebrows as your gaze darts between them, hoping your tone and expression - hidden from the shadows looming behind you - are enough to get the message across:

Turns out, it is enough.

They nearly trip over each other on their way out, drawing the curious gazes of other partygoers.

Good riddance...hopefully.

You turn back around to face your wives with a sigh, hoping you can all just pick up where you left off before those three buffoons made lewd advances towards your women, almost getting themselves extinguished in the process, those idiots-

...Only to find them already looking at you, their expressions quite...odd. They strangely resemble the very trio that just fled the establishment, saving their sorry asses from meeting a rather grim fate, no doubt. There is this mixture of disbelief and astonishment on their faces, sprinkled with...something else.

This feels like your very first meeting all over again.

"...What?" you ask when they simply continue to stare at you. You know vampires don´t have the same need for movement as humans do, unless it´s to catch their prey. But this is getting...awkward.

Then, finally-

Kate is the first to recover, her flabberghasted expression slowly morphing into a, quite literally, wolfish grin as she breaks formation and nearly floats over to you.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, her hands settling on her favorite spot to pull you closer, kneading the flesh she finds there. "Look at our little spitfire, making them all run with their tails between their legs like kicked puppies..."

You release a good-natured scoff at your wife´s silliness, about to correct her by pointing out it had very likely been their looming presence behind you that sent the trio running for the hills.

However, her lips press against yours in a wet kiss before you can do so.

Not that you´re complaining.

A sigh escapes you as you wholeheartedly return it, your hands coming to rest against her chest before wandering up to cradle her face as your embrace deepens in passion.

Things are about to spiral out of control, you can feel it. Kate always has that effect on you. Her daring nature is infectious, making you feel as if the rules and expectations of society apply to everyone but you, and if she were to take you right here, right on this floor, you would gladly-

Hands on your chest yank you away then, breaking the kiss you and Kate shared. Your back collides with a wall, the hands on your chest firmly pushing you against it before a different pair of lips finds your neck. They´re running up and down at a leisure pace, only stopping to press even closer - you feel something wet - before they continue. Then, the pressure of teeth clamping down-

Tanya.

"Now, now, sestra..." Kate´s voice grumbles through the haze, barely a whisper to you, before you feel hands settling on your backside again, squeezing as they try to pull you closer. "Sharing is caring..."

The other side of your neck is being attacked then, and all you´re able to do is crane your head back, offering yourself up like a sacrifice to the gods as each of them devours you in a way that is far from holy-

"Tsk..." Ice envelops your hand then, the chill touch chasing away most of the dense fog that had settled just about everywhere. "Trust the wolves not to leave a single crumb..."

It´s you who is floating now as Irina pulls you close, handling you with an urgency that is so different from her sisters´ as she demands her share. Hands come to rest against your backside again, but they don´t squeeze. Instead, they simply hold on, only tightening their grip to pull you closer before lifting you up until the only thing that remains grounded are the tips of your toes.

"What a delight you are, maličký..." A flowery fragrance wraps around you as your mate´s forehead comes to rest against yours. "Defending the honor of three poor maidens in distress..."

Nothing about your wives is even remotely maidenlike.

The thought makes you snort, which earns you a rather firm clap! on your bum before her lips silence the squeak that wanted to slip out just then.

"Hm...she was quite the sight, was she not?" Tanya´s hand runs up and down your back in a near soothing manner, a stark contrast to the forcefulness she displayed just moments before.

"I think some gratitude is in order..." Kate purrs from somewhere behind you as she draws closer, her heeled boots click-clacking on the hardwood floor. "What do you say, sisters? Shall we show our savior just how grateful we are...?"

After that, everything seems to blur together. You don´t know how you got there, but you´re home before you realize it. The bedroom door closes behind you, clothes fall, and you come to the conclusion that-

Who the fuck cares?

OR:

This is one of the very rare times where your wives don´t mind sharing you...

...So don´t be an idiot by questioning any of it.

So...

This got a lot steamier than I thought it was gonna be. But, somehow, I don´t think any of you are complaining... 😏

Things that have stoked the fire here:

Alibi (that song I swear)

Rhaenyra x Someone kissing (don´t wanna reveal too much in case any of you hasn´t seen it yet)

Right so, I think it´s safe to say that one should never approach a hooman and their three drop dead gorgeous yet very much capable of ending your existence vampire-wives on their Girls´ Night Out.

Just...don´t do it, resist the urge. You´ll thank me for it later.

OR:

You have the power of the (Un)holy Trinity at your hands, and ppl would do well to remember that...

Thanks a lot for your lovely ask! 💋💋💋

#tumblr asks #twilight #the twilight saga #the denalis #denali coven #denali sisters #the unholy trinity #tanya denali #kate denali #irina denali #fem reader

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