#editing can go die in a hole

[clowningaroundmars]

absolutely OBSESSED with dumb phones out of nowhere ahaha*

*me when i lie

[maisanshine]

#𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍| 𝐉𝐉𝐊

He didn’t even cross my mind

The playlist series

Paring- one nightstand!Jungkook X one nightstand!reader

Warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, breeding, marking, pussy eating, pussy slapping, cum eating, fingering, overstimulation, somonphila?,

WC: 592

A/N; this one is short:) can y'all believe this man is 27 years old?

Now Playing #Icanteven - the neighborhood

Not edited

☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

“I could fuck you forever baby girl” jungkooks head is deep in the curve of your neck. His hard cock pressing up against the lewd walls of your cum filled cunt.

Your phone with 6 missed calls from your boyfriend, forgotten on the Jungkook’s coffee table.

Your hand aches from the grip you have on his back. Marking your nails into his pale skin.

Jungkook pulls out of your cunt. Placing paperweight kisses down your neck then on the valley of your breast, your stomach until he lands in front of your pussy.

He looks at the sight smiling. He licks a long stripe collecting the fallen cum off your lips. You moan tired, you've been at it for hours. Your mind is heavy, body satisfied. The only thing you need is a trip to dreamland.

For at least a minute or two. Jungkook licks you again waking you up. You flinch. Moving your head. “Don’t if so bad anymore huh?” he says. Warping his arms around your thighs.

You can't hear him, you just hear ringing in your ears. Are you even alive? You don't know, you feel numb like you are lying on a cloud.

Your eyes shut, and you feel soft vibrations through your body. The darkness behind your eyes is comforting, relaxing. You feel Jungkook’s passion against you.

Jungkook rubs his nose into you, licking you clean. He’s face deep in your pussy. His tongue brushes up every edge of you. He could die between your legs. Crazy how you two met 3 hours ago. He can't believe it.

Jungkook looks up at you. Your body is stiff but you continue making little noises for him. You are nearly asleep. Jungkook slaps your wet cunt, you flinch. “Cum for me one more time baby, please?”

“Huh?” falls out your lips, you're so delirious. Jungkook chuckles, he fingers you. Fucking his cum into you. He licks you sucking and fingering your simulated clit.

“ you didn't answer my questions baby?” you slumped your head to the other side.

“What…did…you…say?” Jungkook repays his question. “You don’t feel bad for cheating on your man anymore?” You shake your head. Your eyes shut completely.

“ you need to speak, I’m head deep in this cunt of yours baby” You open your eyes.

You look down seeing Jungkook, your eyes are tired and heavy. Is he still going? Four nuts inside you weren’t enough for him. He just had to eat you out too? You think.

You drop your head back on the couch. How did you even get on the couch? You were in his bed? Jungkook takes you out of your train of thought. With his fingers moving faster. He adds another, licking you faster. Your body tensing.

“Fuck” you can’t move, you too tired. “No I don’t feel bad, he didn’t even pass my mind” You touch Jungkook’s head. Softly scratching his head.

Your cunt is pulsing faster by the second. Your body is on fire. As if you ran for 7 miles without stopping. Jungkook’s fingers move faster, his tongue slips into your hole. You flinch, the muscle brushing against you. You moan.

“Jungkook, I’m going to” You can barely speak. You cum on his face. Your body shaking. Heart racing you can’t take it anymore. You crying from exhaustion.

Jungkook licks your fluids off his lips and upper lip. He stands up, carrying you to bed. “I’m so glad baby, he I can't even-” You don’t get to hear the last of his sentence. You knocked out.

[xinganhao]

🍂 svt (taylor's version).

⌗ ┆love song edition ★ ₊ ˚ heartbreak edition.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: angst... so much angst, deteriorating relationships, break-ups, exes, red flags -ish, mentions of alcohol/drinking, cussing, pet names. drabbles under the cut.

🍂 hit play .ᐟ

SEUNGCHEOL SKIPPED 🎧 i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. (PEACE)

seungcheol can't meet any of his friends' eyes as he grumbles on and on about you. the boys think he's drunk off his ass at this point; truthfully, he can still see and think pretty clearly. a part of him feels like he's wasting your honor, to be so openly bitching and moaning about why he shouldn't, why he can't go back to you. the short story is that seungcheol doesn't want you to be collateral damage. with the life he lives? you'll always be in the line of fire. he'd rather cut ties than have that happen. but— when someone mumbles something about seungcheol probably not being that in love with you after all? about his love being 'for show'? he almost wants to scream. you don't know me, he nearly snaps. you don't know what i'd do for them. he'd die for you in secret.

JEONGHAN SKIPPED 🎧 you said it was a great love, one for the ages; but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? (DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS)

you don't say anything about jeonghan taking the long way home, which leaves him both grateful and frustrated. he wants you to call him out, wants you to question his intentions. anything but this. instead, you sit quietly in the passenger seat, basking in the aftermath of your last good day together. when jeonghan stops at an intersection, he dares to glance over at you. his fingers tighten imperceptibly around the steering wheel. there had been a time when the two of you kissed at red lights, when you'd quieted all his fears with the touch of your hand. there's none of that now. you keep your eyes on the road ahead, feigning ignorance at the way jeonghan is driving way below the speed limit. the light turns green; he curses the universe for it. he doesn't want to go home. going home meant sleeping, and sleeping meant waking up to a morning where you'd no longer be his.

JOSHUA SKIPPED 🎧 you had a speech, you're speechless. love slipped beyond your reaches and i couldn't give a reason. (CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS)

joshua had watched a dozen videos about how to get down on one knee when proposing. he didn't realize he'd be on both knees, begging you to stay. that's why his right knee— the one that hadn't expected the cold ground— is just a little sore. he kneads it mindlessly, watching blankly as the city flies by. he didn't even get to pull out the ring; it's still burning a hole in to his pocket. a blessing from his mother, a curse in the form of rose gold. he briefly contemplates leaving it in this train car for someone who might actually appreciate it, though he decides against it last minute. a thought occurs to him when he passes your station. it's enough to nearly make him laugh. (or burst in to tears. he can't quite decide.) joshua realizes: he's never going to be able to take a train again without thinking of you. somehow, that's even worse than the botched proposal.

JUNHUI SKIPPED 🎧 i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted. (MIDNIGHT RAIN)

both of junhui's hands are shaking as he takes the stage. there's smattering applause, then there's a trophy being shoved towards him, then there's the glare of a dozen cameras. he thanks his manager. he thanks his fans, his family, his friends. "and—" his breath hitches. it's a good thing that he's such a great actor. otherwise, one might've seen the flicker of pain on his expression. because he's thinking of you. wondering whether you're watching live or if you'll see clips of this on your sns later in the week. will you reach out again? or will he be left spending many midnights waiting for a text that's not going to come? he pivots, his eyes seeking out the closest broadcast camera. "and here's to getting just what we wanted," he says smoothly, flashing a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. this is why he keeps trying to win— so you'll have no choice but to think of him, too.

SOONYOUNG SKIPPED 🎧 choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me. (YOU'RE LOSING ME)

"i'm the best thing at this party!" you screech, making soonyoung's face flush red with shame. he casts a glance around his surroundings to check if anybody is witnessing your outburst. big mistake. that only seems to aggravate you more. he reaches out for you, his hands closing around the groove of your wrist. there had been a time when he used to feel your pulse flutter at his touch, at his mere presence. there's none of that tonight. he's beginning to think that it hasn't been that way for a long time. you greet his hold with stormy eyes and gritted teeth, with a low hiss of "i only wanted you to see me." he wants to refute your tirade, wants to say that of course he sees you. he's looking right now, isn't he? he's— he's losing you before his very eyes and he doesn't know what to do.

WONWOO SKIPPED 🎧 if our love died young, i can't bear witness. (RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME)

"the usual?" the pitying waiter asks wonwoo. he gives her a close-lipped smile and a nod in return. when she goes in to punch his order, he feels that odd sense of nostalgia. a twisted, treacherous feeling borne from the fact that he's still visiting this damn restaurant. still asking for the seat in the corner, where the light is dim and the tablecloth is a crisp white. first real date. first anniversary. break-up. this corner has seen it all. wonwoo is twenty-eight now, but he feels twenty-three in his fantasy. as he picks at his appetizer, he imagines the new life you lead. somewhere nice with someone who's giving you everything that he can't. he doesn't blame you for leaving, for not waiting. that doesn't make it hurt any less, though. five years later, wonwoo still thinks he's going to stay here forever.

JIHOON SKIPPED 🎧 but there was one thing missing and that was the moment i knew. (THE MOMENT I KNEW)

the seaweed soup on the counter has gotten cold by the time that jihoon slips in to your apartment. you're splayed out on the couch in a fitful sleep. he realizes you haven't even changed, haven't washed off your makeup. it's all still there: the party dress, the red lipstick. all the evidence of jihoon's failure. he knows where this is heading. he sees the ending that he deserves from a mile away. still, he leaves on your coffee table a usb of what he'd been working on. he drapes a blanket over your shoulders. he considers kissing you on the forehead but he decides against it at the last minute. he doesn't think he has that privilege. instead, he takes his leave, knowing that if this was the last gift he got to give you, then he'd be somewhat content. he's always been better at speaking through his work anyway, but tonight that wasn't enough.

★ in the morning, you find the song jihoon had been working on for you:

MINGYU SKIPPED 🎧 i guess you never know; and if you wanted me, you really should've showed. (THE 1)

it shouldn't be this easy, catching up with a what-could-have-been. but mingyu still finds it to be the most comforting thing in the world. maybe too much, though, because as the two of you discuss the greatest films of all time, the alcohol makes his tongue just a little more loose. "if one thing had been different," he muses. "would everything be different today?" you know what he's asking, what he's implying. you answer his prodding with a measured sip of your own beer. he laughs, figuring he deserves that. you're not here to talk about marriage pacts and maybe's. this is nothing more than a drinking session with an old friend; mingyu tries to remind himself of that. he pushes the envelope just a teensy, tiny bit. "it would've been fun," he says as nonchalantly as he can manage. his mind quietly supplies the rest of the sentence: it would've been fun if you had been the one.

SEOKMIN SKIPPED 🎧 you can plan for a change in the weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind. (LAST KISS)

it's a special kind of pain, to watch someone's life unfold in pictures. it's the only place that seokmin can catch you nowadays. the squares of instagram. the tagged photos on facebook. you, looking like the life of the party. you, dancing on a rained-out pavement. he's pathetic, he knows, to be stalking an ex's sns like this. but the night is lonely and his phone has the answers to all of his questions about you. well, maybe not all of the questions. he's gnawing his bottom lip as his fingers fly over his keyboard, but it's not to reach out to you. he doesn't want to put you through that; he'll harrow everybody else before he does. the last few connections you two share have all heard from seokmin in one way or another. how are they? he'll text casually. they look like they're doing well.

MINGHAO SKIPPED 🎧 i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (TOLERATE IT)

minghao waits by the door like a child reprimanded. you're a couple of paces away from him, bent over the kitchen sink— polishing plates that are already clean. it's an old habit of yours. a telltale sign that something's wrong. he almosts takes your hands in his to keep you from all your nervous tics, but then you speak. "if it's all in my head, tell me now. tell me i've got it wrong," you say, not even bothering to look up at him. minghao has never lied to you; he was not about to start now. and so he stays quiet, giving you all the answers you need. it's not all in your head. you're not wrong, his silence communicates. there's only so much of his indiscretions that you can tolerate. minghao, like always, sits and watches you— watches you learn, watches you lose, watches you leave.

SEUNGKWAN SKIPPED 🎧 sometimes i really wish that i could hate you; i've tried, but that's just somethin' i can't do. (DON'T YOU)

seungkwan will be the first to admit that he doesn't know how to be just friends with you. he wants to. wants to keep that connection in his life, wants to move past the failed relationship for the sake of your camaraderie. but as much as he tries to walk away and go on with his life, he knows it will all just be pretend. he finds someone else. that doesn't work out. he watches you try, too, with others, only for that to fall through as well. and so seungkwan is just a little guilty of smiling at you, of running in to you somewhere and staring just a little too long. he doesn't have the right to say the next couple of words, but he's also never been good at denying himself of the truth. "i missed you," he admits. past tense, he notices, so he amends. "i miss you."

VERNON SKIPPED 🎧 in my dreams, you're touching my face and asking me if i'd want to try again with you— and i almost do. (I ALMOST DO)

vernon has had a long week, thanks for asking. he would have wanted to see the city lights. and he dreams of you, too— montages where you're touching his face, asking if he wants to try again. the answer is simple; the answer is 'yes'. but he's a believer of clean cuts, of movies without sequels. so each time you reach out, there's no reply. the last couple of texts has vernon sighing because he knows what you're thinking. he knows how you think. you've probably concluded that he hates you, that he has better things to do with his time. truthfully, he's been fighting every single impulse to respond. to call just for the sake of hearing your voice. he can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye. he wouldn't survive it.

CHAN SKIPPED 🎧 dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief in the good in the world; you once believed in me. (HITS DIFFERENT)

chan knows he's being insufferable. he knows he's being attention-seeking, knows he's a little petty and a lot unfair. but he can't help it. the mere thought of you with someone else makes him want to hurl on the side of the street. and so he scream-sings your favorite songs in every club; he slurs your name until his friends are shoving him in to an uber. "their love was a lie, you know?" one of them tells him, one particular evening. chan only laughs in their face. that shit was not going to get him by. chan would rather have a raging hangover every morning than think you didn't love him. he'll get over it eventually, he's sure. for now, though, he orders his nth cocktail, much to his friends' exasperation. moving on had always been easy for him to do, but then came you.

[thecapricunt1616]

Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

♡ One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.

♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)

♡ W/C: 4,140

♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024

♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D

♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep. 

He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties. 

You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed. 

 Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes. 

That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to. 

Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds. 

Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom. 

You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt. 

You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips. 

“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you. 

The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently. 

The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust. 

You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys. 

“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness 

“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back. 

You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg. 

“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips. 

“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek. 

“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas 

He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly. 

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him 

He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him. 

“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source. 

“Shit-“  he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you. 

“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly. 

“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty. 

Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it. 

“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders 

“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source. 

“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light 

“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes. 

“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him. 

“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot. 

“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected. 

“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips. 

“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head 

“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt. 

“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you 

“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted. 

You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had. 

“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down. 

“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm. 

“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit 

“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended. 

“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased 

He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained 

“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway. 

Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day. 

People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it. 

“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude. 

“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage. 

“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously. 

“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow. 

“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like��like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his. 

“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away. 

“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses. 

“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.  

You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly. 

“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern. 

“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me” 

You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm. 

“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit. 

“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so. 

“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously. 

“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly 

“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’ 

“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make. 

“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit 

“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently 

He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval. 

You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder. 

He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy 

“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently. 

“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”

[neteyamssock]

🧸ྀི 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓮, pt. 1

★ ˙🧷 ̟ pairing: amnesiac agedup! neteyam x fem!metkayina!hermit!reader

★ ˙🧷 ̟ summary: neteyam didn't die during the fight, but instead got swept away by the waves, until he lost consciousness near the shore of your island.

★ ˙🧷 ̟ word count: 5.6k

★ ˙🧷 ̟tags/cw: agedup!characters, younger neteyam (18 up), older reader (20 up), amnesia, temporary memory loss, near death experience, falling in love, cohabitation, tsawke (sun) x syulang (flower), affectionate neteyam, neteyam's love language: act of service, reclusive but not introverted reader. (please tell me if I left out something!!)

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !! A/N: this will be a twoshot fic! a rough draft, so it's unedited. will come back to revise and edit after my exams!! mwah. any feedback from you guys will be very much appreciated 🥹. text dividers credits to @/enchanthings and @/cinetrix for adult neteyam

MASTERLIST

★ ˙🧷 ̟ part i.

The waves of the ocean are restless, roaring in anger as the sky goes deeper into the eclipse. The sound of water hitting the shore is ticking you off, you can barely fall asleep because you would be shook awake by the thunderous roar of the water. Tonight is different. Something is different. You are used to storms and rough waves of the ocean, living alone on this small isolated island for almost half of your life. There has never been an instance that you couldn’t sleep during fierce weathers, in fact you find them comforting, reminding you of Eywa's presence in your solitude.

But tonight is not your normal night. Something is calling you to the beach, beckoning you, tempting you to step outside the comfort of your marui. You know it's dangerous, but the urge is like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Something perturbing is on the shore, and it must be Eywa pulling you to discover what’s on the other side.

So against your better judgment, you walked cautiously as the wind blew against you, messing your hair and pulling your beaded top up to your neck. You cursed as you tried to tighten the strings of your top, already regretting coming out of your warm and comforting marui. The raindrops were cold against your skin, making you hiss. Whatever is at the shore, it better be worth your time or else you’ll be having a word with great mother Eywa.

You clutched the spear in your right hand as you tried to cover your face with the other, keeping the water from clouding your vision as you walked near to the shore. Quickly, you noticed a figure lying on the sand, unmoving, as the waves cradled the figure’s body.

“Hey! Are you okay?” You spoke in na’vi, but the wind was too loud so you walked closer, watching the unmoving intruder cautiously. When it remained motionless, you cursed and walked closer.

Oh great mother. I thought you brought me gifts. I didn’t expect it to be a dying man!

The first thing you noticed was their skin color, a lot darker than yours, shade different too. Their tails were slimmer, arms a lot thinner. They couldn’t possibly be a metkayina. On their neck was a beaded necklace you often see in other clans’ warriors. You just weren't sure what clan he’s from. So he’s a warrior, that makes sense why he's wounded. But he's obviously not an aquatic na’vi. .

His breathing was faint, chest barely moving. He looks like he’s almost at Eywa’s embrace, and based on her multiple urging of you, it’s easy to understand that she definetly didn’t want this young warrior to die yet.

Searching for his wound, you saw a small hole near his chest, continously bleeding with debris of sand inside the wound. Grunting, you pulled him up and immediately checked whether there’s an exit wound. Seeing none, you finally let go of your breath. Okay. that’s good. I can work with that.

With all of your strength, you carried the dying warrior back to your marui, settling him on your bed as you quickly prepared all your tools and healing medicines. The first thing you did was to check if there’s any debris deep inside the wound. This is crucial, for a wound would never heal if there’s debris stuck inside. You worked quickly, and was surprised when your prodding tool bumped into something hard. The unconscious man groaned with pain, but his eyes remained closed.

“I’m sorry, mighty warrior, but this might hurt a lot. Unfortunately, i don’t have anything to stop the pain at the moment. Ready?” With quick movements, you retrieved the debris inside the wound, instantly perplexed when you saw it was a piece of metal with a weird shape. You almost forgot your patient until you felt him tremble.

You winced, “Sorry, I was just curious. Is this a new weapon from your clan? Looks odd, and definitely against Eywa’s rules.”

Of course no one replied. You set aside the odd-looking metal and refocused on the bleeding wound. You cleaned it up and started patching it up. It took you few hours to finish, and when you did, you were already sweating a lot.

With a sigh, you patted the young warrior’s pale cheek gently. “I’m done, mighty warrior. Now its your battle to fight. May Eywa be with you, brother.”

It's been three days since you took in this patient. He hasn't woken up yet, but his breathing has stabilized. He also stopped bleeding and regained some color in his cheeks and lips. He's just basically recuperating right now and will wake soon enough.

You took this time to observe his facial features and was surprised to see he’s actually very good looking. You were so focused on saving his life that you barely noticed his appearance. He was a lot taller than you, with wide shoulders and thin waist. His calloused hands undeniably belonged to a warrior that uses bow and arrow, long fingers that you often stare at, as you watch him sleep.

You weren't sure what happened to him, but you're happy he’s fighting to survive. You wouldn't want to have a corpse of a fallen warrior in your marui after all. Oftentimes you would imagine what had transpired, what and where that odd-looking metal came from, and how powerful it was to almost send him back to Eywa’s embrace.

You laughed at your own thoughts, musing to yourself. “You look good, mighty warrior. Are you perhaps mated? If not, then how about me?”

You paused, then laughed as if you found yourself funny. “Nevermind. You seem too young for me. Although it makes you much more interesting, as you seem to have passed your iknimaya already.”

You turned away from your patient and began sharpening your spear, not noticing the finger of your patient—the one you just touched a moment ago—began twitching before settling back to normal once again.

You continued speaking. “I have done half of my iknimaya as well, although it's not considered official? Since I wasn't on metkayina and there's no elders to perform the ceremony for me. Not that important though. The only thing that is important is that I already have my own tsurak. Her name is hona.”

Inspecting your new sharpened spear, you sighed with contentment. Although alone, you enjoy your life on this island. You don't mind the solitude, as if you were born to be alone.

You know your family still hopes you’d go back home, to awa’atlu, but you figured your presence will not affect anything anyways. So you left under your parents’ regretful gazes and lived all your life on this island, surviving on your own.

There will be a time where your past will come back to haunt you, mess with your peace, and forcefully take you away from this place you have considered your home.

But for now, you’d enjoy your freedom. You just didn't expect to pick up a wounded stranger with a lot of mysteries you cannot wait to uncover.

“You must recover well, mighty warrior. Your family must be worried sick about you right now. Perhaps they might even think you're dead. So get better soon and leave, alright?”

As much as he looks good, he’s a stranger. You have basically completed Eywa’s request, so it's no longer your problem once he has recovered. He might fly with an ikran, or swim with an ilu, you do not care. You just want him to regain his strength and let him go back to where he's supposed to be.

You stood up and took your spear, ready to hunt for food and probably pick some herbs for your patient. These remaining days are important for his recovery. If he gets sick midway, he might not survive.

You groaned, feeling the ache on your shoulders and back when you woke up in the morning. You have sacrificed yourself and laid on the flooring of your marui, while the sleeping warrior slept in your bed comfortably.

You couldn't help but to fume in anger. This man better appreciate your efforts because if not, then both of you will have a problem.

Stretching your neck and shoulder, you groaned again. “Oh my Eywa, is this a punishment? Why must I suffer like this? What have I done?” You knew Eywa wouldn't respond. She only makes a connection or communication with you when she deems it necessary. With a sigh, you stood up and prepared yourself to hunt once again, feeling the rumble of your stomach.

As you are fixing your beaded top, you looked at your sleeping patient and sat on the side of the bed. “Wake up, will you? I’m so tired of sleeping on the floor. You’ve been hogging my bed since you came here. Don’t you have any shame?”

When your stomach rumbled again, you turned your head and stood up as you took your spear and headed outside. It was already noon when you came back with a basket of fish, several edible fruits and herbal medicine. You didn't pay attention to the man inside your home as you quickly prepared your lunch, not seeing the man’s lips twitching to form a smile.

You didn't forget to thank Eywa for the food, offering your sincere prayers as you pay respect for the fishes you hunted. “May Eywa be with you, little fishes. For now, please help me fill my belly.”

As you were about to walk back inside the marui, you froze in shock to see the sleeping warrior now sitting on the bed, calmly observing you. His amber eyes were scanning you, as if determining your level of threat to him, of what your capabilities are. You didn't care about his mistrustful eyes as you walked briskly towards him.

Clutching your chest, you exclaimed. “Wiya! Thank Eywa you finally woke up! Oh Eywa! This is great!”

Your surprise and joy made the man finally put his attention to you. “Who are you?” He asked, voice laced with authority as he scrutinized you. His mistrustful eyes made you roll your eyes. Oh Eywa, he’s one of those guys, isn’t he? The ones with their nose taller than their foreheads.

With the tone of his voice, your enthusiasm waned. You crossed your arms as your ears flattened against your head. “What do you think, young warrior?”

Seeing him non-responsive, you pointed to your bed and said. “I’m the one who saved you from returning to your great mother’s embrace, brother. The bed you are sitting on is mine. This marui is mine. This island is mine.”

His eyes widened, before he settled into a confused silence. It seems that he’s finally having some recollection of what happened to him. You let him think to himself and went back to your lunch, thanking Eywa for hearing your prayers.

You can finally sleep in your bed, after several nights of sleeping on a cold hard floor.

“... Do you know me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, looking at you searchingly, seemingly confused and anxious.

You see his ears twitch and his tail flicking around in anxiety. A sense of foreboding dominated you. Please don't tell me… “No, I do not. I just happen to see you wounded on the shore of my island, that's why I brought you here. D-Do you not remember who you are?”

“... It seems not.”

With a defeated groan, you kicked the basket in frustration. “Pxasik! Don’t tell me you do not remember where you came from either?”

The young warrior glanced at you before shaking his head. He also looked distraught, it's probably very scary for him, remembering nothing. Waking up in a very unfamiliar place, with an aching body and a stranger reef na’vi girl. One can only imagine the horror.

Suddenly feeling regretful with your reaction, you studied him and sighed. “It’s fine. It's a common occurrence when warriors get wounded heavily. You’ll remember it later. For now…”

Seeing your conflicted appearance, the young warrior said. “I’ll leave.”

Your eyes widened as you met his eyes. The young warrior looked at you resolutely, and you felt even worse.

“I don't want to burden you any longer, so I will leave and find my way back h—”

Walking towards him, you gently pushed him back to the bed. “Just stay. At least until you remember who you are. I’m sure it won't be long before you get your memories back. I’d hate to see you wander around not knowing where to go, not to mention you’re still recovering from a heavy wound.”

The handsome warrior seemed hesitant, looking at you with confused eyes. “B-But—”

Feeling a bit peeved, you kneeled, now face to face with him. “Listen, warrior. I would've let you go if you have your memories intact, because it means I have finished Eywa’s quest for me. But now that you lost your memories, it would be against my conscience to let you leave while still recovering from a fatal wound and don't know where to go.”

He looked at you and seeing your resolute eyes, he finally relented and nodded. In fact he also really didn't want to leave for now. He can barely move his body, his chest is aching, head pounding, and he also cannot remember who he is. He had no recollection of what had happened to him and just woke up to the scent of the ocean and the tang of herbal medicine in the air.

His only comfort is that he's still alive, that you managed to keep him alive. Just by the bandages in his chest and the weakness he felt, he knew he must've been close to surrendering into the great mother’s embrace. If you didn't show up at all, then he might have been dead by now.

“Irayo…”

“_______. My name is _______.”

“Irayo, ______. I owe you my life.” He savored your name in his lips, liking how it rolled off his tongue nicely. Your name suited you.

With a smile, you stood up and spoke. “Well you do, so better pay me up in the future once you get home. For now, we’re gonna live together for a few more days so I'd like to make some rules.”

The warrior nodded, he knows it's reasonable to have rules. “Tell me.”

Pointing the bed, you said. “Now that you are awake, I refuse to sleep on the floor. The bed is big enough for the two of us, so we can just share. Another thing is that when you can finally stand and move, I expect you to pull your own weight around here. Do not expect me to always hunt for you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, I understand.”

He seems a lot more obedient than you thought so you gave him a satisfied smile. “Well then, we have an agreement. For now I’ll hunt for you, since you are still recovering. And oh, btw. I’ll just call you warrior since both of us do not know your name. Will that be alright?”

Warrior didn't seem to mind as he nodded, observing your marui. It didn't escape your eyes as he appreciated your personal space, amazed and curious.

“This is called marui. Technically not a marui though because it's a bit farther away from the water compared to marui built above the water.”

The young warrior glanced at you, “We call them kelku.”

Throwing back your head, you laughed. The wounded warrior looked at you, perplexed why you suddenly laughed.

“Ah, it's so funny that you remember what’s the name of the place you sleep in, but not your name or your clan?”

Realization dawned on him. It seems that he also thought it was odd. It's clear that he actually didn't forget everything after all, and only needed some triggers to bring back his memories. Your ears twitch in approval. “It seems that it's gonna be easy to get back your memories. Way to go, warrior.”

He looked sheepish, and also a bit happy at your words. He also cannot wait to regain his memories, as there's a feeling of dread and worry in the back of his mind he cannot explain. You're probably right when you said that someone's worrying and waiting for him back home.

“The power must come from here, steady your hands and do not let your fingers tremble. Straighten your body, do not forget your breathing…”

You didn't know how it happened. When you realize what's going on, you already had a bow and arrow in your hand, and your wounded patient is now standing so close to you, looming over you like a shadow.

During these days, he abided by all your rules. He pulled his own weight, and he always managed to bring back food for the both of you. At first you want to refuse, you feel that it is not right to take a wounded man’s ration. However, he made it clear that he intentionally hunts and gathers food for two, so you do not have to hunt for yourself.

Such gestures are overwhelming to you, but you do not have the heart to refuse. So when he asked if you wanted to learn how to use bows and arrows, you only hesitated for a minute before you gave in to his warm and gentle amber eyes.

It's baffling how he managed to turn your life upside down in just a few days, and before you even knew it, he already had control over everything. It's infuriating, it’s making you feel something unfamiliar to you, but every time you want to complain, you find yourself mute under his patient and gentle gaze.

“______. You’re not paying attention, aren’t you?”

Waking up from your stupor, you blinked a few times and stuttered. “W-What?"

“You’re lost in your thoughts again.” The handsome warrior stepped away from you with a doting smile. “I think it's enough for today. You're probably tired.”

You wanted to say no, but his teasing smile stopped you. You had no choice but to go along with him and drop your arm that is holding the bow. Following him, you started to notice his wide shoulders, muscled biceps, and slim waist. The way the light of the tsawke makes his skin glisten, showcasing his rich and dark colors.

You thought you were discreet in your staring until he paused, making you bump into his back. Wincing, you hissed. “Hey, why did you stop? Your back is hard as rock…”

“Maybe if you weren't gawking at me, you wouldn't bump into me.”

“I wasn't gawking!” Feeling flustered when you got caught, your face heated. You looked at the trees to avoid his eyes. With your heart racing, you added. “How would you even know I'm looking at you, maybe I was looking at the scenery!”

The handsome warrior turned around, looking at you from above with his teasing smile. Both of you know the truth, but there's no way you’d accept defeat so easily.

Crossing his arms, he leaned on the nearby tree and said. “I’m the scenery.”

Your eyes bulged in shock. Everyday, your perception of the younger man just keeps getting refreshed as the day you spend with him increases. “Narcissist! So what if I’m looking at you?”

He looked at you, amusement clear in his eyes. You watch him straighten his body and begin walking back to your marui. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, y’know. I’ve heard you comment about my looks so many times already.”

What the hell is he talking about? With frantic steps, you caught up with him and demanded an answer. “Are you delirious? When did I even comment on your looks? Are you sure you are not imagining things with your narcissism?”

Picking up a fruit in the basket, he tossed it to you with quick hands. You have no choice but to catch the fruit with confused eyes. He looked you straight into the eyes and said. “You look good, mighty warrior. Are you perhaps mated? If not, how about me?”

With a powerful toss, you threw the fruit in his face. “Shut up, skxawng!!!”

“Stop. Stop. STOP! You’re doing it wrong!” With a huff, you took the spear from the warrior’s hand. He merely shrugged and motioned for you to show how exactly he is wrong.

Riding your ilu, you dived into the water and skillfully speared several fish and swam back into the surface in just a few seconds. On the spear was a large fish enough to feed the two of you for one whole day. It was on the verge of death as it flailed around. With your prayers to Eywa and quick hands, you ended the life of the poor fish.

The young warrior was staring at you with a smile, not at all ashamed of his lack of skill in spear hunting. You shook your head. “You’re definitely not an oceanic na’vi.”

“You speak as if the color of our skin does not prove enough that I'm not an aquatic na’vi,” He took the fish from you with a chuckle, not caring if his hands get blooded as long as yours does not.

“Well, I cannot guess the great mother’s thoughts when she created the na’vi. Who knows if there's oceanic people with skin colors similar to yours?”

The warrior paused. He waited for you to walk side by side with him before he responded. “Each na’vi from different habitats will develop physical attributes suited for their environment. Your skin allows your better integration with the water.”

You hummed. That, you knew. Although you never really have seen much of others na’vi. He was your first encounter with the na’vi with darker and bluer skin color.

“That makes it easier for you to find your clan, doesn't it? I mean we just have to think what place suits your skin color best.”

Both of you laughed as you reached your marui. He began preparing the fish while you sat inside the marui, watching his back. You knew he knew you're looking at him, but he clearly didn't mind. He seems to even enjoy the fact that you cannot deny his physical appeal.

“Have you ever wondered what got you almost killed?” You found yourself asking. You winced, regretting it already as you do not want to sound insensitive. He cannot even remember his name, what more about what happened to him?

“Whoever did it wanted me dead. They targeted my chest, which is where I am most vulnerable aside from my head. They even made sure I didn't get help by letting me sink in the ocean. They're ruthless and are clearly after my life, a blood feud.”

You shivered at the thought. A blood feud. You couldn't help but think. What if these killers are still searching for him? Who are they? Are they na’vi? “What about that small metal piece? Do other na’vi use metal despite it being against the Great Mother’s rules?”

The darker na’vi paused, trying to remember or even formulate ideas. He then walked towards you and sat beside you, face solemn as he took the odd metal piece from the satchel you have woven for him. “I cannot remember what it was, but it feels familiar to me. I must've encountered it before, and knew its effects.”

Both of you had turned silent, each occupied by your own complicated thoughts. His identity and what happened to him is now even a bigger mystery with the origins of this piece of metal at play.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, you leaned on his shoulders and closed your eyes. “Don’t worry too much, young warrior. At least on this island, you’re safe.”

“I know, syulang.”

Standing up straight, you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he just call you syulang?

Chuckling at your reaction, he tilted his head. “What? Can’t call you that?”

“No–yes, i-ah- Pxasìk! I mean, why? Why call me that?”

Suddenly he’s leaning into you, his warm amber gaze holding yours as a smile brightened his already handsome face, watching you as you stumbled on your words.

When his tempting lips hovered over your ears, scorching breath ghosting over your skin, he whispered. “You remind me of a flower. The one under the tsawke, all alone in a wide grassland, standing tall and mighty against the breeze.”

As days became a blur, you realized how your life had completely changed with the young warrior’s presence in your life. The once comforting chill of the night as you sleep alone has become rather uncomfortable in the absence of his warmth next to you. The once promising future of solitude and peace has become bleak; something to dread about as you hear his hearty laughter, his teasing voice, his steady breaths in the dead of eclipse.

You cannot pretend that something didn't change. You cannot act as if you actually didn't enjoy the freshness he had brought into your life. He changed your life forever, and for the better. He showed you a lot of things you have never seen before, and for a moment you thought this could go on forever.

You cannot fool yourself that it’ll stay forever that way.

He will regain his memories. Once he does, he’ll leave you and you’d be alone again. You knew how it would end, like a chasm that will devour you whole; a quagmire that is slowly pulling you in.

“It’s unlike you to be so quiet. What's going on?” he plopped next to you as you gazed at the gentle waves of the ocean. You shook your head as you chuckled.

“Can’t I appreciate the ocean in silence?”

“Of course you can, but I want to hear your voice. It's boring if you're not chattering nonstop.”

You snickered, trying to hide the pang of pain you felt inside. You know he's looking at you. He’s studying you, hoping to understand what's bothering you. But how can you say it's him that's bothering you? That it's him that's making you this miserable?

“I’m okay. I’m just thinking about life y’know? Eywa’s plans for me. ”

He hummed, turning towards the ocean. He knew you weren't telling the truth, but he doesn't know if he had the heart to ask for the truth anyway. So he just hummed, indulging in your presence.

“I also wonder what’s my future. But I don't even remember who I am, so what's the use?”

You turned to him, tracing his features with your gaze. He met your gaze, searching, hoping, expecting something. You didn't know what it was, so you offered what you thought would be the best answer. “You’re an excellent na’vi. Eywa’s plans for you will be grand, trust in her to guide you into the right path.”

“But will you be there, syulang?”

“I don't know. Will I?”

“I sure hope so. I cannot imagine a life without you constantly in my ear.”

“You skxawng, did you just call me loudmouth?”

“I don’t know. Did I?”

With a laugh, you smacked his shoulder. When you're about to pull your hand back, he reached for it and held it tightly. You watched him as he played with your fingers. You can feel the heat radiating from his palm, so warm and strangely comforting. You didn't say anything. He didn't either.

So you indulged. Indulged in the fantasy that this is a promise of forever. That he wanted you to be in his life, in his future. That there's more for the two of you, and not just a fleeting encounter that he will remember fondly as he talks about his past.

You remained like that for a long time, holding each other’s hand as you watched the ocean as the sky turned dark.

It was deep into the eclipse when you realized that the space next to you was empty. The first thing that came to mind was that he had regained his memories and left while you slept. As fear began to seize your heart, you noticed his makeshift bow and arrow beside the bed. Your once racing heart settled down, but as it did, another question popped into your mind.

Wait. Why am I so afraid that he had left?

“Did I wake you, syulang?”

You had no time to dwell in your thoughts when the warrior appeared in the entrance of your marui, holding your spear. It seems that he came from the outside, evident from the cold scent of water and foliage.

“Where have you been?” You asked groggily, trying to sit up from the bed, but the handsome warrior gently pushed you back by your shoulders.

“No, don't sit up, continue sleeping okay? I just went outside to check since I heard some animal noises.” He placated you.

Yawning with closed eyes, you said absent-mindedly. “Don’t do it next time, it's dangerous.”

“I know, syulang. Go back to sleep."

“M’kay…”

Unbeknownst to you, the warrior remained seated beside you, staring at your face as he traced your features with his eyes. He didn't know when it started, but his heart that seems so anxious to leave now has its enthusiasm waned.

You began occupying his mind, your silly little expressions and when you bicker with him over little things. Slowly, regaining his memories was no longer his first priority. You became his first priority.

He didn't know what it meant. He didn't know a lot of things. Heck, he didn't even know who he was. He should've been anxious, he should've been more enthusiastic to search for his origin, but your companionship made him forget that he’s a lost man. The thought of leaving can easily be erased by a silly little smile from you.

Syulang. Oh, syulang.

In fact, he wasn't simply just checking out any predators outside. He went inside because he remembered something. A whistle or cry for something. A muscle memory. He had tried to use it multiple times, hoping that someone that could lead to his origin would pop out. He had been doing it recently, every night, hoping for some result.

He succeeded tonight. After a few calls, a large winged creature descended upon the trees. He recognized it immediately. A mountain banshee. His ikran.

The ikran was green in color, with yellow and brown stripes in its body and wings. Petting the winged creature's chin, the young warrior sighed. “Oh Eywa, you’re magnificent. I expected nothing less. Are you my ikran? Am I part of the Tayrangi clan of the Eastern Sea?”

The creature nuzzled into his touch, eyes narrowing at him as if to communicate with his rider.

The two watched each other in silence. Despite his desire to do so, the young warrior refused to fly. He merely patted his ikran’s back, searching for some object that could help him remember. As he continued searching around, his eyes focused on the small string of beads on his ikran’s saddle.

This…?

The young warrior paused as his eyes narrowed, a sense of foreboding rose from his chest before a splitting headache assaulted his senses. He groaned and held his head as his knees buckled due to pain.

His knees hit the ground with a loud thump, but the pain paled in comparison to the headache he’s feeling.

Think about her. Think about syulang. Don't push yourself, think about her, she’s still waiting for you back at the marui…

He didn't know how long he had kneeled on the ground before the pain gradually weakened until it became non-existent. When he regained his senses, his ikran had disappeared. Who knows where it flew.

Wiping his sweat and dirty knees, he looked at the dark sky and began walking back to your shared marui. He was excited to tell you about the progress he had made. That's he’s almost there in figuring out his identity.

But he cannot shake off this voice telling him to not say anything, telling him that if he broke the stability between the two of you, everything would change. And he’s not yet ready for change.

“Think about it, warrior. How else would you get hurt so badly if not for a woman?” You held your chin as you watched him ground several fruits and collect the sap with a pottery jar.

“You’re asking me if I snatched a promised woman and now her intended mate wants me dead?” He sounded like that's the most absurd idea in the world, clearly disgusted with the idea. “You seem to have drunk a lot of fruit sap, coming up with these ridiculous ideas.”

You giggled to yourself, still persisting on purpose to piss him off. “I mean think about it, warrior! Why else would you have a blood feud if not for a woman?”

He looked at you, unimpressed. Closing the jar full of fruit sap, he stood up to pick more fruits from the basket. “Syulang, a blood feud could be for other reasons, aside from snatching a promised woman. Perhaps it is because of clan disagreements.”

Humming, you picked up a small fruit and popped it into your mouth. Your face contorted due to the bitter aftertaste it left in your tongue. “You don't look disagreeable to me. I have a feeling that everyone in your clan adores you. But still it could be because of a w—”

“No. Because if it is, trust me syulang, I’d know.”

You stared at his serious face, you cannot see any falseness in his words. Only confidence in himself. He seems so sure. “How would you know?”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the net of your marui. “First, I don't go after promised women. I just knew I didn't and wouldn’t. The second reason why I knew it wasn't about me loving a promised woman was because if I already had my heart set on someone, then why would it beat for another?”

Your breath stuttered in your throat as the warrior took your hand into his, gazing at you deeply like you're the only one he sees. You couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't speak. You can only gaze back into him as he gently said to you.

“So syulang, stop worrying about some other woman okay? You're just making yourself unhappy. Here, have some fruit sap, it's good for your skin.”

You know you would be making a mistake by doing this, but you did anyway. You kissed him, pressing your lips against his in a chaste, almost reverent kiss. You know it's something you cannot turn back, but you didn't care. Not when he’s here with you, as warm as the tsawke shining down on you.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !! A/N: this is it! hoped you liked part 1! Any feedback from you guys would be very much appreciated, it keeps me going. 🥹💜

Stay tuned for part 2 (end), everyone! Have a nice day!

[narcissistshandler]

please give me the reader fucking miguel to the point of exhaustion, something brute idk (i'll probably die if you don't take requests for across the spiderverse-

𝙍𝘼𝙒

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. m!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. top!amab!reader, bottom!miguel, anal sex, cumming inside

✧ 𝖠/𝖭. I'm accepting requests, please don't die. first, please let me know if i got the word 'raw' wrong, i spent 20 minutes researching the difference between raw and crude. second, why is it so hard to find editable images of miguel? i spent more time trying to edit than writing arhhh. third, in my country we say that 'with a glass of water and this man I'd pass the year' (I didn't go hungry/lived happily) and I think that describes it here perfectly.

You fuck him like an animal, raw and primal and damn good.

Your nails dig into his thighs, teeth leaving mark after mark on the exposed skin of his legs, shoulders and neck. You can't get enough of him and feel like wanting to devour him until there's nothing left. Wanting to open his stomach and put your hands inside, enter inside him and become one; take everything from him until there's nothing is left. Give him your all, until nothing is left.

Cock going in and out of him easily, each thrust so deep that you are sure he can feel you in his stomach, stretching him to the limit.

White liquid starts to come out inside Miguel, soiling your dick and falling to the mattress. Your head spins, dizzy, hot and insane; thumbs pressed against his hip bones, movements becoming stronger.

"My cum is coming out of you," you comment, impressed, appreciating the new blush that colors Miguel's brown skin. "You look so sexy like that, corazón, with your legs open for me, your hole used and leaking and using my marks on your skin. Beautiful."

Miguel's tight channel clenches at your words, cock squirming over his toned stomach even when nothing spills. You drink in the vision as if it were offered to you in a holy chalice, wishing you could drown in the pure sight of him and nothing more.

[theangrycomet-art]

TFA: Ariel/Elita 1's Squadron, Team Orthia

I fell down the wiki rabbit hole last night and now I have these.

Everyone's heights are off/going to change in the future because I wasn't sure on everyone's alts when I was first drawing out the line up.

I mostly just wanted to get ideas down on paper.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

Transcript of my Handwriting Plus Other Lore:

Nothing here’s set in stone I just wrote down ideas/compiled thoughts as they came to me.

edit: Changed Lancer’s Profile Info to match new ideas I have

TFA: Sheild of Solus

Operation: Failsafe

Purpose: To sabotage any and all Decipticon efforts of gaining any headway in this war. First, start off with the infiltrators, next, hit them where it hurts.

After discovering a spy had infiltrated their ranks, Alpha Trion took it upon himself to assemble a team to sabotage any Decipticon efforts to gain a foothold on Cybertron, hoping that they would be able to counter any threats on Cybertron.

Ariel/Elita-1

Commander and the Leader

High-ranking member of the Elite Guard

Alpha Trion’s inside eyes

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Heavy Duty Truck -> Monster Truck

Special Upgrade: Classified

Good-Morningstar Mace: Morning star with detachable head

Laser Kusarigama: This weighted chain serves Elita well when she needs to tie up the enemy (or retrieve your teammate as her gravity fluctuates again)

Tidbit: One of the few of the Elite Guard to not have gone to the Academy, Elita rose through the ranks through her skill and ingenuity, despite other’s misgivings. A bit rough around the edges, she is always there for her fellow bots. When her former mentor requested her aid in his mission, she had no hesitation joining. (It helped that it got her away from her more tiresome coworkers)  

Chromia

Second in Command

Recon Specialist, Infiltrator

Former Intelligence Officer; she retired when she was not allowed to investigate Highbrows abrupt disappearance and opened a private investigator business.

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Trike -> Trike (like Harley-Davidson Tri Glide Ultra)

Special Upgrade: Lockpick: with enough time she can pick any lock and hack into any systems with the extensions in her servos. However, this can takes a lot of her processing power and leaves her vulnerable.

Laser Sabre: Good for clashing blades and slipping between the seams of an enemy’s armor

Tidbit: Despite her worrying over her teammates, Chromia has a habit of diving helm first into her work with little disregard for herself, whether that be forgetting to refuel and recharge or tempting fate with more self-sacrificial tendencies. She’s been working on it, but bad habits die hard…

Novastar

Search and Rescue, Transportation and Retrieval

Served in the tail-end of the Great War

Worked previously in Search and Rescue with her partners Inferno and Red Alert

Through this line of work, she developed extensive connections.

AltMode: Cybertronian Truck -> Narrowbed Truck

Special Upgrade: Furnace: Nova is able to generate massive bursts of flame, and she has refined the practice into an art. The flames on her head are no only an aesthetic choice, but an outlet for the excess heat she generates. These are easily extinguished; a fact Inferno took great joy in abusing the damn firetruck bot.

Blowtorch: During her time in field during the Great War, Nova lost her left servo to a Decpticon when retrieving soldiers from behind enemy lines. She had it replaced with a blowtorch prothesis that allows her to pinpoint flames to temperatures that can cut through even the toughest of materials- temperatures that otherwise would melt her frames

Tidbit: Novastar has been trying to locate Inferno, who has recently gone MIA after responding to an off-planet distress beacon with a new recruit with little to no luck. She is hoping the new job title will grant her greater resources to expand her search.

Greenlight

Engineer

“The Miracle Worker”

A student of WheelJack’s

Greenlight’s inventions can be brilliantly or devastating (or if she’s lucky) both. She tends to get attached to her devices, however, and gets rather despondent when they are broken or do not work as intended.

Aloof, she doesn’t see the need to waste much time with small talk. It requires a bot with a lot of patience (and ability to pester) to get her to come out of her shell

Alt Mode: Cybertronian Offroader

Special Upgrade: Tasers: Though not a combat bot, Greenlight saw fit to mod herself out with some decent defense. The tasers stored in her arms can generate enough volts of electricity that can through bots thrice her size flat on their backs.

Boom Cannon: A weapon still in its testing phases, she has been building it up from stolen Decepticon specs in her free time.

Tidbit: If asked, Greenlight will say that she agreed to sign up to get out of community service for accidentally demoing a perfectly good lab with one of her inventions. While partly true, a larger part of why she joined was because she didn’t want Lancer doing this alone.

Lancer [Edited]

Researcher

Unofficial Medic

Student of Perceptor

Alt Mode: n/a, missing T-Cog

Special Upgrade: FlipScreen: her “skirt” doubles as computers, monitor and keyboard included. This grants her access to ALL of her files and more importantly allows her to run any necessary scans, analysis, or algorithms she needs when or wherever she needs. It is also a bold fashion statement

BackPack Variety Hour: She has a variety of “backpacks” each serving different purposes, though if you ask anyone but Lancer they all look identical. Despite their incredible weight, she carries them with ease.

Backup Generator: Via the generator on her back, she could keep a city fully powered without straining her spark. Most of this energy goes into the powering the extra processors she has stored in her “skirt”

Star Splitter: a powerful laser spear, though she more often then not uses it for pole vaulting than actual combat

Tidbit: Lancer has been a researcher for the Autobots for longer than many bots have been alive, mostly regarding projects Ultra Magnus would rather not go public. Despite the JetTwins being by far the most successful of these endeavors, Lancer quit shortly after. When Alpha Trion offered her a more savory research position with Twam Orthia she was quick to accept and get out from Ultra Magnus’ thumb.

Moonracer

Sharpshooter/Sniper

“Best in the Whole Galaxy!”

Graduated top of her classes at the Autobot Academy but has struggled to keep a longterm position due to her impulsive behavior, with her last job being messenger-bot for Security.

Alt Mode: Cybertron Compact Car -> Vector W8

Special Upgrade: Internal Gravity Manipulator: As labelled on the tin, she has the ability to shift her gravity, decreasing AND increasing. Typically, she uses this to “float” or “moon walk”. The change in gravity can be extended to objects she comes into direct contact, but maintaining it drains her very quickly.

Velicotron Build: Speedster Though not as fast as the infamous Blurr, Moonracer is incredibly quick both as a bot and her alt form. Combine this with her gravity-defying abilities leads to some devastating results.

Custom Ion Pistols: Dual pistols that can combine into her sniper rifle.

Tidbit: Moonracer is a good bot with a good head on her shoulders. She will always do what she thinks is right- but she tends to jump the gun on things which gets her into trouble. With inexperience comes naivety, but how is she supposed to learn anything if nobody gives her a chance to do anything?  

Individual Shots

[totallyhextra]

People? In MY computer?? It's more likely than you think!

The following is a fanvertisment and is not connected to the show. ****Yet.*** *Also yes, this is the fourth time I'm posting this because TUMBLR WONT LET ME EDIT SPELLING MISTAKES!

ANYWAY,

Once upon a time, back in 1987, Dire Straits put out this music video for “Money for Nothing”, which, as you know, was a song about wanting my MTV. 

The video was made by two guys (Gavin Blair and Ian Pearson) on a very moody computer. After the video went out, these two guys went to a pub:

Ian: “Hey, we should make a whole show like this!”

Gavin: “Dude, making three minutes almost killed us.”

And so it was decided!🎉

The two guys were joined by two other guys (Phil Mitchell and John Grace) and created the Hub, which then became Mainframe Entertainment. They got even more people, and then they all holed up in this hotel.

They were mad lads with a dream: a whole cgi animated show, and they made it happen a whole year before Toy Story!

Behold! ReBoot!

(Yes that fever dream was real)

Now before I get any of this:

Let me lay this down. If you can’t with the animation of the first season because it was CUTTING EDGE IN 1994, you can close your eyes and listen to it. ReBoot wasn’t just a CGI gimmick. The characters are fully developed, the voice actors are peerless, the plot is sharp, and there’s so many easter eggs that you’ll never find them all.

Never

(And yes the episode "Bad Bob" was the actual catalyst for Fury Road. Look it up)

ReBoot is about what life is like in a computer (in the 90s, because it was the 90s) called Mainframe (because of course it is). People are sprites, the guys that look like 1s and 0s are binomes (which represent 1s and 0s). Bad guys are viruses, and the good guy is a Guardian named Bob, who is a certified cinnamon roll.

In the first season the eps are light and self-contained, mainly because there was constant friction between the Mainframe studios and the Board of Standards and Practices.

They still got away with some pretty dark stuff, like Megabyte (virus) making Enzo (the kid) watch his dog get sliced open (dog got away, obviously) , Dot (sprite) have a hallucinatory breakdown, and the fridge horror of realizing the thousands of worm things (nulls) that plunged off a bridge to their death were actually people.

And Hex's (virus

best girl) scary face single-handedly traumatized an entire generation. 🙂

But busting through a window was a no go, because WhAt If tHe cHiLdReN dID iT tOo?

Anyway, halfway through the second season, ABC cut them loose, so they were like, fuck it, we’re going to start going hard. The story shifted from episodic to arcs and things start to get serious.

Third season the show moved to YTV in Canada, which gave no fucks about shielding the innocent children.

So it got DARK

How dark?

The UK refused to show the entire season, so the audience there had to wait until pirated copies made it across the pond to see how it ended.

Also by 1997, the animation was gorgeous. (Best example of third season animation I could think of that didn't have spoilers)

The show was green-lit for a fourth season on Cartoon Network, but halfway through production Warner Bros took over and the same fucking thing happened.

Because Mainframe was halfway done, they decided not to scrap all of it, but knowing they wouldn't be able to finish it correctly, Mainframe stripped anything that would hint at Season Four's true ending, then left what remained on a cliff-hanger of angst.

FOR 22 YEARS

(It's also why the last four eps of season four seem to make no sense)

And so it was.

Other crap happened, the soul left Mainframe, and its animated corpse spat out “The Guardian Code” in 2018. 

But never say die! The year is (almost) 2024, 30 years later. ReBoot shall rise from the dead, because here come the documentary!!

Do you dare see what you’ve been missing?

What the (UK) government doesn’t want you to know?? 

Then come on down to ReBoot!

We got:

Magnificent bastards with sexy voices!

(Tony Jay at his best)

Kickass women who could probably crush your head with their thighs and you’d enjoy it!

Innuendos in a kid's show!

��� This adorable cinnamon roll!! 💗

Insane third season glow-ups!

YOUR NEW GOD

These guys!

(Gay roller-skating binome is my boi. I named him Jerry)

Nonstop cultural refs (You'll never find them all. Never.)

(There are literally videos dedicated to trying)

So many computer puns!

Body Horror!

Existential Crisis!

HAVE I MENTIONED YOUR NEW GOD?

This is it, folks! The real thing, the gem hidden in the moose-filled forests of Canadia!🌲🌲🌲

Take a trip inside a mid-90’s computer!

See the World Wide Web! (omg):

Witness the original purple Gamecubes that randomly fall from the sky when the owner of the computer (OUR GOOD LORD THE USER) wants to play a game. If it lands on people and they lose, they dissolve into mindless energy leeches, fated to tormented by their former bretheren for all of eternity.

Just like in real life! 🙃

So watch the eps! They on YouTube!

I think they're on Pluto, Hulu, Sling, and Tubi too! Also DVDs for people who have the patience to wait for them!

WATCH! BELIEVE! SUFFER THE SOUL-CRUSHING RAGE OF THE SEASON 4 CLIFF-HANGER!* (come on, its fun!)*

HYPE THE DOC!

The more people hype, the better the chances of actually getting it finished.

NOW SHARE THIS WITH EVERYONE!

And now I will leave you with this screenshot from the ep "Painted Windows", where dicks can clearly be seen drawn upon the wall behind the fleeing anthropomorphized television.

(PS: If you heard the clown pic at the top of the page in your head, you're welcome)

IMPORTANT UPDATE

This message is now approved by Gavin Blair! He's an awesome guy. Show him some love on TWITTER (fuck you musk) at @TheRealMrSweary Also, if you want to share this with non-tumblr friends, here is my attempt at a webpage version:

theseventhstarprojects.com/REBOOT.html

[spider-stark]

A BOY'S FIRST PEST

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest

Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN

Word Count - 2.0k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat. 

He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook). 

And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself). 

Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home. 

But it did, of course, have one enduring problem. 

The pests.

Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’). 

Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter. 

In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin. 

When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows. 

Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window. 

Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?” 

With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.” 

“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke. 

Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not. 

You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm. 

If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night. 

And most nights, that’s exactly what you do. 

“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask. 

“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Not at all.” 

Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” 

Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy. 

Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude. 

This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make. 

Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing. 

Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side. 

Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn. 

The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails. 

His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.” 

Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink. 

Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers. 

As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder. 

Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse. 

“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill. 

One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down. 

He lands somewhere in the middle. 

“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment. 

“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?” 

“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?” 

You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.” 

Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension. 

“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.” 

Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…” 

There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.” 

“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?” 

The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk. 

Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.” 

Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger. 

Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes. 

And yet— 

“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.” 

That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt. 

For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest. 

In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom. 

Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant. 

I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying. 

You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin. 

When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist. 

Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.

But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it. 

“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?” 

Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him. 

His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult. 

“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse. 

“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.” 

“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it. 

Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles. 

“Maybe.”

a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU

[etoilesbienne]

out of curiosity, what are the common qEtoiles mischaracterizations, and the accurate characterizations you wished people used more? Sincerely, an English speaking fan who is re-learning French!

honestly i kind of consider it a mischaracterization when people like... make etoiles into this team leader who always knows what to do and move things forward. or like that he has a bad attitude to like... match his fighting skills. or like the dark knight brooding warrior. he says he is these things. these are lies. he lies about himself constantly. i wouldnt trust a good 2/3 of the things he says about himself to be true. you read him clearer through his actions than his statements.

in my opinion etoiles is more like. sturdy second in command. he's not there to lead, he's there to fill in the holes where they pop up. he's there as cover. he's quick witted in shortchange scenarios, but that is so not the same thing as a genuine strategist. in another expression, if someone is a leader, the leader is a doctor, etoiles's role is more like... the EMS team in an ambulance. He's not there to fix your problem, he's there to keep your problem covered until you can get someone else to fully fix it. but that doesn't mean his role is any less important when he's needed.

Etoiles is also, like, so very much a team player if he respects and trusts a person. And it is so easy to have his respect and trust. His trust starts at 100% for everyone. he's also so very very very good at reading people (gesture to the bbh clip where bbh moves his mouse slightly downward and etoiles calls him out on being depressed). He read Mousey as enjoying dungeons and pvp way more and wanting to hang out with her. He's also one of the only people who like continuously runs in the girlies group and makes all of them pvp with him and they all love it so he keeps coming back to pvp with them. Thats how he started his whole thing with Tina and pvping with her constantly. Reading other people also, he loves finding other pvpers so he attacks roier constantly now bc he knows roier can pvp.

What else OH Etoiles loves whining (and this is because Rayou loves whining) that dude will just complain constantly. You haven't seen an etoiles stream if youve never seen him whine. Can't say I'm not kind of endeared by it. With this too he loves over explaining things (RIP armor powerpoint wish you couldve been given...) because he wants to help everyone....

OH and he's very over exaggerated too in replying to people in a complaining way and a self deprecating way and also likes to try to push the envelope with people and he does all of that to try and get a laugh out of others. like he's well aware people find him going "Oh so you don't give a shit about me and want me to die ? you want etoiles to die ?" fucking hilarious and also loves complaining in the first place thats why he does that. if your etoiles isn't complaining and whining then it isn't etoiles. the self deprecating thing is... its interesting bc he does have full faith in his abilities but will never say it out loud unless its trying to reassure someone who is worried. pushing the envelope is so specific he won't do it too much and its like........... from what ive seen (correct me if im wrong) heavily directed at non francophones where if they laugh at something wack he's done he'll try to do it again to make them laugh more. shoutout to the time he made bbh laugh so much when he cursed he didn't get languaged by bbh so he kept cursing to try to make bbh do it again. the dudes a total people pleaser.

smaller thing ive talked about extensively already (u can prob find it in my q!etoiles tag if i remember i'll edit a link to the posts in here soon lol) etoiles hates losing he looooooves winning he's very intense about it lol. its cute!

on a final note even if you don't become deeply unwell about etoiles like i am i think this highlight clip video has like everything he's like condensed into like 11 minutes. You should watch it. It's a good starting point.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

summary: When Ellie is taken by David, Joel breaks open the part of him locked away since his hunter days. As the guilt eats him alive, you try to help him subdue the black dogs of mental warfare.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: Very 18+. It’s giving morally-grey Joel. Depiction of gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of David that is a warning in itself. Very vague insinuation of SA as shown in the game. Discontent for Christianity (don’t like, don’t read my dude). Angst, guilt. Hurt-comfort. P in v sex, unprotected sex.

authors note: This got so dark it actually caught me off guard! I am so incredibly proud of this piece. I started it 5 whole weeks ago, and spent up until the night of posting (March 5th) editing and retouching. I hope it does Winter, my favourite part of the game, proud.

tease: “I jus’ need to be close to you.”

Continuous dripping sounds from the radiator, drip, drip, drip. Globs of blood seep down the grooves of the heater, falling when the droplets reach the edge and settling in a pool of coagulated gore. A headless body leans left, slumping against the metal the handcuffs chain it to. What’s left of its skull plasters the walls, the ceiling, and the steel pipe discarded in its lap.

Another lifeless body lays strewn sideways, the chair it’s tied to thrown haphazardly across the floor. Its neck is angled awkwardly; its eyes rolled back so only the whites show.

When you manage to tear your eyes away from the carnage, you can still hear the panicked shouts of the captives before Joel slaughtered them, rattling inside the cavern of your skull. Joel’s callous answer rings in your ears.

“Fuck you, man. He told you what you wanted. I ain't telling you shit!”

“That’s alright. I believe him.”

Snowflakes stick to the window of the home Joel had appropriated as a slaughterhouse, the wooden planks weathered and falling apart after years of neglect. The cold creeps in through the holes in the ceiling and the gaps in the wood, but you find yourself doubting the chill responsible for the goosebumps littering your arms.

Inhaling slowly, you will yourself to speak, but the words die in your throat before they even form on your lips, melting away on your tongue. Your pleas for reason would fall on deaf ears, and you know it—Joel’s far beyond reasoning with.

He’s pacing up and down the room, the floorboards creaking under the weight of his boots as he studies the map gripped between his imbrued knuckles. It’s unlike him, you note, to be so rattled. In the years you’ve known Joel, his steadfast resolution had been comforting, a certain. Not now. The men he’d butchered had mentioned details you could only describe as buzzwords that had Joel’s survivor alarm bells ringing.

David’s newest pet. The Town. Cannibals.

Heaving breaths he expels from his lungs vaporise in the air, still catching his breath from pummelling radiator-man’s brains out. If you couldn’t hear the wheezing in his chest from his laboured respiration, you could damn well see it.

Stepping forward, you wince when the floorboard beneath you creaks. “Joel—“

“They got Ellie, Darlin’,” your partner leaps into an eerily calm rundown of the dire situation despite you having been in the room for the entire interrogation. “They got Ellie, an’ they’re gonna kill her.”

Nodding slowly, you reach across the small distance between you to hold onto Joel’s bicep. Blood splatters the fabric of his brown winter coat, and you can feel his body heat radiating beneath the layers of cloth as his body fights infection. The gaping wounds in his back and stomach from the protruding rebar he was impaled on, thanks to a scuffle with a looter at the university, have stopped weeping puss. However, Joel was still largely incapacitated by the pain — despite the feral display of resilience against these two bandits.

“I know—” you try to ease him, but Joel’s buzzing with adrenaline.

“I gotta go get her; you can’t stop me doin’ this, Darlin’ I have’ta-“

“I know,” you speak firmly, and Joel stops dead in his tracks, clearly not having expected you to green-light his suicide mission, “I know I can’t stop you, which is why I insist upon going with you.”

You expect Joel to make a scene, to lose his temper and tell you that you weren't going anywhere, that it was far too dangerous and losing either of you would crush him. You know about Tess; Ellie told you everything when you joined them in Pittsburgh. She detailed Joel's heartache, despite his desperate attempts to appear indifferent. It's times like these that you can't blame him for being overprotective, knowing he had lost so much.

However, your expectations are not met. Joel looks at you, the whites of his eyes tinted red, and the skin beneath shadowed dark with exhaustion. He nods slowly, evidently realising he cannot compete with an army of cannibal bandits single-handedly with the state he’s in. He surrenders.

Wordlessly, Joel grabs your backpack and begins to sift through the items within. Apparently, he decides you don't have enough ammo, sacrificing his El Diablo pistol and offering it to you.

You accept it without fuss, knowing damn well that leaving with him is out of his comfort zone. Making a scene would make him change his mind.

It doesn't take long for Joel to spread out your limited supplies. Within five minutes, he's lifting his heavy backpack onto his shoulders with an agonised groan. You move out silently, Joel holding the door open for you as you step out into the blizzard.

You hear the frozen grass and layers of snow crunch beneath the rubber soles of Joel’s boots. You set your whole life to the pace of each of his steps, a monotonous metronome. Sometimes, on hot days in the summer, you can smell the rubber melting on the tarmac if you stand still for too long.

It’s bizarre, especially as he guides you into a death trap with an unknown sum of threats, but you find yourself thinking you’d be happy for him to lead you anywhere.

-✩-

Snowflakes cling to your eyelashes, eyes weeping from the cold and freezing the coarse hairs together. It's so cold that you’re convinced that the tears that develop as a result of the stinging cold freeze before they can drip down your cheeks.

Even without the natural eyelash glue, it's hard to see Joel ahead of you in the chaos of the bandit’s town. The blizzard has intensified, casting a light grey fuzzy haze over what you can see— or rather, what you can't. You're not even sure that the shadowy figure in front of you is Joel, but you're too afraid to ask in case a stranger turns around and shoots you in the stomach.

When you and Joel arrived, it was pandemonium already, armed bandits practically running into you as they attempted to reach their battle stations. The whistling of the wind muffles gunshots, and the bell from the church tower rings deafeningly loud across the snow plains in warning. What exactly had happened, you are unsure, but what you do know is that the cracking of the bronze bell will draw in runners from miles away.

You had to find Ellie. Quickly.

"You all right?" Joel calls out above the din, his Texan accent a welcome relief. It takes you a second to find your voice, the cold having momentarily stolen it.

"Yeah!" You shout back, trembling fingers grasping tightly to your gun.

There is a roaring sound on the wind, rising in volume as you continue to trudge blindly through the snow. The gunshots are more frequent now, yet still too far away to be a threat to you. You wonder if Ellie is raising hell or if the infected have already arrived. Neither scenario was good.

An orange glow peers through the blanket of falling snow that distorts your vision. You'd noticed the flaming barrels as you wandered through the town, but this was different. It was huge. The closer you got to it, the clearer the sound met your ears. It was crackling, wood-burning and billowing acrid black smoke.

Joel whistles, the pitchy sound catching your attention over the deafening thunder of the fire. You can't see his expression, but you can vaguely make out his silhouette pointing toward the building swallowed by flames. You were going in.

One step forward and the blaze is singeing your freezing skin, burning the peach fuzz on your face. You swear you can smell your eyebrows smoking, the flames so strong that you're almost scared to step into the building.

Despite your concerns for the integrity of the structure, Joel is quick to pursue the only lead he has to Ellie. He feels blindly all along the entrance, hissing as his palms come into contact with red-hot glass panes. It's a wooden door inset by small rectangular windows. The frame is deep brown and littered with orange, glowing embers embedded within the grain. You're scared, and open your mouth to dissuade Joel from doing anything rash. He doesn't give you the opportunity.

His shoulder slams into the weakened, charred door without hesitation, the windows falling from their frames and shattering on the wooden floor. The blazing heat inside the building wafts over you, causing sweat to bead at your brow.

Desperate, Joel pushes through and stumbles into the building, which you now discover is a diner. The smoke burns your lungs, and your eyes sting so much that you're almost blinded by the tears prickling your waterline. The dark grey clouds are so thick that you're suffocating, unable to take in any oxygen. Had it not been for the noises piercing through the terrifying roar of the fire, you would have aborted the entrance in fear of asphyxiation.

High-pitched grunts of exertion and the sound of metal slamming into wood catch Joel's attention. He looks up, alarmed by the noise and yet scrambles towards it despite the danger.

"Ellie!" Joel shouts out, running on adrenaline as he rushes forward. You let out a sob of relief, knowing that Joel has eyes on her, but the consolation doesn't last long.

When you catch sight of her, you find Ellie in a blind rage. Her bloodied hands hold onto a machete handle with a white-knuckled grip, raising the weapon above her head and bringing it down into the mess of the fractured skull and smashed brains of the body below her. Blood sprays across her face with the sheer force with which she plunges the blade into the meaty mess, tears of fury leaving tracks in the crimson on her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop," Joel wraps his forearms around Ellie’s chest, dragging her away from the mutilated body to a chorus of devastatingly broken ‘no's’. Ellie screams, fighting Joel’s grip and clawing at his arms in an attempt to free herself.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She sobs as Joel hushes her, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her to his chest in a desperate attempt to prove to Ellie that she is safe. He sets her in front of him, forcing the broken young girl to look at him and recognise him.

"It's me," he speaks firmly, trying to access the rational part of her brain as he holds her still, his palms settling on her bloodied cheeks and inevitably smearing the ruddy liquid across her skin. "Look, look. It’s me."

Her tearful gaze settles on Joel, still in a panic as she searches his face. It takes her a moment, but relief swallows her expression and she practically falls into Joel's embrace.

“Oh,” she sobs out, eyes falling to the blood-streaked floor as the shock kicks in, “He tried to-“

“Oh, Baby Girl…” He murmurs brokenly, clinging to her as though he feared the world would snatch her from him again if he didn’t hold her in a vice-like grip. “It’s okay. It’s okay….”

“Joel…” Ellie sobs, burying her face into his chest and soaking his already bloodied clothes with yet more gore and tears. Joel presses his head to hers, repeatedly murmuring that it was okay, that he had her.

As Joel speaks to Ellie, you allow them this delicate moment of solitude. Of course, you were part of this family, but the bond Ellie and Joel shared far outweighed anything you could offer. A found father-daughter relationship that filled the holes in each other's hearts. It wasn’t your place to intrude.

Casting your teary eyes to the ceiling, you catch sight of a rudimentary hanging sign made from a white mattress topper. Scrawled upon it in mostly black paint, the lettering bulky, and only one word is written in scarlet.

“WHEN WE ARE IN NEED, HE SHALL PROVIDE!”

Bile rises in your throat as you take in the quote reminiscent of bible scripture. It turns your stomach, knowing what this man would have done, what the town no doubt did do to others, all while justifying it with thinly veiled Jesus worship.

It was an odd realisation, one that left you feeling quite numb as Joel helped Ellie from her knees. The comprehension that for the past 20 years, humanity had been coming together to fight the Cordyceps virus in the hope of removing the scourge and returning to normal life. Instead, the happenings in the diner, in this town, proved that the Cordyceps virus had little impact on the real plight.

That humans, people, are the true sickness.

-✩-

You are fearful at first that Ellie wouldn't be able to sleep after the trauma of her ordeal. She had, at first, been delicate on the journey back to the cabin that Joel had been recuperating in since his accident. Exhibiting signs of shellshock, she refused to elaborate on anything she had seen or heard during her captivity, and both you and Joel decided it best to leave her to unpick her thoughts in her own time.

The brass bells in the cannibal town had drawn the attention of a ginormous pack of runners, and you were scared that Ellie would be unable to find it in her to fight for her life.

However, as Ellie often did, she proved you wrong. Perhaps that is why she retreated to a dream world the moment her head touched the pillow. The sound of her steady breathing is the only noise permeating the silence that had settled in the cabin basement.

Joel retreats into the shadows when Ellie finds sleep. Leaning his back against the rough brick wall, he groans in agony as he sinks into a half-comfortable position. You watch him settle, eyebrows pinching together as you witness him fall back into the blackest corners of his mind.

You hesitate. You've only ever seen Joel like this once, distraught by the deaths of Henry and Sam after barely reaching freedom beyond the Pittsburgh Bridge. He had withdrawn into himself for weeks, the guilt eating him alive despite not belonging to any of you.

The black dog of mental warfare was a friend you knew Joel had come to know well. Before Sam and Henry, there was Tess, his hunter days, and of course, Sarah. Each time, the darkness would require him to carry a heavy burden of culpability despite his lack of fault.

"I'm glad," Joel's gruff voice cuts through the silence. He sounds broken, battling an insidious infection that you can't see. Similar to the Cordyceps virus, it encroaches on his mind, turning it against him. “I'm glad she killed him."

Again, you withhold your innermost thoughts as Joel battles to admit his feelings. He looks up at you, resting against the opposite wall. His expression is cold, but his eyes reflect a tragic pain within him.

“I’m relieved she killed him. Because I dunno what I would’a done.”

The black dog has returned, settled at Joel’s feet, and with it the guilt lands in his lap.

"Joel," you whisper, rising to your feet and approaching your crestfallen partner with delicate steps, "It’s not your fault."

Shaking his head Joel refuses to acknowledge your exoneration, beginning to launch into a tirade of self-hatred. "No. No, if I'd‘ve-"

You interrupt him, a firmness quite unlike you seeping into each syllable. "It's not your fault."

This time it appears to strike home, Joel slowly nodding his head in acceptance as you sink to the floor with him, resting your head on his shoulder as you settle beside him for warmth. The following silence isn't as emotionally charged. Joel appears to find comfort in your embrace. The black dog slinks out of the room through the crack in the open door.

You gently press kisses to the soft expanse of skin peeking from underneath Joel’s collar. It's a comfort, one that you regularly award Joel before sleep. He tilts his head in the opposite direction, offering you further access to the skin layering his jugular.

Without question, you continue to pepper his skin with endearment. He wasn't one to regularly ask for it, so you took this as a sign that Joel required some tenderness right now.

"’m sorry," he mumbles, embarrassed by his needy behaviour, “'m just-“

"You don't have to explain anything," you whisper, the curve of your lips dragging against his pulse point as you speak to him. He hums deep and low, eyes slipping shut as you continue your ministrations.

Achingly slowly, you drag lips across his jugular, pressing kisses to spots on his neck that you know are reactive. The soft valley behind his ear, the curve of his jaw, the junction between his neck and his shoulder. They all receive your affection, and you begin to hear Joel's breathing labour ever so slightly.

Joel’s infectious fever bleeds into something akin to fervour, his ribcage rising and falling with heavier, unsteadier breaths. His eyelids flutter closed, the searing, sour pain blending with the pleasure that sparks in him when your lips brush over his pulse point.

“Darlin’-“ He whispers, and it’s utterly broken. Pitchy and cracking in his throat when your fingertips work at his shirt buttons to expose more of his clavicle. His hands are settling on your hips as you swing your thigh over his lap slowly, thumb pads sweeping over your hip bones in delicate patterns.

“What is it you need from me, Joel?” You murmur softly, nose nudging at the bottom of his throat, at the v where his collar bones meet.

“F-Fuck,” he chokes, eyes cast skyward as he attempts to piece the broken pieces of his mind back together and find an answer. “I jus’ need to be close to you.”

He thought he’d lost Ellie. Thought he’d find her strung up with pieces of her flesh scattered about an unsanitary butcher's room. No doubt his mind was spinning with all the possibilities. What if you’d been shot trying to get her back?

Joel needed to be confident you were alive. Needed to feel your pulse thrumming against his palm.

“I can do that,” you promise him gently. You never pledged anything to Joel; nothing was certain. However, right now, you could offer your word. Could swear to ease his trepidation.

“I’m here.” Your words are spoken with conviction, his head nodding slightly as you take his wrist in your hand. “You can feel it. Come here.”

Delicately, you lay his bloodied, trembling hand across your chest. He lets out a quivering breath through his nose when he feels the thump of your heart against the lifeline of his palm.

Your free hand settles on the brass button holding his jeans together, popping it open and exposing the trail of dark, greying hairs that trail down his naval. His eyes flicker to your own, chapped lips parting slightly as you pinch the zipper and drag it down with a quiet ‘zzzp’.

The thud against his palm picks up the momentum as you feel him harden beneath the denim of your jeans, and you catch his lips pull up. A short, single scoff of disbelief- relief- as you gently work the jeans down and over his hips.

“Does this old man really do it for you that much?” He whispers, his fingerprints teasing the stitches of your collar. Your flannel is worn, threadbare and velvet soft, and your skin is burning hot beneath. “Even greyin’ and broken like I am?”

“Joel,” you whisper, pressing a delicate, lengthy kiss to his forehead, between his eyebrows. Fumbling with your cargo pants, you have them over your ass in no time, dragging your panties along with them. “You are the only man alive that makes me feel this way.” Your lips brush against the creases on his brow; frown lines etched deep into his skin after years of misery.

“Mhm,” his rich, oak eyes drag down your form as he watches you undress and expose your soaked cunt, thighs glistening wet in the low lighting. “That ain’t hard when most of the population died out.”

“Joel,” you repeat with a less-tempered tone, nose nudging at his hairline as you wrap your fingers around his length. He grunts quietly, careful to smother any loud noises to avoid drawing Ellie’s attention. “There wasn’t anyone before outbreak day, either.”

“Not even that actor-… What was his name, George Cloo-oh fuck,” his stupid joke dies on the tip of his tongue when you slowly sink down onto the head of his cock, walls fluttering around the stretch of him. His voice is hoarse, whisper breaking into silence as he slowly pushes the crown of his head into the terracotta brick walls.

“No,” you chuckle softly, watching him struggle for logical thought as you take more of him, and slip him further in. “No, not even him.”

Joel grunts, digging his teeth into his lower lip as you take him to the hilt. He nudges your cervix in this position, the sensation almost like a mild bruise, but you love it. Love that it will match the hickeys he leaves on your shoulders- marking you inside and out. Claiming you as his, Death and His black dog be damned.

“Oh C-Christ,” he lilts, and it sounds like a whimper as you squeeze around him, “I can feel it. Can feel your pulse-“

“See? I told you I’m alive,” You muse, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you slowly begin to grind your hips forward in a circle. Joel just nods dumbly, his previously pale cheeks flushed slightly.

No bouncing, no thrusts. Joel is too fragile, his immune system fighting a nuclear war inside of him as his white blood cells try to secure the perimeter of the wound in his abdomen. You focus on rolling your hips instead, slowly inching off his cock and sinking back down onto his velvety length.

“Hoh- uhng, fuck-“ his illegible groans make your heart batter his meta-carpel bones, compelling him to acknowledge your vital signs and their optimal function.

He’s twitching inside you, the slow rise and fall of your hips forcing him to feel you stretch around each ridge and pulsing vein of his cock. Joel looks like he could break down, the sensation of his building orgasm such an overwhelming sensation in his already exhausted body.

Pushing your fingers through his soft curls, you clasp the back of his skull and lean forward to hold his face to your chest. He can hear it loud and clear now, the shell of his ear cupping the cavity of your chest where your heart batters against his cheekbone. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you as tight as his septic-fatigued muscles can hold you.

It doesn’t take much for you to work yourself into your own fever. Joel’s cock always manages to find that spark inside you, nudging it and coaxing your orgasm to bloom between your thighs.

“M’gonna cum,” he rasps against your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Joel’s pressing sloppy, clumsy kisses there, exhaling heavily with each roll of your hips.

“Mhmm-“ you muffle your cry by biting your knuckles, focusing on the clench of your walls and the buzz of your orgasm surging up through you. It’s like a whirlpool, pulling you under and drowning you in the wave of bliss that overtakes you.

Joel’s follows almost immediately after, his whole body tending despite the pain as it pulses through him, his cum painting your insides. His hips stutter, burying deep within you and letting out a ragged breath of relief that edges into a moan of your name.

Passing carbon dioxide between you, your foreheads press together as your breath fans over each other's faces. His eyelashes flutter with exhaustion, and you can feel them tickle the peak of your cheekbones. It’s so tender, so unlike Joel.

“I won’t let him take you.” His voice is so quiet the words almost don’t form, just barely leaving his throat in a sigh. His hand, not having left its rooted spot above your left breast, slowly inches towards your throat. You feel his index finger prod at your pulse, sealing his conviction that you are safe.

In honesty, you’re unsure who he means. Death, probably. David is long gone, but Joel’s fever is tipping him closer to delirium than reality.

One thing was for certain; you had managed to stave off the Black Dog for now. It lay at the doorway, stuck beyond the threshold it was forbidden to pass over, waiting until Joel allowed it back inside.

END

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina @pedrosprincess @inklore

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[alicelufenia]

Killing The Grove But Not Killing Your Friendship With Karlach And Wyll - A Patch 7 Guide

Friendship ended with Halsin and the druids, but not with the two good-aligned companions. As a dark mirror to the KO Method for recruiting Minthara on a good playthrough, this is what has been dubbed the "Murder Method" to recruit Karlach and Wyll on an evil (or at least very chaotic if at one time well meaning) playthrough.

Pictured above: Kagha giving even a good-aligned Tav a reason to side with Minthara, probably.

This is a follow up to my original guide [x], so I will only give the highlights here. The general gist is this: So long as a civil war between the druids and the tieflings at the grove is triggered, AND the tieflings die (completing the Save the Refugees quest), the Raid the Grove quest can be completed without a raid battle.

To explain, there seems to be only two things that cause Karlach and Wyll to leave:

Triggering the raid battle against the tieflings, no matter how many remain from the druids attacking, triggers Wyll to leave and Karlach to lose so much approval she's likely to leave just from that alone.

Speaking with Minthara in the Secluded Chamber and proceeding to the goblin party causes both Wyll and Karlach to leave, but only if they are currently alive when the transition happens.

EDIT: I've gotten reports of people losing Wyll and Karlach upon moving to the goblin party, even if they're dead before hand. So I need to clarify, for this to work they need to be both dead and not in the party. This can be done by getting them killed (by enemy attacks, damage over time like fire, or jumping to their death), then instead of Withers resurrecting them, ask him to collect your fallen companions. This will spawn their corpses in camp (all their loot and gear will stay on them) and remove them from the party list. This will be how you know they are now in his care, and can proceed.

This also means that you don't need them dead before the fighting starts. They can steal the idol, fight Kagha, whatever you want to do to kick off the druids attacking the tieflings. As long as they are dead and in Wither's care before proceeding to the goblin after-raid party, this should work (but as always, have a backup save, and attempt this in Honor Mode at your own risk).

For this test, I had two objectives: Steal the idol without my party members getting caught (so as not to slow down the druids and give the tieflings a fighting chance) and returning it to Mol for the "Steal the Idol" quest reward, and, on the chance Kagha is still alive after the fighting, TAKE THE IDOL BACK FROM MOL. This is critical I think, as every time it's not been in my inventory when Kagha is still alive, the grove seals as soon as we leave.

Once again, because Alice sucks at pickpocketing, I just paid through the nose (800 gold) to buy it back from Mol. I'm sure she's satisfied with the results. It is possible to pickpocket it from her though. I then shapeshifted into a halfling and escaped out the secret exit and waited out the fight.

And that's when I saw Arabella again!

I swear she came running out the secret hole right past me!

She was too fast for me to keep up with Shovel, the druids all ignored her, and she doesn't stop moving in turn-based mode. Still, there she goes.

It's a shame I'm going to have to redo this whole sequence for my main save (I skipped a lot of things I did previously to get this done fast), however now that I know where she appears from I may be able to trigger it consistently. If so, I will report back on whether Arabella shows up later!

Despite Kagha surviving, the grove doesn't seal when we leave the area, and the Emerald Grove Environs waypoint remains. So holding onto the idol was the key here.

Minthy is upset that we started the slaughter without her, but she prepares her raiding party all the same. One long rest later:

Here's something new for patch 7, Karlach has something to say upon finding Dammon's body.

It's genuinely pretty sad, and you've got a couple things you can say in response. Honestly it's been a long time coming.

I'm curious whether this triggers if he dies at Last Light too. Something for others to investigate (I do not guarantee the safety of the inn either on my playthrough :p)

Looks like Minthara took care of Kagha for us. She was even nice enough to leave the loot. No sign of Rath though, so no getting the Sorrow glaive. Just pickpocket the rune off him first, I guess.

For the record, nothing happens when we investigate her secret stash and notes at this point. Oh well!

All the animals are dead except for Topaz! I guess that was his lucky coin after all.

Also something I forgot to confirm last time, the kids' hideout is still empty. So I still say Mol and the others got out. Another point in the favor of doing things like this.

The game still is treating it like you killed the tieflings. Strange, the patch notes said Minthara would have something to say if there were no tieflings left, but it's all the same here. Wow, Larian saying something was added for Minthara, only for it to just not be there? What a wild concept.

Also you can barely see it but Karlach and Wyll here also have their eyes closed, implying Minthara's sharing her mental snuff film and porn movie with them too. Yikes, that's awkward, sorry guys this is. Like, a Durge and Minthy thing, just for the two of us? Didn't mean to involve you, just lie down in fire a bit for me.

Thanks guys, you're the best!

I swear they're both some of my favorite characters! I do this because I love them.

So yeah, make sure Karlach and Wyll are dead and entrusted to Withers before talking to Minthara, as finishing her dialogue moves you to the goblin party, and they'll both ditch if they're alive for it.

You can bring them back once you're actually at the party though.

Also they changed Withers' resurrection animation to be much faster! They were revived before he was done speaking!

They're both chill! And Wyll has new greetings dialogue for higher approval! This is apparently his "Very High" greeting. EDIT: Actually it's his low approval greeting, because the only companion Larian hates more than Minthara is Wyll, sadly. It's a bug that should get fixed soon, but who knows when.

Once again, you probably don't need their approval this high, but it doesn't hurt. Plus hey, I honestly think they'd get along with Alice, so I'm glad they're here this time.

We roll in the hay with Minthara, have a civil discussion over drawn knives, and she gives me her lyre so we can take the mountain pass way to Moonrise. And the camp is just how it should be: Karlach and Wyll still with us, and a huge ritual circle painted in tiefling blood in the middle of camp (because of Durge things, not the goblins).

Keeping Wyll and Karlach post goblin party in patch 7 - Success!

I hope everyone enjoyed this, and it helped you make the most of your evil playthrough. Now you can have all origin characters along for the horrible, horrible ride.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 41 part one

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Empathy

We start off with Wei Wuxian, paper edition, flinging himself onto the surprisingly well-preserved face of Nie Mingjue.

Back in their room, Lan Wangji immediately recognizes that Wei Wuxian is doing empathy, even though it's an advanced technique that Lan Wangji hasn't seen him use before, as far as I can recall. Maybe the wind from nowhere that kicks up as soon as the empathy session starts is an indicator he's been trained to recognize.

Lan Wangji: Where's my fan?

Watercooler Gossip

We head into an extended flashback from Nie Mingjue's memories.

Dead-Nie-Mingjue spends a surprising amount of time thinking about how sexy and imposing he used to be, as well as remembering things he wasn't actually there to witness. The whole sequence is presented in usual close-third-person narrative POV. Maybe when we die, we switch to third-person camera view. *shrug*

Nie Mingjue finishes off a couple of Zombies without wiping his sabre, which would make Aslan very unhappy if we were in Narnia.

Then he glares angrily at his crew of cheerful disciples and their unbloodied swords, for reasons that are unclear. He's an angry guy.

(More behind the cut!)

He says to call the dude who was "the last one to stay guard last time." When they say it's Meng Yao he looks shocked. I don't know why he's shocked because I don't know what he actually means by "the last one to stay guard last time." On Netflix this is translated as the dude who "stayed the latest last time," which I guess means that Meng Yao works harder than everyone else? But apparently the result is that he is required to carry water for the rest of the group, so maybe it means he's a slacker? Without seeing the duty roster I can't really tell what the deal is here.

Next we see Meng Yao walking up with a whole bunch of water bottles on a hill above the CDrama River of Questionable Life Choices, where we have previously seen Wei Wuxian, Wen Kexing, A-Qing, and maybe those Lotus Casebook guys.

He approaches the mouth of a (incredibly beautiful) cave, where he can hear people talking shit about him inside.

Instead of going inside and telling them to shut their collective pie hole, he goes and sits by a tree to have lunch by himself. With…all the water? They should have waited to insult him until AFTER the water delivery. Jeez, these guys are dumb.

While he chows down on his bread, he keeps glancing wistfully at the cave where the dudes are, but somehow fails to notice Nie Mingjue walking up to him until he's 2 feet away.

Nie Mingjue asks why Meng Yao isn't in the cave with the others. Meng Yao makes a face at the cave and Nie Mingjue strides over there, eager for an opportunity to be pissed off about something.

They walk into the cave together and the dudes are STILL talking shit about him. I get that gossip is fun, but there are only 3 things to know about Meng Yao. 1. Mom was a sex worker 2. dad is reknowned creep Jin Guangshan 3. got kicked down the stairs at Jinlintai. That's it.

Anyone who enjoys gossip knows that the conversation would have shifted by now, to one of the following topics: 1. who else's mom is a sex worker? Yours, no yours! 2. the further creep adventures of Jin Guangshan 3. every over-long staircase that anyone in the group has ever heard of, and everyone who either climbed up it or fell down it.

Instead, the conversation has stayed resolutely on the topic of Meng Yao, and Nie Mingjue just stands there with him behind a rock wall, listening while his guys lay out all of the embarrasing detail, along with their big opinions.

One guy says that Meng Yao has accepted his fate and has to run and get water for them, but another guy says he hasn't accepted it, that he's diligent & working hard all the time so he can gain fame and get his father to acknowledge him. This is the only guy who has said anything positive about him, and this is the speech Nie Mingjue decides to interrupt, rather than the speech about how many men Meng Yao's mom has fucked. What the hell, Nie Mingjue? Nie Minjue clearly has no interest in saving Meng Yao embarrassment.

Nie Mingjue yells at everyone and tells Meng Yao that the more that these assholes talk shit about him, the more he has to achieve to make sure there's nothing they can say. Which is…pretty decent advice, sadly.

While Nie Mingjue delivers his lecture, Meng Yao mentally counts up how many guys he's going to be murdering later. Then Nie Mingjue pointedly promotes him to be his deputy General. Meng Yao thanks him formally and apparently sincerely.

Before we jump ahead to what happens next, let's talk about how this scene sets up the relationship between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. I think it's a super toxic relationship right from the get-go.

When I first watched this scene it played like a leader seeing the value in his subordinate, defending him from his peers, and elevating him as a reward for his hard work. But I think that's not really what we're seeing. Nie Mingjue's focus throughout this encounter is on the rest of his men; specifically on their unvirtuous behavior and his rage about it. He's using Meng Yao to teach them a lesson, and it seems like he elevates him above them not as a reward for himself, but as a punishment for them.

On the flip side, Meng Yao's lunchtime pity party seems a lot less spontaneous to me, now that I've seen so many other Wuxia & Xianxia dramas, than it did when I first fell into this CDrama rabbit hole. His meek, butthurt reaction to people talking shit about him is inappropriate for a cultivator or any fighter in the Jianghu. It's an entire culture based around fighting and responding to challenges. He definitely doesn't lack courage, so I think his meekness in this situation is crafted for its effect on Nie Mingjue.

Cloud Recesses Revisited

Let's have a flashback of our own, so we can compare this meeting with Meng Yao's first meeting with Lan Xichen, back in Episode 4.

When Meng Yao is presented, some Jiang sect douchebags in the back lay out his whole backstory in loud stage whispers. Lan Qiren quickly silences them -- without losing his temper, notably.

Even though he's a grumpy SOB who doesn't normally hesitate to yell at Wei Wuxian students, he does not embarrass Meng Yao by making a big deal of the situation; not even to say Gossip is Forbidden.

Lan Xichen then steps up and, smooth king that he is, drops the piece of gossip HE has heard about Meng Yao: "I've heard that Clan Leader Nie has a helpful assistant." Then he compliments the elegance of his speech, saying that he matches up to his expectations.

Then he strokes his fingers while he praises the gift he's brought. Then he grabs him and kisses him passionately in front of everyone Ahem. Pardon me.

Where Nie Mingjue's reaction to malicious gossip is to listen to every word of it and then make a big show of criticizing the people speaking, Lan Xichen moves to counteract it with praise, subtly shaming the gossipers in a way that genuinely uplifts Meng Yao. And he does it just because he's a nice guy who finds Meng Yao pleasing, not because he requires anything from him. Whereas Nie Mingjue appears to require quite a lot from Meng Yao.

Nie Mingjue's goal seems to be to improve Meng Yao in a fundamental way; to educate him and sort of force him onto the path of virtue. He also wants to use him to force his men onto the path of virtue...a path he himself does not, actually, walk.

Murder Will Out

Next we jump ahead to Meng Yao shanking the guard captain.

I think Nie Mingjue needs to overhaul his hiring practices because this dude is very easy to stab and perhaps should not be in charge of anything relating to combat. Maybe the "block" button on his game controller broke.

Note that Meng Yao picks up a saber to do this - not a Wen sword, but a Nie saber, which might be a props error, since later Nie Mingjue accuses him of deliberately using a Wen sword to disguise his actions.

We've seen these events before, back in episode 10, but the editing adds some things in the current episode, and removes others. Let's look at the differences.

1. Drunk Guard Captain

The night before this fight, there's a banquet and Meng Yao spends most of it making out with guarding Xue Yang. He does this by checking on him a bunch, which doesn't seem like it should be necessary in a fortress with a proper dungeon, but whatevs.

In Episode 10, we see Meng Yao briefly encounter the drunken, hostile guard captain, who shoulder-checks him and calls him son of a [sex worker], but otherwise we don't see any of their conversation.

In Episode 41, Nie Mingjue's head remembers a longer version of the encounter, with bonus vomiting. The captain tells Meng Yao he saw him talking to someone, asks what he's up to, accuses him of lying, and Meng Yao tells the captain's sidekick to put his drunk ass to bed.

This whole scene is HILARIOUS when you consider that this is Nie Mingjue's mental account of events, which means the Captain must have put everything we see in his report to the boss.

"Well, sir, I was incredibly drunk and vomiting in public near the Lan guest quarters when that twink that you like was seen talking to someone, so I roughed him up a bit and insulted his mother before I went to pass out from drunkenness. I hope you will reprimand him for his bad behavior."

That scene, in Episode 41, ends with Meng Yao all alone, straightening and brushing off his clothes and making his "I'm plotting your death" face.

Nie Mingjue sure does remember a lot of stuff he wasn't actually around to see. Maybe he's filling in gaps with everything he's heard during all the times Meng Yao has stood in front of his head-shelf and gloated out loud about stuff.

2. Wens Attack

In episode 10, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu bring some guys to attack the Unclean Realm. Meng Yao goes and stabs the guard captain while Nie Mingjue is in a melee 1-on-1 with Wen Zhuliu, which requires all of his focus and spinning.

Nie Mingjue glances to the side in a moment of respite and sees Meng Yao stabbing the guard captain; he promptly forgets about fighting Wen Zhuliu in order to go shout at Meng Yao.

Meng Yao pulls on a tee shirt that says "commmit to the bit" and proceeds to say "it wasn't me" over and over despite having been caught red-handed.

This distraction enables Wen Zhuliu to almost stab Nie Mingjue, but he's saved by Meng Yao throwing himself in the way of the blade. These people should learn to block with something besides their torsos.

In Episode 41, Nie Mingjue's head has forgotten that Wen Zhuliu was ever there, and doesn't focus on the other Wen dudes right in his eye line. He notices Meng Yao acting a tiny bit squirrely and stops fighting in order to go follow him. Like. Stops fighting to defend his fortress, seat of his power, family home, etc., because he doesn't trust his subordinate.

Did I mention the need to overhaul Nie Clan hiring practices? Also some management training wouldn't be out of place.

Nie Mingjue's head also remembers that Meng Yao smirked evilly while doing the stabbing.

It's cool that he had time to notice this and be shocked and appalled rather than, you know, moving quickly to intercept the blow or otherwise help his captain out.

Side note: Meng Yao doesn't wipe his saber when he's done with it. Aslan is sad now.

3. You're Fired

After the battle is resolved, we go to Nie Mingjue's office. In episode 10 we jump in with Meng Yao groveling on the floor while Nie Mingjue yells at him. In Episode 41, we learn that he's on the floor not because he put himself there, but because Nie Mingjue apparently kicked him and his recent chest wound across the room.

In Episode 10, Meng Yao makes it makes it clear that he killed the guard captain on purpose, and gives a pretty good list of reasons for killing him.

you promoted me to vice general, but he always looked down on me

insulting, beating, and humiliating me

taking credit for my achievements

he let Xue Yang go

Meng Yao says that he could tolerate the first two problems, but he 100% will not tolerate #3. It's not about personal pride, for him, it's about ambition.

There's always gonna be another mountain I'm always gonna wanna make it move Always gonna be an uphill battle Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose Ain't about how fast I get there Ain't about what's waiting on the other side It's the climb

The part about Xue Yang is bullshit, of course, but the rest seem like pretty okay reasons for killing the guy. I mean, in the world of the show, where justice is mostly determined by stabbing.

Nie Mingjue doesn't think pride in your own achievements is a good enough reason, and banishes him.

In Episode 41, Nie Mingjue remembers things differently; this time Meng Yao's justification is:

He let Xue Yang go

He wanted to kill me

He insulted my mother

This time, Nie Mingjue feels like it would be ok to kill the captain in a sudden moment of anger, but if that was how it went down, you wouldn't have an evil smirk on your face. Also, why pretend that Xue Yang did it and why use a Wen Sword? [it was clearly a Nie saber, bruh]

Nie Mingjue thinks he's been planning this for a long time, because the guard captain told him that Meng Yao was colluding with Xue Yang. Nie Mingjue has ALMOST figured out what's going on here, but his anger is making him stupid.

Instead of following through to the logical conclusion that Meng Yao is getting up to some shenanigans with Xue Yang, he focuses on his own hurt feelings, suspecting that Meng Yao was manipulating him from the beginning. Which, of course, he was, but Nie Mingjue was using Meng Yao, too. Red flags all around.

He wonders if Meng Yao would have killed the caveful of bullies if Nie Mingjue hadn't come to help him out. Which is ridiculous since Meng Yao was just sitting and having his lunch when NMJ showed up; if he felt like killing those guys it would be pretty simple to poison the water they were making him carry for them.

Nie Mingjue proceeds to banish Meng Yao not precisely for killing a guy without permission, but for having the wrong priorities and values. So he really shouldn't be surprised when Meng Yao goes to work for Wen Ruohan.

Soundtrack: The Climb, Alan Cumming version

[jpitha]

The Long Way

This is an edit of an old one of mine.

"No" Cellmenian's voice rose in pitch. She was trying to hold back the rising tide of panic. "No." Her fur bristled and stood out straight, making her look fluffy. Without knowing why she did it, humans might call it cute. It was not.

The blast had only happened about an hour ago. They were en route from Sol to Parvati, a ferry flight of the Starjumper City of Troy, when three of the four reactors had oversped and exploded. If that wasn't bad enough, they were just about to engage their wormhole generator and link over when it happened. The explosion had caused an overload of power to flow to the wormhole generator, and they mis-linked. THe wormhole generator was sheared in half, with the other half somewhere else in space. Deep in interstellar space, Troy was able to triangulate their location from known pulsars, but that was a small comfort when they calculated how long it would take to cruise to where they could be rescued.

"I'm sorry Celle, It's the only way." Kat said, shrugging. "We're too far from the warp gates; we lost most of the reactors in the blast. Hibernation is the only way to get back. It won't take that long. Maybe a decade."

The humans had explored space for a long time before they found other sapients in the galaxy. Long enough to try out just about every different kind of way they could think of to shrink the distance between stars. Most other sapients think the humans insane for the different ways they made "canned mammal" and flung it into the abyss.

They assumed it was some human thing; a desire to leave their planet by any means necessary. They thought the humans were trying to escape. They were right, but not for the reason they thought. It wasn't escape the humans sought, but exploration. The need to see what was out there with their own eyes. The need to go somewhere new.

Among the more gossiping sapients were whispers that there were still human generation ships, soaring in the interstellar darkness between stars. Ships where whole cities of people grow up, live, love, and die just to be caretakers of their hibernating colonists. Being born, living, loving, creating the next generation, and dying not even knowing that their compatriots back home can now warp between stars in days and (for the truly in a hurry) punch holes in spacetime and link between planets with a wormhole. When asked, the human authorities get quiet and make noises that make it clear that this line of conversation is done.

Only the humans make wormholes, the other sapients shudder at the insanity of it, yet, will still use their systems when they need to be somewhere right away.

"Cellmenian?" It was City of Troy, the ship. "I do not have the printable mass to repair the wormhole generator, and even if I did, the reactor's destruction severely limited my power producing ability. I can thrust towards Parvati, but at this distance, it will be... a while before we get there. I am sorry."

"No!" Cellmenian was screaming now. "You can't consign me to spend however many years it takes for us to get to a place where we can be rescued when I...when I..." She broke down, sobbing. "When I have my family to get home to." She slid down to the deck, sitting rather than passing out, tears streaming from her large eyes. "This was supposed to be a one month trip!" She cried "One month!" Kat couldn't help but notice that the K'laxi cried just like humans did. She didn't mention it though, Celle was going through enough.

Kat sat down next to her friend and said nothing. After a while, she put her arm around the smaller sapient. "I'm sorry Celle." She whispered. "If I could wave a hand and fix it, I would."

They sat in silence together, the gravity of their situation pinning them to the floor.

"What about everyone else?" Celle asked.

"Unfortunately, many of them were caught in the blast." Troy said. "You, Kat, and a few others are all that is left. They are all preparing to enter hibernation as well."

"And you're just okay with this?" Celle's ears and tail were flicking in irritation. "Most of the crew is dead, and you're all being entirely too calm about it."

"Well, for one thing, we've had training." Kat said, gently. "We understand that even though we've been a spacefaring species for a long time, accidents still happen. Any trip we take could be our last, or could take so long that everyone we know is gone by the time we return." Kat sighed. "And for another thing, if we stop, we'll die too, Celle. We will mourn them when we're safe. For now though, we have to put it aside for our own survival."

"A beacon!" Celle stood suddenly, unsteady on her feet. "Why don't we link a beacon to Parvati for help?"

"Our supply of beacons was destroyed in the blast." Troy said. There was a touch of sadness in their voice. "I am making a note to recommend that emergency beacons be placed in other areas of the ship for future revisions."

"So that's it then." Celle said, sitting back down, her eyes welling with tears again. "I spend decades in a box, and when I awake, everyone I know is old or dead."

Kat said nothing, she just sat with Celle.

"Okay." Celle said, with a sniff. "If we're going to go into hibernation, I want to do it now. I want the shortest possible time conscious before I see my... family...again." as she blinked, more tears ran down her cheek.

"Well Troy?" Kat addressed the ship. "Are the hibernation berths printed?"

"Almost, Kat." the ship replied. "Luckily, I had some data from Contact about K'laxi needs in hibernation. You can both hibernate safely for the boost home. You'll climb into the cabinet, close the door, and before you realize what happened, the door will open, and you'll be at Parvati."

"Let's go then. No time like the present."

[unboundprompts]

You don’t have to do this if you don’t know the music, but could you possibly do prompts based on Muse (the band) songs? If I’m requesting wrong I’ll send another ask, my apologies ^^;

Muse Prompts

➢ writing prompts from Muse songs. feel free to edit as you see fit.

"I thought I was a fool for no one but baby, I'm a fool for you." - Supermassive Black Hole

"You may be a sinner but your innocence is mine." - Undisclosed Desires

"You're something beautiful, a contradiction." - Time is Running Out

"Your mind is just a program and I'm the virus." - Psycho

"You'd see that we should never be afraid to die." - Uprising

"I will be chasing a starlight until the end of my life." - Starlight

"I've exposed your lies, baby." - Plug in Baby

"Give me your heart and your soul." - Hysteria

"You set my soul alight." - Supermassive Black Hole

"This ship is taking me far away. Far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die." - Starlight

"I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide." - Undisclosed Desires

"I tried so hard to let you go but some kind of madness is swallowing me whole." - Madness

"I could use someone like you. Someone who'll kill on my command." - Psycho

"You and I must fight to survive. No one's gonna take me alive." - Knights of Cydonia

"I just wanted to hold you in my arms." - Starlight

"I want to reconcile the violence in your heart." - Undisclosed Desires

"I need to know, is this real love?" - Madness

"You will be the death of me." - Time is Running Out

"How can we win when fools can be kings?" - Knights of Cydonia

"Love. It will get you nowhere. You're on your own." - Psycho

"This chaos, it defies imagination." - Panic Station

[annievrse]

boyfriend!eren headcanons (summer edition)

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: it is currently winter in aus, but i need summer eren rn in my room asap c/w: some suggestive but not that bad

boyfriend!eren walks around shirtless 24/7

boyfriend!eren gets so tan in the sun, he is golden!!

boyfriend!eren wears white swimming shorts, the reallyyyy short ones. lord. (he has 3 pairs of the same ones)

boyfriend!eren complains about sand in his hair nonstop (it’s his fault for laying on the sand instead of on a towel next to you!!!)

boyfriend!eren digs holes in the sand when he’s bored (e.g. waiting for you to finish your chapter/sunbathing/napping—he can’t nap on the sand, hence why he starts digging and building sand hills HASHDJAH)

boyfriend!eren volunteers to put sunscreen on you just so he can cop a feel (gets distracted and rubs the lotion into your back for literally 9 minutes)

when boyfriend!eren orders ice cream, he gets cookie dough or chocolate, sometimes the rainbow kids one

and when boyfriend!eren buys you ice cream, he will ask if he can taste yours and take the biggest bite :( in return, he lets you do the same to his <3

boyfriend!eren tucks a tshirt in the back of his shorts

boyfriend!eren wears birks 🫣 (hot)

boyfriend!eren will pull you underwater by your ankles if you aren’t careful, so keep an eye on him at all times when in the water with him

boyfriend!eren’s hair goes curly from the salt water and you have rinse it out for him in the beach showers otherwise it gets all tangled and frizzy

boyfriend!eren eats any melon like it’s his last meal, especially at the beach and on the boat. bring a container of it (or just an entire melon and a spoon) and he will go to town (the juice from the melon always drips from his chin onto his bare chest — just gonna leave you with that one)

boyfriend!eren is actually good at beach sports, so when you go with your friends, expect a game of beach football, with you on opposite teams because sasha and connie said it was unfair :/

boyfriend!eren in sunglasses >>>

boyfriend!eren drives jean’s boat (he won rock, paper, scissors at the start of summer)

boyfriend!eren DRIVES THE BOAT 😵‍💫

boyfriend!eren can wakeboard and wakesurf and looks hot doing it

boyfriend!eren wears a wide brimmed straw hat whenever on the boat because he’s cute ok

boyfriend!eren isn’t allowed to control the music on the boat or at the beach (group rules)

boyfriend!eren has to have you on his lap whenever he can’t be bothered to drive the boat anymore, and puts his hat on your head (you look so cute he could DIE)

boyfriend!eren fishes off the side of the boat with jean & armin, waits until he gets a bite, and then drags you in front of him to let you reel it in

boyfriend!eren has a photo of you holding the fish he you caught as his lock screen lmao

boyfriend!eren always throws the fish back though!!!!

boyfriend!eren buys you a pool float for the lake (it’s always something random like a watermelon (his obsession continues…), a flamingo, a champagne bottle etc etc)

boyfriend!eren inevitably pops said pool float when he backflips from the boat onto it :/

boyfriend!eren and jean want photos, they want paparazzi!!!!, when they do simultaneous backflips off the side of the boat and they always make the instagram

boyfriend!eren roasts marshmallows and tries to feed them to you but he burns them to a literal crisp so you roast your own (makes him pouty)

but boyfriend!eren gets over it when you feed marshmallows to him that aren’t burnt to a crisp <3

boyfriend!eren and connie (and sometimes jean if he’s drunk enough) will jump over the fire because they are shitheads (they only get one go each before everyone stops them)

boyfriend!eren gets all warm and cuddly when he’s drunk (after his usual unhinged activities with connie) so expect him to lay all over you when you’re around the fire

boyfriend!eren gets a sunburnt back and shoulders so you gotta sit on his bum and rub aloe vera everywhere while he whines about the pain

boyfriend!eren posts an end-of-summer dump and 6/10 photos are of you <3 (the rest consist of: his and jean’s backflip; a photo of him, mikasa, and armin around the campfire; him and connie clinking beer bottles; and him, armin, jean, and connie around a pool table: eren smiling wide with a single backwards rock and roll hand sign (he’s winning), armin with a smile and thumbs up, jean emotionless holding his pool cue (he’s losing), and connie with double middle fingers, his pool cue falling mid-air)